tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-323016712011-04-21T18:39:48.470-07:00Kosova. North Park. Chicago. Life as an adult.Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.comBlogger221100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-12474376550781006012007-08-18T20:24:00.001-07:002007-08-18T20:24:43.599-07:00<br /> <div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><object height='325' width='400'><param value='http://media.imeem.com/v/Z2K2fGr8tY/aus=false/pv=2' name='movie'/><param value='true' name='allowFullScreen'/><embed allowFullScreen='true' height='325' width='400' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://media.imeem.com/v/Z2K2fGr8tY/aus=false/pv=2'/></object><br/><br/>This is my attempt at Jon McLaughlin's "Beautiful Disaster." --- It's not perfect, but I'm happy with it, and would like to share it with ya'll.</div><br /> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-1247437655078100601?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-78252780742121171702007-03-30T14:01:00.000-07:002007-03-30T14:03:19.457-07:00well, it sure has been a while. Here are some thoughts of mine:<br /><br />Sometimes I feel as if I'm in waiting.<br /><br />This year, there were three instances where friends of mine sort of 'drifted' away and I thence found myself sitting and waiting. Not purusing. Not moving on. Not mourning. Not questioning. Not expecting anything. Rather, just waiting - almost *knowing* that they'd be back. Now, one of these so-called 'drifts' lasted a couple of days (which makes it seemingly insignificant in normal circumstances, but I've included it as it supports the forthcoming metaphore/lesson), another a number of months (5ish), and another half of a semester. I'm happy to say that all three relationships have been reconciled - including (when necessary) apologies, recognition of mistakes, and forgiveness from both parties. I could go on, but to avoid giving you the impression that these were awfully dramatic circumstances (as that's not necessarily the case), I'll compress my main point to this: as these relationships have blossomed over the past few weeks, one idea hit me. hard.<br /><br />"Peter, what if God is the one WAITING on you?" God - Not purusing. Not moving on. Not mourning. Not questioning. Not expecting anything. Just, waiting - *knowing* that [I'd] be back.<br /><br />The Bible instructs US numerous times to WAIT for the Lord. "Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD." - Psalms 27:14, for example. I find my contrary application to be a helpful emphasis on the idea that I may, admittedly, be 'drifting' away, and that He is working in and waiting for me. I think that's the idea a number of people have been trying to imply and communicate to me as I live my college life without the influence of a small group, with less church/spiritual support than before, without daily devotions, without a *yearning* to really come closer to him and grow in my relationship...<br /><br />I think it's high time that changed.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-7825278074212117170?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-9867410266507521972007-01-04T07:38:00.000-08:002007-01-04T08:01:20.849-08:00I've never really been a reader, perse. Though, as curiosity, boredom, and bargain-pressure may have it, I purchased four books at Urbana. I have a slight fear in the back of my mind that I will lose my motivation after one or two, and not start or finish the others for quite some time (as I foresee little time in college for such ventures). I've listed them in the order I inted to read them. I'm almost halfway through "Reimaging Evangelism" by Rick Richardson. It's a good, solid read. The authors gives insight into newer, fresher ways to evangelize to the emerging world (ie, postmoderns). Much of what he's said I've heard in church from Greg and others, but its nice to have a refreshing exposure to it again.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ivpress.com/img/book/3342.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 230px;" src="http://www.ivpress.com/img/book/3342.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ivpress.com/img/book/2254.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 225px;" src="http://www.ivpress.com/img/book/2254.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ivpress.com/img/book/1943.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 149px; height: 203px;" src="http://www.ivpress.com/img/book/1943.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ivpress.com/img/book/3389.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 226px;" src="http://www.ivpress.com/img/book/3389.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />But of course, four books weren't enough. I was talking to my friend Joe on the phone once during Urbana. He was expressing great joy in a book he was reading entitled "Velvet Elvis." The name alone intrigued me, and I just so coincidentally found a number of copies of this book on sale at BORDERS for $3.99. I bought one. Now here's the deal. I hardly ever, and I mean ever, read a book somebody has recommended to me. Not because I don't trust their taste in books, or becasue I don't care - I just have never been much of a reader. I anticipate enjoying the aforementioned books, and will probably want to recommend at least some of them to others. If my recommendation recipients don't wish to read the books, no offense taken because I never read your recommendations either. Maybe "Velvet Elvis" will help change this flaw of judgement in me. The complete title is, "Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith." I read the intro, and it was intriguing. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ec2.images-amazon.com/images/P/0310273080.01._SS500_SCLZZZZZZZ_V33711798_.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 288px;" src="http://ec2.images-amazon.com/images/P/0310273080.01._SS500_SCLZZZZZZZ_V33711798_.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-986741026650752197?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-59170545835620549392006-12-02T11:20:00.000-08:002006-12-02T09:27:24.114-08:00Gee, Peter, its been a while...That it has. As I've tried to rid the "here's what happened today" style from my writing arsenal, I intend not for this to be an 'update' entry, but rather a post describing, vividly, my seemingly unique and unprecedented mindset this past few weeks. Truth be told, I found myself significantly distracted in that time, for a number of reasons - generally speaking, the most silly and teenage-boy-driven ridiculous reasons at that - but, they were distractions that I had to deal with nonetheless. Someday, I will write about my evolving thoughts on dating, courtship, marriage, and the like, but that will not be today. Hopefully, though, you can understand that I was relatively enamoured by a wonderful girl and had to deal with those strong emotions regardless of the fact that dating/going out is simply out of the question at my current stage of life. As I tend to be a clear communicator, the fact that I just plainly *could not* communicate [for complicated reasons not to be discussed here] these feelings to this person, made life difficult. So there I was, hanging out with a bunch of great people, but frustrated with my situation and my goal of handling it in the most mature, responsible, and sensible way possible. As my mental rollercoaster proceeded, I communicated my circumstances to several close friends, siblings, and parents, and felt somewhat more relieved. Laurel, bless her heart, recognized what the heart of my issue was [no pun intended] and that is, "ah, the burden of a live thriving conscience." It truly is a burden. I suppose I *could* be like the typically high-school/college-aged guy and pursue women like they're candy, hardly respect their own emotionally stability as I only monitor mine, never clearly communicate anything and only leave them guessing, questionable, concerned, etc.. - but, I <span style="font-style: italic;">can't. </span>It's seriously, not possible for me to do anything stupid like that. If I ever contemplate it [which hardly happens in its own regard], my reasoning and thought process quickly eliminates the thought. It's great, but it is a burden, and its a burden which I'm proud to undertake.<br /><br />So, a number of things have been gracing my mind lately, that being the most significant. Now, fast forward to now [December 2nd] and allow me to share my current stance. I would like to say that my feelings have, for the most part, passed for this girl. Honestly, its a combination of the factors of, "well, we don't get along super great anymore, I'm about 2nd [or maybe even third nowadays] in line, I found the need to start focusing more on music and academics, and would I really find it suiting to potentially ruin a friendship and cause tension within the setting of our group of friends?" No. I realize these sound initally negative and depressing, but its the conclusion I've reached. Sure, affirmation would've been great, had she just said, "You know Peter, I'm not interested in dating at all this year, but in the future, I could definately see you as a likely guy..." or whatever she might say, then I'd have been encouraged and thrilled. But, this is college, so I'm going to be an adult and move past the silly emotional phase.