for the past few days, I have been enraptured with writing in my new, moleskin journal. That is right, you know, the famous notebook used by such great minds as Van Gogh, Picasso and some other famous people. Thus, I have been basking in the joys of touching pen to paper. When I write in my journal, I am free to express all of my thoughts without the fear of another man, person, beast or thing, reading it. However, I must admit, I get very lazy about 30 minutes into the writing explosion; my script turns to scribbling and incoherent loops and lines. For future study, I am convinced that I should stick to typing, because at least I can read what I am attempting to convey. Yet, when writing with my hands, I can sense my life, the day and even thoughts slow down to a perceptible level of reflection. Often times while typing, I feel as if I am a robot: hitting keys, flailing fingers and rarely taking the time to ponder while the metronome-like clicking of the keys pulsates in my ears.

But for you dear reader, I will type.

Today, I was invited to give my presentation, on American Racism, to the local high school in Policka. Upon walking into the room, I was shocked at the size of the audience: 90-100 people. I thought that I would be prepared. I had spoken before and the presentation wasn't very difficult to remember; however, when I stepped in front of the podium, I was nervous. I tried to rely on some of my wit and a little sarcasm to get the students loose, but it was lost on them. When speaking to a group of foreign students, there is a tangible feeling of misunderstanding. I mean, they know what I am going to speak about, the teachers went over the vocab with them, but it can hardly make for the feeling, the connection that is lost between and audience when you speak differing languages. My biggest worry was not whether they would understand me, but it was whether they could connect to the topic, to the pictures and to my own emotion.

The presentation lasted an hour, and aside from my struggles to relate to the audience, I felt that I did a decent job of presenting the information in clear ways. I hope that the students left the auditorium with thoughts in their mind. I didn't really have answers, all I wanted to do was to challenge their way of thinking about the idea of race and racism. How is race defined? What is racism? What is prejudice? Are Czech people racist? What is a racist, anyways? These are the questions I challenged the students with. Whether they understood is nothing I could control. My only hope, is that they would go home and engage in a little self-reflection.

Many of the students were shy to ask questions: I had left about 30 minutes at the end of the presentation for questions, but I only received 4. This was quite disappointing, as I hoped to spur at least SOME thought. Many of the teachers loved the presentation and told me that they do believe that the students will ask questions in class; they were just too shy to ask them in front of such a large group. I took this as encouragement and hoped it was true.

Upon leaving the room I was greeted by two of my friends, Jitulka and Petra. They both were waiting for me to leave; their faces conveyed deep thought and questioning. They shot off one quick question. And in that moment, I realized that maybe the students were thinking.

I don't know what I want to write, so I am leaving for now. Just thought you would be curious about the latest happening from the heart of Europe!

Winter Joy

I have always had mixed feeling about winter. First off, I dont like being cold. When it is a cold outside I would much rather stay in my warm bed. But I feel that my view of winter has changed. When I was a kid, I'm pretty sure I liked winter. I could build snowmen, going cross country skiing with my family and play in the snow with my brother. Winter meant bundling up in as many layers of clothing as possible, but forgetting to us the bathroom before doing so, wet mittens and socks near the fireplace and hot chocolate. When I was in highschool it ment being late for school because our bus got stuck, learning to drive in the snow, and my hair freezing after swim practice. At college winter ment trying not to slide down the hill to the science building on my butt.

Coming to Policka I heard that the weather was very simular to PA and that the winter would be cold and snowy. It snowed early on in November, but it didn't stay long, which made me sad. I figured that if it was going to be freezing cold there might as well be snow too. We didn't end up getting the snow that I had heard about until after the new year. When Jeremy and I came back from our trip to Budapest we where greeted by a snow covered Policka. The pond infront of the church had froze and kids where iceskating. All of this had happened in the 4 days we were gone. Since then the snow has stayed and I must admit I enjoy it. Not every aspect ofcourse, I still dont like the cold and it takes longer to get everywhere, but in general I really like winter here. Policka is beautiful under a few inches of snow. Everyday Jeremy and I walk to church through the park. Normally there are tons of people around, talking, smoking, hanging out, but now there is hardly anyone and all you see are trees and benches covered in snow. It's like a fairly tale land. I think that my winter joy comes from a number of things First, we have to walk everywhere, which means that I see how beautiful winter is. Secondly, Jeremy and I have gone iceskating on ponds and sledding with our new friends, which is really fun.

