"It will be said on that day, 'Behold, this is our God; we have waited for Him, that He might save us. This is the LORD; we have waited for Him; let us be glad and rejoice in His salvation.'" (Isaiah 25:9)
My life seems to be in a period of waiting right now. There's not much else I can do.
But, the good news is that I'm waiting in London, so at least I'm not bored. Here are some of the latest highlights:
*In the last week I saw the musical Wicked and the play The 39 Steps, both absolutely fantastic! I think Wicked has become one of my all-time favorites now. Amazing how God can teach you things through secular theatre. The 39 Steps was a comedy based off of a play which was also a Hitchock film. It consisted of 4 actors playing at least 139 different characters, showing a LOT of great movement. Katy and I also witnessed some stag and hen parties the night we saw The 39 Steps. Apparently Saturday night is the night to look ridiculous.
*I got to go to Oxford last weekend with my school! It was so beautiful there. While there I ate at The Eagle and Child, the pub where C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien and other Inklings often visited. I was simply ecstatic, I could hardly contain myself!
*I went bookstore hopping last Thursday with Katy. I held first editions of Lewis and Tolkien books, among others. At one point I found a first edition of Till We Have Faces, and I just couldn't put it down. I carried it around the store until I finally forced myself to leave. If I had had my debit card with me, and if I didn't have Katy holding me back, I may have done something desperate, like actually buy it! Who cares that it's 125 pounds . . .
*I visited Kew Gardens with Katy and Whitney yesterday. It was beautiful weather, and the gardens were gorgeous. We had a lot of fun taking pictures and spotting random wildlife like squirrels and peacocks. I met a cute little British toddler who showed me around his "house" (a man-made cave sort of thing that's supposed to show you what a badger den is like), and I also proposed to Whitney (she said yes, but later we called it off, we weren't ready for that step just yet [actually one of our photo shoots started looking like an engagement shoot, and the rest you can figure out for yourself]). 'Twas quite fun.
Okay, it's 12:30 a.m. Tomorrow I'm going to the Globe Theatre to celebrate Shakespeare's birthday with some free events, and I probably should do some homework. That darn homework.
Less than a month and I'll be back home.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
I am dark, but lovely.
I've been struggling lately. I miss home, I miss my family, and every moment God's bringing up more nasty control that He wants out of me. I'm realizing yet again that God doesn't want good behavior. He's way more interested in me having a healed heart that is devoted to Him, and the healing process often looks ugly and makes a good Christian look pretty dark.
I have a little book called Daily Light. It has for every day a morning and evening reading which consists of one theme verse, then multiple verses to go along with the first one. The verses are taken from completely different parts of the Bible, yet they flow together quite beautifully. Today's was so perfect and so poetic, I had to share.
I am dark, but lovely.
Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin my mother conceived me. ~ "Your fame went out among the nations because of your beauty, for it was perfect through My splendor which I had bestowed on you," says the Lord GOD.
I am a sinful man, O LORD! ~ Behold, you are fair, my love! Behold, you are fair!
"I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." ~ You are all fair, my love, and there is no spot in you.
I find then a law, that evil is present with me, the one who wills to do good. ~ Be of good cheer; your sins are forgiven you.
I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) nothing good dwells. ~ You are complete in Him. ~ Perfect in Christ Jesus.
You were washed, . . . you were sanctified, . . . you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God. ~ That you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.
(Song of Sol. 1:5; Ps. 51:5; Ezek. 16:14; Luke 5:8; Song of Sol. 4:1; Job 42:6; Song of Sol. 4:7l Rom. 7:21; Matt. 9:2; Rom. 7:18; Col. 1:28; 1 Cor. 6:11; 1 Pet. 2:9)
I have a little book called Daily Light. It has for every day a morning and evening reading which consists of one theme verse, then multiple verses to go along with the first one. The verses are taken from completely different parts of the Bible, yet they flow together quite beautifully. Today's was so perfect and so poetic, I had to share.
I am dark, but lovely.
Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin my mother conceived me. ~ "Your fame went out among the nations because of your beauty, for it was perfect through My splendor which I had bestowed on you," says the Lord GOD.
I am a sinful man, O LORD! ~ Behold, you are fair, my love! Behold, you are fair!
"I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." ~ You are all fair, my love, and there is no spot in you.
I find then a law, that evil is present with me, the one who wills to do good. ~ Be of good cheer; your sins are forgiven you.
