For future reference: I need to travel more. I need to set my foot on the grounds of Korea, Japan, Singapore and India. Well, most likely also China and Hong Kong, and speaking of mainland, maybe also Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia.
So yes, that’s the plan. Now we need a business plan to accompany that.
I have not been able to blog for the past few days, because:
The training for editors has started (and ended by now), and though I didn’t lead all the lectures, it would be rather rude to procrastinate like that during Mark’s and Terry’s lectures.
Internet was down (which probably made point A. easier, because I really did not have an option).
With every session it seemed the connections and friendships with participants got tightened, and my cooperation with Mark and Terry got easier and more relaxed.
It’s probably to be expected that every “teacher” will have his or her favorites in the class. One cannot help it, and though I have to say that I really liked every single person here, I did enjoy especially this one couple from Korea and John from India. I also spend a lot of time talking to Gary, who is a missionary in Japan, and he taught me a lot about Asian languages. It was fascinating to learn so much about the various alphabets. I am such a nerd, I could spent HOURS just asking him more and more questions about things of completely no use for me.
Anyway, so the Korean couple were absolute DARLINGS! Neither could speak English very well, but we struggled through it and I just loved getting to know them. They run a magazine for youth and young adults, their circulation is 20 grand (no joke), and they can sing! (we had a talent show at graduation ;)). The wife, Youngsoo, had a broad knowledge of history and geography, including European, which has to be praised. Most of the people here learn only the history of their country, and their continent at best. Now, before you judge them for that, please tell me, do you know which countries Japan attacked and ruled over in WW2? Yeah, if you don’t know that from the top of your head, you probably shouldn’t get judgmental. :)
John is just an adorable young man (I say "young man" though likely he's about ten years older than me, but being a “professor” of sorts I somehow felt ‘older’ than everyone else). My first encounter with him left me confused and speechless, because I don’t think I understood a single word of the first sentence he said to me. Thankfully, focusing enough I could work out my way through his thick accent and interesting way of talking. At times I would find myself listening to him converse, with no particular interest in the substance of his words, just taking in the extraordinary sounds and exceptional melody of his speech. John has been married for less than two years, he works with a student’s magazine called Campus Link, and this training in the Philippines was his first trip abroad! Oh my, I wanted to hug him. Is it weird that I felt like hugging him for the simple fact that this is the first time he traveled? God is so good for enabling this beautiful man to experience a piece of the world that was not familiar to him. I was told that John would get up early in the mornings, before all the sessions, to take walks along the bay, even if it rained, to take in all the sounds, views and scents of this new world. Man, I get teary even just thinking about it.
Time flies, our training has already ended. Graduation was a lot of fun, participants wanted to thank us, and we had an opportunity to bless them and pray for them. I cannot help but think how over 9 years ago I took part in such a training myself, and despite the fact that I still seem to be the youngest one here, haha, I praise God for this opportunity to GIVE rather than take. Remembering how much has changed in my life, and how our magazine has improved over the past 9 years, I am eager to see what great things God does in their lives and where He’s going to take their work in the future.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Day 4. Tuesday.
MA’AM-mania. Do you know what ma’am-mania is? I didn't either, until I came here. Ma’am is the most popular word in Philippines, it seems. “Hi ma’am”, “Thank you, ma’am”, “Taxi ma’am?”, “Goodafternoon ma’am”, “Yes, ma’am.” I heard it 15 times just going through the hotel door. Of course the volleyball players had to notice it too, so one by one they repeat after the hotel staff: “Hi ma’am.” Combine it with a Filipino accent, and you get a delightful sound with lots of long “aahs” (HAAAI, MAA’AAM).
The weather has greatly improved on Tuesday, it’s been sunny and very hot (and humid, yes, that does not change), which proved to be both pleasant and unpleasant at times. This was the last free morning I have this week, so I decided to take advantage and do some sightseeing on my own. I know some of you would freak out hearing that I want to wander off somewhere on my own, that’s why I’m letting you know post factum. J I love moving around on my own, it gives you the freedom to change your mind hundred times in 10 minutes, get lost, walk for an hour with no particular destination, stop for shopping at stinky places…
I visited Intramuros, which is Manila’s old town, remainings of the Spanish inquisition. Philippines have been under Spanish rule for centuries. Only recent history represents American domination (and awful Japanese invasion and cruelty during WW2). For further reading, please look up history of this nation online. So, Intramuros is a delightful part of town that makes you feel like in Mexico. The buildings reminded me of the historical sites I have seen, for example, in Zorro movies or Assassins (sorry about the connotation, but it one of the most beautiful films I have seen set in Mexico). However… I am not in Mexico. It’s strange to see all the similarities though, and you just have to blame the Spanish. ;) I spoil myself by getting a horse carriage (it cost me only 6 dollars) and get a primitive historical tour of the place. Being as curious as I am, I ask my so called guide many questions he doesn’t have answers for. Eventually I get off and visit one of the Catholic churches. Again, doesn’t feel Asian at all. I walk in and there’s Pieta on my left. A few steps further there’s a sculpture of St. Peter, EXACTLY the same as the one people kiss in St.Peter’s Cathedral in the Vatican (which I saw and NOT kissed mere 3-4 months ago). There’s not much more for me to admire in there. I move on to a historical museum called Casa Manila.
I loved the museum. Of course, very Spanish, again, and made me think of all the white invaders in third world countries. It’s like seeing a Victorian house in Kenya, the English Royal halls in Egypt, aristocratic European homes in India, and yes, a Spanish villa in the Philippines that encompasses French, Italian and English influences in style. It’s not something I despise though, because it adds to the diversity and beauty of this place. But it makes me wonder, what would be the real story of this place? What were the core values? What culture hides under all this? Or behind it? Casa Manila leads you through numerous rooms of one huge, aristocratic home. Living rooms, bedrooms, play rooms, kitchen, bathroom… My favorite? A double restroom: it included two toilets (old style- wooden chairs with a huge hole in the middle), side to side in a tiny little room. Reason for this double trouble? It’s the special place for secret talks and romantic alone time. Oh my, isn’t that everyone’s dream- to have that intimate moment of romance with your loved one IN THE TOILET? Priceless. In the kitchen I am greeted by a delightful young fellow who assists visitors. As he talks about kitchenware, he interchanges information with questions a little bit like this: “This was used for cooking… where are you from? And this is an iron… how old are you? The silverware is right here… are you married? This is a coffee grinder… how long will you stay?” In the end of our interesting monologue-trying-to-be-a-dialogue, he offers to take a picture of me in the garden. I looked at it later, and you could tell I looked pretty amused.