<br /><br />In a way, I think the burden has lessened - I've felt more at ease this week [which is good, I had a ton of homework], my acne has seemed to be letting up, and I'm just more of a comfortable person. Are this gal and I still friends? absolutely - nothing has happened to cause us to sever our friendship, for which I'm grateful. Many, many times I was tempted to just. tell. her. But, I'm glad I persevered and waited for the feeling to pass rather than acting on the ephemeral emotional impetus.<br /><br />So, thank you everybody who dealt with me as I dealt with my frustration. I know, at times, I wasn't the most pleasant person meandering about, but...patience wins in this case, so thanks.<br />__________________________________________________________________<br /><br />Now, onto less male-mind intensive things. I've totally been into <a href="http://www.pandora.com/">PA<span style="font-style: italic;"></span>NDORA </a>recently. I know I've mentioned it before on this blog, but I seriously recommend everybody try it, and find some new, awesome music that you didn't know existed. I've discovered so many great musicians [not big namers, either] on this site that I really, really enjoy. To name a few: Gabe Dixon Band, Beazly Phillips Band, Daniel Powter, some Ben Folds songs that I hadn't heard before, AJ Croce, Ben Graves, the Cat Empire, and more!<br /><br />I visited St. Louis last weekend for Thanksgiving, it was pleasant. I've had this misgiving in my mind for quite sometime that, if I go to a gathering where many of my high school peers are, that everyone in attendence will simply revert back to their old high-school selves. I believe I am so much past my high school experience, and really do not wish to revert to it, ever. Over break I saw some old friends, of course, but never did a big group thing [I <span style="font-style: italic;">did </span>get invited to one though, so I suppose that's something]. One-on-one hanging out, or small group gatherings of friends who I know are different, more developed individuals would be totally fine and groovy with me, so I hope to take advantage of some of those over my long break. Whoo hoo.<br /><br />My keyboarding professor finally said that I don't have to come to any more classes. I believe I will be taking private piano lessons next semester, too which is a great plus.<br /><br />Well, I wrote a less-than-thrilling paper, and am meeting with my writing advisor shortly. Hopefully, we'll peacefully come to a way to improve it. Thanks for reading!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5zcmA2LTIKQ/RXG3EbXe4HI/AAAAAAAAAAM/NHmOUgCKGW0/s1600-h/snowgazebo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5zcmA2LTIKQ/RXG3EbXe4HI/AAAAAAAAAAM/NHmOUgCKGW0/s400/snowgazebo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5003981947678941298" border="0" /></a>Here's a sight I was grateful of to enjoy yesterday.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-5917054583562054939?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1162601796002444962006-11-03T16:12:00.000-08:002006-11-13T11:57:40.400-08:00Organization. Some call it an acquired skill, I call it a gift. I feel, also, that organization spans three primary areas: Cleanliness, Hospitality, and Social Endeavors. While various family members, friends from adolescence, music teachers, and others whom crossed paths with me might deny this, I feel that I am, in fact, organizationally gifted. This particular trait was simply waiting to be discovered (unleashed, if you will) and it's on the verge of doing just that. I can recall a number of times in high school where my parents travelled for the weekend and left me with responsibility over the household. While I would often leave and hang out with friends, a yearning for cleanliness always harbored in the back of my mind. When I felt this, I would clean the house (more like straighten up, but the unprecedented effort was still put forth) - just on a random, strangely-conjured whim. In high school, I seldom kept my bedroom clean; it really disgusted my parents and siblings. I hypothesize this: Because I appearantly viewed my room as a more of a sleeping/dressing/stuff-keeping area (I did not spend much time in it as my computer, trumpet, keyboard, and comfortable homework spots were in the basement), it was hardly appealing to keep clean. Contrary to this, the house - the fully-utilized living areas - did seem more important to maintain in presentable condition, for obvious reasons. There was, however, another strong reason for a sparking of the "clean me" impulse...<br /><br />...girls.<br /><br />My parents are gifted with hospitality. For about 4 years we would typically host a family or two for dinner 1-2 Sundays per month; sometimes more, sometimes less, but that's irrelevant. My sister would commonly joke with me, "Peter, you <span style="font-style: italic;">know </span>that we'll be doing the SAME thing when we're their age - it'll be impossible not to!" Organization, then, can also be an inherited gift. Sure, you can say that it's upbring and "training" in a way, but I'll maintain that its a gift - I've seen people without it. Well, hospitality is something I've always enjoyed, and it seems that even more trying circumstances, like hosting a party where several girls are invited, bring out that inner-organizer more. I remember freshman year, around the time of final exams, Jessica and I decided to study geometry together. Not, "study" as so many probably expected, but, actually, study. Because I was so euphoric about this little, mundane, 2-hour long session (which of course felt like eternity, *ahh...*), I spent the better half of the morning and afternoon cleaning the basement and other parts of the house. Now, this wasn't simple straightening-up, this was an all out annihilation of anything unpresentable. I remember chuckling to myself and with my mom, "well, hey, if you ever need the house clean, just let me invite Jessica (or other girls of 'emotional signficance' for lack of a better word) over." I've felt subject to good presentability for quite some time; I blame, but now thank, my sister for this - I've never worn a brown belt with black shoes and pants since. This ideal of presentablity has stuck with me as I've gotten to college, too. My room is, generally speaking, pretty clean; I usually clean it once a week, and even then it's only a bit of putting stuff away. A couple weeks ago when I had peers over for hot chocolate and tea after the soccer game, I came up about ten minutes prior to make everything spic and span. I can't not have a clean room when people, particularly girls, come over. Its part of embracing a servant's heart, and honoring my sisters. When applicable, the occasional mindset of impressing and pleasing the guest(s) may find its way into the equation too, admittedly.<br /><br />So, now onto the area of organization which really inspired this topic: social organization. I was recently admiring my social organization skills after having almost executed the perfect planned outing to the symphony on Wednesday. The lone element that made it imperfect was that one of the group members was about 20 minutes late to the meeting place. Well, the eight of us were then ten minutes late arriving to the Symphony Hall, where we had to stand in the lobby for twenty minutes awaiting the end of the violin concerto before we could be seated. So, since I was so concerned and into the organization that I put into this (with pretty much nobody else) I felt almost violated, and started to assume the sassy, immature mindset of, "um...okay, this is my event and you're being selfish and ruining it for me; they're not even appreciative of all the work I put into making it happen." Yeah, I was pretty much a mentally selfish jerk, so I prayed for a while and just asked God to relieve me from the selfishness and bitterness I was feeling. Well, Ellie is an awesome person and somehow knows whenever I'm feeling like junk for some reason or another and spoke nice encouragement. We finally got to go in, sit down, and right at the end of the first movement of the Brahm's 4th Symphony, I let out a huge, fulfilling sigh of relief. There were other, minute reasons for my feeling crummy, too. But for the most part, they were beautifully alleviated.<br /><br />:-)<br /><br />So, through this event and mental rollercoaster, I learned, once again, the importance of humility. I was a selfish, impatient, and mostly unpleasant chap at the beginning of that night, and could tell my friends weren't that thrilled. But, the music soothed me and I realized my faults of self-centeredness. Funny how that works. After the symphony, we hung out at Starbuck's for quite some time, and I had my first cafe latte - another step down the path of developing a keen taste for coffee.<br /><br />Here are some pictures, courtesy of Mindy:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/group.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/group.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Lizzy, Mindy, Chris, Jason, Joe, Peter, Ellie, Brent<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/happy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/happy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>'<span style="font-size:85%;">Giddy'up</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/pink.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/pink.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Lookin' good in Pink</span><br /><br /></div> ___________________________________________________________________<br />Remember Jim Wallis speaking in chapel (previous post)? Well, I got on TV, briefly.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/peter%20on%20tv.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/peter%20on%20tv.