I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) nothing good dwells. ~ You are complete in Him. ~ Perfect in Christ Jesus.
You were washed, . . . you were sanctified, . . . you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God. ~ That you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.
(Song of Sol. 1:5; Ps. 51:5; Ezek. 16:14; Luke 5:8; Song of Sol. 4:1; Job 42:6; Song of Sol. 4:7l Rom. 7:21; Matt. 9:2; Rom. 7:18; Col. 1:28; 1 Cor. 6:11; 1 Pet. 2:9)
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Lonely
And now is the time when I finally crack.
All I want is one person who's on the same page as me, one person who can identify at all and who isn't an ocean and a continent away.
I want a church family in the same time zone as me.
I don't know if I just made the wrong decision for a church to choose, or if I'm not supposed to get plugged into anything, but it just doesn't seem to be working.
What I wouldn't give for a hug.
Whatever happens, I don't want any cliche answers like "You're not alone, God is with you," or "Just spend some time with the Lord," or "Enjoy London, you'll be back home before you know it." I'm sick of that.
I miss my home.
All I want is one person who's on the same page as me, one person who can identify at all and who isn't an ocean and a continent away.
I want a church family in the same time zone as me.
I don't know if I just made the wrong decision for a church to choose, or if I'm not supposed to get plugged into anything, but it just doesn't seem to be working.
What I wouldn't give for a hug.
Whatever happens, I don't want any cliche answers like "You're not alone, God is with you," or "Just spend some time with the Lord," or "Enjoy London, you'll be back home before you know it." I'm sick of that.
I miss my home.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Mid-term Break, Part 2: Ireland
Ireland made me appreciate London- a lot!
First of all, we had to take a bus to Stanstead Airport (it's about an hour outside of Central London) and spend the night there at the airport before our plane left the next morning. It was an adventure- one I hope I never have to repeat. It's not easy sleeping on a cold airport floor, no matter how many dozens of other people are also sprawled out around you. After getting a couple hours of sleep here and there, we got onto our RyanAir flight. I think Whitney said it best- it's a cartoon flight. Everything is blue and gaudy yellow, and not-too-subtle commercials play over the plane's speakers every few minutes of the hour-long flight. It's the cheapest you can get, and it's not too hard to figure out why. We did make it through with our ONE bag (no handbags or cameras or anything else are allowed to be carried outside of your one carry-on, and they will charge you 35 pounds if you don't abide by the rules), and we made it safely to Ireland.
I was told that Ireland never snowed. As our flight landed in Dublin, heavy snow was blocking most of our view. It wasn't sticking, just enough to make it wet and cold outside. Welcome to Eire? We did end up having pretty much every kind of weather possible (except for natural disasters, thankfully)- snow, rain, hail, pouring rain, drizzle, cloudy weather, and SUN! Yes, it was sunny for most of Wednesday and Thursday, which I believe was a direct miracle from God. Thank You, Lord! Ireland is much more beautiful when you're not wet.
After landing we took the bus to Abigail's hostel. The bad news was that the hostel just wasn't the best- no baking sheets when we wanted to cook chicken nuggets (we now know that you can use a dinner plate in the oven), nothing to do in the lounge, a complicated security system which kept the key from us, and nice but unapproachable staff. The good news was that our hostel was very clean, had a free luggage room, ensuite bathrooms, and, best of all, free tea at all times (kind of a standard hostel thing, but incredibly appreciated nonetheless).
It didn't take us long wandering the streets of Dublin to realize the biggest problem with the city: it's expensive! I've heard London is the most expensive city on Earth, but now I'm pretty sure Dublin is. We looked around and visited a couple of museums, but we didn't get too much done that first day before we made our way back to our hostel to take a much needed 3-hour nap.
On Tuesday I got to visit the Book of Kells at Trinity College. It's an old, very important illustrated manuscript of the Bible (I suggest looking it up for yourself). Not only did I get to see extremely old manuscripts, but the exhibit also included the Old Library, where other old and valuable books are preserved. The library is magnificent, like the library of my dreams. I'm not sure how to explain it all, but I think that this visit affected me somehow. It's like I remembered what I want to do with my life, one of the things that makes me excited and overjoyed. It gave me some sort of direction.
On Thursday we went to Bray, a small bay town about an hour from Dublin on the overground system. It was beautiful, more like the countryside Ireland I wanted to see. We went for a long walk along the waterfront and on the hill, saw swans, had ice cream, and discovered the Town Hall which was turned into a McDonald's. A more pleasant Ireland than Dublin, it was.