Presentation and Youth retreat

The last week has been a whirl wind of activities. We started off the week with our normal classes, mid week Jeremy had a presentation, and we ended the week with a youth retreat and Sunday service given by the confermation class.

Jeremy's presentation, Racism: red, white, black, was a complete success. It was a heavy topic, but Jeremy was finding that people were curious about racism in the US. There were many different ways Jeremy could have given this presentation. He could have talked only about racism aggainst black americans, or he could have talked about the civil rights movement, but he descided to take it a different way. In the US racism is a fluid thing, and historically the people that we racisist aggainst changes every 40 years with whomever,regardless of their skin color, becomes a threat to the culture of the people in power. Most people don't think about all the different groups, so it was good that he showed how the country was racisist toward one group, but only until a different group posed a threat. The presentation was given in English and was translated into Czech. Everyone who came seemed to enjoy it, and we have heard from others who where not there that people told them that they liked it, which is encouraging. 33 people came, ranging from high school students to pensioners. There were a few people we did not know, which was exciting because they has seen our posters. Anyway, it was an hour presentation and afterward a few people asked some really good questions, which means that Jeremy got them thinking not only about racism in the US, but also the racism here, and about what racism really is, and where is comes from.

This weekend we went with the confermation class to Veseli, which was a good time! We played games, ate food, went midnight sledding and planned what the students would do durning the service on Sunday. Saturday morning we were all giving the task of writing a journal entry for two brothers from a story in the the bible. Both where asked to help do work on the farm and the first one said he didnt want to help and then did and the second said he would help and then didn't. The conferments came up with some fun journal entries for each son which revolved around them wanting to sleep or go on a date or to the pub. Jeremy and I also wrote a journal for each son. The fun part is that we tried our best to write it in czech. I think we did well and the kids definatly enjoyed our "funny czech".

new paintings

Neighbor talk.

This morning I had to stay a behind from work and wait for a few men who were coming to inspect the water system in our apartment building. I was told, on three different occasions, that I had to be home from 8 am to 9 am on Wednesday. So, I was there, waiting. 9 o'clock rolled around and I decided that I would wait until 10 after: if no one showed up, then I would be off to work. I got my coat, hat and gloves and stood by the door. When my watch showed 10 minutes, I immediately walked out and down the first flight of stairs leading outdoors. In an instant, I heard our neighbor, Ivan, come out and ask me to stop (Ivan speaks no English). He told me that the men had to run into town to get a part and would back in only 10 minutes. I informed that I had to go to work and that I really had limited time. He asked me again if I would be able to stay for just a little while longer. I agreed and said OK. I am so glad that I did.

Ivan is a great guy. He always is smiling and he will speak to us in Czech and not mind when we don't understand everything he says. I love it. He is always a great man to practice with, because he speaks slowly and genuinely tries to understand our Czech, which I am sure is horribly accented and riddled with horrendous grammatical errors.

I could tell that he felt a little bit sorry that I had to wait longer than was expected of me, so we both started talking. He asked me how I liked Budapest (he was there at the same time we were) and invited me into his apartment. He was very proud of his home and he had ever reason to be. It was much larger then ours and the floors and cabinets were just beautiful; he told me that he built them himself. I asked him about his family and he told me that he has four kids with his wife, who is a physical therapist. We both were throwing questions back and forth; he asked me what city I came from (which he knew) and I wondered how long he had lived in France, since he speaks French; we talked about the school system and I asked him what he study when he was young (geography); he wondered how I viewed these apartments compared to those in the United States; I asked him if he is happy living in the apartment building. Pretty much, I had my first REAL conversation in Czech.