In the souvenir store by the museum I am yet again struck by the people’s kindness and friendliness. I’m the kind of person that has to examine everything, and if possible, touch every item. So as I look around I find numerous things that fascinate me. There are paper-made wallets, banana material purses, mother pearl kitchenware… This is something that bothers me. I do get the idea that “mother pearl” means it’s made of a shells that create pearls, however I twitch at the thought of buying something that is made out of a MOTHER of something. This is not a good marketing name. Another thing I see is endless racks of jewelry, bracelets, necklaces, anklets and so on. So as I browse, the clerk speaks up: “Everything 20% off for you, ma’am.” I love that I haven’t even bargained with him, and I already have a discount. I was going to do my shopping here anyway – nowhere in the world have I seen souvenirs at museums for less than a dollar. At markets yes, on the street yes, but in a museum store? I’m ready to pull out my “savings”. I am incapable of buying things in large quantities, sadly, this must be my “missionary syndrome”, where I consider an excess of everything a waste. I do however pick out things I like and am ready to buy. As I look at necklaces, the kind man makes another offer: “Take one for free, ma’am.” I didn’t even have to ask! (not that I would have). So I walk out with my shopping worth at least 20 dollars, which would cost me about 50 anywhere in the West, and I spent less than ten bucks. On top of it all, I do not have to feel bad about ripping him off, since I never even asked for any privilege! My issue with bargaining? Not to say it’s true, because most often it’s not, but I just get awfully guilty fighting for 50 cents I do not need with someone who may feed his child with it. I do not feel guilty arguing with taxi drivers though. :)
Alright, moving on. We kicked off our training/conference finally. We have participants from South Korea, Philippines, India, Japan, Australia and the US. There were supposed to be representatives from Kenya and Moldova as well, but sadly they didn’t get their visas or something. I’m disappointed, because I was excited to hear about what they do, at the same time, considering one is from Africa and the other from Europe, their absence makes our lectures easier, because our listeners are mainly from this part of the world (Americans and Australians are easily adjustable in this case ;)). Each one of them either works for some publication or is planning on starting one. As we get to talk over dinner, I am completely captivated by almost every person here. I get to talk to the adorable Korean couple about their magazine, church and Korean missionaries around the world. John from India tells me about the situation of Christians in his country and the resources he has. I am absolutely fascinated with what I have already learned about Japan. Every single person is a different story, every person brings in a different culture and presents a different world. I am absolutely LOVING this! I think of new questions for my conversers every 5 minutes and need to be careful to not get overbearing. At the same time, I feel so privileged to be their teacher, and I thank God for raising me above my age level. None of them regard me as a girl that’s simply younger than them. They all seem to consider me as a professional they can look up to. It’s humbling and motivating. I want to share everything I know, teach them everything I’ve learned, and show them everything I’ve discovered about the wonderful field of publishing.
God is so good to us. Our faith and commitment to the greatest commission is something that unites us, and something we could talk about for hours and not get bored. It’s something that takes down all the walls between us and brings us together under one shelter – the glory of God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. As we work on improving our professional skills in the field we work in, we all get more excited for the things we do, but even more so, for the things God will do. We can just hope and pray God will use us and the work of our hands for His benefit. So be it AMEN.
The weather has greatly improved on Tuesday, it’s been sunny and very hot (and humid, yes, that does not change), which proved to be both pleasant and unpleasant at times. This was the last free morning I have this week, so I decided to take advantage and do some sightseeing on my own. I know some of you would freak out hearing that I want to wander off somewhere on my own, that’s why I’m letting you know post factum. J I love moving around on my own, it gives you the freedom to change your mind hundred times in 10 minutes, get lost, walk for an hour with no particular destination, stop for shopping at stinky places…
I visited Intramuros, which is Manila’s old town, remainings of the Spanish inquisition. Philippines have been under Spanish rule for centuries. Only recent history represents American domination (and awful Japanese invasion and cruelty during WW2). For further reading, please look up history of this nation online. So, Intramuros is a delightful part of town that makes you feel like in Mexico. The buildings reminded me of the historical sites I have seen, for example, in Zorro movies or Assassins (sorry about the connotation, but it one of the most beautiful films I have seen set in Mexico). However… I am not in Mexico. It’s strange to see all the similarities though, and you just have to blame the Spanish. ;) I spoil myself by getting a horse carriage (it cost me only 6 dollars) and get a primitive historical tour of the place. Being as curious as I am, I ask my so called guide many questions he doesn’t have answers for. Eventually I get off and visit one of the Catholic churches. Again, doesn’t feel Asian at all. I walk in and there’s Pieta on my left. A few steps further there’s a sculpture of St. Peter, EXACTLY the same as the one people kiss in St.Peter’s Cathedral in the Vatican (which I saw and NOT kissed mere 3-4 months ago). There’s not much more for me to admire in there. I move on to a historical museum called Casa Manila.
I loved the museum. Of course, very Spanish, again, and made me think of all the white invaders in third world countries. It’s like seeing a Victorian house in Kenya, the English Royal halls in Egypt, aristocratic European homes in India, and yes, a Spanish villa in the Philippines that encompasses French, Italian and English influences in style. It’s not something I despise though, because it adds to the diversity and beauty of this place. But it makes me wonder, what would be the real story of this place? What were the core values? What culture hides under all this? Or behind it? Casa Manila leads you through numerous rooms of one huge, aristocratic home. Living rooms, bedrooms, play rooms, kitchen, bathroom… My favorite? A double restroom: it included two toilets (old style- wooden chairs with a huge hole in the middle), side to side in a tiny little room. Reason for this double trouble? It’s the special place for secret talks and romantic alone time. Oh my, isn’t that everyone’s dream- to have that intimate moment of romance with your loved one IN THE TOILET? Priceless. In the kitchen I am greeted by a delightful young fellow who assists visitors. As he talks about kitchenware, he interchanges information with questions a little bit like this: “This was used for cooking… where are you from? And this is an iron… how old are you? The silverware is right here… are you married? This is a coffee grinder… how long will you stay?” In the end of our interesting monologue-trying-to-be-a-dialogue, he offers to take a picture of me in the garden. I looked at it later, and you could tell I looked pretty amused.