Thursday night we went to a bar where we saw traditional Irish musicians and dancers. It was probably my favorite part of the trip! It was all fantastic (Bulmer's cider is now one of my favorite drinks). The flutist that night had played in the Lord of the Rings, which made me very excited. :D And one of the songs they sang was from P.S. I Love You (the song the guy in the bar sings when she's out drinking). It was a great night!
The rest of the trip was kind of dull. We didn't think when we booked tickets that that Friday was Good Friday- in a Catholic country no less! So, since all the pubs and most of the museums were closed, we did a little shopping and then spent a good 5 or so hours waiting in the lounge until we could leave for our plane back. I think we probably had 10 cups of tea between us.
Our flight back was uneventful, but we did get to take the night bus to bring us back home around 2:30 a.m. Another experience! (night buses are generally known for being a little sketch . . . safe, but usually have a few drunk people going home from partying)
All in all, Ireland was an experience. I'm glad I did it. The countryside was beautiful, the Book of Kells exhibit was great, and the music and dancing was a lot of fun. The whole thing was a character-building experience, to say the least. It was good, but I am SO thankful for London now! Praise God that I can be back at my home, sweet home!
First of all, we had to take a bus to Stanstead Airport (it's about an hour outside of Central London) and spend the night there at the airport before our plane left the next morning. It was an adventure- one I hope I never have to repeat. It's not easy sleeping on a cold airport floor, no matter how many dozens of other people are also sprawled out around you. After getting a couple hours of sleep here and there, we got onto our RyanAir flight. I think Whitney said it best- it's a cartoon flight. Everything is blue and gaudy yellow, and not-too-subtle commercials play over the plane's speakers every few minutes of the hour-long flight. It's the cheapest you can get, and it's not too hard to figure out why. We did make it through with our ONE bag (no handbags or cameras or anything else are allowed to be carried outside of your one carry-on, and they will charge you 35 pounds if you don't abide by the rules), and we made it safely to Ireland.
I was told that Ireland never snowed. As our flight landed in Dublin, heavy snow was blocking most of our view. It wasn't sticking, just enough to make it wet and cold outside. Welcome to Eire? We did end up having pretty much every kind of weather possible (except for natural disasters, thankfully)- snow, rain, hail, pouring rain, drizzle, cloudy weather, and SUN! Yes, it was sunny for most of Wednesday and Thursday, which I believe was a direct miracle from God. Thank You, Lord! Ireland is much more beautiful when you're not wet.
After landing we took the bus to Abigail's hostel. The bad news was that the hostel just wasn't the best- no baking sheets when we wanted to cook chicken nuggets (we now know that you can use a dinner plate in the oven), nothing to do in the lounge, a complicated security system which kept the key from us, and nice but unapproachable staff. The good news was that our hostel was very clean, had a free luggage room, ensuite bathrooms, and, best of all, free tea at all times (kind of a standard hostel thing, but incredibly appreciated nonetheless).
It didn't take us long wandering the streets of Dublin to realize the biggest problem with the city: it's expensive! I've heard London is the most expensive city on Earth, but now I'm pretty sure Dublin is. We looked around and visited a couple of museums, but we didn't get too much done that first day before we made our way back to our hostel to take a much needed 3-hour nap.
On Tuesday I got to visit the Book of Kells at Trinity College. It's an old, very important illustrated manuscript of the Bible (I suggest looking it up for yourself). Not only did I get to see extremely old manuscripts, but the exhibit also included the Old Library, where other old and valuable books are preserved. The library is magnificent, like the library of my dreams. I'm not sure how to explain it all, but I think that this visit affected me somehow. It's like I remembered what I want to do with my life, one of the things that makes me excited and overjoyed. It gave me some sort of direction.
On Thursday we went to Bray, a small bay town about an hour from Dublin on the overground system. It was beautiful, more like the countryside Ireland I wanted to see. We went for a long walk along the waterfront and on the hill, saw swans, had ice cream, and discovered the Town Hall which was turned into a McDonald's. A more pleasant Ireland than Dublin, it was.
Thursday night we went to a bar where we saw traditional Irish musicians and dancers. It was probably my favorite part of the trip! It was all fantastic (Bulmer's cider is now one of my favorite drinks). The flutist that night had played in the Lord of the Rings, which made me very excited. :D And one of the songs they sang was from P.S. I Love You (the song the guy in the bar sings when she's out drinking). It was a great night!