The men eventually came and Ivan sent them to my apartment first, which was very kind of him to do. Aside from the few distractions from the workers, Ivan and I kept up our talking. He told the men that I was from America, but I can understand and speak "wonderful" Czech, which is really not true, but it was nice of him to make me think it. At this point, I knew that I would be leaving for work in a short time, so I took a chance and invited Ivan to the church. I felt that after our little bonding experience, it was the appropriate time to take the next step.

Tomorrow, I am giving a presentation entitled,"Racism in America: red, black, white." The reason why I chose this topic was because of the interest my adults students have in it. Often times in class, the adults will vicariously ask about my feelings on race. They don't want to offend me, but I can tell they are egging for a conversation. So, I felt that I had the right avenue through which to invite Ivan. Hoping that he would find the topic interesting, I gave him the time and the place of the presentation. He seemed very interested and said he would really love to go.

However, there was a second question that was eating away at him and I could tell what it was. He wanted to ask me if I was Christian or not, because the place I told him to go was not in the school or the theater club, but the Evangelical church. I informed him that I was indeed a Christian and I was from the Protestant tradition. Upon hearing this, I played the "cultural-ignorance card" and asked him if he was a Christian as well (this would have been completely inappropriate for another Czech to ask, but being an American, I can get away with some things). He laughed it off and told me that he doesn't believe. He wasn't demeaning at all; in fact, he told me that he really admires a belief in God, except he considers himself a "materialist." I found out, contrary to me preconceived notion of what one was, that a materialist is one who only believe in the material, the physical. I was slightly confused when he said materialist, cause my mind went straight to things: cars, clothes, money, etc. But Ivan told me that in the Czech Republic it is used to denote someone who does not believe in anything he/she cannot see. Consequently, it is too difficult to believe in God, because he can't see, feel, smell or hear him; I found this very interesting. Ivan ended by proclaiming that his gods are health and happiness; things he can see and touch.

I decided to make my leave, feeling very happy about where we ended our conversation. I told him that I hope to see him tomorrow and that I think the presentation would be very interesting for him.

I had finally done it. I had communicated in Czech for almost one hour.

There is something powerful in knowing that I was relating to a man who is completely different from me.

My hope is that we can continue the conversation. Maybe next time, Jamie and I will invite Ivan and his wife over for dinner.

A progression of understanding

Many who have learned a new language tell you that it happens suddenly. Usually, there is a day were it all seems to make sense. The months of constantly hearing the different sounds, the strange pronunciations, the common words and phrases, all come together unexpectedly and you start to understand. I am not really sure that I have hit the point of sudden revelation in my Czech language, but I am pretty positive that slowly, yet surely, my comprehension is rising.

Yet, what came in instant, surprisingly for me, was my change of mindset.Much like learning a new language, adjusting to a new culture can be a long process of pain and confusion, culminated by a sudden release from apprehension and an acceptance, no, appreciation of one's new place in the world. I think that this has happened to me in a very strong way.

It has been almost three weeks since I last posted on this blog. Normally, I get the urge to write about once a week; however, these past two weeks have been full of befuddled clarity, like I couldn't actually think about anything. Maybe it was the lull in responsibility that comes from a two-week Christmas break, or my own inherent laziness in regards to reflection and critical thinking, but I was unable to express myself, nor did I want to tell others how I as feeling. I knew that I wasn't taking time to reflect, and if I take no time to wrestle with my own issues, then what do I really have to say about the circumstances affecting me? You know, the stories that you all want to hear: how life is, what my language is like, who my friends are, where I think my relationships are going....etc. So,

I am writing now and I am happy that I am. I have thought and wrestled with myself and have come out the other side refreshed and excited about my opportunities. When I leave in two years I want to know that I am leaving true friends behind. I want to know that I took chances and lived in the community, as a part of the community. I want to know that I smiled at old ladies and I hiked in Slovakia. I want to know that Jamie and I grew from this experience and that we are stronger as people, not easily shaken or frustrated by situations where we must rely on just ourselves. Yet, to get to this point, I had to leave the Czech Republic.

