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!

Adventure Stories

Cooking grilled cheese over a "hobo stove,"
a survival cooker fashioned from a tin can

When's the last time you made grilled marshmallow sandwiches over a hobo stove?

Or practised twisting rabbit snares in a tipi during a hailstorm?

Or spent the night camping in a caboose, or on the top of a climbing wall tower?


Was it the last time you counseled at summer camp? Sweet! Me too!

A hut I built with one of my wrangler friends.
It definitely has some Ugandan influence...

This summer has definitely been a good one for cultivating memories--not to mention jungle skills. It's 10-12-year-old camp right now, in which the campers get to sign up for a "focus skill" to learn their favourite activity in-depth. I'm instructing Wilderness, meaning that I now get to spend thirteen hours a week teaching kids survival skills. We build solar stills to extract water from grass, make sample snares, bake and grill over the fire, lash logs for shelters, build survival kits...

Feathering a stick to make tinder

Of all the sessions I've taught so far, my favourite one happened during a thunderstorm. Since one of the campers was terrified of thunder, we held the activity inside the cabin. Lacking the usual hatchets, knives, matches and firewood, I instead spent a good twenty minutes demonstrating bandana uses: bandaging, pouch-folding, slingshotting cotton balls...

The Caboose, furnished with bunks to camp in

"Tell us an adventure survival story!" someone then asked. "Like the time you were eaten by an alligator or something!"

Well, I didn't have an alligator story. But I DID have a malaria one! The rest of the hour then, was spent in missions adventure storytelling. About me, about the pioneers of old, about the miracles happening to the persecuted church today... It was SO cool to see the wonder in their eyeballs as they heard the true testimonies of God's power, and the daring lives of His followers.

But the power of storytelling doesn't always go from leader to camper. Sometimes it's the other way around. Last Monday as we were making s'mores around our Snack-Out Night fire and sharing testimonies, one little girl put up her hand to say something. She began telling her story, one of immense heartbreak. How could a life that young know so much tragedy? I asked, beginning to feel weighed down until God reminded me "It's alright...it's not your job to carry these kids' burdens. I got this." And sure enough, He did.

On the last night of camp, after we'd gotten everyone finally settled in bed as opposed to bounding wildly across the room singing songs from Frozen, I read from biblical prophecies for devotions. We started in Isaiah, about Jesus, and ended with the Revelation passage about the new heaven and the new earth. As I read, the cabin door creaked open and this girl and another counselor walked in from where they'd been talking after evening chapel.

"Can I tell you what I saw, after?" she asked. I nodded and kept reading. Once we were through, and before I went out to get Bibles for some of the campers, I waited for her to tell her story. What I heard made my jaw drop.

"I heard God tonight," she said quietly. "He said my name and told me I don't have to be scared anymore. And then I saw Him. He opened a big wooden door, and it was very bright inside. I entered and saw my brother (who had been killed in an accident). He said he was ok, and that he was saved. We talked, and then Jesus said it was time to go, but I'd see Him in me dream..."

Your God is alive and well. He's been here for some crazy stuff at camp, and not all the stories make it to this blog. Some of the sights I've seen have been hard: outbreaks of anger, effects of hurt, times of warfare. But His victory is there too, and it's been in some of the craziest times so far that I've known it the most. In every hardship and highlight, He's been with us. He is here, and I wouldn't rather be anywhere else.