Guide My Feet

Reflections with a side of Currywurst

2010-07-06T11:21:00.004-04:00

Author's note: I'm afraid this journey of mine is already getting a bit too Eat-Pray-Love-esque, focus on the eating. Over the past two days I've found myself journaling over lunch, which, in all fairness, does slightly slow down the face-stuffing process. But my aspirations to exercise more and eat less remain aspirations. Maybe some discipline from my Bremer host mom will help.

July 6 - 15:39 local time - Conrads Restaurant am Hammer Steindamm, Hamburg

This morning when I went out to run errands, I passed a young woman pushing a stroller with two young children. The toddler, who was facing me, extended a babbled greeting and I responded with a smile and "Hallo" to him and his mother. She warmly returned the greeting--which isn't a given here, or anywhere really. As I walked past, I heard her speak to the boy in Russian, responding apparently to his garbled request to stop and watch some construction vehicles through a gap in a fence.

15 minutes later as I emerged from the shop, the mother was just pushing the stroller away from the same spot in the fence. Though tempted to speak in Russian, I decided on the German, "so lange hat er zugeschaut?" (He watched for that long?) "Yeah, he didn't want to leave at all," she answered with a smile in a German entirely without accent. "Have a good day now," I said and walked on.

Strinking up a conversation with--or even making passing comments to--strangers on the street is not particularly common here, not that it is in Washington, DC, or many other places in the US either. But it's something I grew up around: my grandfather unable to pass a young child without a word to him/her and the parent(s), my father never without a comment for those he finds around him. I suppose in many ways it is stereotypical US-American. I have a German friend who always reminds me of our first meeting. We were having dinner in Bremen in a group of students--mixed US-American and German. The Amis were exchange students, the Germans about to begin their year in the States. It was one of Jens's (my friend's) first "close encounters" with Americans, and he was sitting across from me. I jumped right into a conversation--first, the usual topics: "What are you studying? Have you been to the States?" But then further, "How many siblings do you have? Are you the oldest or youngest? Do you get along with your sisters? Did you play any musical instruments growing up?" (I know, the last one was pretty random.) Jens always tells me how my "interview" caught him off guard, but how at some point he decided, (and I'm hoping it was sooner rather than later), that it was better that way. "Us Germans will sometimes just sit there and stare across the table at each other, which doesn't make much sense either."

The first time Jens told me of his reaction to our first meeting, I was much embarrassed. Especially during study abroad, I was trying so hard to fit in. From early on in my language learning I've striven to finely tune my ear to pick up on nuances in pronunciation and inflection. Though no fashion diva, I tried to pack clothing that didn't reek of the States. I would try to walk like a Muscovite, bike like a Bremerin (read how well that went here), even look somewhat disinterested in Prague's downtown sites (because if there were ever a place during that year where I would be successful at fitting in, it would have been there--ha!). So much for "impressing" Jens with my "fluent-sounding" German. Having done everything to blend in, there I was, a regular US-American chatty Cathy.

I've been back in Germany every year since then, and though (I sure hope) my language skills have improved, my desire to blend in has slowly diminished. Last week was the first time I remember not feeling compelled to cover my US passport as I stood in the customs line. (I did end up holding it under my scarf, but it wasn't an automatic reflex per usual.) Don't get me wrong, I have no less a desire to distance myself from the "ugly American" tourist as well as quite a few of our government policies. But the "accomplishment" of whipping out that navy booklet at the last minute to "wow" the customs official with my quick & well-inflected Deutsch--eh, das reizt mich nicht mehr so an. (That doesn't really do it for me anymore.)

Which is perhaps why this simple exchange with a Russian- & German-speaking mother was so heart-warming. I've come a long way in being who I am away from "home"--wherever that is. Perhaps the real Jen Mihok will start standing up a little taller on the other side of the pond as well. Because wherever I am, and whatever I end up doing, I am called to be me. [End of sermon to self.]

No makeup day

2010-07-05T08:34:00.005-04:00

Monday, July 5, 2010 - 13:18 local time - Krista's house in Hamburg

It's a no makeup day. It is a rare occasion anymore that I leave the house without makeup. It's a part of my routine. I am in no way a makeup artist, but I think it does add something to my appearance; it makes me look (or at least feel?) more professional and alert. Even on more casual days, I almost always wear makeup. Putting it on means I'm ready to go--I'm committed to putting my whole self into the day. Recently, the only times I haven't worn it was when I knew I'd be out in the heat and humidity too long for makeup to do anything besides run down my face.

But there have been other times when I've consciously chosen not to wear makeup--times where I've felt so good that I knew I didn't need any outside assistance in being ready for what was ahead. Perhaps surprisingly, one of those times was on a first date. It was with someone I was just getting to know, but everything about the way things were progressing just felt so good and natural. It wasn't that I wasn't nervous or felt no need to impress this person, but I felt good about myself--even as we went through the bumps of getting to know each other. It was natural, and I didn't want anything to interfere with that--not even a light touch of mascara.

Today is a no makeup day. It's vacation, which might be explanation enough. But I think it's something more. I'm in Hamburg--a place I've been a handful of times before. I don't know the city that well, but I've always liked being here. It's a place I could see myself living--as much as I can see myself living anywhere at this point. I love popping into the grocery store (a one minute walk from where I'm staying) and being back in 15 minutes without having lost a significant amount of time or energy. I love how lush and green everything is here. I love that I spent Sunday afternoon biking in the dress and shoes that I wore to church--and that I didn't stand out in the least. Sure, these things are not unique to Hamburg or Germany or even Europe, but on those occasions where so many small things like up to make you feel good and natural and free, it warrants a no makeup day.

Coming Back

2010-07-03T16:11:00.002-04:00

So, two years have gone by since my last post. No apologies. No attempt to summarize what happened in between. But I’m back in Germany for one final month before my term as a mission intern officially ends. Here goes:

[From the first hand-written journal entry I’ve written in quite some time]

July 2, 2010 - 14:06 local time - Berlin Hauptbahnhof

I’m back I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling, because I’m hardly feeling anything at all. Certainly not the usual jet lag mixed with excitement at returning. I feel completely normal, but certainly not as if I’d never left [Germany]. I feel distant from my own past. As I flipped through my passport this morning, looking through old visas and stamps, it was as if they belonged to another person. And I’m not just being poetic—it was another life.

Certainly that other part has shaped who I am today, but right now—alone in a place of former familiarity—the two seem divorced. Yet if I were asked to describe the current me—the one so estranged by all of this—I’d probably have no clue as to where to begin. What has happened in the ten months since I last visited? Or in the 18 since I last lived here? I used to get such a thrill; this was where I lived: a physical—if not emotional—home. I wasn’t at all ready to leave in December of 2008. Now—not even 2 years later: detachment. It may be due to the fact that I haven’t seen anyone yet. And people certainly make the journey what it is.

circa 18:00 local time - A Eurocity train, somewhere between Wittenberge and Ludwigslust

I’ve arrived. After spending the afternoon walking through a sweltering and abandoned Berlin (much thanks to the World Cup game between Brasil and the Netherlands) and still not arriving, and after taking my reserved seat in a stifling hot EC train, and after being physically unable to keep my eyes open due to exhaustion and heat, I was awakened by the man with the pusch cart selling cola. The scenery here is tree lined open fields and it stretches in every direction, broken up only by Windräder (turbines! I recently was reminded of the English word), Dorfstraßen, und ab und zu mal...

My journal entry drifts into German. It’s back. I’m back. It was as if during my intermittant sleep I was transported into another world. Something like Narnia, but instead of snow-lined coats and trees: scortching, wide open spaces. The trees at the edges of the fields wave to me. The abandoned stations along the tracks echo a familiar, „hello.“ The birch trees cry, „we’ve missed you! And we’ve missed you in Russia, too!“ As I stare at an empty field, turbines visible from the opposite train window are reflected into my picture. The movement of the train and the turbines’ spinning spokes makes it look like they’re dancing. Even though I know I’m headed in a different direction, I expect to pull into Genthin any minute—right after Wüsterwitz and before Güsen. The names of places, which were so fuzzy in my head this morning, begin to come back—slowly, but then vividly. I know this place. It knows me. I’m here.

Companions

2008-08-11T07:43:00.024-04:00

11 August 2008
(June events)

The month of June as well as the days preceding and following were full of travel and visitors, such that in 35 or so days I spent only one night alone in the apartment. But my visit with Sarah had reminded me how refreshing it can be to share your life with other people, and just a week and a half after returning, I took a deep breath and set off on a marathon of travels, visitors, and care-giving.

It started with the North Germany Annual Conference at the end of May. I wound up attending only the end of the conference, but because the meeting place was so far from Genthin, I took a few days to get there, visiting folks along the way. My first stop was in Magdeburg by my pastor's family. Though Jürgen was already at conference, Claudia and the boys (ages 14, 11 and 8) were around. At Christmas I had given each of the boys two "coupons" for outings with me: one for the movies and one for ice cream. 8-year-old Elija had been asking about the ice cream since January, so finally in late May we made our way to a nice, outdoor cafe a few (long) city blocks away. Ahead of time I'd been thinking, what will an 8-year-old boy and this 23-year-old have to talk about? But I should have known better. Elija loves to talk. All the way to the cafe he chatted away: about his school work, the vegetables he needed to know for his next test, the animal names he already knew in English. I was struggling to understand him against the noise of the city and had to bend and walk at a stoop. But that little Energizer bunny just kept going and going, even keeping pace with my almost-normal walking stride. He picked out a nice table in the sun for us and our conversation continued. I could see the guests at neighboring tables gaining interest in this little chatter box when the impossible happened. It got quiet. I think this lasted for a total of 3 seconds before Elija interjected, "so what do you want to talk about now?" I laughed and conversation picked up again between sips of iced coffee and him devouring a Mickey Mouse Sundae. After our ice cream we walked to a playground, Elija giving me an earful about soccer stuff that I wouldn't have understood had he been speaking English. Arriving at the playground I sought out a ledge while he climbed up a large jungle gym (on the safe parts because he's afraid of heights) and slid down a large slide. After just one slide he came back to me and sat down. "Is that it?" I asked. "Yeah," he answered, "but we could talk more, if you want."