Jan tells me that Kati had the sudden moment of acceptance when she was at a cottage in January of 2006. For me, the moment came when I went to Budapest. The city was wonderful: there were spas, beautiful buildings, a lot of history, great people (hostel dudes and dudettes) and wonderful food. But, the language was completely confusing. I remember going into a grocery store and not recognizing ANYTHING at all. I needed help, but I really had no idea how to even handle myself. It was so lonely, so disorienting and horribly embarrassing; this feeling had not been near me for a very long time. Many of you might be wondering how this can be, considering I live in a foreign country now. But, I found out, through the experiences in Budapest, that I am no longer living in such a different land anymore.

The Czech Republic is not the same place I stepped into way back in July.Well, the country probably really is the same. The climate is probably similar to what it was in July, the Czechs still use the Krown, the people still can be a little reserved, the flag still has a big blue triangle in it, Prague still is the capital city of college-aged tourists, they still grown wine in Moravia and many cars are still skodas. One thing has changed though; Czechs are the President of the E.U., but this is for a different conversation... Anyways, I guess it is me who has changed. When I stepped off the airplane in Prague, I remember being amazed that Kati could make sense of the mumbling over the loud speaker. It really seemed completely incoherent to me. They were talking quickly and I couldn't tell if they were saying words or just making "shhhe" sounds with their lips; I was convinced it was the later. I loved the cobblestone streets of Prague, and, the fact that the electricity lines that run the public trams gave the city a back-in-the-day look. I was horrified at how the Czech people drive and I remember thinking that the fields and trees look really different. The houses were all covered in a thick layer of concrete and I saw no wood or brick fronts. Today, none of this shocks me.

Back to Budapest, I remember being young and my mom telling me that one doesn't know what they have until they lose it. I have since grown to hear this phrase repeated countless ways and in thousands of circumstances. Often times I associated the statement with a sudden disappearance of material prosperity or the loss of friends and family, but I never imagined that I would experience the weight of its truth in the realm of cultural comfort, yet, that is exactly what happened, when I took the train and headed back toward Brno.

Once we crossed the border I looked out the window and saw a sign indicating the first town in Slovakia. I had never heard of it before, but the letters suddenly didn't seem so foreign to me. As you know, Czech and Slovak are written with accents above the letters, which gives the language an intimidating look upon first seeing it, but in reality, it makes pronunciation much easier. I never thought that these letters would be a sign of comfort to me, but in Slovakia it was: I was finally done with the impossible spelling and mile-long words of Hungarian. Then, over the intercom, the train conductor greeted us all to Slovakia and told us that we were going to Brno; I understood him and it was in Slovak (Czech and Slovak, at the basic level, are mutually intelligible languages).

Suddenly, I had a vague sense of home, of belonging and understanding. I never realized how much I really rely on my basic knowledge of Czech to get me through the everyday social interactions like going to the store or asking for what I need in the restaurant, but it came full force when it was taken from me. There are still many things that I am continuing to learn about this culture that are very different and there is still a yearning for a deeper relationship with people. When speaking another language you can only express yourself so far; there is always an element of you that is unable to fully be realized, and I do miss this. However, for now, the Czech Republic is becoming my new home, even if it is for only two years. Two years is not a life time, but it is long enough to go through the emotional ups and downs of being separated from normalcy, placed in the new and coming out on the other side mixed with a sense of both, together. I said a couple of weeks ago that the longer I am here, the more Czech I become. It really is true.

I am so excited to see what next year will bring when my Czech is much better. What friendships will I make? How will the Czech people be defined in my eyes? How will they have changed me?

My perceptions are changing. For the past three months I have been in a mentality of criticism. Now, I feel myself coming out on the other side with new energy and a deeper understanding of what it means to cherish the 'now.' I don't really want to focus on where I was last year or where I will be in two years; I want to appreciate and get to know the people who are around me. I want to see the culture and know that while it might not make sense, it is how they live.