The rest of the trip was kind of dull. We didn't think when we booked tickets that that Friday was Good Friday- in a Catholic country no less! So, since all the pubs and most of the museums were closed, we did a little shopping and then spent a good 5 or so hours waiting in the lounge until we could leave for our plane back. I think we probably had 10 cups of tea between us.
Our flight back was uneventful, but we did get to take the night bus to bring us back home around 2:30 a.m. Another experience! (night buses are generally known for being a little sketch . . . safe, but usually have a few drunk people going home from partying)
All in all, Ireland was an experience. I'm glad I did it. The countryside was beautiful, the Book of Kells exhibit was great, and the music and dancing was a lot of fun. The whole thing was a character-building experience, to say the least. It was good, but I am SO thankful for London now! Praise God that I can be back at my home, sweet home!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Mid-term, Pt. 1: Wales
Friday morning Liz, Whitney, and I took a train to Cardiff, Wales. I didn't know a whole lot about Wales, other than the history I was learning from Stephen Lawhead's King Raven Trilogy and the comment on a tourism site, "Wales shares an island with England and Scotland" (Wales is, in fact, a part of the United Kingdom).
This is what I learned:
~Nice hostels aren't always quiet hostels. Our hostel was recently renovated, as was pretty obvious. The halls leading to the dorms were lit by magenta blacklights, and the room numbers were displayed on the doors with blue spotlights. Unfortunately, this seemed to be just the place for a lot of partyers for the weekend, making for a loud couple of nights. Overall, though, it was a very clean and decent hostel, complete with free tea and coffee at all times. Our one roommate was very sweet, a 24-year-old master's student at a university down the street from our school. She wasn't too interested in the party scene, so we ended up hanging out with her Saturday night and watching School of Rock in the t.v. lounge.
~The Welsh are outrageously friendly! On Saturday we walked about 3 1/2 miles down the river to Cardiff Bay. It's a beautiful little bay town, so much fun. When we first got there we saw a lighthouse statue in front of the police station, and on the rocks at the base were written random words like Texan, Tiger growling, Italian, and toaster. We really wanted to know the meaning behind the words, so we decided to be brave and go inside the police station. Expecting a short, impatient answer from a tired officer, we were pleasantly surprised to find a Welsh woman who was very eager to help us. She didn't know the answer, so she asked her co-worker, called a few other co-workers, looked online, did everything she could possibly think of to find our answer! The final answer: it's modern art, there's no meaning to the words.
After our police station experience, we visited the Bay, where we went to the National Assembly Rooms. The women at the front desk answered all our random questions on Wales (about 22% spoke Welsh as a first language about 8 years ago, the number is now larger), but they also printed out all the info we could need for our next museum adventure, St. Fagin's.
On Sunday afternoon Whitney and I were going to check out Moriah Chapel, the place where the Welsh Revival took place in the early 1900s. Well, we didn't know how to get there, so while I was trying to get info from Liz who was online back in London, Whitney boarded a bus and asked the bus driver where it was. He had no idea, and he told her to ask the people on the bus. She did it--she asked the full bus how to get to Moriah Chapel! After everyone said they didn't know, one old man told us where he thought there was one. Our problem was solved, and we only lost our pride.
When we did visit Moriah Chapel for their afternoon worship service, the caretaker was very pleased to show us around and make sure I got a million photos. Although he was so Welsh we couldn't understand a lot of what he said, he was very, very friendly. The people there wouldn't let us get a bus-- the visiting pastor insisted on driving us back to Swansea, and then he took us on a long driving tour of the stunning Swansea coastline. The kindness of Wales was above and beyond what we needed or expected.
~I don't know Welsh, nor do I have the ability to pronounce Welsh. While boarding the bus to Moriah Chapel, I asked for a return ticket to Loughor. The bus driver didn't understand me. I tried again. He still couldn't figure out what I was saying. I yelled to Whitney, who was standing behind 2 giggling preteen girls, and she told me to spell it. I did, and after a moment the bus driver said, "Oh!" and spoke a name which sounded like "l-wispycough-ah." I didn't even try to pronounce it again. Pride? Gone!
~Whitney is an amazing friend. I was ready to give up on finding Moriah Chapel, but she went above and beyond to try and figure out how to get there. She didn't even care about seeing it, but she made sure I was able to go.
