Spectacular Scotland

Scene from the beach where we picnicked
with the Mitchells on our last day in Scotland

“This beverage is actually illegal in Canada,” Mrs. Mitchell said as she poured me a glass. “It probably has something to do with this label, here.”

I squinted at the fine print on the bottle of orange liquid, a distinctly Scottish soft drink termed Irn-Bru. (That’s pronounced “iron brew,” and make sure to roll those r’s!) May cause an adverse affect on activity and attention in children. Hmmm. I took a sip. I still can’t tell you what it tastes like—a drink that combines 32 flavours will do that to your descriptive abilities. 

But it’s good. 

You can read the label for yourself!

Testing mysterious beverages, however, was only the beginning of our three day’s experience in Scotland. Our friends the Mitchells, the pastor family with whom we are staying, have done a highly thorough job of helping Jonathan and me tap into our Scottish roots. So far, for example, we’ve breakfasted on white (and black) puddings, explored the castle belonging to the clan of our great, great grandmother, and discovered that haggis is actually rather tasty.

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Midnight Marathon

Forty Hours.

Street level in Glasgow

That’s how long we went without being in bed—if you count the two-hour nap we had between 11:00 PM and 1:00AM on Sunday “going to bed!” Rising from this slumber, Jonathan and I flung ourselves into a whirlwind marathon of traveling by van, bus, car and plane, wandering city streets and waiting in airports, passing through six count-em ‘ countries in less than two days.

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Snapshots of Slovenia (and Italy...and Croatia...)

Countryside surrounding "Jerusalem," a region of Slovenia
filled with orchards and vineyards 

(Written Sunday, July 25)

The time has come to fill in all those little gaps. Gaps like last Saturday, part 2 of our team day excursion, which included spontaneously detouring to Italy, wandering solo through Slovenia's capital city and rowing on iconic Lake Bled. Gaps like yesterday, when we spent the afternoon on a day-trip for lunch in Croatia. Gaps like listing all the random cultural differences between Canada and Slovenia. Since I have little else to do, waiting here at the Amsterdam airport for our flight out to London (except to procrastinate booking our bus tickets back from Scotland), now is the perfect opportunity to degapify things. Since a picture is worth a thousand words, I'll let the photos do most of the talking.

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Street Level in Slovenia

What do performing a drama on a village square outside a small castle, playing acoustic guitar in a public park, and singing gospel music selections on Slovenian city streets have in common?

Our past week of team ministry, that's what.

It all began Sunday, with a typical church service at which we helped lead a few worship songs, performed our drama, and listened to one of our leaders deliver the message. That night, however, we took the show outside to street level for the first time with an open-air concert in Murska Sobota. There was only one problem: rain. Intermittent showers forced us to run for cover with the instruments a couple of times before the concert, leaving us with nothing to do but pray for the sky to clear for the duration of the concert. As we started singing, patches of blue began to overtake the sky, allowing low sunlight to illuminate the massive trees around us. And--though I must have been facing the wrong direction to see it--I hear there was even a beautiful rainbow overhead. 

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Team Day, Part 1: From the Postojna Caves to the Adriatic Sea

The village church bells have just tolled in the midnight hour, so I really should be sleeping instead of blogging out here on the balcony in the light of a nearly-full moon. But when there’s a random accordion, tuba and trumpet playing an off-key waltz to the somewhat harmonic singing of late night revelers somewhere a few properties away—well, let’s just say circumstances aren’t conducive to sleep just now anyway. So I may as well catch up on writing about our experiences traveling across Slovenia on a team-building excursion to recharge after the previous two weeks of active ministry.

Excitement was running high last Friday, a day which awoke to the sight of we eight Canadians climbing into our beloved “Canadian Mule” cube van and driving off into the horizon.  For two hours the cornfields and country-scape to which we had grown accustomed gave way to beautiful, forested foothills as we cruised down the highway. At last, the Mule pulled into our first destination: the famous Postojna Caves.