I think part of what I need to work harder on is becoming more a part of the church community that IS here. Most of the people that I talk to are young and often times they are not regulars to our church services. I would even say that many are not Christian (not that this lessens my admiration and love for them as people). But, there are a group of older Czechs here who come EVERY Sunday rain, snow or heat. I see them walking to church when it is -10 and when it was 70. I love their faith and their determination. They might seem like a closed off bunch, but I really want to relate and speak with them. I want to learn Czech, not to glorify myself, but to relate to the older people. I'm sure that they can teach me so much.

Just this past Monday, I made my first attempt at speaking with some of the old ladies in the congregation. They were upstairs washing the tea cups and dishes and chatting amongst themselves. When I was about to leave, I found myself doing something that I haven't done since I arrived: I approached them and said good bye. They all gave me a HUGE smile and told me to have a nice night. I tried to shake all of their hands, but one of them had wet rubber gloves on. She smiled and looked a little confused, until she offered me her forearm. I grabbed it and shook her whole arm up and down. It might have been a little bit silly, but they all start laughing really hard. I don't know if they know how much their smiles and laughter meant to me that day, but it was the jump I needed.

What community do I belong to? Is it Waynesburg? Is it Pittsburgh? Is it Bellefontaine? Yes, they are all my home, but soon I want to add Policka to the list. I hope I am on my way. My goal next is to ask one of the older women if I can go over to her house and learn how to make her wonderful little "chlebicky." She told me two Sundays ago she would let me wear her pretty apron and even give me a cook’s hat for the job. I think I might take her up on the offer

Happy New Year

It's now 2009 and Jeremy and I have been in Policka for about 5 months (in Europe for 7) and over the last few days I have been thinking about our time here. Christmas was a week and a half ago and there where many times when Jeremy and I felt lonely, homesick, or just a little strange because we were far away from our family and friends in the US. We would walk around town and see people with their families or buying presents for friends and it made me think about home a lot more. What was my family doing? What does my brother want for Christmas? Is our tree up yet and did anyone put up the hideous carousel that plays Christmas music? Did anyone go to my grandma's house and re-arrange "NOEL" so it reads "LEON" or "LONE"? These thoughts saddened me, but I know that I had Jeremy with me and this would be our first Christmas together. The closer we got to Christmas, I noticed that our friends and people from the church would frequently ask us how we were doing and if we miss home and if there was anything they could help with. Many families invited us to have lunch or dinner with them, which was wonderful and made Jeremy and I feel like we also have a family and home here. I can't begin to express how helpful and kind people have been to us, but it has truly been a blessing.

Budapest

After Christmas Jeremy and I decided to take a trip to Budapest, Hungary. It is about 6 hours away from Policka by train and the ride is beautiful. We arrived in Budapest on December 29th and stayed until January 1st. We had heard from people what Budapest was beautiful, and it truly is. There is a river which separates the "Buda" side from the "Pest" side and on each side there where many interesting things. The city is known for its spas, which have been around since the Turks were there, so we went to one. It was the first time either one of us has been to a spa, and it was neat. The one we went to has an outdoor bath, so in the crisp air it looked like a steaming calderon. It was super cold going to and from the outdoor bath, but completely worth it. We also did some sight seeing, both at night and during the day. I think my favorite places were the shoe monument for the Jewish people who were shot into the river during WWII and the Fisherman's Baston, which is an old Turkish castle.

We also went to a small Hungarian restaurant where I had croquettes and goulash soup (mom, it was just like the recipe you have) and Jeremy had chicken with veggies and dumplings (off-the-dish noodles). Our meal was excellent and really reminded me of home. The people we met were wonderful, our hostel was great and the Hungarian language is impossible! I know I can speak for Jeremy also when I say that it was nice to come back to Policka and understand, because for the first time during our time in Europe we encountered a language that was completely foreign. Czech is difficult, but coming here we has a small understanding of what it would sound like. We had never heard Hungarian spoken, so it had no distinct sound, unlike French or German or Czech. So the languange was a little crazy, but it was definatly a fun and much needed adventure.