~Wales is very different from England. I learned a lot of this while talking to our tour guide pastor. While perhaps not as vocal or politically strong as Scotland, Wales does not like England, nor does it want to be British. Everywhere we looked there was a red dragon or a daffodil, the symbols of Wales. Every sign was both in Welsh and English. The people are friendlier than in London, much more emotional than the stoic English. They have great pride in their culture, something which I think a lot of the English have lost in their quest to be British.
So how was Wales? It was wonderful, a beautiful place full of great people. Yet I don't feel the same sort of connection there that I do in England or Scotland, the feeling that there's something more here, that I belong here for a longer amount of time than a visit. I definitely want to go back to Wales, but right now I don't think it's going to hold the same sort of place in my heart as England.
This is what I learned:
~Nice hostels aren't always quiet hostels. Our hostel was recently renovated, as was pretty obvious. The halls leading to the dorms were lit by magenta blacklights, and the room numbers were displayed on the doors with blue spotlights. Unfortunately, this seemed to be just the place for a lot of partyers for the weekend, making for a loud couple of nights. Overall, though, it was a very clean and decent hostel, complete with free tea and coffee at all times. Our one roommate was very sweet, a 24-year-old master's student at a university down the street from our school. She wasn't too interested in the party scene, so we ended up hanging out with her Saturday night and watching School of Rock in the t.v. lounge.
~The Welsh are outrageously friendly! On Saturday we walked about 3 1/2 miles down the river to Cardiff Bay. It's a beautiful little bay town, so much fun. When we first got there we saw a lighthouse statue in front of the police station, and on the rocks at the base were written random words like Texan, Tiger growling, Italian, and toaster. We really wanted to know the meaning behind the words, so we decided to be brave and go inside the police station. Expecting a short, impatient answer from a tired officer, we were pleasantly surprised to find a Welsh woman who was very eager to help us. She didn't know the answer, so she asked her co-worker, called a few other co-workers, looked online, did everything she could possibly think of to find our answer! The final answer: it's modern art, there's no meaning to the words.
After our police station experience, we visited the Bay, where we went to the National Assembly Rooms. The women at the front desk answered all our random questions on Wales (about 22% spoke Welsh as a first language about 8 years ago, the number is now larger), but they also printed out all the info we could need for our next museum adventure, St. Fagin's.
On Sunday afternoon Whitney and I were going to check out Moriah Chapel, the place where the Welsh Revival took place in the early 1900s. Well, we didn't know how to get there, so while I was trying to get info from Liz who was online back in London, Whitney boarded a bus and asked the bus driver where it was. He had no idea, and he told her to ask the people on the bus. She did it--she asked the full bus how to get to Moriah Chapel! After everyone said they didn't know, one old man told us where he thought there was one. Our problem was solved, and we only lost our pride.
When we did visit Moriah Chapel for their afternoon worship service, the caretaker was very pleased to show us around and make sure I got a million photos. Although he was so Welsh we couldn't understand a lot of what he said, he was very, very friendly. The people there wouldn't let us get a bus-- the visiting pastor insisted on driving us back to Swansea, and then he took us on a long driving tour of the stunning Swansea coastline. The kindness of Wales was above and beyond what we needed or expected.
~I don't know Welsh, nor do I have the ability to pronounce Welsh. While boarding the bus to Moriah Chapel, I asked for a return ticket to Loughor. The bus driver didn't understand me. I tried again. He still couldn't figure out what I was saying. I yelled to Whitney, who was standing behind 2 giggling preteen girls, and she told me to spell it. I did, and after a moment the bus driver said, "Oh!" and spoke a name which sounded like "l-wispycough-ah." I didn't even try to pronounce it again. Pride? Gone!
~Whitney is an amazing friend. I was ready to give up on finding Moriah Chapel, but she went above and beyond to try and figure out how to get there. She didn't even care about seeing it, but she made sure I was able to go.
~Wales is very different from England. I learned a lot of this while talking to our tour guide pastor. While perhaps not as vocal or politically strong as Scotland, Wales does not like England, nor does it want to be British. Everywhere we looked there was a red dragon or a daffodil, the symbols of Wales. Every sign was both in Welsh and English. The people are friendlier than in London, much more emotional than the stoic English. They have great pride in their culture, something which I think a lot of the English have lost in their quest to be British.