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>It wasn't the most thrilling news story - more disapproval of the republican party - but, certainly neat for North ParkUniversity to be part of the footage.<br /><br />"With guru-like organization skills, ought come humility."<br /><br />haha...what an inherently funny, self-contradicting statement.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-116260179600244496?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1161889075024795772006-10-26T11:55:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:39.781-08:00Yesterday, North Park Played host to Jim Wallis, author and speaker, in our weekly Chapel Service. The event was rather large, including the gospel choir participating in worship as well as a camera crew from ABC's Good Morning America capturing the event. Despite being a uniquely-privilaged attendee of the Republican National Convention in 2004 (which was a great experience, dont' get me wrong), I've found recently that politics generally don't perk my intrigue, especially liberals and conservatives trying to convince me that one's right and the other wrong. Of course, I suppose that's what politics is. Anyway, as Wallis' booming voice rang throughout the walls of Anderson Chapel, I could only get vibes of North Park marinating in the publicity, err potential publicity, it will recieve as a result, rather than really condoning or being concerned about the man's message. They made a big deal about him and I had high expectations, but I suppose that along with the new, independent living styles I've seemed to grasp came new, independent thinking styles, too. I no longer need to adopt "default" opinions of my family or church as I once would. In the same way, I now more clearly understand my freedom to think what I will - In this case, I could sense a genuine dissatisfaction in Jim Wallis' speech.<br /><br />Perhaps I came in with a slightly skeptical bent towards the Christian left, however, I attempted to remain open-minded nonetheless. Janna may have put it best when she simply said, "Yeah, he really didn't make any good points." Jim Wallis has earned credibility, sure, but nothing he said seemed worthwhile and internally motivating. What is Wallis' plan to save the world? Eliminating poverty. And, of course, "[we] are the generation to do it." Hmm, heard that before? I think Jesus told people (or at least implied) to get off their butts and do something about it, too. Maybe even people after him, and for the following 2000 years. Do we need to hear it? Yes, certainly. I definately do not do enough to help the poor and homeless. Does Jim Wallis proactively do anything about it? Beats me. I don't feel like promoting a book, coming on television, manipulating the audience by mentioning then side-stepping emotionally-captivating issues like abortion, and misusing other politically-based rhetoric was an acceptable way of addressing the said issue. I needn't go into more, but I was dissatisfied and dissapointed with his speech. Furthermore, NPU's following responsive prayer where we confessed that we often misaddress important issues in the world such as focusing on abortion and gay-marriage rather than poverty perturbed me as well.<br /><br />Welcome to the world, Peter. I ought to say, that when I say I now have the freedom to think on my own, its moreso a mindset of actually doing it. When within the influence of my parents and church, I was mainly exposed to the conservative right side, and thus believed them by default. Now, I can address the said issues and controversies without that influence, where my opinions are tested. I certainly don't disagree...I'm just communicating that I can come to those conclusions on my own, moreso, now.<br />___________________________________________________________________<br /><br />More "freshman moments." The most notable: I was caught red-handed with a dirty trumpet in my lesson. The following 20 minutes now escalated to the top in the scale of "most humiliating minutes of the year" (though my first dialogue essay critiqued in class is a close second). After Joe worked his magic, I'm playing a new trumpet. Proof? Today in orchestra Dr. Zelle complimented me on a much improved tone with a good sense of senority/superiority during my solo. Go figure...I found myself saying, "Never Again" much like my pal in the previous post.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-116188907502479577?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1161108653186389202006-10-17T11:06:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:39.534-08:00These undaunted words came from a very hungover floormate this afternoon. Appearantly, in the three hours I was away from the room last night, he consumed half a bottle of smirnoff (provided by someone else) and shortly after the Bears' behemoth comeback last night, started running and shouting up and down the hallway, causing quite the stir/entertainment among our peers this morning. When I came back, the guy was out cold. As I was completing my homework assignment at my desk at about 1:30 AM, I start hearing one of the most repugnant and loathsome sounds in the world: a man throwing up in his sleep. It continued off and on for about five minutes; I was half afraid he might suffocate or something, so I yelled at him, poked him with stuff and the guy did. not. budge. After resting all morning, he's come to an admirable conclusion: "Never again." It was his first time, and as the curiosity of a free college freshman may entice, he just wanted to try it. "Never again" he says. As my inner mother is slowly coming out (seperating his red sheets from his white pillow/pillowcase in his laundary load), and we reflect on the previous evening, I find a positive bonding experience in the works.<br /><br />Recent friendship developments have made college seem like threshold week a bit again. I'm hanging out more often with some people I've met only recently, whose company I enjoy very much, and I'm constantly still meeting new people and new scenarios. It keeps life vibrant, I suppose, if nothing else.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">__________________________________________________________________</span><br /><br />Kosova has been on my mind quite a bit recently, here's why.<br />> Sunday afternoon I recieved a long, informational email from Mark and Trish, missionaries whom I worked with this summer.<br /><br />> North Park University has been publicizing multiple short-term mission opportunities all over the world for either winter or spring break.<br /><br />>I've emailed/chatted with some friends from there, and try to be proactive in maintain relationships with both Kosovars and North Americans.<br /><br />>Urbana is coming up, and I'm planning to attend that conference open-minded, hopefully crossing paths with some of the CrossWorld Team Members.<br /><br />> I saw on the Chicago News, of all places, that Nicole Kidman traveled to Kosova earlier this week on UN celebrity ambassodor assignment. I was just excited that people now are hearing more about the region, and that perhaps good things are happening.<br /><br />I now see that the KOSOVA JOURNAL portion of my website has gone off the recent posts list, so you may <a href="http://qajtown.blogspot.com/2006/08/kosova-journal-week-1-29-june-7-july_18.html">access it here</a>, for those of you who are interested in my experiences this summer.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/mentorhissouri.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/mentorhissouri.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Finally, I've discovered two favorable, little-known bands worth noting. The Beazley Phillips Band and The Gabe Dixon Band. Check them out, if you want.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-116110865318638920?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1160276248769718112006-10-07T18:38:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:39.339-08:00Little did I know that coming to college would prompt a bizzare, unforeseen desire to learn ballroom dancing. Thoughts such as these reassure me that North Park [and, accordingly, Chicago] was the right choice over the lackluster/rural Augustana College. So, last night, the four confident and daring remains of the ["what would've been a] large group embarked on a mission to enjoy ourselves and the company of others as we learned and practice basic swing and other dance steps.<br /><br />Chris, Mindy, Janna, and I were those four task-keepers.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/dance3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/dance3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />So I found this great ballroom, <a href="http://www.mayihavethisdance.com">May I have this Dance</a>, online and told Mindy they had swing dancing lessons [Mindy and I practiced swing at the rap-infested homecoming dance]. So, I intended to organize a fairly large group, 5 guys and 5 girls, and go learn swing dancing. Well, this place has a slightly annoying policy in that they do not reveal the dances that will be taught that night in order to encourage people to learn a dance they don't know much about, or review a dance they already know. So I knew going in that we may very well be learning the tango or some obscure dance, but I figured it'd be fun nonetheless. Well, the dances taught that evening were the Waltz and the Hustle - and they were alot of fun!! The community there was highly inter-generational, so I ended up dancing with several women 50 years old +. Even though only 4 of us were able to go, I think that worked out the best, because had there been 8-10 college students there, I could see it being a clear separation of parties, whereas with only four of us, we blended quite nicely. More will go next time, I believe.