In the souvenir store by the museum I am yet again struck by the people’s kindness and friendliness. I’m the kind of person that has to examine everything, and if possible, touch every item. So as I look around I find numerous things that fascinate me. There are paper-made wallets, banana material purses, mother pearl kitchenware… This is something that bothers me. I do get the idea that “mother pearl” means it’s made of a shells that create pearls, however I twitch at the thought of buying something that is made out of a MOTHER of something. This is not a good marketing name. Another thing I see is endless racks of jewelry, bracelets, necklaces, anklets and so on. So as I browse, the clerk speaks up: “Everything 20% off for you, ma’am.” I love that I haven’t even bargained with him, and I already have a discount. I was going to do my shopping here anyway – nowhere in the world have I seen souvenirs at museums for less than a dollar. At markets yes, on the street yes, but in a museum store? I’m ready to pull out my “savings”. I am incapable of buying things in large quantities, sadly, this must be my “missionary syndrome”, where I consider an excess of everything a waste. I do however pick out things I like and am ready to buy. As I look at necklaces, the kind man makes another offer: “Take one for free, ma’am.” I didn’t even have to ask! (not that I would have). So I walk out with my shopping worth at least 20 dollars, which would cost me about 50 anywhere in the West, and I spent less than ten bucks. On top of it all, I do not have to feel bad about ripping him off, since I never even asked for any privilege! My issue with bargaining? Not to say it’s true, because most often it’s not, but I just get awfully guilty fighting for 50 cents I do not need with someone who may feed his child with it. I do not feel guilty arguing with taxi drivers though. :)
Alright, moving on. We kicked off our training/conference finally. We have participants from South Korea, Philippines, India, Japan, Australia and the US. There were supposed to be representatives from Kenya and Moldova as well, but sadly they didn’t get their visas or something. I’m disappointed, because I was excited to hear about what they do, at the same time, considering one is from Africa and the other from Europe, their absence makes our lectures easier, because our listeners are mainly from this part of the world (Americans and Australians are easily adjustable in this case ;)). Each one of them either works for some publication or is planning on starting one. As we get to talk over dinner, I am completely captivated by almost every person here. I get to talk to the adorable Korean couple about their magazine, church and Korean missionaries around the world. John from India tells me about the situation of Christians in his country and the resources he has. I am absolutely fascinated with what I have already learned about Japan. Every single person is a different story, every person brings in a different culture and presents a different world. I am absolutely LOVING this! I think of new questions for my conversers every 5 minutes and need to be careful to not get overbearing. At the same time, I feel so privileged to be their teacher, and I thank God for raising me above my age level. None of them regard me as a girl that’s simply younger than them. They all seem to consider me as a professional they can look up to. It’s humbling and motivating. I want to share everything I know, teach them everything I’ve learned, and show them everything I’ve discovered about the wonderful field of publishing.
God is so good to us. Our faith and commitment to the greatest commission is something that unites us, and something we could talk about for hours and not get bored. It’s something that takes down all the walls between us and brings us together under one shelter – the glory of God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. As we work on improving our professional skills in the field we work in, we all get more excited for the things we do, but even more so, for the things God will do. We can just hope and pray God will use us and the work of our hands for His benefit. So be it AMEN.
Day 3. Monday.
Monday was Yom Kippur. I can’t say I kept it (=fast), but I did remember about it. I wouldn’t be able to pull through with the fasting considering I’m jetlag and still a bit sick. Most of the food I ate today was chicken soup though, so I didn’t each much anyway. As if that made any difference. But still. I managed to not eat pork and seafood, which truly is a success.
Food is often the topic of discussion here. Seafood is a big deal, the cuisine here is a mix of all things, but naturally, with special focus on what is available – and all sea and ocean “products” are. But also tropical foods, considering the islands are covered with tropical forests. This would include mangos, papayas and numerous fruit I have not heard of before, have already tried and loved, and cannot remember what they were called. I’m happy to try new things, for as long as they don’t include crazy meats (and you gotta admit, pigs are crazy and so are the shrimp!). But not only that. There are two things I have been warned not to try, and knowing what I know now, I’m sure I won’t even be tempted to. Although one thing I’m extremely curious about is a fruit that apparently smells like poop and tastes like candy. K Something tells me some of you would be interested in trying it… Well, I’m not gonna, although it did cross my mind to buy a jar of this jelly for Estella (cheers, mate! haha). Now the other crazy thing is the crazy of craziness and is the first thing that managed to take away my appetite (few things can, even if gross). The name escapes me, of course, but what it is, is a fermented duck egg with a partly developed fetus (is it called a fetus in case of eggs? You get what I mean though). Firstly, why would anyone EVER want to eat an egg that already somewhat looks like a duck?! Secondly, if you absolutely have to eat one, why fermented??? Geez. I will stick to my fully developed chicken, well done, thank you very much.
Ok, enough about food. Now drinks. ;) I plan to take advantage of Starbucks as much as possible, without getting myself broke at the same time. Today I spend a few hours there, drinking my latte and preparing for a lecture. And it dawned on me why I love it. I was sitting there in a huge armchair, on soft pillows, nice coffee table before me, in an air-conditioned room which smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Listening to jazz music and looking out the window at the fascinating world I’m in, reading my Bible in freedom and comfort – why would I NOT love any of this? I feel like collecting Starbucks cups. I have three lined down in my room. Oh, did I mention my room? Due to some confusion in the hotel, I was put in a deluxe suite as a word of apology. Favor from Heaven, baby. I am the daughter of the King. All praise and thanks go to my Abba who loves me.