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Of Camping and Cornfields

Okay, so I have a lot of blogging to catch up on, and this cornfield just outside village limits seemed the perfect place to do it. We have more morning personal time today, but I’m simply not built to spend that long in the house if at all possible—especially in a country like this. Thus, this morning saw me sneak out of the building with my laptop and a handful of European chocolates stashed in my DIY backpack, bound for where I now sit typing on the ground, a few meters deep into an ocean of high green stalks. Looking up, I can just see patches of blue-and-clouded mixed sky between their distinctive narrow leaves. But back to the point of this exercise: writing about our two-day excursion to a young adult camp last week: 

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Onward to Slovenia

It's another quiet night in the little village of Gorica, in Slovenia. Only the hum of some distant highway, the whistling of night insects and the clacking of my keyboard can be heard on this balcony, where I'm writing in view of the first stars.

Ptuj, Slovenia

Fields surrounding our village

This is our fourth night here in Slovenia, and what a time it's been! From helping with four services held everywhere from a hotel in the oldest city of Slovenia to a tent at a Roma community...to trying lots of traditional food...to exploring neighboring villages solo on foot...the past few days have brought forth a host of exciting stories to tell.


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Unforgettable.

Last night, after camp wound up, the balmy sunny evening found our Canadian team debriefing about the week over glasses of Kofala at an outdoor restaurant nestled against a Slovakian woodland. The earthy fragrances of the forest mingled with the savory smell of roast pheasant, grilled duck and venison schnitzel, while Slovakian dancing music filled the air around us. But no one at the table was paying attention to the music--we were all leaning in, intently listening to the Pastor of the church at which we'd been ministering telling us this remarkable story:

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Five Days in Slovakia

(Saturday night, July 9)

This is the kind of moment you don't want to forget. I'm sitting in the living room of our awesome new home base tucked away in a scenic corner of  Slovenian farmland, bordering the town where we met with some local church groups tonight. An acoustic guitar is playing as my team members rehearse the songs we'll be singing at two separate churches tomorrow. The atmosphere is just asking for reflection, so let me tell you about some of the past week's adventures - from wrapping up camp...to waking up early to explore Nové Zámky on foot...to driving across Hungary and arriving at our new Slovenian Base Camp.

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Singing Strangers in Slovakia

All I could think of when we stepped inside the apartment building was that it felt like we were in a scene from God's Smuggler. The outside of the building itself looked enough like the many other such buildings comprising this area: decidedly square, about seven stories high, trees out front, bold colours and patterning painted on the stucco sides. But beyond the glass front door, steep concrete stairs, pale green paint and a retro elevator no larger than a telephone booth are enough to impress one with the sense that the clock has just rewound to another era. Yep, I loved it. Although we had only just arrived in Slovakia, I anticipated that this would be one good billeting experience.

Outside the church where we are running the Kids' Camp

Stepping off the elevator, we walked over to a sixth floor door which opened at once. An older lady was standing behind it, smiling, and she greeted us with a kiss on either cheek. She doesn't speak much English and my roommate and I certainly cannot speak Slovak. Communication, then, has involved a few words of each language, some German phrases, and a lot of Google Translate--with some both hilarious and unfortunate results which I will refrain from repeating here. 

Kofola, a really great Slovakian soft drink
reminiscent of cola--
but spicier with something like aniseed

One of the first Slovak words I learned was "paprika:" pepper. Indeed, breakfast Tuesday morning included meat, bread, tea, tomatoes and peppers. The first pepper slice I had was mild enough, so I had another--not realizing that the seeds have some serious kick to them! Leaving the table, I leaned back to rub my still jet-lagged eyes, and then paused, horrified. My whole face was on fire! Stumbling to the washroom turns out to be a highly difficult task when one's eyes are swollen shut, but it makes for a great learning experience. 

Scene sighted on an evening's stroll through town

But then, learning curves are part of plunging into any new culture, aren't they? And I'm loving the chance to dive (or belly flop) into this one. We've now completed three out of four days of our kids' ministry here, and it's been getting more exciting with each one. I broke out some coloured string to show the kids some of the string figures I've used previously in Mexico and Uganda, and it's been a hit. I thought I had brought enough string for the whole three weeks, but I ran out just three days into ministry! 