After spending a night with the Stolzes I headed to Hannover to visit college friend, Sean, who's been teaching English in a German high school on a Fulbright scholarship. Between my travel and his work schedule, we didn't have all that much time together. But we spent the afternoon walking around the city and the evening with parents of a mutual friend of ours, whom we met through the Dickinson exchange. Unfortunately, Anja moved to Frankfurt in March, but the four of us (ok, 5 with the dog) had a great evening complete with cook-out and slide show of the new condo they'd just purchased in Florida. We had a good laugh over the potential slogan for the website: "You won't find this on the Baltic." And it's certainly true. As beautiful as Germany is in all corners of the country, the geographic diversity of the States is really unmatchable. Yet for some reason I've found the flatlands and windmills to be more enticing than beach parties and boat outings, at least right now. I guess this is just another case of "greener grass" syndrome, but the important thing is that I feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be.

Silhouette of Sean in the Hannover Rathaus

After a late night at the Paetzolds, I got up unbearably early to catch a train to conference, where I had to camp out in a tent for one night due to a registration mix-up. I got there to find that I wasn't registered at all (even though I had received a confirmation that I was), and then I headed off to pitch a tent for the first time in my life. Luckily, the person I was borrowing the tent from had gone through a trial run with me, and I knew what I was doing. It went off without a hitch except for that fact that it was burning hot. The heat, disorganization, and me not really knowing what to do with myself left me in less than the best state for the "Faith Conference," which was full of speakers and workshops, most of which were trying to attack the problem of shrinking and dying churches. And though much of what the leaders had to say was true, it's not motivational speaking alone that brings about change in a church. It's easy to give a cheer when the "but-we've-always-done-it-this-way" mentality is attacked, but it's a lot harder to face people, who see nothing wrong with that way of thinking, on a day to day basis. And--most importantly--to face them with love, understanding, and the courage and tact necessary to bring about change.

I spent a lot of my free time with my English-speaking colleagues, for whom--and shame on the conference--there was no translation. Many in the group are new arrivals to Germany and just haven't had enough time with the language. Though I'm all about learning the language of the place where you live, it's obviously quite difficult to become fluent in a new language when you're employed full time directing English-speaking programming. At the same time, I was proud of myself when I realized how well I survived without any translation. The very youthful and modern contemporary praise band was much to my liking, but I couldn't help think about all the older members of the conference for whom the style of music (which was practically the only one offered for the time I was there) had less meaning. Forcing the church in new directions isn't going to get anyone anywhere either, but maybe I'm too much of a stuck-in-the-mud traditionalist. In any event, I was happy when our lay rep. and I ducked out a bit early to visit his daughter on our way back to Genthin. It was also wonderful to drive in a car instead of schlepping my gear back on the train. I am usually more than happy to hop on bikes and trains and feel like I'm doing my part for the environment. But sometimes riding in a car is just heavenly, and this was one of those occasions.

Back in Genthin I had just time enough to shower, unpack, and repack before heading a few streets down to Karolina, whom I'd been tutoring in English since the beginning of the year. Karolina is 12 and lives alone with her grandmother (a member of our congregation), her mother having died of cancer back in Russia. Karolina, her grandmother, and now 21-year-old half brother moved to Germany three and a half years ago, the brother having since moved into his own apartment. The grandmother, unfortunately, also has some health problems and had to spend a month in a sanatorium in southern Germany. Karolina's aunt, with whom she often stays overnight, also had to go away to work for two weeks, leaving Karolina alone. Her Grandma asked if I wouldn't mind stepping in to take care of her until the aunt returned, and I readily agreed. I'd loved Karolina from our first lesson and was glad, though a little nervous, about spending the extended time with her. How would I function in this half-mother, half-sister role? Especially considering my non-existent cooking skills. Luckily, Grandma cooked and froze more food than we could have eaten in the full month, and with a few exceptions, the kitchen situation worked out fine.

As did the living situation. I'll be honest; the first few days wore me to the ground. Adjusting to a more regular schedule that started a few hours earlier than the semi-routine I'd been used to was no easy task. Even though Karolina was good about getting up on time and getting herself fed, dressed, and out the door, I still found myself with plenty to do around the house. I was also beginning a second English course at the church--a mere three hours a week--but was, of course, stressed with preparations and getting the word out and coming up with creative topics. Running between Karolina's, home, church, and my other meetings and engagements was quite strenuous. In the beginning of our two and a half weeks together my calendar was especially packed, and when I announced one day at breakfast that I had an entire afternoon and evening free, Karolina beamed and exclaimed, "finally!"

Over time the schedules more or less aligned themselves and we went on many adventures. Most of them included riding our bikes to nearby Mützel, often singing US pop songs at the top of our lungs on the way. Karo also showed a particular interest in playing volleyball, and a few times we positioned ourselves on opposite sides of a sand court and tried in vain to keep the ball from flying all over the place. One day a group of teenagers showed up, also wanting to use the court. Karolina and I had already been playing for a while, so I offered let them have the court, much to Karo's disappointment. But then they asked if they couldn't join us, and the six of us played a few games together before we headed out. Karolina was in seventh heaven, having gotten to play with the "big kids," as I sadly realized how much older than these kids I was. She talked the whole ride home about how much fun it had been and how great we'd played (even though I wasn't convinced that the latter was the case), and I thought about how lucky I was to have wound up linked to such a great kid.

A highlight of Genthin, bus stop by the nursing home.

Helmut and his new dog, Elvis

(you can read about Helmut and his family in the "A Little Bit of Everything" entry)

The weeks with Karolina flew by. We went to Magdeburg; watched the European soccer championship; did each other's hair; spoke a colorful mix of Russian, German, and English; visited friends and family in their summer gardens (pictures above); studied and did homework (I got to sign my first round of tests and quizzes). And Karo took a mild interest in the fact that I was reading the Bible and involved in the church. She would share with me what they were learning in religion class, or tell me how her grandmother had taught her the Lord's Prayer in German. And she even wound up participating in a special worship service we held at the end of June (see next entry).

A little more than halfway through the month, Bridget Farraday, a girl from my home congregation, came for a two-week visit. I moved out of Karolina's and had just one night at home before going to meet her at the airport in Berlin. I'll share of our adventures mostly in the next entry, but Bridget was the perfect addition to Karolina's and my dynamic duo. Smack dab between the two of us age-wise, she also joined us on a bike ride to Mützel, in watching the championship, and in just being silly and goofy and having a good time. Little did I know then, those days would be some of my last with Karolina, as her grandmother has decided to move south to be closer to her sister. Just today I spoke with Karolina, who confirmed the sad rumor I heard in church yesterday. She's had to spend a good chunk of her summer studying Latin to catch up with her new classmates in Baden-Württemberg, who have already had a year of it. She is, of course, not thrilled about moving to a place where she has no friends or family in her age group, but I hope that she'll find better future prospects in a state where the economy and educational opportunities are a little better. Needless to say, I'm heartbroken that this little sister of mine is leaving. I will miss our English lessons and hang-out time tremendously.

Pictures from our bike ride for three:

Mach's gut, Karolina. Gott mit dir.

The Land Down Unten

2008-08-08T15:11:00.035-04:00

11 August 2008
(May activities)

In May I stepped on the train for the longest such trip of my life. Okay, maybe 11 hours isn't much compared to the flights of many friends and colleagues, but as much as I enjoy train rides, this one was just a little too long. Yet when I stepped off the train I found chestnut trees in bloom, clear skies, and air significantly warmer than what I'd left in Genthin, and I knew that it had been worth the trip. I was met at the station in Vienna by Selina Duncan, lay representative from the English-speaking international congregation of the UMC. She took me to the church where we met up with missionary pastor Laura Trent, who has been serving the Viennese congregation for the past three years. I had met both of them at a conference in Berlin in January and since then had been planning this trip to visit them in the gorgeous European capital, which I had seen only in a February snow. A college friend of mine, Sarah, was to arrive from Munich the next day, and we were planning on staying in the guest apartment at the church. Long story short, the apartment wound up being occupied for the first few nights, so Laura offered us her guest room. The room, her apartment, and the hospitality were so wonderful that we wound up staying all four nights with her, enjoying the opportunity for native-speaker communication about language, culture, faith, politics and whatever caught our interest.

I had the privilege of attending a women's Bible Study group on Thursday while waiting for Sarah to arrive, and what an amazing experience it was. In the end 9 or so women showed up, a colorful mix from at least four continents, many having lived all over. Though the ages ranged from 25 to 70, the women understood each other well with overlapping concerns about child raising, sick family members, the poor and underprivileged, future prospects and God. I love being in multi-cultural contexts where multiculturalism isn't discussed, it's a given. It was all I could do to choke back the tears in one of those "life-is-so-beautiful" moments as the women shared which verses from Psalm 63 held special meaning for them. I personally shared next to nothing, enjoying yet another opportunity to listen to immigrants and ex-pats in the German-speaking world. I left feeling a little selfish that, once again, this missionary had nothing to offer and was instead being blessed and enriched by those whose lives were so much more beautifully complex than her own.

Still having a few hours to kill before Sarah arrived, I found myself in the gardens of Schönbrunn enjoying the nicest weather I'd experienced so far this year. Yet I have to admit, walking around by myself was rather boring. I've gotten used to doing a lot of things on my own, but being a tourist isn't one of them. A US couple about my age was trying to take a picture of themselves and I cheerily offered my assistance. I watched an Austrian teenage girls' gym class run laps around a section of the garden, fascinated and rejoicing that those days were behind me. I stepped into a church and watched the candles burn for a good half an hour before heading back down town, not really knowing what to do with myself. In front of the Rathaus (city hall) I found people setting up for a young artists' competition, for which the dress rehearsal was to take place later that evening. And as I squinted against the sun listening to a kitchy musical tune, I found myself being approached by an old woman who had been in the morning's Bible Study. Despite my boredom, the first thought that crossed my mind was, "no, I'm on my own now...don't take my day alone away from me." But after talking to her for a few minutes my non-sensical defenses fell as I realized that a little conversation might brighten the otherwise progressively stodgy afternoon. It was she who informed me of the young artists' competition, advising me to come back that night for the full dress rehearsal which would be free and not as crowded as the televised performance the following evening.