The favor suite is on 11th floor, I don’t have much of a view, but I am one floor above the volleyball convention thing. I meet the giants in the elevator usually. Would I ever guess I would feel tiny in east Asia? I smirk at the thought that such unusual encounters always happen to me. Of all places, the one hotel in Asia I’m in currently hosts some of the tallest people in the world. It’s enough that three of them join me in the elevator and I feel like a midget. Interesting feeling. My bubble pops when Jolene and I go shopping.
You probably would like to hear a bit more about the actual reason I’m here, huh? Sorry I didn’t make it quite clear yet. We are having training for writers and editors, and I happen to be one of the three teachers. Most participants are from different Asian countries, not just Philippines, and some of them are American or Australian missionaries to said countries. Let me at least introduce to you the people I work here with. Sharon is the director of the whole spiel and she’s the boss of all things. Very well organized and very (lovingly) motherly to me. Jolene is her assistant and right hand, a young mother that misses her two little girls at home in Colorado. Michele, a volunteer from Kuala Lampur (Malaysia) is helping with all things organizational. I find her to be my true partner in all things charismatic and… in movies. J More later. Mark and Terry are the other lecturers (along with me), who are delightful white American males over 50. Haha, I had to put that in, because it’s such a funny stereotype of the typical most privileged person. I was scared of working with them, after all I’m a 1. Polish, 2. woman, 3. aged 26. However once again I was comforted as soon as we met that what makes us all one and equal is the saving blood of Jesus that makes us all children of the King.
Speaking of children of the King, Michele can pray. And by pray, I mean PRAY, not just pray. That was a great blessing to start off with. At the same time, she’s very well rounded in the media and we have lots to talk about (from tacky Transformers movies, to Star Wars, to Batman old and new, to Hotel Rwanda, AND even Bollywood…). On a daily basis she’s a documentary film maker in Malaysia. Michele backed me up as we talked about possible worship music before all our sessions. I said the more the better, but Mark and Terry admitted they didn’t care either way. When asked for song preference, they asked for hymns while I suggested Hillsong, Matt Redman and Chris Tomlin. :/ (which got commented with: “what is wrong with this generation…” it actually made me laugh and made me proud ;))).
All is good in the hood though, we click well despite our differences. I really like both Terry and Mark a lot, and I’m grateful for how much respect they show me. They laugh at their own conservative ways, and I let all their jokes (about me) slide. We stay even. ;)
Tomorrow (Tuesday) we kick off with the participants. Which means I will have lots of other stuff to talk about on the following days. :)
BY THE WAY. You know you can comment here, right? I know you all prefer email cause it's more personal and private, but if you just have a word or two, or a question, drop it here, yeah? Love love love. Miss you all terribly, some more than others. You do the lottery and tell me of the outcome. :P
Food is often the topic of discussion here. Seafood is a big deal, the cuisine here is a mix of all things, but naturally, with special focus on what is available – and all sea and ocean “products” are. But also tropical foods, considering the islands are covered with tropical forests. This would include mangos, papayas and numerous fruit I have not heard of before, have already tried and loved, and cannot remember what they were called. I’m happy to try new things, for as long as they don’t include crazy meats (and you gotta admit, pigs are crazy and so are the shrimp!). But not only that. There are two things I have been warned not to try, and knowing what I know now, I’m sure I won’t even be tempted to. Although one thing I’m extremely curious about is a fruit that apparently smells like poop and tastes like candy. K Something tells me some of you would be interested in trying it… Well, I’m not gonna, although it did cross my mind to buy a jar of this jelly for Estella (cheers, mate! haha). Now the other crazy thing is the crazy of craziness and is the first thing that managed to take away my appetite (few things can, even if gross). The name escapes me, of course, but what it is, is a fermented duck egg with a partly developed fetus (is it called a fetus in case of eggs? You get what I mean though). Firstly, why would anyone EVER want to eat an egg that already somewhat looks like a duck?! Secondly, if you absolutely have to eat one, why fermented??? Geez. I will stick to my fully developed chicken, well done, thank you very much.
Ok, enough about food. Now drinks. ;) I plan to take advantage of Starbucks as much as possible, without getting myself broke at the same time. Today I spend a few hours there, drinking my latte and preparing for a lecture. And it dawned on me why I love it. I was sitting there in a huge armchair, on soft pillows, nice coffee table before me, in an air-conditioned room which smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Listening to jazz music and looking out the window at the fascinating world I’m in, reading my Bible in freedom and comfort – why would I NOT love any of this? I feel like collecting Starbucks cups. I have three lined down in my room. Oh, did I mention my room? Due to some confusion in the hotel, I was put in a deluxe suite as a word of apology. Favor from Heaven, baby. I am the daughter of the King. All praise and thanks go to my Abba who loves me.
The favor suite is on 11th floor, I don’t have much of a view, but I am one floor above the volleyball convention thing. I meet the giants in the elevator usually. Would I ever guess I would feel tiny in east Asia? I smirk at the thought that such unusual encounters always happen to me. Of all places, the one hotel in Asia I’m in currently hosts some of the tallest people in the world. It’s enough that three of them join me in the elevator and I feel like a midget. Interesting feeling. My bubble pops when Jolene and I go shopping.
You probably would like to hear a bit more about the actual reason I’m here, huh? Sorry I didn’t make it quite clear yet. We are having training for writers and editors, and I happen to be one of the three teachers. Most participants are from different Asian countries, not just Philippines, and some of them are American or Australian missionaries to said countries. Let me at least introduce to you the people I work here with. Sharon is the director of the whole spiel and she’s the boss of all things. Very well organized and very (lovingly) motherly to me. Jolene is her assistant and right hand, a young mother that misses her two little girls at home in Colorado. Michele, a volunteer from Kuala Lampur (Malaysia) is helping with all things organizational. I find her to be my true partner in all things charismatic and… in movies. J More later. Mark and Terry are the other lecturers (along with me), who are delightful white American males over 50. Haha, I had to put that in, because it’s such a funny stereotype of the typical most privileged person. I was scared of working with them, after all I’m a 1. Polish, 2. woman, 3. aged 26. However once again I was comforted as soon as we met that what makes us all one and equal is the saving blood of Jesus that makes us all children of the King.
