home

it’s snowing in different areas around me.  not here, but around.  it snowed in the Black Forest (twenty of our students are there right now) and yesterday the Swiss Alps were covered.  today, the fog decided not to come and we could actually see the mountains. 

it was fifteen minutes before dinner and i noticed how clear the view was.  my roommate grabbed her jacket and i, well, my two sweaters.  we ran downstairs with our cameras and passed a group of guys who had been working all afternoon.  in our excitement we managed to squeak out the fact that we were going to go take pictures and a few decided to join us.  we quickly made our way to the camp ground that’s next to us (the best place to take pictures) and that’s when we first noticed the fence.  i guess they closed the ground and now there’s a skinny tall gate (over 6′ tall) that moved when you gently placed your hand up against it.  my roommate and i looked at each other and guessed we’d not get any pictures that day.  the boys urged us to climb it. 

you do really stupid things in foreign countries.  like climb over fences only to realize later that technically you’re trespassing.  it was rather fun though — we almost fell off of it.  that’s what happens when there are two of you trying to climb over the top at the same time.

but hey, we’re fine, no one called the police because we were somewhere we weren’t supposed to be, and we got great photos.

edit

it snowed this morning right after breakfast.  we all ran out — some in flip-flops and others in slippers (for example, me) to enjoy the first snow here on the bodensee.  for half of us, snow is nothing new.  in fact, most of the canadians have reports from home saying that their younger siblings have already had snow days.  obviously, snow is nothing novel to me either, but there is nothing like seeing the expression on another’s face when they’re experiencing snow for the first time. 

Isaiah is from Kenya.  he has a wife and two young children at home.  he is a pastor and his church meets in a tin building with dirt floors, which is a step up from the tree that they used to gather under.  every sunday morning, in order for dust not to be kicked up, they sprinkle water on the floor to harden it.  he speaks english slowly and even then it’s hard to understand him.  but he smiles and says, “God bless you” to everyone he passes.  in lectures he wears a coat, hat, and scarf.  they don’t match and they look rather old and worn out. 

Isaiah has never seen snow.  we were all in the front and everyone kept asking, “where’s Isaiah?”  we all wanted him to see snow so badly.  a few minutes later he ran out in a t-shirt and a borrowed pair of crocs from his roommate.  his grin was huge and he ran around the parking lot, ecstatic over the snow that was falling. 

i loved it.

. . .

I didn’t hear you leave
I wonder how am I still here
And I don’t want to move a thing
It might change my memory

9 thoughts on “

  1. i haven’t even looked at the pics yet– i was too touched by your story of isaiah. you wrote about him in your letter home once, too. i would love to bless him somehow. do you have any ideas? something for his church? christmas gifts for his family?

  2. How’s it goin !! It really would be nice to see you sometime sooner then later ya know. Will we ever see you again ? I miss you and hope to see you around christmas ?

    zach

  3. I love reading your post’s. There’s something so romantically nostalgic about reading a friends post from a foreign country.

  4. Wait — how can you be missing his music? Didn’t you take his album with you? Can’t you have someone load it onto their iPod?

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