We continued on together and she related to me the stories of nobles and notables whose statues lined the main walkway in front of the Rathaus. Then we headed to the old university building, where she proceeded to tell me of the many professors whose busts lined a beautiful inner courtyard. This after having translated to me a long, Latin plaque relating the history of the university and its administration. In conversation it came out the she was from Hungary and had moved to Vienna in the 60s. She had studied medicine for a time, but for reasons I couldn't quite understand, had had to give it up. She had a son, but no other family. Her extended family, she claimed, had disowned her and denied her a rightful inheritance, leaving her impoverished while they prospered. I wasn't sure what to make of these curious details, but we continued on to a church where she, after examining the concert schedule, expressed a detailed knowledge of the city's various musicians and theaters, past and present. This obviously intelligent yet somewhat scattered woman informed me that she was writing a book, but that it was very difficult to find a publisher. Though I was more than slightly puzzled by this strange encounter, she was obviously very grateful to have someone to share the afternoon and her stories with, and I was glad to listen.

In talking to Laura later, I found out that the woman was homeless, more or less living in a shelter, and that another woman who'd been at the Bible Study was looking out for her when she could. And though I wondered where exactly between her stories the tragedy had struck, in the end, I let it go. I'm sure that many people have tried to help this miraculous woman to get back on her feet, yet with the exception of some frustration about publishing, she seemed relatively content in her current state. She was happy to stroll through this city she loved, inquiring about current events and building on her plethora of knowledge from the past. For sure, neither she nor Vienna have flawless histories, but between the rougher spots there are majestic swells of culture and accomplishment. We departed quickly after leaving the church, as I had to hustle a bit to meet Sarah at the station. And as I wondered what would become of this woman and me and Vienna, it was comforting to know that I had no idea.

Sarah's arrival was a welcome change in pace. We immediately set about economizing to get the best, low-budget impression of a high-class city. Luckily we had seen many a museum, theater and concert on our all-expenses-paid trip to Vienna two years earlier. And with nice weather on our side, we armed ourselves with sunscreen and picnic lunches to soak in the aesthetics of parks and gardens that just so happened to be free of charge.

Palace and Gardens at Schönbrunn

Near a Soviet War Memorial

Though both of us enjoy our jobs and the opportunity to live and work among Germans, it was certainly nice to relax and be "that American tourist," at which we usually roll our eyes. We took silly pictures, created people-watching bingo, and spoke English without being too too careful of the decibel level. After all, we didn't hear much German in Vienna anyway. We ate Wienerschnitzel and ice cream and took a ride on a Ferris wheel at the Prater, a famous Viennese amusement park, which doesn't compare to Knobles let alone Six Flags, but that's what I like about Europe: low-key. What I don't like: over-priced. So we had to be satisfied with our one ride and a few rounds of bingo.

Sarah calls this picture and others like it "jenus interruptus." Fits, I think.

Also on the grounds of Belvedere, no caption needed. ;)

Me on the Ferris Wheel

A picture of us in front of the hotel we stayed in with Dickinson...how things have changed...

A cute one of us in downtown Vienna

"The best education is found while traveling." Gotta love Goethe

Taken in Munich, but falls into the silly pictures category...

After a beautiful, hymns-from-the-red-book Mothers' Day/Pentecost service, the two of us hopped a train to Munich. On the way we passed through Salzburg (yes, Mom, we were humming Sound of Music tunes) and enjoyed some beautiful scenery. It was fairly late when we arrived in her apartment in Dachau. Until the beginning of August, Sarah was working as a volunteer at the concentration camp memorial site there, doing jobs that included giving tours, translating posters, researching survivors, and running the office of the protestant memorial church on the site. I spent a week with her, sometimes staying in Dachau while she worked, other times going into Munich to visit the sites. The town of Dachau, I was surprised to find out, is a really quaint old town. And though at first I felt weird relaxing in such an infamous place, I came to enjoy the more "familiar" smalltown feel, and there were, of course, a few funny pictures to be taken.

The visit to the memorial site was striking. It's embarrassing to admit that as a German major, my first visit to a former concentration camp came a year after graduation. Of course there were the classes and discussions and papers, and I've heard and learned a lot vicariously through Sarah. But even though it was a bright and sunny day, and the grounds today look nothing like they did then, it was an eerie feeling. I can't at all imagine what the prisoners went through, even though quite a few accounts were related to me. You can't understand suffering like that unless you experience it. But what I struggled to wrap my head around was knowing which side of the fence I'd have wound up on, had I lived at that time. It pierced me as I wandered through the outlines of the barracks. I thought about the horrible terror my great-grandparents saved us from by immigrating. I shuddered to think of what I'd have done, or wouldn't have done, in the face of such darkness. It's a horrible, shameful feeling, thinking that I wouldn't have been brave enough to be a Schindler or Bonhoeffer. And it made me wonder how many evils I overlook today, how many I inadvertently benefit from. Despite my title, I'm not the social justice pioneer that many of my colleagues are. When it's time for action I find my feet stuck to the floor and my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth. I want to change this about me, without being someone or something that I'm not. And as I slowly struggle to loose my tongue, I thank Goodness for the wealth of friends, mentors and colleagues who serve as good examples.

I also had the chance to tag along with Sarah to her "Young Democrats Abroad" meeting, which basically involved hanging out at a beer garden and talking about the election. It was strange to be around such a "large" group of US-Americans for the first time since a chance meeting with some Dickinsonians in January. And when I say large, I think there were 9 of us. In Genthin I'm a big fish in a small pond, with the local paper happy to report on my every move so that they can fill their pages. A US-American in Munich is slightly less exotic. In fact, some of them, due to jobs and living situation, didn't even really need to use much German at all. Even those who could speak German had no qualms about ordering in English, and I have to say it felt quite foreign. Even though I'd recently taught an English course and had contact to English-speaking colleagues over the previous months, I definitely experienced a fleeting moment of "native-speaker overload," which subsided by the time we went on a bike tour with the gang a few days later. But living with Sarah was great. Sharing jobs of cooking, cleaning, and shopping (in addition to watching lots of English DVDs and chatting up a storm) was MARVELOUS and we were both very sad when the week came to a close. But before I headed back north, we went to another international UMC church, the one Sarah has been attending since moving to Dachau. The church has two pastors, a married German couple who lead two separate congregations: he the German, she the English. The two of them, Sarah and I, and a few other lay people went out to lunch after the service and had a great time discussing church life and the needs of community. And with another "business trip" behind me, I boarded an express train in the direction of Berlin and arrived safely back in my little apartment a mere 7 hours later. Bye-bye, Bavaria. Hello, Saxonia-Stop.

Stay tuned for more entries coming soon!

A Summer Peace

2008-08-08T14:52:00.004-04:00

08 August 2008

There's that old saying about the calm before the storm, and we know the eye of the hurricane provides a break before the worst hits, but the best peace comes, of course, after the storm has subsided: where there is time to clean-up, reflect and even relax a bit before the sky turns gray again.

A storm is maybe not the best metaphor for the past few months. They've been plenty busy, but not at all destructive. The weather itself has been wonderful: a few hot spurts, but lots of breeze and blue skies...probably not as much rain as we need, but enough that gardens and lawns are still green. And when the weather's nice, it's quite difficult for me to be in a bad mood. As I come up on my one year anniversary in Genthin, life seems pretty normal. I still struggle to answer questions about what it is exactly that I'm doing here, but it no longer sends me into a desperate search for purpose. After two straight months of visits and traveling, I'm content with my empty calendar and the time it's giving me to reflect on everything. And I'm finding myself basking in the calm after the storm. Though, of course, it may actually be the middle or the calm before the storm that I'm living. That's the beauty of life though, really. You just never know.

That I haven't written in nearly half a year is really inexcusable. On occasion I've had the time and energy to write, but as many fellow bloggers know, sometimes life just feels too normal to write about. The foreign-ness of living abroad has long since subsided, and though I continually learn new things about the language and culture, even that has become business as usual. Sometimes it feels like I've been here for more than a year, sometimes I wonder what I've done to fill up all these months. December is quickly approaching, and it won't be long now until I have a plane ticket home. Our midterm dates (week and a half where mission interns regroup before beginning their Stateside term) are set (Jan. 3-14 in Atlanta) and I get the sense that some of my colleagues are ready to be moving on, or are at least looking towards the future. But I'm not there yet. I'm content to sit on my balcony at night and watch the windmills wave and blink in the distance. As is always the case, the closer I get to the end, the more friends I make, the more travel destinations I discover, and the more content I am with the routine and life I've developed. It's silly really, as if the bikes and trains and coffee and cake were keeping me here, and not my work or the people. That's not exactly true, of course. But one expects to miss the people and projects, not the windmills and flatlands. And as I live my last summer in Europe for a while, I really wish that time would just slow down.

But time doesn't slow down, of course. Neither here nor at home. I've had the last week all to myself with no definite activities planned, and I haven't been bored at all, even when not being so productive. There are always birthdays and pool parties and invitations to lunch or coffee. And there are new births and weddings and announcements of coming weddings and children. I've missed quite a few of these back home among my own family and friends and wish it weren't the case. But at some point one gets used to "missing out," or rather is able to rejoice from a distance without the desperate need to witness everything first-hand. Yet perhaps the fact that I'll get to play catch-up in just a few short months also helps the situation.

Well, with that scattered and uninformative introduction, I invite you to read of my "adventures" over the past few months. Happy reading now, because I can't promise that another entry will come in the next six months. :)

Of Being and Belonging

2008-03-12T16:04:00.003-04:00

At last, the entry alluded to in the previous epic of a blog is here. Rather than going into the nitty-gritty of some of the situations as was originally planned, I'm going to post here an article I wrote for my church newsletter back home (so Lehman members reading this before April, you won't have as much to look forward to in the Lamplighter. :) ) In any case, it basically sums up some of the internal struggle I've had with this church separation, or at least where I stand at the moment. I've also added some pictures of Shannon's visit to the previous entry. For some reason I forgot to add them before. Enjoy!

Of Being and Belonging

In my last update I mentioned that most of my work in Genthin has fallen into the “ministry of being” category. I have been among young and old; Russian, German, and Russian-German; Methodists, Catholics, Lutherans, and non-denominationalists; people lacking relation to any faith, people who have recently left the church, and those who have recently joined. And while I am very grateful for the insights this has given me, in the last month I have been faced with the question, where do I stand?