Speaking of children of the King, Michele can pray. And by pray, I mean PRAY, not just pray. That was a great blessing to start off with. At the same time, she’s very well rounded in the media and we have lots to talk about (from tacky Transformers movies, to Star Wars, to Batman old and new, to Hotel Rwanda, AND even Bollywood…). On a daily basis she’s a documentary film maker in Malaysia. Michele backed me up as we talked about possible worship music before all our sessions. I said the more the better, but Mark and Terry admitted they didn’t care either way. When asked for song preference, they asked for hymns while I suggested Hillsong, Matt Redman and Chris Tomlin. :/ (which got commented with: “what is wrong with this generation…” it actually made me laugh and made me proud ;))).
All is good in the hood though, we click well despite our differences. I really like both Terry and Mark a lot, and I’m grateful for how much respect they show me. They laugh at their own conservative ways, and I let all their jokes (about me) slide. We stay even. ;)
Tomorrow (Tuesday) we kick off with the participants. Which means I will have lots of other stuff to talk about on the following days. :)
BY THE WAY. You know you can comment here, right? I know you all prefer email cause it's more personal and private, but if you just have a word or two, or a question, drop it here, yeah? Love love love. Miss you all terribly, some more than others. You do the lottery and tell me of the outcome. :P
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Going East. Day 1-2. Saturday-Sunday
Hello my darlings. I want to be updating this blog while I’m actually here*, because I know once I come back I’ll have all the impressions cumulated in my head and unsorted, which means I’d just babble and it won’t make any sense.
Where is here*?
*Here is Manila, Philippines. As my mom took me to the airport early Saturday afternoon, I realized I’m going somewhere I have never been before and have very little knowledge of. I’ve been places in my life, and generally I have some idea about different parts of the world, especially countries I’m planning to visit. Philippines however, I knew nothing of. Except for having met several delightful Filipinos in the States and in the UK and by that having noticed some of their unique habits or ways of life, I know close to nothing about the culture itself. So that thought alone – the idea of exploring the unknown – got me really excited.
Firstly I would like to tell you that catching a cold before such a trip is not a good idea. And I don’t mean just the mere inconvenience of sneezing, getting partly deaf on the plane because your sinuses are not doing their job, and having to blow your nose in public (also causing the skin on your nose get irritatingly dry). No, that wasn’t a big issue at all, actually, it wasn’t the first time I travelled in bad physical shape (some of you may remember my petrifying condition coming back from Egypt). The unfortunate circumstances regard the fact that Asia seems to be obsessed with swine flu threats. People wearing face masks, all passengers filling out health declarations on the plane… Like a criminal I feared that sneezing in public would keep me at the airport for endless medical tests, preventing me from traveling on. I look at the questions in red on the declaration – “check which symptoms you’ve had in the past 7 days: high temperature, runny nose, coughing, breathing difficulty, etc.” HA. If I check even a single box, will I become a threat or suspect for the rest of the year? Will it pop up on the screen of every computer each time my passport gets swiped? Nice. So I analyze each one: I don’t really have a runny nose, I haven’t used a tissue on this flight yet. Coughing? I can keep myself from it, so I guess I don’t need to check that. No temperature, I breathe easily (with open mouth). I guess I’m ok. Granted, I almost completely lost my voice (again!), which would totally blow my disguise, but maybe if they don’t ask me anything, I won’t have to try and say anything. Yesss, I made it through Hong Kong and am in Manila. By the time I have to fly back, I’ll be fine. I think.
Ok, so the few hours I had in Hong Kong were awfully pleasant (like the word combo?). As I walked around the airport, I caught up with latest gossip (just merely noticing the mag covers), drank Starbucks (I don’t love it, but this proves that one always wants which one does not have), and eventually stopped by the windows. The weather was pathetic, I didn’t get much of a view of anything, but at the same time I still got captivated. The Hong Kong airport is located on an island, and surrounded (at least from one side) with mountains. I could see their shapes, and some skyscrapers on far left. It matched beautifully. I feel like I want to come back there now. As I wandered along the windows, I got to gate 24, where – oh joy – was a free wi-fi stand. I pull out my machine and get online. That’s when I get the news – typhoons in the Philippines, over 50 died in Manila alone. I wonder how many Manilas there are in the world, maybe there’s a chance I’m going to a different one…
After 2-hour delay, our plane finally takes off. I’m not sure if to be happy about it or not, but then I remember John Paul Jackson’s words: “Planes I fly don’t crash. I haven’t completed my God given missions yet. He keeps me alive.” I snooze off within minutes. As we land in Manila, I can feel the humidity already in the air-conditioned (!) halls of the airport. After some hassles (of course) I finally leave the airport building and the thick air hits me. It’s as “stuffy” as the air in spas or indoor swimming pools. In some strange way I enjoy it. I can already feel its miraculous effects on my skin, haha. But honestly, I start enjoying it, remembering how I love heat and just being hot. I sure do have a soft spot for high temperatures. My only concern is my uncontrollable hair, but I guess the synergy of the air with the hair will show its consequences only in time… For now it’s just thicker. Not commercial-style though.
I cannot help but think that Philippines could pull off faking Egypt or Mexico, even Spain, but my idea of “Asia”? No. I know I shouldn’t stereotype, but we all have our impressions and expectations, it’s human nature to “box” things in your head (psychologically proven). I feel like a member of the royal family, sitting in the back of a car with dark windows and white seats. As we stop at traffic lights little children surround our car, trying to sell me flowers or feathers (?). They glue their noses to the windows and try to peek inside. I can tell they can hardly see anything, but they notice there is one person inside, and it’s a woman. One little girl exclaims: “Your eyes are so attractive!!!” I laugh and remember hearing same kind of compliments in Egypt, I pull up my hand not sure what it is that I want to do, so I just touch the window and know all too well that I cannot open neither the door nor the window. Again, I feel like a member of the royal family – truly blessed, yes, but also somewhat trapped and helpless…
In the hotel lobby my prophetic spirit takes over when a handsome man says hello and smiles at me. I immediately know he’s Iranian. He doesn’t look Arab at all, so I don’t know where I got it from, other than I knew it in the spirit. Later, when I meet with my two American friends, we are told the hotel is full of volleyball players from around the world, because of some tournaments. The said guy enters the café we sit in, girls wonder if he’s French or Italian, so Sharon asks him. Guy says he’s from Iran. I twitch at his response. How did I know that?