<br /><br />The real story of the evening, however, is found in the trip, err... the walk, back to North Park. I knew the bus #68 along Northwest Highway ran with wider time-intervals than others, so we just walked down the street towards the Jefferson Park Bus station - the direction the oncoming bus would come pick us up. Well, for two miles we encountered no bus. So we ended up at Foster, and walked eastbound, hoping to pick up the Eastbound 92 bus. Long story short, we had some very unfavorable circumstances and ended up never picking up the bus, thus walking 2 hours at night all the way back to NPU in formal attire [the girls walked barefoot] and in ~ 50 degree weather. It was partially brutal, but good fellowship nonetheless.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/dance6a.jpg"><br /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/dance6a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/dance7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/dance7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/dance5a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/dance5a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/dance1a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/dance1a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Walking back, above. The route which we walked, below. 5.0 Miles according to Yahoo!<br /><br /></div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/longwalk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/longwalk.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>In other news, the first wave of homesickness hit me last night. Actually, pummelled, seems more like it. I got "the feeling." Its the feeling that prompted me, once, in high school to go to blockbuster and pick up anchorman, and schnucks to pick up a pint of Ben and Jerry's chocolate chunk ice cream and just sit in my basement all night endulging in the goods. Its the feeling thatI can almost always pinpoint a reason for [usually having to do with hormones, girls, or the like] even if I never wish to reveal it. However, this feeling is different. I, honestly, cannot pinpoint a reason for it. My relationships are great, school is going fine, I have a satisfying life and reputation here, my finances are decent - nothing seems to bother me right now. But, I felt this unremitting urge to just call my parents and cry. Did I have anything to cry about? No. I just had to. So, we talked for about an hour, and it was really great, relaxing, and personal. My parents cited my feelings as being an overload of summer events which I haven't had the opportunity to catch up from [graduating, kosovo, moving, moving again to college, etc...]. I suppose they're right.<br /><br />I'm going home in 2 weekends, and I strongly look forward to it.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-116027624876971811?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1159746406808430252006-10-01T16:40:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:38.901-08:00...but sometimes I write some pretty silly things. I blame it on genetics - not at all that the writers in my family are bad, rather, we tend to be lovers of words. Sometimes I abuse my love for words, for which I'm very grateful that a writing advisor judged my paper for me before turning it in. I had to laugh that I am actually the author of this....... sentence:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >"</span><span style=""><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:times new roman;">This course of action was decidedly foolish, yet, at times, I fail to amaze even myself and lessened the margin for error even more by implementing my “suave” side into this already complex strategy."</span></span><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Yes, my thoughts exactly. Needless to say, no part of this abhorrent mixture of words survived to the second draft.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span> <span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >See post below, too, if you haven't yet. </span><br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115974640680843025?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1159491369438013872006-09-28T17:19:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:38.657-08:00I find it troubling to concoct a suitable title for this post when so many notable things have occured in the past 24 hours. However, I find it most necessary to make known a warm "thanks" to my home community that is Memorial Presbyterian Church. By way of unsuspected emails, letters, cards, and a care-package, your encouragement and love has meant alot.<br /><br />Now, onto what seriously comes close to the most incredibly amazing three hours of my life:<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Jamie Cullum </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">(w/ special guest Josh Ritter)</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> live in Concert!!!<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/Jamie4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/Jamie4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">My story is consistent, but I just have no words to describe how stellar this guy is. I can't even categorize his music, he's so creative, talented, and ecclectic. I love the fact that he isn't a mainstream radio artist, yet so many people support and follow him; he appeals to many people, the most of whom I'd say are Urban, postmodern, single twentysomethings. I almost as if I were walking into a MPC church service, but once they security-searched me, started ID'ing for drink bracelets, and the loud rock background tracks played, I got over that feeling. While the Wynton Marsalis show was filled with musical genius beyond anybody's imagination, I still feel this show captured my appreciation more for how creative, various, imprompt, and hilarious the guy is (especially when he comes onstage grasping a Heineken and is tipsy for his first couple songs). I would definately go see him again, anytime, and feel this was a worthwhile purchase for $45.<br /><br />However, the musical genius bombardment goes on. North Park University was privelaged to host Christian Lindberg for a trombone masterclass. Now, I'm no trombonist, but why would I ever pass up the opportunity to see one of the <a href="http://www.tarrodi.se/cl/">best trombone players in the world</a> for free? Yes, this was an amazing show; he both played and instructed trombone students.<br /><br />In other news, I hate cold sores.<br /></div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115949136943801387?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1159243587985629982006-09-25T20:32:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:38.437-08:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/HCgents.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/HCgents.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Some Fine Gentlemen. They aren't my best buds, but we get along well.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;">Homecoming was, in essence, pretty lame. It just was. I'd have loved very much to be in St. Louis helping my friend Jason celebrate his marriage and see beloved people. But, I decided that I ought to invest my time and energy into my community here and that was good; I met some new people and got to know others much better by way of certain events.<br /><br />The dance was lame until I started a swing dance to rap music in the corner. That was good and some of my friends and I actually started to have fun. The football game was drenched at about 5 minutes into it. It rained most of the first half and stopped after that. We got owned 25-0 [how embarassing]. I got soaked, and left at halftime to go dry off. Of course, on my way back to the dorm, some friends stopped me to play football with them in the greenspace, in the rain. Of course I couldn't resist so we played. Inevitably, it turned into a mud fight, but it was a blast.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/mud2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/mud2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Above all, however, I believe having my first college performances ever was the highlight. I played three peices with the Jazz Band [which many believe is the best its ever been] at the Friday Night alumni jazz concert and sang with the Gospel Choir in the Sunday Morning service, which was a totally rocking experience.<br /></div> </div><br />I wish Skype worked more consistently and I am certainly excited to see Jamie Cullum in a few days!!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115924358798562998?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1158681195554007312006-09-19T08:41:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:38.264-08:00<div style="text-align: center;"> <div style="text-align: center;"> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/robert%20and%20joel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/robert%20and%20joel.