To a certain extent, I very much admire the “homeless,” and I mean not only those lacking shelter. I envy social butterflies, who are welcome everywhere, no more a part of one group than another. I wish that I could respond affirmatively when people say, “so you feel at home in Genthin by now, right?”, or rather that it would matter less to me that this isn’t the case. And it sure sounds nice when people are able to say, “I’m a Christian and that’s all that matters. The particular church isn’t all that important.” But after living through six months of congregational fallout, I find myself incapable of making such a claim.

Since September (before I knew about the upcoming separation) I had been helping to lead worship in the praise band among the group who has now left the UMC. When an announcement came that the official move might be happening sooner than expected, I found myself very uneasy. How could I, happily a member and employee of one church, continue to lead worship among a group who has rejected that same church? Months of comments regarding my position came to a head when asked point blank by an “outside” friend, “so where are you now? With the Methodists or with Eklesia?” I was dumbfounded. Was it really so unclear? His question was an obvious sign that it was time to take some action.

And to me that action involved resigning from their praise team. But how was I to explain myself? It led me to hours of reflecting on why I’m a member of our denomination, and why I find it important to decide for one church at all. But my many bullet points were not about to convince a group that sees denomination as a stumbling block to true faith. How could I be honest without destroying the relationships I’d built over the past six months? Would it be possible to continue a ministry of being while no longer belonging?

Well, I’m still working through the answers. I made the announcement towards the end of February. Though most seemed to take it rather well, I know that not all understand my position. One woman, whose children I meet with weekly for English lessons, responded particularly negatively (most likely on account of my own poor word choice). Yet I showed up as always for English the next week, much to her surprise. The kids were excited to have me back, and I noticed that I felt much more comfortable in their home than I had over the past few months.

If we follow Christ’s example, it is clear that our calling is to break cultural, societal, and religious boundaries. Yet I found this “border crossing” to be much easier, or at least more bearable, when I first recognized who I was and where I stood. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be a member of a particular church or congregation. It’s ok to find a church home, to believe in the future of your church, and to feel a special bond with those who share your denomination, congregation, or pew. These connections are there to provide support and assurance as well as room to grow. It’s when they are used to claim superiority, condemn others, or foster exclusivity that they become a problem.

And so I breathe a little sigh of relief when I get excited about singing a Wesley hymn, or when I hear that yet another friend has found her church home in a Methodist congregation. Likewise I understand why one friend gets excited about praying the rosary and another about worshipping in a school or movie theatre. For each of us, these details are warm reminders of the faith we have chosen, providing strength and pointing to the greater communities in which we live. And I, for one, believe that this acknowledgement of belonging makes being in fellowship with one another much easier.

A little bit of everything...

2008-01-21T05:15:00.009-05:00

22 February 2008

Well my friends, the time has come. I am finally sitting in my apartment in Genthin with regular access to the greater world through this miracle that is the internet. After months of struggling to figure out exactly what was lacking, I finally stumbled upon the perfect combination just after Christmas; this was the best Christmas present I ever received, second to the Christ child, of course (missionary disclaimer :) ). Unfortunately, my sigh of relief lasted only a few days until my AC adaptor broke. After having to wait another 10 days and go through quite the hassle to get the new part, I'm up and running again. However, I've learned not to get to comfortable with this luxury and I'm practically waiting for the next obstacle to arise. Nevertheless, I'm happy to be writing my first "live" blog, as I celebrate six months in Genthin.

I'll warn you now that this entry is long and relatively non-insightful. Because of the huge gap in entries, I feel obligated to fill in the blanks and give a more organized overview as far as the "action" is concerned. A more "inner" perspective will follow in the next entry, so stay tuned.

Here are the Top Ten happenings in my life since October (in order of occurrance, not coolness):

1. Prayers for Peace A German ecumenical tradition is the 10-day "Friedensdekade" before the Day of Prayer and Confession (Wednesday before the last Sunday of the liturgical year). This November event began separately in East and West Germany in 1980 with the goal of bringing Christians together to pray for peace, justice, and protection of the environment. Such Christian solidarity was certainly looked down upon and even viewed as dissention in the GDR (former East Germany). Yet I'm convinced that it's events like these that have strengthened and secured positive ecumenical relations in Genthin. The Lutherans, Catholics, Methodists, and Adventists all contributed to the evening meditations, and even I was asked to hold one. A bit nervous about public-speaking in German, and disappointed with the suggested meditation for the day, I set out on my own to prepare some thoughts on poverty. My night was towards the end of the 10 days and there had been only about 15 people attending on average. Wouldn't you know that over 30 showed up on my night. I was nervous and felt my thoughts to be simple compared to the deeper theological ponderings I'd heard the week before, but it actually went okay. I was able to talk about my work, explain the projects of some of my colleagues (who are really on the front lines as far as poverty is concerned), and I perhaps even encouraged some of the Lutheran confirmands to consider the significance of church beyond Genthin. My supervisor from New York was also visiting that night and she got to see me "live in action." Probably would have helped if she knew some German...

2. Anna and Alex tie the knot Shortly upon returing to Genthin from the States, Anna (a young woman who plays keyboard in the praise band) asked me if I would be her bridesmaid for the church wedding ceremony. [In Germany as in many countries, the religious wedding ceremony is not sufficient for granting the legal status of marriage; thus couples will go first to city hall for the "legal" ceremony, and those who chose to have the religious blessing will later have a church service. Many times these ceremonies will occur on separate days, as it was with Anna and Sasha (Alex).] There was only one bridesmaid and one groomsman for the ceremony, so I was very honored to be asked. I wound up hardly being involved at all in the preparations, most likely because I had never experienced a Russian(-German) wedding first-hand and wouldn't have known where to start. Luckily the group here had things under control; there have been quite a few weddings in the past 5 or so years and the women here could probably swing it blind-folded with one hand tied behind their backs. I really wish I'd written a detailed entry about the wedding because it was an absolutely amazing experience. They provided excellent food, a beautiful setting (much more decorating and arranging done by hand), and hours of entertainment. The reception was full of games, many involving "fees" paid by the guests in order to participate. All the money collected went to the new couple, of course, and it's a very accurate outward reflection of the inner support their community provides. Almost all of the men and women who regularly attend the Saturday night service were heavily involved in cooking, cleaning, setting up, tearing down, and entertaining the guests. I made a special appearance in one skit as Marilyn Monroe (unfortunately (or not so) I don't have any pictures of that to post), and many other "stars" attended the reception as well. Natasha, the organizer and MC of the entertianment, also had many team-building games for the couple to play. Without using hands the two of them had to eat an apple hanging from a string. Then they had to braid three cords together using Sasha's left and Anna's right hand. There were other games to predict who would play which role in the marriage--cleaning, cooking, playing with the kids, doing the yardwork. I really liked the one game where Sasha "won" most of the traditionally women's chores while Anna got things like, read, relax, lay in the sun. There was, of course, the traditional Russian sharing of bread and salt at the beginning of the reception; both bride and groom eat from the loaf and whoever takes the bigger bite is meant to be head of the household. This is, of course, more an exercise in female submission than an eating contest, but it wasn't my wedding, so I took it with a grain of salt. :) Since December 1 was in the middle of the semester, there was no honeymoon for the two of them (they're 23 and 21), but they moved in down the street from me, and I'm very happy to have them close-by.

3. Extended Cabinets Meeting in Braunfels At the invitation of Rosemarie Wenner (Bishop of the Germany Central conference of the United Methodist Church), I attended a meeting of all European and Eurasian bishops and district superintendents, beginning the day after the wedding. I was brought to assist in German-Russian interpreting, which I can honestly say I thoroughly botched. I'd protested from the beginning, saying that I didn't possess the skills, but pastor and bishop refused to listen, much to the misfortune of the Eurasian delegation who got only half of a morning Bible study, and more confusion than necessary during small group time. The first 24 hours were painful, but after I came to terms with my shortcomings, I had an absolutely amazing time. I thought it might be awkward being around church "higher-ups" as a lowly intern, but why do I always have such low expectations of people? Not once did I feel like I was talked down to or merely "tolerated." Everyone was genuinely interested in me, my work in Genthin, and the fact that as an American I would speak any foreign language. I loved singing the hymns in multiple languages, hearing countless stories of small "successes" in what many view as a dying European church. If the church leadership can be so full of hope, then certainly I could give Genthin a little more effort. And so that I don't give up completely on my linguistic abilities, I picked up a written translation job (German to English) to assist the DS in Estonia with his pastoral reviews. There's nothing like being a part of a world-wide church.

4. Jen turns 23 I'm not going to say that 23 is old, but I'm starting to feel a bit more grown-up. I'm noticing that numerous sports stars and other accomplished persons are starting to be younger than me. I'm only slightly past American "college age," relatively young in the German Uni culture, but in Genthin practically an old maid. 23 and unmarried and not even concerned about "securing" a match? This difference in mentality presents a struggle multiple times a week, but my actual birthday was worry-free. A few days beforehand, my friend Sarah visited from Dachau/Munich. Together we decorated an artificial Christmas tree in my apartment and made a birthday cake, accidentally with apricot jelly! (Tasted just fine.) On Dec. 11th I had brunch with my pastor and his wife in Magdeburg, went Christmas shopping, had guests for coffee and cake (a good mix of neighbors and church members), and celebrated at youth group with MC Natasha (we have exactly the same birthday, December 11, 1984, only she's married with her second kid on the way). It was a great, full day, and I'm hoping to celebrate my 24th in Genthin as well, just a few days before returning to the States.

5. Fröhliche Weihnachten and a Happy New Year! I spent my second holiday season away from home this year, but there's really no need to pity me. Almost since I stepped off the plane in August, various families had been concerned with where I would be spending Christmas Eve. I traveled with my pastor to Magdeburg on the 24th and spent Christmas with his family (wife, three boys (13, 10, 7), and two guinnea pigs). The next day was spent back in Genthin with the extended family of our church mother, Frau Schlüter. The 26th was the blessed day I got internet, the 31st the day my computer died. New Years Eve I spent with the lay preacher, his family, and some other members of the group who are now leaving the church. It was a relatively low-key, relaxing evening compared to my Russian New Years two years ago, but we shot off a heck of a lot more fireworks in Genthin. This holiday season the congregation also celebrated the birth of two baby boys, Joseph and Jonathan, born Dec. 23 and Jan. 2. I'm good friends with the proud parents, and all are happy and healthy.