So how was Wales? It was wonderful, a beautiful place full of great people. Yet I don't feel the same sort of connection there that I do in England or Scotland, the feeling that there's something more here, that I belong here for a longer amount of time than a visit. I definitely want to go back to Wales, but right now I don't think it's going to hold the same sort of place in my heart as England.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Beauty
Although the underground system is full of crowds and pollution, I get excited when I see a new poster advertising a museum or West End show- bright colors or calming artwork- beauty in the midst of the dull and industrial.
The old buildings lining the streets of London tend to be grouped in blocks of identical narrow brick structures, yet the nameplates next to each door are unique to the personalities of the owners- individual beauty in the midst of cookie cutter beauty.
There are quite a few bridges in London, and all of them are either decorated in some vibrant way or designed so uniquely that they are stunning. Beauty in the midst of functionality.
A church is very much alive, even teaches Freedom classes. But they don't meet in a school building or warehouse (like I'm used to). They meet in a building that's at least 75 years old and has stained glass windows and paintings lining the walls. Physical beauty in the midst of spiritual beauty.
You walk down a random central London street, past Sainsbury's Express grocery stores and Pret a Mange organic cafes and Caffe Nero coffee shops and Carphone Warehouse cell phone stores, and there, in the middle of the buildings is a park. It's not a big park, and it's just one in many in central London. But here, in this spot, it provides a green escape from the gray of the city. Beauty in the midst of the crowded.
Over the last three months I've come to appreciate beauty. England has an appreciation for beauty which I think has been lost in the utilitarian, independent, achieving society of America. We need achievers and hardworking people in our society, yes, but I feel like Americans have lost something in our goal-oriented mentality. Gazing on beauty has no tangible value, so we dismiss it as laziness, unless we have already accomplished all of our tasks for the day and are "taking it easy." Yet this is not how we were meant to be.
The old buildings lining the streets of London tend to be grouped in blocks of identical narrow brick structures, yet the nameplates next to each door are unique to the personalities of the owners- individual beauty in the midst of cookie cutter beauty.
There are quite a few bridges in London, and all of them are either decorated in some vibrant way or designed so uniquely that they are stunning. Beauty in the midst of functionality.
A church is very much alive, even teaches Freedom classes. But they don't meet in a school building or warehouse (like I'm used to). They meet in a building that's at least 75 years old and has stained glass windows and paintings lining the walls. Physical beauty in the midst of spiritual beauty.
You walk down a random central London street, past Sainsbury's Express grocery stores and Pret a Mange organic cafes and Caffe Nero coffee shops and Carphone Warehouse cell phone stores, and there, in the middle of the buildings is a park. It's not a big park, and it's just one in many in central London. But here, in this spot, it provides a green escape from the gray of the city. Beauty in the midst of the crowded.
Over the last three months I've come to appreciate beauty. England has an appreciation for beauty which I think has been lost in the utilitarian, independent, achieving society of America. We need achievers and hardworking people in our society, yes, but I feel like Americans have lost something in our goal-oriented mentality. Gazing on beauty has no tangible value, so we dismiss it as laziness, unless we have already accomplished all of our tasks for the day and are "taking it easy." Yet this is not how we were meant to be.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Scotland
I know this is late, but I wanted to say a little bit about what my trip to Scotland was like. Our whole school of 29 American students and 1 poor somewhat older British teacher went to Edinburgh last week, Wednesday-Friday.
The train ride was beautiful. It took about 4 hours, and I can only imagine how gorgeous it must be when it's not cloudy. Some areas were snowy, making it even more beautiful as patches of white appeared now and again in the middle of green fields and eventually gray rocky cliffs. So stunning.
The hostel was like a combination between camp and a hotel- bunkbeds in a hotel room without the free toiletries. So much nicer than I expected, so great.
We explored Edinburgh castle, which was quite fun. Honestly, I feel like the excitement of a castle kind of dies down after about half an hour of roaming the stone buildings in frigid, rainy weather. It did have a beautiful view of the city, and great hot chocolate at the cafe, though.
We went to an art museum and a history museum. I definitely appreciated the history museum better- Katy and I spent a long time on just 1 of the 5 floors, exploring the history of Scotland. If you ever want to learn about some huge injustices, explore the history of Scotland. It's full of injustice and atrocity, and ended its life as a nation when its bribed government leaders voted it out of existence. It's a fascinating and sad story that is still being played out.