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><a href="http://www.audiri.com/joelschuman">Joel</a>________and_______<a href="http://www.myspace.com/electrohomeband">Robert</a> </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">and <a href="http://www.myspace.com/schamp">I</a> are forming a band. </span><br /></div> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"></span></div> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The story goes... Robert has written several songs, Joel has written several songs, I have kinda-sorta written several songs. Right now our repetoire is including only Robert's stuff because its the most developed and he's ready to go gigging/performing and wanted a backup band. Drums, Bass, and Violin are still up in the air. It's exciting though, and we've got some neat support so far, too. It's also kind of neat that, as Robert is also from St. Louis, I've known him for quite sometime, and we didn't plan this at all, it just...happened. Pretty sweet.<br /><br />Excluding the said choice musical endeavor, I'm currently involved with six music ensembles: Concert Band, Orchestra, Jazz Band, Gospel Choir, Viking Men's Chorus, and Pep Band. Today, I was asked to consider being part of the NPU Brass Ensemble. The goal is a quartet or maybe a quintet. As there is a shortage of availabe/willing trumpet players, the obligatory pressure increases a bit. I still feel I'll have to say 'no' to this one, this year; I'm getting plenty of playing opportunity as it is.<br /><br />Yesterday a particular neighbor of mine tore his ACL in football practice. At 11:00 he stopped by the room to tell me the situation and that he was going to the ER soon. We were talking for a while, and at the conclusion of it all, he said the statement, "Well, maybe this is what I get for being mean to people all the time..." That was intriguing as, for the first 2 weeks, he was blatantly mean to and mocking of me. Others complained of it too. Since then, he's toned down and I've grown accustomed to it, and we're almost even friends now, in a strange way. So, I have a feeling God is working in this situation.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"></span></div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115868119555400731?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1158249793200619912006-09-14T08:36:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:38.086-08:00Music in College is hard. Coming to North Park, I originally expected an under-challening program. Sure, its college music, but its not Eastman or UIC-U. Its a small school with a small program with a number of musically- passionate students (like me) who probably never aspired to Julliard heights, but enjoy what they do, and may or may not go pro with it. Well, I was wrong. My peers here are quite talented. Yesterday at Jazz Band, Mr. Lill cited the trombone section as the best its ever been in 19 years and the trumpet section as equally great as some spectacular ones in earlier years. The music is intense and, to a limited-experienced jazz musician like myself, quite difficult. I'm learning the importance of focus. In high school, little mistakes, misses, and modified articulations were always forgivable or overlooked. That's not the case in college - focusing on every. darn. correct. thing. IS hard.<br /><br />I think that a lot of people from WCA/St. Louis had high expectations for me in college because of how "stand-out" I was in the environments in which I performed. But here, all the music students were like me, or better, in high school. Aside from All-State/All-District, this playing environment is my first challenge in about 3 years. I need it. It's humbling. And its hard. I'm starting to discover if my passion for music is such that I can dedicate my life to it, or if it's such that I can enjoy it for the rest of my life, in my off hours. The verdict is to come. The faculty here are very encouraging and very fun, so that's not a deterrent.<br /><br />I signed up for Fantasy Football. We'll see if this attempt outlasts my attempt of last year; I don't think I even looked at my team. There were only three in the league, so it was a bust to begin with. By the way, <a href="http://www.pandora.com/">PANDORA </a>is pretty darn awesome, and I've known that for a while, but felt compelled to share it with you, the world, now.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115824979320061991?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1157949865392653382006-09-10T21:39:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:37.888-08:00The North Park University Men's Soccer Team really is something to watch. This weekend, I watched as we brutally outplayed Hope College and Calvin College [teams that are both ranked quite highly in the national ratings of NCAA D-III]. The games were immensely intense. Seriously, you would not have known you were watching 2 christian colleges competing; at the end of the Hope game there was a little brawl after both teams knocked the referee down and started kicking the [<span style="font-size:78%;">choice word</span>] out of him. I didn't have to pay for a seat, but if I did, I would've only needed the edge; it was *that* cool.<br /><br />Anyway, this week several peers suggested that I may have over-reacted about the events of Wednesday [after which I felt extremely humbled, recognizing God's sense of humor]. Here's the story:<br /><br />I was quite displeased with the first diagnostic essay I turned in to my dialogue professor. But, because of time restrictions, I had to turn it in and accept the fact that the professor would not find a favorable first impression of my writing. Oh well. So, for a week this sat on my mental backburner, as it bothered me. On Wednesday, the professor returned our essays. Mine had some good suggestions, constructive and encouraging; I was somewhat settled by this. After he handed everyone their own essays, the professor proceeded to hand out another paper to everybody --- MY essay [anonymously labeled]! I was disconcerted beyond belief. I hated this thing, and I knew it was bad, and not truly following the assignment. Well, for the 15 minutes, the class divided into two groups and discussed this paper, pointing out the bad parts and the [few] good parts. It was literally depressing, and I felt it hit hard. I knew it was bad, I knew that it didn't really stay true to the assignment - but I really didn't need everybody else reminding me of that and disagreeing with some of my choice words, structures, etc... One of the worst parts of it was that he re-typed the paper, and made some grammatical errors that were not in my original version.<br /><br />So, I made my frustrations known to many people within the next few days, and they all wanted to assure me that the professor picked my paper because it was probably one of his top papers, and other cliches' of the sort...<br /><br />Later on Wednesday, I got my jazz knowledge/experience handed to me on a big, shiney, silvery platter by my band director as he singled me out in front of the entire band about 5 times for mistakes and mishaps and basically made me look really stupid - the music is hard! Top-level stuff.<br /><br />Aside from the thorn in the side that was Wednesday, life has been pretty acceptable.<br /><br />I've met some great people. Katie, Kassie, Laura, Sharon, and Emily are probably my best girl friends, but there are many wonderful ones here. I've gotten to know Scott, Joel, Robert, Jason, Andrew, Nyenemo, Timothy, Darrin, and Brent quite well, as well.<br /><br />People have been most impressed with my ability to remember names. So have I. Writing them down in my moleskine helped alot - I have 2 pages filled with names of people I met...I really need to update it, but I've surely met more people than I remember.<br /><br />God is good.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115794986539265338?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1157584551280505002006-09-06T16:15:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:37.700-08:00...now I'll be more mindful of what I ask for...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115758455128050500?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1157262976645522102006-09-02T22:27:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:37.499-08:00After a dark, spirit-dampening, and demotivating first 3 class days of rain, God finally brought the sun out, and what a joy it was. On friday, my friends and I bolted out of the Hanson Hall practice rooms as fast as we could (after an amount of practice deemed appropriate) and made haste to the beloved "greenspace" for relaxation, frisbee, and socializing. It was tremendous.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/campus1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/campus1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Hanson Hall/Anderson Chapel</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/campus2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/campus2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Lovely Landscaping<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/campus4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/campus4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Walking Paths<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;">I've met so many people, that it makes me a little bit sad to not be able to hang out or be with all of them at the same time. I'm still finding out where my best fit is in terms of friendship group. Thankfully, I'm quite happy with the people I have met and spent time with thus far.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/katiekassiescott.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/katiekassiescott.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">My friends Kassie, Scott, and Katie. The girls are twins. We have a blast together.