6. Meet the Press Coincidentally I met a local newspaper reporter at an ecumenical advent event in December. After exchanging a few words, he asked if he could do a story on me, so we met shortly after New Years to chat a bit about my work. This interview was actually helpful for me in a lot of ways. First, it forced me to put aside some pretty nasty post-holiday depression that had set in and focus on the future of my work in Genthin. Not wanting anything to appear in the paper from my lips about the church break-up situation, I did some serious brain-storming about the other work I could be doing, which I'll talk about a little later. Most importantly, the feedback I've gotten from this article has done wonders in keeping me accountable to staying on task, getting some definite dates and goals written down, and in helping me to see the plethora of opportunities our church has for growth. Though most of you probably don't read German, if you're interested I can e-mail you a downloaded copy of the article.

7. Church Growth Seminar I attended a second UMC conference in the beginning of January. This time the invitation was to leaders of international (mainly English-speaking) congregations in Europe, though most of them are located within Germany. It was wonderful to break out the American hymnal and also to discuss migration, immigration, and congregational integration. There were plenty of American expats in the group, as well as colleagues from the General Board of Global Ministries. I even met the co-worker of one young adult missionary colleague and the aunt of another. It's a small world after all. I spent a good deal of time with TK, who's in charge of about 25 Zimbabwean congregations in London, and Krista, a GBGM colleage in Hamburg, and collected a few invitations for further travels and possible speaking engagements. Though my work in Genthin is a little different than the challenges that some of these congregations face, there are of course similarities, and I was happy to learn from my elders (in both meanings of the word). Again, I was accepted as an equal part of the group alongside clergy and lay leaders, and very happy to be a part of an international church.

8. Integration--it really happens! In early January I was invited to attend the combined birthday party of an older couple from the congregation. As a couple, however, they're actually quite young. He lost his wife 6 years ago after a long battle with cancer. She lost two husbands in Ukraine. But mourning turned to joy for the both of them. His wife and her son-in-law were both buried in the cemetary in Genthin...and a chance meeting there has led to their partnership for the past four years. I was very honored to have been invited to their family party. I was a little nervous at first because besides the two of them, I wouldn't really know anyone. But I should have known better. I arrived late due to a worship service, and many people had already left, but there was still a table full of Russian and German treats...and many people who were interested in meeting me. But what amazed me the most was the interaction between the two families. Even those who had a hard time speaking German were making every effort to do so, and a granddaughter was providing translation when necessary. There was such a warmth in the room. 20 years ago no one would have thought that such an international meeting would take place in a Genthin apartment. Helmut, whose birthday we were celebrating, received some flac from neighbors and acquaintances when he annouced he would be moving with Olga to Einstein Street, often referred to as the ghetto of Genthin and where you're likely to hear more Russian than German. But as he recounted this to me, he said he doesn't regret it one bit. Here they are close to her family (his children and relatives don't live in Genthin), and as he walks down the street he says he is always being greeted by people...even those he doesn't know. Her family has completely adopted him, yelling "Papa" and "Opa" across the street when they pass each other in town. And their pets, Petele the parakeet and Rex the German shepherd, are loved by all. The evening would have been a perfect documentary news report on the successes of integration, but I'm so glad no one called in the reporters. This isn't the stuff that diversity seminars bring about; it's the work of the heart.

9. Shannon's Visit I was super excited to find out last fall that my friend Shannon would be coming to visit after spending a semester studying with the Dickinson program in Tolouse, France. I suppose Genthin wasn't exactly on her way home, but I'm sure glad she chose to make it a part of her trip. I picked her up in Berlin on a Monday and we came back to Genthin for a few days where she met many of the people I work with and even attended two evening meetings. I found my German-English interpretation skills to be significantly better than my Russian-German abilities, so it went okay. It was so great to have someone coming from a similar perspective take a look at the situation here. She assured me that many of my frustrations are warranted, but encouraged me to work around them instead of fighting through them. We went to Berlin for a few nights so that she could see a bit of German city life. We saw most of the major "downtown" sights with my friend Miriam, visited the Charlottenburg Palace, and coincidentally met up with a group of Dickinson students in the Checkpoint Charlie museum. Shannon and I had plenty of time to catch up, talk about the future, vent about stuff, and just be silly. I have to say my favorite part was just living with someone again. I'm very grateful to have my own place, but having someone around for five whole days was a real treat. I was really sad to see her go and immediately felt her absence in the quiet apartment, but also had a renewed motivation to get to work upon her departure.

One little intern and one little church.

Nothing like grilled cheese and Cambell's tomato soup on a chilly January day in Genthin!

United Methodists at the Brandenburg Gate, Berlin. (Miriam Meinhardt, responsible for kids' and youth ministries in our district, is taking the picture and therefore unfortunately not shown.)

During a walk around the grounds of the Charlottenburg Palace, Berlin

Dickinsonians in the Checkpoint Charlie Museum.

10. Valentines Fun Valentines Day is always a fun holiday for me. Thanks to my mom's enthusiasm about little holidays (we even celebrate "monthaverseries" on our birthdate of every month), I grew up associating Valentines with cute cards, a small present or two, having something pink or red to wear, and eating DELICIOUS heart-shaped butter cookies with creamy, pink icing. That and the fact that I'm a little bit further removed from the American commercialist hype, I could enjoy the 14th without any resentment towards cute, cuddly couples. But for those of you who had to deal with that, or worse yet, spent Valentines thousands of miles apart from that special someone, my sympathies. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday before hand making Mom's valentines cookies by myself for the first time. I now understand why homemade cookie-cutter cookies aren't more popular the whole year around. At first the dough wouldn't roll...it was stuck all over my fingers, the rolling pin, the cabinet handles as I grabbed for back-up supplies. I was sure that I wouldn't see a single cookie for the 3 or 4 pounds of dough I'd made. But that was just an early loss in the cookie battle. I wound up with about 120 of the suckers spread all over my living room table. I had to modify the icing ingredients a little. I don't know what Germans have against vanilla extract, but you can't find it anywhere except for super-fancy or international stores...which of course Genthin is full of. The red food coloring didn't have any sort of dropper-top, so I wound up adding more than I wanted turning them all hot pink instead of pastel, but they actually tasted almost identical to what I remember. (which was NOT the case with the chocolate chip cookies I made at Christmas...I wound up throwing them in the trash---how tragic!) In the afternoon of the 14th I was invited to my neighbor's flat for coffee and cake. I brought the cookies along and they were a big hit, as they were later that night back at Olga and Helmut's (see Integration) for senior home group. I received multiple requests for the recipe (which I'll have to translate as well as convert to metric) and was even told that mine tasted better than the traditional German Christmas cookie. I wasn't going to say anything, but... ;)

Since the bolded list thing seems to be working for me, I'll continue using that for to talk about some of my future projects:

Oral History Project I'm hoping to start work soon with the older, Russian-German members of the congregation to record some of their stories. This idea first occurred to me back in September when I attended the burial of a women I never met, but who in her 96 years had lived through two world wars, the Russian Revolution, Stalin's purges, and numerous other persecutions on account of her German heritage. At the age of 92 she moved to Germany, passing away four years later in the land for whose association she had suffered so much. Thinking of all the stories the world would no longer hear from this woman, I brainstormed an oral history project, which I'm unfortuntately just now beginning to plan and research more seriously. More details on this project in the next entry.

Young Women's Group Though "Eklesia" (the name of the group that's leaving our church) is now officially their own, separate entity and soon will be leaving the Methodist premises, I have decided to continue organizing the monthly women's breakfast group. This is a good challenge for me, not only in it being a lingual balancing act, but that it's very difficult to lead a group (and by leading, I mean just coming up with discussion questions) when my worldview is so different than that of the participants. And it's not even just the worldview, it's the fact that we have entirely different opinions on the purpose of a small group. But more about this in the next entry as well.

Young Adult Group Another project in the wings is a young adult "topics" group that I'm hoping to start sometime in march. The biggest problem with this is, there aren't very many young adults to draw from among the Methodist group. My fear that the whole thing will just bomb has left me dragging my feet on this, which is no excuse. But I have become much closer with the church's two most active young adults, Christina and Patrick, who will be getting married in June. (yay, another wedding!)

Family Services In an attempt to bring more young people and families into the congregation, we're hoping to start having regular "family services," which are common in German churches. The weekly committment of coming to church proves to be too much for many young families. By designating certain Sundays as family services, motivation to attend is increased, and the church workers can plan children's programming accordingly.

English Conversation Course In April I'm beginning a conversational English course at the church, hoping that this will also bring some new faces into the congregation. I'm planning to host some "American nights" as well throughout the month, where I can talk a bit about life back home, especially in regards to the church. I'm also currently giving some English lessons on the side to various children in the community.

All in all, the past month or two have been pretty tough (more in the next entry). The short, cold, cloudy days, weeks of sickness, lack of motivation and fear of starting new things have left me feeling idle and neglectful. But I know that mercies are new every morning, and the truth is I do have plenty of work to do. Having breaks in my time in Genthin also helps, and I have quite enough of them to look forward to:

Hamburg/Bremen Tomorrow after a meeting in Berlin I'll be heading to Hamburg to visit Krista (see Church Growth Seminar) and her English-speaking congregation. Then I'll travel on to Bremen to spend the week with my former host family and catch up with a few of my friends who are still studying and/or working in the city.

Leipzig After Christina and Patrick's wedding, I'll be traveling back to Leipzig with the bride's aunt, uncle, and cousins (ages 18 and 16). Tim (18) spent the last academic year as an exchange student in Alden, PA. I get nostalgic seeing his Eagles T-shirt. I didn't see Leipzig on my first trip to Germany, so I'm excited for the exploring and change of scenery. My friend Joe, who was on the Dickinson program in Bremen with me, is currently studying in Leipzig and I'll be meeting up with him as well.