After a short while in the lobby, I get tired. In a weird way I feel alienated and wonder what I’m doing here. I’m starting to count how many days I have left, so I can get this job done and exhale. I get the message my body and my mind is sending me: get some sleep. I peacefully comply, it’s late anyway. Going over my notes and preparing my intro speech make no sense tonight. I’m exhausted and it’s starting to affect my emotions. I better fly away before I lose all my self-confidence. I keep singing lyrics that have followed me all day today: Oh God, Father of Heaven and Earth, I call to like deep calls to deep over water. Just as a deer goes to water, so does my soul to you Father. Oh God, though I have wandered so far, you know that I’m still a (wo)man after your own heart.
I fall asleep trying to recall the lyrics to the second verse…
Where is here*?
*Here is Manila, Philippines. As my mom took me to the airport early Saturday afternoon, I realized I’m going somewhere I have never been before and have very little knowledge of. I’ve been places in my life, and generally I have some idea about different parts of the world, especially countries I’m planning to visit. Philippines however, I knew nothing of. Except for having met several delightful Filipinos in the States and in the UK and by that having noticed some of their unique habits or ways of life, I know close to nothing about the culture itself. So that thought alone – the idea of exploring the unknown – got me really excited.
Firstly I would like to tell you that catching a cold before such a trip is not a good idea. And I don’t mean just the mere inconvenience of sneezing, getting partly deaf on the plane because your sinuses are not doing their job, and having to blow your nose in public (also causing the skin on your nose get irritatingly dry). No, that wasn’t a big issue at all, actually, it wasn’t the first time I travelled in bad physical shape (some of you may remember my petrifying condition coming back from Egypt). The unfortunate circumstances regard the fact that Asia seems to be obsessed with swine flu threats. People wearing face masks, all passengers filling out health declarations on the plane… Like a criminal I feared that sneezing in public would keep me at the airport for endless medical tests, preventing me from traveling on. I look at the questions in red on the declaration – “check which symptoms you’ve had in the past 7 days: high temperature, runny nose, coughing, breathing difficulty, etc.” HA. If I check even a single box, will I become a threat or suspect for the rest of the year? Will it pop up on the screen of every computer each time my passport gets swiped? Nice. So I analyze each one: I don’t really have a runny nose, I haven’t used a tissue on this flight yet. Coughing? I can keep myself from it, so I guess I don’t need to check that. No temperature, I breathe easily (with open mouth). I guess I’m ok. Granted, I almost completely lost my voice (again!), which would totally blow my disguise, but maybe if they don’t ask me anything, I won’t have to try and say anything. Yesss, I made it through Hong Kong and am in Manila. By the time I have to fly back, I’ll be fine. I think.
Ok, so the few hours I had in Hong Kong were awfully pleasant (like the word combo?). As I walked around the airport, I caught up with latest gossip (just merely noticing the mag covers), drank Starbucks (I don’t love it, but this proves that one always wants which one does not have), and eventually stopped by the windows. The weather was pathetic, I didn’t get much of a view of anything, but at the same time I still got captivated. The Hong Kong airport is located on an island, and surrounded (at least from one side) with mountains. I could see their shapes, and some skyscrapers on far left. It matched beautifully. I feel like I want to come back there now. As I wandered along the windows, I got to gate 24, where – oh joy – was a free wi-fi stand. I pull out my machine and get online. That’s when I get the news – typhoons in the Philippines, over 50 died in Manila alone. I wonder how many Manilas there are in the world, maybe there’s a chance I’m going to a different one…
After 2-hour delay, our plane finally takes off. I’m not sure if to be happy about it or not, but then I remember John Paul Jackson’s words: “Planes I fly don’t crash. I haven’t completed my God given missions yet. He keeps me alive.” I snooze off within minutes. As we land in Manila, I can feel the humidity already in the air-conditioned (!) halls of the airport. After some hassles (of course) I finally leave the airport building and the thick air hits me. It’s as “stuffy” as the air in spas or indoor swimming pools. In some strange way I enjoy it. I can already feel its miraculous effects on my skin, haha. But honestly, I start enjoying it, remembering how I love heat and just being hot. I sure do have a soft spot for high temperatures. My only concern is my uncontrollable hair, but I guess the synergy of the air with the hair will show its consequences only in time… For now it’s just thicker. Not commercial-style though.
I cannot help but think that Philippines could pull off faking Egypt or Mexico, even Spain, but my idea of “Asia”? No. I know I shouldn’t stereotype, but we all have our impressions and expectations, it’s human nature to “box” things in your head (psychologically proven). I feel like a member of the royal family, sitting in the back of a car with dark windows and white seats. As we stop at traffic lights little children surround our car, trying to sell me flowers or feathers (?). They glue their noses to the windows and try to peek inside. I can tell they can hardly see anything, but they notice there is one person inside, and it’s a woman. One little girl exclaims: “Your eyes are so attractive!!!” I laugh and remember hearing same kind of compliments in Egypt, I pull up my hand not sure what it is that I want to do, so I just touch the window and know all too well that I cannot open neither the door nor the window. Again, I feel like a member of the royal family – truly blessed, yes, but also somewhat trapped and helpless…
In the hotel lobby my prophetic spirit takes over when a handsome man says hello and smiles at me. I immediately know he’s Iranian. He doesn’t look Arab at all, so I don’t know where I got it from, other than I knew it in the spirit. Later, when I meet with my two American friends, we are told the hotel is full of volleyball players from around the world, because of some tournaments. The said guy enters the café we sit in, girls wonder if he’s French or Italian, so Sharon asks him. Guy says he’s from Iran. I twitch at his response. How did I know that?
After a short while in the lobby, I get tired. In a weird way I feel alienated and wonder what I’m doing here. I’m starting to count how many days I have left, so I can get this job done and exhale. I get the message my body and my mind is sending me: get some sleep. I peacefully comply, it’s late anyway. Going over my notes and preparing my intro speech make no sense tonight. I’m exhausted and it’s starting to affect my emotions. I better fly away before I lose all my self-confidence. I keep singing lyrics that have followed me all day today: Oh God, Father of Heaven and Earth, I call to like deep calls to deep over water. Just as a deer goes to water, so does my soul to you Father. Oh God, though I have wandered so far, you know that I’m still a (wo)man after your own heart.