Small group time, between singing and English lesson at the camp

The camp days, for which I hope to have more pictures posted soon, have been a blast involving everything from English teaching to playground excursions to dancing to Slovak Sunday School songs. Some real spiritual breakthroughs have seemed to occur here as well. Today, for instance, was the day we presented the message of Jesus, with many of the kids going home at the day's end having been touched by His love. A large portion of the kids are from church backgrounds, as religiosity runs high here, but whether one has grown up in church is irrelevant to whether one has encountered the Living God. And that, I am excited to say, is what has been happening to young hearts here in Slovakia. Please continue to pray for both the children and the Canadian/Slovak leadership team as we wrap up the week of camp here in Nove' Zamky. We seriously can tell that people are praying for us, even from the other side of the world, and that is a blessing we do not take lightly. :)

A Walk in Vienna

July 3, 2016: 2:44 AM MT, 10:45 PM Slovakia Time

I'm sitting here by the open window of an apartment balcony somewhere in the country of Slovakia, listening to the sounds of crickets outside, mingled with the whirring of passing traffic and banter in a foreign language below. It's a beautiful clear summer night, the stars seemingly reflected by the streetlights and glowing apartment windows in the sleepy urban scene below. I should really be sleeping off some jet lag, given our early start tomorrow with the kids' camps, but I just HAD to jot down a few highlights from our journeys in downtown Vienna--the first European city whose streets these feet have touched--before the memories dim.


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Slovakia and Slovenia 2016: Update, Team Day and Take Off

Okay. So it's been awhile.

Our team is ready to fly!

When we last left off, I was instructing young children in the art of wielding hatchets, matches and flaming torches. Two years of west coast post-secondary and one very full summer have passed since then, filled with everything from acquiring a professional ventriloquist dummy and road tripping by midnight bus to handling what turned out to be the most poisonous amphibian on the west coast. Between these highlights, the days have been filled with such activities as studying textbooks, writing exams and working overtime seasonally. Spare moments have involved hiking on the beach, researching apologetics topics and furiously sewing to make the daypack that is now sitting on the airport Tim Horton's bench beside me. (I'm intrigued to see if this DIY pack which I broke seven sewing machines needles trying to assemble will actually hold up during our month-long expedition overseas... Only one way to find out.)

Oh yeah.

And in one hour we board the plane.

Then in a few days, God willing, we will be commencing a week of leading an English Camp for Kids in Slovakia, followed by a couple of weeks of volunteering at various places in Slovenia with our team of 8 Canadians. Afterwards, Jonathan and I plan to take on the UK for a week and do some exploring. If we can navigate the transit systems...

But one crisis at a time.

Like navigating river canoes.

That's right--when we gathered for our Team Building day yesterday, I was thrilled to discover a trailer of sleek, scarlet canoes waiting for us. Within an hour we were cruising past the city skyline on the broad, shining river, watching spray from our paddles--and waterguns--catching in the sunlight. Yes, we definitely had a mid-river water fight!







Later, I found myself in the backseat of a car headed deep into the country bound for an unidentified destination. The adventure turned out to be riflery, meaning that I soon had my hands on a fine-looking 22. I had shot a gun like that before, so wasn't too far out of my comfort zone. But the military rifle and the shot guns--those have kickback, right?

This concerned me a smidgen, but over the past three years I've gotten into the habit of doing scary stuff when given the opportunity, lest I regret it if I don't. This philosophy has landed me in some strange places, such as sitting on bovine's heads surrounded by lasso-wielding horsemen, leaping off high dives, and jumping into vertical caves to see caribou bones. And it's always been worth it, so pick up the larger rifle I did. The kickback was actually rather pleasant, feeling something like a friendly punch in the shoulder by an old pal. And while I'm no Annie Oakley, I did manage to shatter one airborne skeet and nick several others.

But this, I am certain, is only the beginning of regaining an elastic sort of comfort zone. Just when you get comfortable with one degree of stretchiness, God opens the way for you to stretch just a little bit further. Or a lot further. I couldn't be more excited to see what God has in store for our team on this adventure--just how far He'll take us.
And seeing as how we're sitting on the plane now, preparing for take off, it won't be long until we find out!