Vienna/Munich In May I'm making my rounds of the southern English-speaking UMC congregations where my regional executive at GBGM (Jim) served. First I'll be heading to Vienna for a long weekend (accompanied by my friend Sarah, who's working in Dachau). Then the two of us will head back to the Munich area for a week of vacation/church visits and speaking. Though I've been both places before, I'm looking forward to seeing Vienna in the spring and Munich before it's unbearably hot.

Annual Conference For at least a few days at the end of May I'm hoping to attend my first annual conference of the UMC. The North Germany Annual Conference will be addressing faith issues (as opposed to more businessy stuff) this time, and it sounds really exciting...if only I could get an invitation, hint hint nudge nudge, dear district superindendent!

Taize In July I'm planning to travel with a group led by the Lutheran pastor in town to the Taize monastery in France. 10 days of tenting and meditating should be fun...especially for someone who hasn't camped since...ok, who's never really camped.

Reutlingen At some point in the fall I'd like to visit the UMC's one German seminary in Reutlingen. I'll tag along with a new student orientation or something to get a feel for the campus where so many of the dear, distinguished pastors that I work with attended school. Longings for academia kicked in long before I expected them to, but I am also at peace with the fact that I have a good, long time before my next major life decision needs to be made. As I promised my boss when she was here in November, I have not looked at ANY grad school or seminary websites since arriving here and with the exception of planning for this visit will not do so. I am trying very hard at the moment to live in the present, which is not always easy in surroundings that often appear bleak. But I want to remain open to the insights my US work will give me, so there's no use planning fall of 2010 at this point.

Well, that's enough of the nitty-gritty for now. Stay tuned for the next entry!

Alles auf Einmal (Everything at Once)

2007-10-20T13:12:00.001-04:00

Greetings faithful blog readers…though I am well aware that you haven’t had anything new to read for quite some time. But today is your lucky day. After 8 weeks of adventures with no updates, I’m finally posting. Unfortunately, it’s not because I’ve finally straightened out the internet situation in my Genthin apartment. Instead, I’m sitting at home in North Wales, PA sorting through the hundreds of e-mails and Facebook messages that have accumulated over the last two months.

Even though I was without internet, I did write some blogs about the beginning of my time in Genthin, so you can read them below. This entry will include the most recent happenings, so for those who like to go chronologically, start at the bottom and work your way up. The day I wrote the entries is listed under the post-date to give you a frame of reference.

So much has gone on over the last two weeks that it’s hard to know where to start. Also, because so much has happened I’m struggling to remember many of the details. I apologize in advance if this entry is a little less descriptive than normal.

The biggest news from Genthin came two Saturdays ago when the younger, contemporary congregation of Genthin EmK announced that they are breaking ties to the Methodist Church as of March 1, 2008. They have formed and official association [Verein] with board of directors and are now looking to find a building in Genthin where they can hold their worship services and continue other ministries (both in Russian and German). As far as I know the exact reasons for the break have not been clearly enumerated, but revolve mostly around theological differences and varying goals for ministry. The announcement simultaneously surprised everyone and no one; the attendees of both services in Genthin have long functioned as separate congregations, but no one saw an official split coming this soon.

At least my direct employers were not aware of the situation. The question was recently posed to me: “If you’d known that the situation was such, would you have still wanted to go?” Honestly, I hadn’t even considered this hypothetical. Through all the turmoil and stress that mounts in such cases, I’ve had a very strong sense that Genthin—of all places under the sun—is exactly where I need to be right now. Maybe it’s not so bad to have an extra set of eyes, ears and hands as the congregation goes through this transition. Mordecai’s words to Esther, “for such a time as this,” have been ringing in my ears since before I knew of the break. Despite living alone, having next to no contact with friends and family outside of Genthin, and speaking English only once a week on the phone, I’ve been doing pretty well. Now as I look back, surrounded by the comforts of home, I almost wonder how I survived. But I have my Anchor.

Courtesy of Liz Hooks

It certainly wasn’t smooth sailing after the announcement was made. The days that followed were trying on my soul as I attempted (though perhaps not too successfully) to remain a neutral party. Desperately needing someone to talk to, I called my mom two Tuesdays ago (October 9) to vent my frustrations, only to hear that my grandmother’s health had significantly worsened and that my family was in the middle of a decision to take her off life support. Now at the end of my rope in more ways than one, I quickly bought a plane ticket home, arriving Friday the 12th to find that she had passed away earlier that afternoon. However, my family and I are very much at peace with her passing. In the end, she was suffering greatly, telling my grandfather that she didn’t want to go back to the hospital, but rather to Heaven. After 82 years—nearly 61 years of marriage—with 3 children, 9 grandchildren and 4 great-grandchildren, she was ready to go Home. The rest of us came home to celebrate her wonderful life, and I am so glad that I was here to be a part of it.

Yet even before the funeral on Tuesday (the 16th…also my parents’ 25th wedding anniversary), I knew I had made the right decision to return. Sunday’s sermon focused on Paul’s second letter to Timothy—a young pastor nearing burn-out on account of his congregations quarrels. And among all the encouragement Paul gives, he reminds Timothy to remember and receive strength from the faith of his mother and grandmother. Even had the sermon not been such a perfect response to my present situation, the simple opportunity to worship in love and freedom would have been enough to overflow my cup. The world, my head and my heart may be spinning, but my feet are on solid ground.

I was able to spend the better part of two days this week back at Dickinson visiting friends, professors and mentors. I think I went a little over the top by attending a class and choir practice. It’s always surreal to return to such places after one leaves, but the spontaneity of this visit added an extra element of the absurd. It was WONDERFUL to see friends that I wasn’t expecting to see for years (or perhaps ever!). At the same time, it sent up a red flag saying, “this chapter of your life is over; there’s no going back.” I’m positive that my trip to Carlisle will make the transition back to my sixth floor apartment harder than it would have been otherwise, but that’s not to say that I regret it. It reawakened and reenergized the academic side of me, but more than that reminded me that I am supported by and important to a great many people. And I don’t care what they say…if love is true, real and genuine—you can never have too much.

With only a few days left at home, I find myself debating what’s more challenging: going into a situation you know nothing about, or returning to something that you know is quite complicated. In the end it doesn’t really matter; I’m going where I need to be going. And I’m going with renewed strength, confidence and support.

Recalling your tears, I long to see you so that I may be filled with joy. I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you. For this reason I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you… II Timothy 1:4-6a

Daily Life

2007-10-20T12:56:00.000-04:00

30 September 2007

It’s now been over a month in Genthin…and still no internet. With any luck, things will be up and running before the end of October. Meanwhile, I’ll continue to blog to myself. Even if I can’t keep you all updated, I’ll at least be able to reflect upon the last few weeks and keep my English composition skills from going to the dogs. (I’m afraid, however, that they already have. It’s taken me a good 10 minutes to write those few lines.) Regardless (ha! At least I didn’t write irregardless, though for some reason Spell-check recognizes that as correct), allow me to describe the last few weeks of adventures here in the “Pearl on the Canal.”

Though I write that tongue-in-cheek, life in Genthin—for me at least—has been quite adventurous over the last 10 days…or at least busy. Here’s an overview of my weekly schedule: my workweek begins on Friday evenings with praise band rehearsal, which is followed by Russian home group that runs until about 11 o’clock. One would think that the gang would be tired out, as Friday is the end of their workweek. However, some of the most intense spiritual discussions have taken place during these meetings, and I usually return home exhausted. I have “off” on Saturday mornings and early afternoons, though because it’s the only day that everyone else has free, I rarely lack something to do. We meet at 3:30 to rehearse again before the Saturday night Russian service, which runs for two hours on average (varying as the Spirit moves ;)). Lately I’ve been “hanging out” with some of the young people afterwards, making Saturday another late night. Sundays are the traditional services in German which alternate between 9:30 am and 2:30 pm. On the Sundays when we have “Late service” [Spätgottesdienst] I’ve been trying to visit other congregations in the morning. I often get a lunch invitation from one of the congregation members, as “it’s not right to eat alone on Sunday.” Around 4:30 pm the young adults from the Russian congregation meet to play volleyball. I usually stop by to chat with spectators, aka wives who watch the children while the men get their weekly workout. Sunday nights, however, are one of the few that I have at home, and I take advantage of that time to talk to my parents (and write blog entries!). Mondays I teach English to the kids for an hour early in the afternoon and then attend the German young adult home group in the evening, which doesn’t go quite as long as the Russian one. The only scheduled event on Tuesdays is the Russian young adult group from 6-8 at night. Wednesdays I teach English again and have Russian Bible Study in the evening. Thus I have declared Thursdays to be my weekend…the one day of the week where I TRY to have no other obligations. Yet every two weeks I have Gospel choir and once a month the Senior circle meets on Thursday evenings.

And though it seems that I have a lot of time during the day, I’ve been finding a plethora of ways to fill that up. Besides the normal cleaning, shopping, cooking shenanigans, I’ve been visiting with congregation members, meeting with the pastor, taking care of paperwork for my visa, and tending to other errands that arise. I often have a lot of time alone, but such is also necessary for mission work. I’m currently trying to read through the Gospel of John trilingually…and that’s taxing to say the least. I’m also working my way through a collection of Peter Storey’s sermons and when I just can’t take any more religion, I gladly turn to Vladimir Kaminer’s Russendisko, a collection of anecdotes from immigrant life in Berlin over the past 20 years, written by a Russian Jew. [I don’t know if it’s available in English, but it’s quite amusing and I highly recommend it to my German-speaking compatriots. And to my “colleagues” :) in Germanistik—it could be especially helpful for a class taught on immigration to Germany…hint hint nudge nudge, Dickinson. ;)] I also journal nearly every day—something I’ve always done while living abroad—and that can take hours depending on how much I need to process. I also spend lots of time praying and worshipping alone, as it’s my only chance to do so in my native language. (I do, however, often “cheat” and say the Lord’s prayer or sing familiar hymns in English during our weekly services. Traditions die hard.)