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Speaking of blasts, today I spent 8 hours downtown at the Chicago Jazz Festival; it was a wonderfully beautiful day in Chicago. The music was great, the fellowship was great, the frisbee was great. The food was....acceptable. I stayed until the very end to hear Joe Lovano play, and it was so worth it. I can't easily get over how beautiful a day it was; truly a blessing. I probably spent a cumulative time period of 3 hours just laying down in a field, resting - it was so wonderful. I'm learning my way around Chicago much better, too.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/chicago1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/chicago1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/fountain3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/fountain3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">I told you it was a beautiful day in Chicago</span><br /></div> <span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Also, celebrating my 19th with friends, popcorn, and "Office Space" was fun as well. Tommorow, I check out Grace Chicago, for which I'm stoked. Also, Dave Brubeck is playing in the evening, so I might be returning to the Jazz Festival. I'll be sure to bring warm clothes this time.<br /></span></div> </div> </div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115726297664552210?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1156863945782605002006-08-29T07:40:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:37.319-08:00North Park, <p class="MsoNormal">where the verdant spaces on campus make for a homey atmosphere<br />where playing ultimate at 11:30 PM is completely acceptable<br />where the north branch of the Chicago River is brown and gross-looking<br />where the jazz band kicks my butt<o:p></o:p><br />where the 3:1 male to female ratio is highly evident, and highly awesome<br />where the squirrels are fairly personable and friendly<br />where there are so many nice and awesome people on campus, and I get discouraged that I can’t hang out with everybody all the time<br />where I might lose my hookah virginity soon<br />where sirens roll by at least 6 times daily<o:p></o:p><br />where they actually served "cheesburger casserole" last night. I passed.<o:p></o:p><br />where the Sunday night worship time is a genuine experience<o:p></o:p><br />where my sister is coming to visit --- very soon!<o:p></o:p><br />where Jason, a cubs fan who actually likes the cardinals more, lives<o:p></o:p><br />where last night four passionate musicians/songwriters came together and just started writing worship songs for the fun of it.<o:p></o:p><br />where my math class is called "structures and concepts"<o:p></o:p><br />where I spent an hour and a half on an EL to go to a gospel church last sunday, it was fun, but we were so, so late.<o:p></o:p><br />where it rained all day on the first day of classes :-(<o:p></o:p><br />where the campus is 36% minority, a refreshing change to the white-rich-suburban atmosphere of Westminster Christian Academy<o:p></o:p><br />where I co-exist with the surrounding football players in 3 of the closest nearby rooms<o:p></o:p><br />where the only class I have on Tuesday/Thursday is at 8:30 AM<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/npu212sepia.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/npu212sepia.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">I think I like it here.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><br />So, now, I progress to the question on all of your minds: <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />"Peter, what the heck is 'qajtown?'"</span><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is really quite simple, and, as I'm always in the market for a screename that exemplifies creativity, originality, and significance, its brilliant. Because this blog commences with my Kosova experience, I wanted something relevant to Kosova. Because I expected to keep it up to date with college, chicago, and the like, I wanted something relevant to Chicago. So, the albanian word for tea is "qaj" (pronounced, "chai"), and a nickname for chicago is "Chi-town." Since I liked the tea so much there (and brought a ton back with me), I had to honor the name, and lo and behold, we have, "Qajtown."<br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115686394578260500?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1155938374296889012006-08-18T14:59:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:37.158-08:00<span style="font-size:100%;"><b>::DISCLAIMER:: The content of this journal is mostly original, but with minor omissions due to privacy, stupidity, or plain boringness.<br /><br />29 June</b><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >"Mommy, do you think everybody is going to disney world?" - An eager child asks his mother in Lambert Saint Louis International Airport. Well, far from it, actually.<br /><br /></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>30 June</b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Sure, I am being forced to operate between 2 and 5 AM body time, but its been pleasant and lacking complications from Dallas-Fort Worth to London Gatwick [DFW -> LGW]. I sat next to an elderly, kindly gentleman named, "Harvey." I don't know if he snored or not because the Lunesta knocked me out for four straight hours. I totally the dig the Britishness - the accents, expressions, fashion. Once again, my inner anglophile is coming out. LGW likes to a wait a while before revealing the assigned gate for one's flight. I anticipated anxiously, paced, shopped, read. Only to find that the meager 5-minute intervals brought no remedy to the constant departure monitor notifcation:</span></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pristina - BA 2880 - Please Wait</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/106.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/106.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >My departing gate at London-Gatwick.<br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Eventually my instructions came. My first notion of uncertainty [aka American Ignorance] came with the currency exchange. *Just in case* I acquired 15 euros in exchange for $25. I don't know if they took advantage of my ignorance or not. Later, I was charged $5.32 for a drink at Starbucks. Sheesh. I had a little scare at the baggage claim in Pristina but finally it came.<br /><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><span style="">[About the American Team] Everybody else's outgoingness and overwhelming super, wide-smiled, "get-to-know-you-right-away" personalities make up for my "quasi-stand back, smile, and casually wait to engage the conversation" personality.</span></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><span style=""><br />My first encounter with my host family: They welcomed us and moved us to a cooler part of the house. Pajazit, the father, sat down across the coffee table, and offered us cigarettes and carbonated water. And then, the COFFEE. After adding sugar, it was tolerable, I guess. Maybe even better than tolerable. I even recall thinking, "gee, this stuff for a month might not be that bad." </span></span><span style=""><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></span></div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style=""><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >My housemates:<br />Josh [my roommate]: From PA<br />Chae [Korean]: From Houston, TX</span></span><br /><span style=""><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >David [Older gentleman]: From PA, as well.<br />Both Josh and David are from the Blue Church team. All are nice fellas. We had an excellent first dinner together. Seeing Mark and Trish has been lovely. I like the culture here, but still have no idea what the names of my hosts are.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><b>1 July </b><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><br />Went on a prayer walk today. It was personally revealing to see how much scri</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >pture some people can so simply and automatically recite during prayer; a tendency I haven'</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >t assumed as of yet. During the morning we had specific Lypjan orientation. Later in the day, we had c</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >amp orientation, instruction, and preparation. After our meeting and Better Life Center [BLC] prayer wal</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >k, I helped with decorations for the set. We painted lots of Island Scenery [rainbows, clouds, sun] and t</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >aped it up to the netting in the gym. Dinner was excellent, I checked email, and got to know some peop</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >le better. We hung out at Ciao's - a coffeeshop and local hangout. The World Cup is pretty popular her</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >e, so when all else conversation fails, talking about futbol is usually an acceptable last reso</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >rt. I won a bet with Bonita since France beat Brazil [I didn't think they would either], and got a </span>free coffee and ice-cream as a result. :-)<br /></p> <div style="text-align: left;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/set.4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/set.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" > Josh and Sam playing in front of the newly-constructed Island [skit stage].