I went to a pub with a few friends. Very low key, which was nice. One of my friends asked if there was such a thing as a Scottish wine since she doesn't like beer. The bartender laughed and said, "Are you kidding me? Have you seen this weather?" That meant no. She ended up with a strawberry beer which was much better than the pale ale that I had (I've decided that I just don't like beer and I can't change that).
We climbed a hill overlooking the city, and in the freezing, windy weather some of us climbed Nelson's Monument, a tower that gives an incredible view of the city. In this picture, if you see a hill to the right, the castle is on top of it.

We went to the Scottish Parliament building. Interesting fact: in 1999 Great Britain allowed Scotland to form its own Parliament for the first time since 1707 I believe. Scotland wanted to build the building on the hill where the Nelson monument is (there is plenty of space). Instead, Great Britain made them build it in the lowest valley in the city. Anyway, it's a very cool building, and this is a picture of the room where they vote and debate and such.

I wish I could tell more about my trip, but I am simply too tired to write it all now. I will say, however, that this is an incredible nation originally designed to endure hardship with amazing joy. I want to go back to Scotland. I don't know how to describe how I feel about it, but there's so much more that I want to see and discover about the land, I don't think I'm done there.
Here's a poem that I wrote last week to describe the city. It's rough, but hopefully it will give you at least something of a picture of what is really a beautiful land.
Edinburgh
Gray stone layered on gray stone,
Elegant in its blank, bare beauty.
It had a life once, did it not,
When the gray was as silver fresh off
The forge? But smoke soon smothered
In the name of progress, and builders
Demolished in the name of development.
What's left stands bravely, lovely, darkly,
Defying any who would think it dull, yet
Whispering silently, longing for something
More. In the sound of cars, buses, and rain
I can barely hear the prayer: give me life!
The train ride was beautiful. It took about 4 hours, and I can only imagine how gorgeous it must be when it's not cloudy. Some areas were snowy, making it even more beautiful as patches of white appeared now and again in the middle of green fields and eventually gray rocky cliffs. So stunning.
The hostel was like a combination between camp and a hotel- bunkbeds in a hotel room without the free toiletries. So much nicer than I expected, so great.
We explored Edinburgh castle, which was quite fun. Honestly, I feel like the excitement of a castle kind of dies down after about half an hour of roaming the stone buildings in frigid, rainy weather. It did have a beautiful view of the city, and great hot chocolate at the cafe, though.
We went to an art museum and a history museum. I definitely appreciated the history museum better- Katy and I spent a long time on just 1 of the 5 floors, exploring the history of Scotland. If you ever want to learn about some huge injustices, explore the history of Scotland. It's full of injustice and atrocity, and ended its life as a nation when its bribed government leaders voted it out of existence. It's a fascinating and sad story that is still being played out.
I went to a pub with a few friends. Very low key, which was nice. One of my friends asked if there was such a thing as a Scottish wine since she doesn't like beer. The bartender laughed and said, "Are you kidding me? Have you seen this weather?" That meant no. She ended up with a strawberry beer which was much better than the pale ale that I had (I've decided that I just don't like beer and I can't change that).
We climbed a hill overlooking the city, and in the freezing, windy weather some of us climbed Nelson's Monument, a tower that gives an incredible view of the city. In this picture, if you see a hill to the right, the castle is on top of it.
We went to the Scottish Parliament building. Interesting fact: in 1999 Great Britain allowed Scotland to form its own Parliament for the first time since 1707 I believe. Scotland wanted to build the building on the hill where the Nelson monument is (there is plenty of space). Instead, Great Britain made them build it in the lowest valley in the city. Anyway, it's a very cool building, and this is a picture of the room where they vote and debate and such.
I wish I could tell more about my trip, but I am simply too tired to write it all now. I will say, however, that this is an incredible nation originally designed to endure hardship with amazing joy. I want to go back to Scotland. I don't know how to describe how I feel about it, but there's so much more that I want to see and discover about the land, I don't think I'm done there.
Here's a poem that I wrote last week to describe the city. It's rough, but hopefully it will give you at least something of a picture of what is really a beautiful land.
Edinburgh
Gray stone layered on gray stone,
Elegant in its blank, bare beauty.
It had a life once, did it not,
When the gray was as silver fresh off
The forge? But smoke soon smothered
In the name of progress, and builders
Demolished in the name of development.
What's left stands bravely, lovely, darkly,
Defying any who would think it dull, yet
Whispering silently, longing for something
More. In the sound of cars, buses, and rain
I can barely hear the prayer: give me life!
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