I fall asleep trying to recall the lyrics to the second verse…
Thursday, September 17, 2009
all I ever really wanted
So much is going on in my life and aparently, few people know about this. I noticed it some time ago that when things are uncertain, I do not talk about them, because I first want to know how they play out. When it gets to the point when it's ok to talk about it, I somehow forget, because it's no longer "news". And when I do talk about it, I forget whom I told and whom I didn't, and people get mad. :
So what is going on... I am going to Philippines in about 9 days, where I'm going to teach at a training for magazine publishers. Together with two older, experienced and wise gentlemen I will lecture on what it is that I do. I'm a bit freaked out, yes, both thinking about what I should say and what I should wear, but outside of that, I am stoked about Asia. I look forward to seeing the world from a different corner. I'm also quite impressed with what God is doing in my life, and though it is to be expected that He will always blow your mind, I never cease to be amazed.
October is going to be the most crazy single month of my life. There's something going on every week, every weekend, and it all starts at the airport (when I return from Philippines) and ends at the airport (when I depart for Israel).
Yes, I will be going to Israel in the end of October. I am coorganizing a tour for my church, so about 40 of us will be enjoying some downtime together in the Holy Land. I am psyched to go back again, meet with some old friends, enjoy some fantastic food and the supernatural atmosphere of that place. At the same time, I am super happy to be going there with my whole family (last time we were there as a family was in 1991), and dear friends. On previous trips I was usually alone or with one other friend, so I never had an opportunity to truly live it up. Cannot wait!
Outside of that, what am I doing... we're still putting on exhibitions and presentations of the Israel photographs we got published this year. I speak at churches, museums and conferences. It's fun and rewarding. Naturally, I still work with the magazine and for the publishing house, so I'm desk-bound most of the time. I still put on Jewish Feasts at church and volunteer at Jewish Culture events.
...and all I ever really wanted was that cabin by the lake...*
*the #1 sentence I overuse when overwhelmed, said jokingly to relieve the stress.
It's all good. Good day, sunshine.
So what is going on... I am going to Philippines in about 9 days, where I'm going to teach at a training for magazine publishers. Together with two older, experienced and wise gentlemen I will lecture on what it is that I do. I'm a bit freaked out, yes, both thinking about what I should say and what I should wear, but outside of that, I am stoked about Asia. I look forward to seeing the world from a different corner. I'm also quite impressed with what God is doing in my life, and though it is to be expected that He will always blow your mind, I never cease to be amazed.
October is going to be the most crazy single month of my life. There's something going on every week, every weekend, and it all starts at the airport (when I return from Philippines) and ends at the airport (when I depart for Israel).
Yes, I will be going to Israel in the end of October. I am coorganizing a tour for my church, so about 40 of us will be enjoying some downtime together in the Holy Land. I am psyched to go back again, meet with some old friends, enjoy some fantastic food and the supernatural atmosphere of that place. At the same time, I am super happy to be going there with my whole family (last time we were there as a family was in 1991), and dear friends. On previous trips I was usually alone or with one other friend, so I never had an opportunity to truly live it up. Cannot wait!
Outside of that, what am I doing... we're still putting on exhibitions and presentations of the Israel photographs we got published this year. I speak at churches, museums and conferences. It's fun and rewarding. Naturally, I still work with the magazine and for the publishing house, so I'm desk-bound most of the time. I still put on Jewish Feasts at church and volunteer at Jewish Culture events.
...and all I ever really wanted was that cabin by the lake...*
*the #1 sentence I overuse when overwhelmed, said jokingly to relieve the stress.
It's all good. Good day, sunshine.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
in the little town by the forrest
Madonna performs her only concert in Poland today - on the biggest Catholic holiday I know, the Assumption of Mary. :) Now, seriously, some of you REALLY think it's coincidental?? :)) Puh-leeze. It's possibly the greatest marketing gimmick known to human kind. With all my heartfelt dislike for Madonna, I have to give her this: pure brilliance. Whether happy about it or not, EVERY single media outlet in the country was talking about this concert for the past month or more. SCORE. This is how you get ABSOLUTE publicity at practically no cost. Genius.
***
Dear Che Guevara fans.
If you're not my friend, why are you reading this?
If you are my friend, WHY are you a Che Guevara fan? I suggest you do one of the following: educate yourself OR talk to me about this. I would be happy to know who you are, so I can stare at your name, make a wry face, and exclaim: "oh my word, are you serious? of all people - you?! so disappointing."
Also, I would like to thank my friend David for bringing a certain book to my attention: "Exposing the real Che Guevara: and the useful Idiots who idolize him" by Humberto Fontova.
Also x2, go watch "The Lost City" with Andy Garcia.
***
My hometown, Ustron, is a circus at times. I love it. With the Catholic holiday at hand, beautiful weather and it still being the summer season, it is PACKED with puffed up richmen, trashy rich-wannabes, horrifying drivers, plastic blondes and hippie feminists, both accompanied by Johnny Bravos, times a million. This luxorious atmosphere spreads fast in all directions with the help of so-called 'music', river splashes and cotton candy.
I get this quality show all for free, with gorgeous mountains in the background, like that 80s wallpaper you wish you had in your living room.
***
Bachelorette Party tonight. Greek food, Sahara, laughs, blessings, 11 gorgeous ladies. Who would want to miss that!
***
Dear Che Guevara fans.
If you're not my friend, why are you reading this?
If you are my friend, WHY are you a Che Guevara fan? I suggest you do one of the following: educate yourself OR talk to me about this. I would be happy to know who you are, so I can stare at your name, make a wry face, and exclaim: "oh my word, are you serious? of all people - you?! so disappointing."
Also, I would like to thank my friend David for bringing a certain book to my attention: "Exposing the real Che Guevara: and the useful Idiots who idolize him" by Humberto Fontova.
Also x2, go watch "The Lost City" with Andy Garcia.