<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b face="trebuchet ms">2 July<br /><br /></b></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Sunday! The worship service this morning was pleasant. We sang, prayed, and Mark preached about being obstinate and stubborn in sharing our faith. During free time, we assembled the ancient ARMY tents, I helped Kerry finish lining the point board, and hung out at the center. At night, Jeff and Deb had POTC:CBP set up at Ciao's to watch on the big screen, but my housemates and I left early to rest at home. Since we returned considerably early, we got some serious bonding time with my host family. I played trumpet for them, a bit. It wasn't that most enjoyable of functional instrument, but I think they appreciated the effort. Next, they offered me a beer. I gladly accepted. Skopsko is the name of the Kosovar beer [which I later found out was Macedonian.] During this time, I finally learned the family's names [they wrote them down] and listened as Leonita eagerly taught me shqip words for my belongings on the table [my light, watch, lighter, beer, etc...] and a number of pictures in a school book of hers. The power went out tonight, so I washed my hair in a flashlight-illuminated bathroom. I slept great.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: left; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/tent.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/tent.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Assembling the ancient ARMY tents;<br />Rumor has it they date back to the Korean War!<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms" style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><b>3 July </b><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></p> <span style=""><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The first day of camp! Kids were excited, and overwhelmingly cooperative; I was impressed. It rained today which somewhat dampened the joyous spirits. My kids are great. Since none spoke English, we had somewhat awkward/silent beginnings. Though, their efforts are respectable. My kids are: Donika, Gresa, Labinota, Albrim, and Jeton. Tania and Joanne had the other two teams which comprised our group: the Blue Circles. The kids really are adorable. I helped with the afternoon game time which was so much fun. We played "Blob" and other run-around games. I was again impressed with the children's cooperation, as many of them were kids who were unable to register for camp due to number restrictions.<br /><br /></span></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/kids.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/kids.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My Kids [1st Camp]: Jeton, Albrim, Labinota, Gresa/Diellza, and Donika<br /><br /></span></span> <div style="text-align: left;"> <div style="text-align: left;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>4 July</b><br /><br />Happy Independence Day! Today, I went on my first family visit. Amanda, Dan, Agron [the translator], and I went to Albrim's house. As this was my first visit, ever, so I was naturally nervous. Well, we showed up and neither of his parents are home, only a cousin and his aunt. So, the beginning was a little awkward, but soon the aunt left and only albrim, his little sister, and their cousin [a 14 year old girl who we all seriously thought was 20] remained. So, Agron helped the conversation, but it was really just a very youthful visit - talking about her, me, Dan, Albrim, lots of jokes and humor, and it turned out to be a very comfortable and fun visit. I was nervous at the beginning, but I think it came together nicely.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/albrimshorn.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/albrimshorn.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >My trumpet proved to be a unique way of entertaining or intriguing</span><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><br />Kosovars, both young and old. This is Albrim, at his visit.</span><u1:p></u1:p></span><o:p></o:p> </div> </div> <span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--> <!--[endif]--></span> <p class="MsoNormal" face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><b>5 June</b><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">Today was the third day of camp. Things are running more smoothely and naturally now. We started learning about shapes today, and sang the "shape song" which I helped Bonita, Amanda, and Dorinda write to the tune of "I've got Rhythm." The kids dig it. Today was filled with exciting experiences. The first two were my visits. For my first visit, I accompanied Tania and Daniella [the translator] to the Serbian part of town to visit Miljana. Svetlana, her best friend, accompanied us. This was a very enjoyable visit because the two girls are absolutely adorable. Svetlana is the more outgoing of the two, so she kept trying to correct my pronunciation of "Miljana" and her persistance [along with my errant attempts] was really hilarious. The girls pulled an english book out from their school, and showed off their English. It was very good, and in class they are shyer because they're Serbian. It's sad, because both are extremely bright.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/hothands.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/hothands.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Svetlana and Miljana (from Tania's group) are pretty much the most<br />adorable girls (they're Serbian) in Kosova. Here, we are playing "Hot Hands"</span><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">After the Serbian visit, I went back to the center and met Amanda and Vjollca to visit Donika. Donika has had a crush on me since day 1, and each day seemed to make it more evident. Anyway, the visit to her house was alot of fun, especially with Vjollca. Since she was sure that the family couldn't understand anything we were saying, she would take the liberty of asking me stuff, and saying "oh, don't worry, I won't translate that" if I said something embarrassingly stupid or something like that. I gave Donika a picture of myself, and she put it in a little photo album of hers. I'm getting more used the visits, and enjoying them more. <u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/donikafamily.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/donikafamily.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-size:100%;">Donika, her family, Amanda, and myself in their apartment. </span><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span> </div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;">The third noteworthy happening from today came this evening. I came back to my host family somewhat early (10:15ish), and decided to sit down with them and chill for a while and finish watching the futbol game. Much to my suprise, they were just about to serve dinner. So, they quickly invited me to join them; I did. Well, the night before David told me about a meal he got to have with them and said it was terrific, though he warned me about the pepper and cheese dip, it's spicy. He said there were some green peppers that weren't hot which were also served. Well, I tried the dip, as he warned, it had a significant bite, but was doable. So, I pointed to the peppers, and asked if they were hot. I mean, C'mon, I'm a Schamp, we write the definition for hot stuff. They said, "No, no, no, no, no, no...not hot not hot" So, I took a bite out of one.<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;">*ouch*<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></p> <span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >For 15 minutes I suffered, downing 8 glasses of water, stuffing gigantic chunks of bread in my mouth, panting, sweating, and trying desperately to make my lips and tongue stop stinging - it was the hottest thing I'd ever eaten. [Later, Trish told me that they probably understood "hot" in terms of temperature, not in terms of spicy - it was cooked, but cold.] The bright side? I got to three more Albanian words: Speci [pepper], Diex [sp? hot, spicy], and nxehte [hot, temperature.]<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/culprit.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/culprit.2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">This would be the culprit.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;"> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>6 July<br /><br /></b>No entry today :-(<br /><br />But here are some pictures:<br /></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/beer.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/beer.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Skopsko, my first beer. I later found out CrossWorld frowns upon the<br />consumption of alcohol on the field. So, it was my last as well - for now.</span><o:p></o:p></p> </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/olluriclan.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/olluriclan.2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Here is the Olluri family, along with my housemates: Josh, Chae, and David.<br />Ardian, Illirian, and Leonita are the three children. Leonita was a camper the first week.</span><o:p></o:p> </div> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/milanxhevat.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/milanxhevat.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:10;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Here's Milan and Xhevat, two of the BLC staff members.<br />They're cool fellas, I enjoyed chatting with them, playing basketball with them, and the like.