I’ve recently received a surprising amount of letters from home (and I thought snail mail was dead!), which I’m gradually trying to answer. This is quite time consuming; since no one can read the blog entries I’ve already written, I have to try and summarize a month’s worth of activities and impressions with each letter I write. And I have to remember how to spell in English. :) The letters brought on a brief bout of homesickness last week. I’m not one to agonize over life’s transitions, but now that my friends and I are scattered to the four winds, nostalgia for life within the limestone [walls of Dickinson] is kicking in. Even so, not once have I doubted my decision to come back to the Bundesrepublik [Federal Republic of Germany], which—by the way—will celebrate its 17th birthday on Wednesday. [The Wall fell on Nov. 9, 1989, but the two Germanies were not united until almost a year later: Oct. 3, 1990. At that time I was celebrating my connection to German culture by attending Kindergarten. ;)]

I know plenty of people, fellow German majors included, who would find 16 months in this “hole in the wall” to rank not much above torturous. Yet I beg to differ. For one, there are much smaller “holes in the wall” than Genthin—metropolis of 14,000 that it is. We have a train station and a handful of bus routes—most of which take people to those other “holes,” but still. Though frustrations and small-town-blues inevitably occur, Genthin is the place for me. For years I’ve read books, watched movies, and sat through courses discussing Russian and German history, culture, politics and economics, but now I’m FINALLY sitting in the middle of it. Every week I hear first-hand accounts of what it was like to live through these major events in history from all perspectives. Years of Stasi control…persecution under Stalin. Confinement behind the Iron Curtain…exile beyond the Urals. At age 10 one woman here was awoken in the middle of the night by Polish soldiers, giving her family but hours to pack and leave their property which was no longer located on German soil. I’ve met different people who were denied higher education (even a high school diploma) in the GDR [East Germany], one because of his parents’ Christian faith, the other because of his parents’ Nazi connections. With the major ideological and cultural shifts these families have lived through, one might suspect to find identity crises and depression to be running rampant, and you most certainly can find that in Genthin. However, this church community—even for all its faults—is a strong witness to the sustaining power of faith and the miraculous grace of God, who acts regardless of ruler or regime. After years of oppression and persecution, “native” Germans and Russian-Germans have come together under one roof, excited and thankful for their religious freedom. That is a beautiful thing. Yet as is true of most churches, this freedom has given space for significant disunity over manner and means of worship, Biblical interpretation, and personal expression of belief. And I also have the privilege of sitting in the middle of this. As a pastor-friend of mine articulately stated, “welcome to ministry.”

That’s not to say that I mind; this is what I’m here for. I go from days where my head is spinning, to times when I just have to shake my head and laugh. I’ve done a lot of listening and (shockingly!) very little talking…that is, unless I’m talking to someone from back home on the phone, in which case the other party doesn’t get a word in edgewise. (Call at your own risk. ;)) It’s hard for me to form my own opinions at times because I can understand why each group or individual feels the way it/he/she does. However, I am—of course—usually more partial to the practices that I’m familiar and comfortable with. That’s not always a good thing, but not entirely bad either. It’s made me consider why I value the things I value. Though I don’t always wind up with a perfect explanation…or any explanation, for that matter…it’s an important part of growing in this position and as a person. 9.5 times out of 10 I find it to be a welcome challenge.

I also continue to welcome opportunities to get out of Genthin and to meet people outside of the congregation, though lately I’ve been less successful in this venture. It’s comforting to know, however, that Magdeburg, Potsdam, Brandenburg and Berlin are direct train rides away. One of these days I’m going to wake up and say, “I’m going to Checkpoint Charlie,” but for now, I’ve retained peace and sanity in Genthin.

No new pictures at the moment. I completely wiped out and then reinstalled everything on this computer and I’m waiting for my camera software to arrive via post. Sorry if this entry was too long-winded without a visual reward at the end, but thanks for reading!

PS, don’t shy away from writing letters on account of my homesickness.

The Pearl at the End of the Rainbow

2007-10-20T12:06:00.000-04:00

19 September 2007

Fall is coming to Genthin. Not that the weather has been at all warm since I arrived, but now there are little heaps of leaves gathering in the dips of the road and in corners of buildings…giving evidence to the season’s change. The air is cooler, drier, and generally…it smells like autumn. I have always loved our fall custom that as the natural world comes to the end of its year, we are usually just beginning ours.

And so it is with me. Though I’ve been here nearly a month (still without internet :(), I’m still taking in my surroundings. I more or less know the lay of the land; it’s the way of the land that takes some getting used to. Yes, I have already spent a good deal of time abroad…even in Germany…but there are things I’ve forgotten, things that are different from Bremen, and new hurdles now that I’m no longer a student and for most intents and purposes, “on my own.” Trying to get registration documents in order as well as getting internet set-up have been among my “official” challenges. The others are a bit more difficult to describe.

What is a 22-year-old, single, American woman doing in the “post-Soviet wilderness?” (to quote a friend of mine). Good question. Living, for one. Working for the church…though as of yet I haven’t done anything but meet congregation members and attend events already in place. After a month, I really don’t have much of anything to show for my presence…and I’m sure the congregation’s a big confused too. But my first month was supposed to be a time of adjusting and settling in, and if that’s the case, then I’ve been hard at work.

As I mentioned in the last blog, I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting of life in Genthin and in this congregation, so I go from being surprised at times to being fairly neutral at others. Silly me, I didn’t think that being a “missionary” working in a church meant that my own beliefs and motives would be tested on an almost daily basis. (Duh!) The young people I’m working with have a very fervent faith that’s expressed differently than I’ve come to express my own, and even if there weren’t a language barrier (or two) between us, I’d be hard-pressed to articulate answers to questions I haven’t considered in recent years or ever. During my training in New York City, there were plenty of times when those around me expressed beliefs and opinions that I did not particularly hold to, but we were still asking the same questions, coming from a similar perspective. I have never known a world without church, and for most of the people here, a very intentional decision for faith has been made within the last 5-10 years. To me, it makes perfect sense that the details of what we believe and how we express our faith would be a bit varied. Knowing that hardly makes it easier for me to explain why I don’t consider traditional worship to be spiritless nor a critical approach to Scripture to be heretical. There are plenty of times where I’ve felt like holes have been shot through my faith—and rightfully so. I’m not as evangelical as I probably should be and I’m sure that I all too often take advantage of the grace I’ve been given. So I’m struggling to find a balance between embracing the common ground we have and being secure enough in my own belief to say, “actually, I don’t see it that way.” To date, there hasn’t been much of the latter, but I’m not exactly looking to ostracize myself in the first month.

So here are a few things I have done: I joined a gospel choir at another local church. They sing the majority of their songs in English and I LOVE having the opportunity to be the only one in the room without an accent. I find it endearing when the Germans articulate the t in ain’t, because that’s a word that must be said properly (and for the record, ain’t ain’t comin’ up as a word in my spell check). I have started teaching English to two of the Russian lay preacher's children. They’re a bit high strung after a long day at school, but I enjoy it…even if I’m a little rusty from my Prague training. I have been making acquaintances at the church where I sing, mostly among those involved in youth work. It’s good to know some young singles around town. I have written more letters in the past month than I’ve written in a good, long time…a whopping total of 4!!! (Hey, they were long and ***gasp*** handwritten!!) I’ve been trying to respond personally per snail-mail to everything I’ve received thus far, though I’m starting to fall a bit behind. I have taken a bike tour with one of the congregation members. Here’s some pictures of the landscape surrounding Genthin (Genthin is known as the Pearl on the Canal :)).

And I did attend Genthin’s 14th Annual Kartoffelfest [potato festival] last weekend. Yes, life is hard in the mission field. Honey roasted peanuts and cotton candy with a side of carnival games. Here I am with one of our congregation members.

And I have had a few random experiences…one of which I’d like to share with you. I’ve inserted some fun German words for your learning pleasure!

About two weeks after I arrived, I had what I think was my second interaction with anyone who lives in my building. Even though there are 6 floors of apartments, it was quite sometime before I saw any of them (hehe…I was probably sleeping in too late). Anyway, I received a lecture from a woman with a thick Saxon accent about how I was parking my bike in the stroller cellar [Kinderwagenkellar] and not in the bicycle cellar [Fahrradkellar], which is apparently quite the offense. It wasn’t my fault; the key I’d been given only worked in the Kinderwagenkellar. How was I supposed to know? I also live in a guest apartment [Gäste-Wohnung], so I thought maybe only full-residents got to use the Fahrradkellar. I felt scolded for not having known better and promised to look into the situation. (It was resolved by my having no place to park my bike for two days, and then being told that I should just park it in the Kinderwagenkellar anyway.) I digress. A week or so later a storm came through Genthin that left behind some gorgeous clouds and one of the largest, thickest and brightest rainbows [Regenbogen] that I’ve ever seen. I grabbed my camera and ran outside (okay, down 6 flights of stairs and then outside) and started shooting away. The woman who had earlier scolded me was looking out her second floor window of the building next door and she started speaking to me. Because of the thick accent, I could barely understand what she said. I had to walk away and think for five minutes before I realized she’d said something to the effect of, “you’ll get good pictures with a digital. One doesn’t get bored looking out the window on nights like these.” Looking out the window is a favorite pastime of Genthiners…especially among older residents who live in the block apartments [Neubau] where I live. I found her comments somewhat endearing, and seeing as I’d had next to no contact with people outside of my congregation at that point, I decided to do something. I went to a photo shop in town and printed out what I thought were my best shots and put them in her mailbox. The next day, her granddaughter (a 10-year-old who lives in my building) knocked on my door saying, “My grandma [Oma] got the pictures and wants to know if you’d like to come have coffee with us.” I could have cried for joy. Someone was talking to me! And not because I’d parked my Fahrrad in the wrong place! So I went down and met a whole family of women, great-grandmother, Oma, mom, and two grandkids. They all live in the Neubau around here. Jessica, the 10-year-old, is absolutely sweet and very excited/curious about this Amerikanerin [I’ll let you figure that one out yourself] who’s now living on the sixth floor. She gave me a pen and a keychain that she’d made out of gimp and promised to start working on a cross keychain (this after she heard me say that I’m working for a church). She always greets me enthusiastically when I see her, and it’s great to come home to familiar faces. I see Oma a lot, though I still struggle to understand her, and am glad that the Kinderwagenkellarsituation (yes, one word in German!) is now taken care of [erledigt, my new favorite German word, btw.; there’s much that I wish would just hurry up and get erledigt around here :)].