***
My hometown, Ustron, is a circus at times. I love it. With the Catholic holiday at hand, beautiful weather and it still being the summer season, it is PACKED with puffed up richmen, trashy rich-wannabes, horrifying drivers, plastic blondes and hippie feminists, both accompanied by Johnny Bravos, times a million. This luxorious atmosphere spreads fast in all directions with the help of so-called 'music', river splashes and cotton candy.
I get this quality show all for free, with gorgeous mountains in the background, like that 80s wallpaper you wish you had in your living room.
***
Bachelorette Party tonight. Greek food, Sahara, laughs, blessings, 11 gorgeous ladies. Who would want to miss that!
Friday, June 26, 2009
broken string
I haven't written anything literally in months, and today just seemed like a good writing day to me. I thought about blogging as I was falling asleep last night, and then the news in the morning hit me, and determined what I should be writing about. I do not have an alarm clock. I get woken up by my radio that automatically turns on at a set hour. First words that brought me back from a world full of dreams into harsh reality today, at 6:23 AM, were: "Michael Jackson is no more."
This entry is not merely about Michael Jackson. It's about one's life here on earth, individual and collective.
Most of you probably think, ok, he was an important pop icon, some of you may add, it is a loss to the world of music and art, but why make it such a big deal, essy? You didn't know him and you probably weren't even his biggest fan. Not a single poster on your wall, only a few albums, so why make it the reason for the first real blog entry in 2009?
Very true. Though I would not say a single bad word about him and I would always defend him in discussion, I admit there are multitudes that have been bigger fans, know more songs by heart and collected memorabilia. I was just an average listener, if you can call it that, and a simple girl that claimed P.Y.T. to be her iStage name. But to me Michael has always been more than a singer, than a dancer, than a performer... He was a man whose life was far from being ordinary. A person with obvious needs, dreams and ambitions. With no childhood, no privacy, and few genuine friends.
My eyes get teary as I listen to "Man in the Mirror", the anthem for many of my generation. The words pierce through me as I think of my life and what I desire to make of it. And I cannot help but think of Michael, and what it must have meant for him to sing this song. Did he ever kneel down on the floor, look out the window and into the sky, and think: "is this even the life I wanted?..."? Did it cross your mind that most of his life he would look in the mirror and did not like what he saw? Did he ever lose hope or did he hold on to it till his last day? He fought his own reflection in the mirror and the world hated him for it. The unhappy boy with low self-esteem became even more unhappy and started closing up. Ridiculed by his father, now managed to get the world ridicule him as well. Like a scared animal in a cage, he fed the ruthless humanity with reasons to judge. Well done, human kind, yet again you managed to destroy one of your greatest. In the decades to follow those same oppressors' children will praise him for his genius and will label him martyr.
In his restless attempts to flee from his own fears, he would open his heart up to those who never adjusted to the "real world" just like him. Take "Black or White", "Heal the World", "Earth Song", "Little Susie", "Lost Children" and more. He turned the world's eyes to Africa before Bono did. He brought celebrities together to sing "We are the world" before our presidents started using them to insult one another. As far as I can remember, he has been the first celebrity to stress so widely the importance of caring for children. Which, of course, has also been used against him.
The song "They don't care about us" always moves me to the core.
Let's leave THEM behind, so that WE can care for ONE ANOTHER. Michael's life story says it louder than anything else:
Don't hate.
Understand.
Give space.
Let live.
Be in awe.
Smile.
Be patient.
Love.
Don't envy.
Help out.
Keep the faith.
Reach out.
Care.
Pay attention.
Speak up.
Believe.
Don't judge.
Allow to be different.
Never give up.
And dance.
This entry is not merely about Michael Jackson. It's about one's life here on earth, individual and collective.
Most of you probably think, ok, he was an important pop icon, some of you may add, it is a loss to the world of music and art, but why make it such a big deal, essy? You didn't know him and you probably weren't even his biggest fan. Not a single poster on your wall, only a few albums, so why make it the reason for the first real blog entry in 2009?
Very true. Though I would not say a single bad word about him and I would always defend him in discussion, I admit there are multitudes that have been bigger fans, know more songs by heart and collected memorabilia. I was just an average listener, if you can call it that, and a simple girl that claimed P.Y.T. to be her iStage name. But to me Michael has always been more than a singer, than a dancer, than a performer... He was a man whose life was far from being ordinary. A person with obvious needs, dreams and ambitions. With no childhood, no privacy, and few genuine friends.
My eyes get teary as I listen to "Man in the Mirror", the anthem for many of my generation. The words pierce through me as I think of my life and what I desire to make of it. And I cannot help but think of Michael, and what it must have meant for him to sing this song. Did he ever kneel down on the floor, look out the window and into the sky, and think: "is this even the life I wanted?..."? Did it cross your mind that most of his life he would look in the mirror and did not like what he saw? Did he ever lose hope or did he hold on to it till his last day? He fought his own reflection in the mirror and the world hated him for it. The unhappy boy with low self-esteem became even more unhappy and started closing up. Ridiculed by his father, now managed to get the world ridicule him as well. Like a scared animal in a cage, he fed the ruthless humanity with reasons to judge. Well done, human kind, yet again you managed to destroy one of your greatest. In the decades to follow those same oppressors' children will praise him for his genius and will label him martyr.
In his restless attempts to flee from his own fears, he would open his heart up to those who never adjusted to the "real world" just like him. Take "Black or White", "Heal the World", "Earth Song", "Little Susie", "Lost Children" and more. He turned the world's eyes to Africa before Bono did. He brought celebrities together to sing "We are the world" before our presidents started using them to insult one another. As far as I can remember, he has been the first celebrity to stress so widely the importance of caring for children. Which, of course, has also been used against him.
The song "They don't care about us" always moves me to the core.
Let's leave THEM behind, so that WE can care for ONE ANOTHER. Michael's life story says it louder than anything else:
Don't hate.
Understand.
Give space.
Let live.
Be in awe.
Smile.
Be patient.
Love.
Don't envy.
Help out.
Keep the faith.
Reach out.
Care.
Pay attention.
Speak up.
Believe.
Don't judge.
Allow to be different.
Never give up.
And dance.
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