Here’s some pictures of the Genthiner sky [Himmel] on that evening as well as others. Enjoy.
Until next time! [Bis zum nächsten Mal!]

Rainbow, Clouds and Sunset after the Storm

Sunrise a few days later

First Impressions

2007-10-20T10:45:00.000-04:00

3 September 2007

It’s funny. I don’t consider myself to be a computer/internet addict, but I think this may be the longest I’ve gone without having access to an “E-mail machine.” My words per minute have definitely decreased during this just-under-two-week period. You may think I’m being a bit dramatic, but along with no internet, I have no land-line telephone…just my Handy (cell phone), from which long distance calls cost a fortune. So I really have been out of reach. I even resorted to writing letters! Of course, there are very few mailing addresses that I have memorized or written down…I need the internet to access them. Alas!

I’m sure once my telecommunication is up and running I’ll realize how cut off I’ve really been, but honestly, it hasn’t been that bad on this end. It means that I’ve had time to set up my apartment, adjust to Genthin life, and meet new people from my congregation. That’s not to say that I have completed any of those tasks. Far from it. Though I am slowing collecting household items…I’m always finding something else that’s missing. I feel that I have done a fairly good job of improvising (to save money and escape having to haul whatever-it-is up to my sixth floor apartment—no elevator), but I haven’t quite figured out how to fasten a shower curtain and rod out of my supplies. I’ve been on the prowl in local stores, but so far, no luck. Meanwhile, I’ve rediscovered the pleasure of a good bath.

As far as independent living goes, it’s a mixed blessing I suppose. I have lots of freedom and space to myself, but no one to help me with the dishes. :( Cooking, which I’ve never really done for myself on a regular basis, has ended up not being the chore I was expecting it to be. There’s been a lot of improvising on that front, and the benefit of cooking for one is…no embarrassment if you mess up. But honestly, only one of the 8 or so dishes I’ve made so far has been really disappointing.

One of my first successes

Okay, enough of the boring stuff. Genthin. What can I say? It’s everything I imagined a small, former East German town to be like. Ironically, I never really imagined what it would be like to live in one as an outsider (something you think I would have thought of before departure). But sometimes that capacity of mine—not to think ahead—is what saves me. If I had worried ahead of time that I would stand out drastically, struggle with the local accents, make common foreigner faux pas(s?) in the supermarket (even after 6 months in Bremen!), and not have anyone near by (or even temporarily a phone call away) who really knows me, I would have either psyched myself out and stayed home, or started despairing when all of those things came true. That’s not to say I haven’t been frustrated or impatient with myself, but I’m definitely hanging in there. And compared to the sweeping cultural differences that some of my fellow mission interns are undoubtedly facing, I’m sure I don’t have much to complain about.

As far as language goes, I’m actually doing pretty well. My Dickinson education is paying off (or rather, I’m paying it off…). One thing that I was always super self-conscious about during study abroad was my speech. Do I sound like a native? Did I get that stress, that pronunciation right? Oh, I definitely have a better grip on this than that other foreigner. Horrible, but I was very, very vain. I noticed after my first week here, that that mentality has somewhat slipped (though not entirely). I’ve really gotten away from strategically planning every word before I run some errand or have some meeting. In fact, even when I’m alone I find myself thinking in German (sometimes Russian). I’ll even deliberately make an effort to think to myself in English and find myself inserting foreign words. (This has done nothing but give Ms. Language Major a swelled head, as you can probably already tell.) But my professors would still be shaking their heads at me. Because I’m working with Russian immigrants (technically Aussiedler or Spätaussiedler) who speak German, regardless of what language we speak in, I can always resort to the other one when I don’t know a word or expression. This, of course, hinders proper language learning (hence the shaking heads), but for once I’m just happy that I don’t have to resort to English (swelled head). Alas, a new vanity has emerged!

Though my exact job description is still taking shape, my assignment for the first month is to simply get to know the congregation members. The Evangelisch-methodistische Kirche Genthin is a small church; attendance between the two weekly services ranges between 50 and 70 persons. There is a Russian service with translation into German on Saturday nights, and a German service (w/o translation) on Sundays that alternates between 9:30 am and 2:30 pm. The Saturday night service is contemporary and attended mostly by the younger generations of Aussiedler. Those in my age group (roughly 18-30) are involved in leading the service, and their children and parents attend as well. The grandparent generation of Aussiedler (though often understanding the least German) attends the German services, which are led in a traditional style. There are also a fair number of German community members that attend (or at least frequent) each service, most notably the church mother, Frau Schlüter, and her husband Paul. They were the first people I met upon arrival in Genthin, and they have really done everything possible to make me feel at home and welcome—from coffee and plumb cake to scrounging up all sorts of household items (including, most importantly, a washing machine so that I don’t have to drag my dirty clothes down six floors out in the cold to do my laundry somewhere else). Frau Schlüter is the daughter of the first pastor of Genthin EmK, which was founded at the end of WWII. She has grown up among generations of EmK members and was (and still is) ecstatic that I, too, come from a long line of Methodists.

The vast majority of the congregation, however, are Aussiedler, which means my Russian comes in handy as much as my German does. There is a great sense of family among the Aussiedler, especially because—at least as far as this congregation is concerned—almost all of them are related. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but there are five sisters whose children are all about my age. Add their spouses and friends to the mix, and you’ve got a worship team. Actually, the word spouses just about encompasses everyone, because everyone within five years of my age is married. The two girls I’ve been spending most of my time with are a bit younger than me and both pregnant (even with the same December due date!). With the exception of one Natasha, who’s not quite 16, everyone in the “youth group” (really, a young adult group) is married or engaged…many with children. Despite the fact that we are in different life phases, we get along well and I pray that that will continue over the next 15+ months.

I really enjoy working with Pastor Stolze, who splits his time between the church in Genthin and another equally small one in Magdeburg, a near-by, good-sized city. Last Wednesday I took the train to Magdeburg for our first “official” meeting. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed (sub-)urban life. Wide streets, tall buildings, lots of people (and even some of color), streetcars (ha)…it all made me feel quite at home. I’m most definitely looking forward to spending more time there, as well as in Brandenburg and—of course—Berlin. ! :) ! :) ! Though I’m staying put for much of the first month, apparently I’m expected to do a decent amount of travel over the next year and a third. (aw, shucks ;)) Between EmK events, visiting other Aussiedler churches, and potentially speaking at or being involved in the English-speaking congregations in Germany, I’ve got some Bahn miles ahead of me.

As I’ve mentioned, I have—at least momentarily—plenty of time to myself and am enjoying some old pastimes such as reading, journaling, and singing as if no one could hear me (though they probably can… :/ ). I’m slowly working myself into a routine, trying to get up early though my duties don’t demand it. I have a bike, but have been doing a lot of walking to take in more of my surroundings. Already I’m meeting acquaintances unexpectedly “in town” and it’s good to see a familiar face—even when I can’t remember all the names. :(

I don’t have any extremely exciting pictures just yet, just a few of the apartment and the “Gegend” (surrounding areas). These pictures are most definitely Genthin at its best. Enjoy!

My apartment

View of Lorenzstrasse from my bedroom window

Around town

Sunset on the Canal

Genthin's "famous" watertower

On Your Marks...

2007-07-19T16:08:00.000-04:00

Greetings family, friends, instructors and fellow bloggers! Though I've been quiet on the blogging front for just over a year, I'm getting ready to begin my next round of travels and thought I might pick it up again, especially as most of you will soon be an ocean away (though some of you will be an ocean closer! :)). I thank all of my faithful readers who were such a strong support for me last time around. (If you're interested in skimming or rereading, the old links are posted to the left.)

If you haven't already heard, I'm about to begin a three-year position with the United Methodist Church, serving as a mission intern. My first of two 16-month assignments is in Genthin, Germany--a small town in the state of Saxony-Anhalt (former East Germany). For those of you know where Genthin is--congratulations! You're one in a million. For the rest of you, it's a little over an hour southwest of Berlin. The nearest major city is Magdeburg, approximately 50 km (30 mi) to the southwest. I'll be working in a small, Methodist church(Evangelisch-methodistisch auf Deutsch) that serves its Russian and German members each in their native language. And you wondered what I'd do with my liberal arts degree in Russian and German! ;)

My exact duties are a bit nebulous at the moment, as they will be until I get there. The pastor did mention something about working with youth and young adults, but your guess is as good as mine as to what exactly that will entail. Initially I'll be spending a lot of time in "ministry of being": (re)adjusting to the languages and cultures, meeting congregation and community members, and generally observing life in small-town Germany. After a stressful year of tight schedules, I'm looking forward to having a little bit of breathing room upon arrival, though I'm sure I'll busy myself before long.

As of Sunday, July 15, I am officially a commissioned young adult missionary of the United Methodist Church. The commissioning took place after three weeks of intense training at the UMC's General Board of Global Ministries in New York City. There are 8 of us serving as mission interns and 9 as US-2s. US-2s spend two years serving domestically and mission interns serve a three-year term split between an overseas placement and a domestic site. We're all attempting to begin work some time in August, though that's not possible for all of us thanks to visa complications. We're being sent to 17 different placements, though some of the domestic assignments are in the same city. The closest mission intern to me will be in Jerusalem, so it's safe to say that I'm really traveling by myself this time. To my knowledge there will not be any other Americans or native English-speakers in Genthin, and this opportunity is nothing but exhilarating for me. It also appears that I'll be living on my own. How exciting that my first apartment will be overseas!

I have just over a month until my departure, but it's filling up quickly with camp, vacation, and visiting. Barring any family emergencies, I don't intend to be coming home between departure and December of 08, but I'm certainly not opposed to having a few visitors! Especially if you're going to be in northern or eastern Germany, I'd love to meet up! So start planning vacations now. :)

The name for this blog comes from a song we sang during our training (see quote below). Though we learned it as an introit to our testimonies, we started using it for praise and worship...and also to abate frustrations amidst heated discussion. Its simple persistence proved at different times soothing and empowering. Yet more importantly, it focuses on the while...on the present. Thoreau's line serves as an enlightening compliment, especially when it comes to explaining the concept of missions to the modern world. The real Good News is that God's work can be done on earth, as it is done in heaven. And I am so grateful for all of you who are guiding my feet along heavenly ground.