</span><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><b>7 July</b><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">I am realizing more and more sensitively my own sin and lack of Christian understanding and "procedure" for lack of a better word [really, I have no better word]. Praying with Sam today before camp was encouraging and inspiring. Ought I feeling like praying needs to be a performance though? No, but I do need it. Today was rougher than the others - I think that is because everyone is tired. We lack patience, and let our goal of Serbian/Albanian unity sort of overtake the main point of letting the kids have fun. It’s funny that after a strong 20-minute prayer time, I have a bad day [in camp]. What made it more difficult? Miscommunication with other leaders, rowdy kids, and my visit. Stress: Gresa has now rescheduled for a 3rd time, now we need to do a visit on Tuesday and that urks me. I really love hearing other team members talk about God as their intimate friend - a level I am still hesitant to openly share or talk about. I DO think it makes the stronger though and that I would grow in strength from it. And yes, I need the strength - lust is catching up with me - lots of beautiful people here. I need to be mindful of how I interact with [a certain girl], a fairly attractive girl. I can't be the subject of judgement based on my actions, nor should I be the cause of a "sticky" situation. God, give me the strength to resist the temptation of the evil one and to grasp to your teachings of love and faithfulness to your commandments.<br />One bright note from today was my visit with Jeff and Deb. I chilled alot with Jeff, looked at pictures, talked about missions, his marriage [how it began...its a cool story - they've been friends since they were 3!] and other stuff of interest. An hour and a half passed very quickly. After supper and bombi at Ciao's, I went to the Edwards' apartment and called Dad via Skype. We talked for 12 minutes, it was a pleasant conversation and good to hear his voice. I conveniently interrupted him from a meeting. No basketball tonight as originally planned. Sad.<br />I absolutely ADORE our group hymnsings - even just one or two. For a group of musically laypeople, they are a lot for fun to harmonize with. I love my team. Everyone is inclusive and really great. Thanks, God.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/PICT2025.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/PICT2025.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">The row of apartment buildings that line the walking street. Jeff and Deb's building is<br />front and center, right above Ciao's, which is the shop with the blue-ish awning.</span> <o:p></o:p></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/craftclass.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/craftclass.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Here's an example of Craft Class. Tyli [Natyra] led it, mostly in English.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">We had to utilize a locker room becaus that was the only available room with enough space.<br /></span></div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" > </span></div> </div> </div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115593837429688901?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1155938313395223692006-08-18T14:58:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:36.943-08:00<b><br />8 July</b><o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">Today went much better. I shared my concern(s) of yesterday with the group, and Bonita prayed for me. Later, Dan and Dave prayed with me and we all honestly admitted our struggles and concerns - and it felt great to just get them "out there" as it were and to understand these men as my brothers. My 2nd visit was cancelled today and I had no idea what to do, so I went to the BLC to see who was there. Well, I ended up talking wtih Milan, a serbian transator on staff at the center. Well, we talked for about 2 hours about all kinds of stuff: Americans, American traditions, girls (showed him pics of JSB), dating, and eventually led to me throwing in some solid Christian beliefs into the conversation here and there. Xhevat also came in and added to it. Even though Milan seemed to pretty concretely claim and hold true to his Serbian Orthodox beliefs, I was still encouraged by the fact that I was able to open my mouth a little more and practice talking about God more. Later, at debrief [with the blue church...long story] I shared the same thing.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><b>9 July</b><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">Sunday! Worship this morning was splendid - good 'sermon' by Bob, the assistant pastor at the Blue church. The singing was, once again, great. After that, Sam, Dan, Kerry, and I went to Roma's for lunch. This was borderline dissapointing because the restaurant wasn't serving any of our first choices that day [even though they were on the menu.] So, we all had to order something else and being limited in time, I order the most basic, smallest cheese pizza - it wasn't that great. So, after lunch we boarded the Kombis and went to the HUGE cave about 15 minutes away. The cave was pretty interesting and I enjoyed the walk through it. My headlamped helped when the electricity went out in the cave [much to the dismay of those who had made fun of me for wearing it.] Once we were back in Lipjan, I took a knap, listened to music, hung out with the family, and taught the kids<b> </b>"go fish." They don't *really* get it, but I tink they that they were happy to have learned it. Later, I went to dinner with David and, having delicious food, got to know him better. David is a very neat guy, poor, artsy; we share a love for creative words, musicals, the occasional romantic comedy, and cheap humor. He also has a daughter whom he talks about often. He's the first man I've met who carries a single vanilla folder with him everywhere. the folder contains poetry, songs, and essays - some that he loves, some that he's written, some that his daughter has written. He has a knack for recognizing brilliant style when I overlook it. He has recommended the movie, "I went up a hill and came down a mountain." I hope to see it sometime when I return, before NPU, in August.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">I wish I knew where my blue pen is...<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/cave1.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/cave1.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't remember the name of this cave, but golly, was it massive.</span><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/peterdandave.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/peterdandave.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Here are David [middle] and Dan. They're good fellas.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><b>10 July</b><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">After a brief scare of rain in the morning, the day became beautiful,. Almost too hot. Mondays are market days and the town is packed with people from villages all coming to the market to buy or sell. I went three times today. On the 3rd time, with Amanda after our visit, I purhaces some music and Dolce and Gabbana shirt [a trendy European brand.] The visit with Labinota was pleasant and short. Her mom is a tailor and she showed us some of her creations and her shop. After dinner I found little to do, so Mark kindly invited me out for a coffee. Our conversation was honest and real and very encouraging. I guess that, in a way, it could've felt like it was just a team leader taking one of his members out to chat, but this was more than that. But, because I knew Mark well and that I knew his family and that knew me, it was more personally pleasurable. We talked about all kinds of things, and he particularly encouraged me in that I don't have to try to act like or be a "super christian" but rather, to just live a God-pleasing life. I asked him several questions about camp, this and the next one, and I was impressed with his thoughts. I look forward to seeing them [Mark and Trish] more often.<o:p></o:p></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/labinota.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/labinota.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Labinota[right] with a beautiful wedding dress her mother made.<br />Her sister attended camp the second week.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><b>11 July<br /></b><br />Finally, the last day of camp 1. It’s a culmination of hard work and personal relationship-building. I knew this day would be long and busy, and it turned out to be just that. The morning progressed fairly quickly and it was pleasant. My kids were still too dumb to understand the game. Oh well. After lunch, I went back to the center to clean up. It turns out, however, that we played basketball and hung out together for a while. Well, I felt guilty about that, so I went outside to pick up trash on the ground [there was a lot of it.] Two kids joined me, Ervis and Gresa, whom I was visiting later today. They were persistent and very selfless; it was wonderful. When I was finished with that, I went inside and talked with Arbana and Roza a bit. They're neat girls, I hope that they will become believers. Roza wrote a very mature monologue entitled, "why?" - questions about poverty, the world, etc... I was very impressed. They're also pretty cute, shucks. After that, Deb recruited me for bathroom cleaning. Fun. Finally, it was time to go to Gresa's house for a visit. Laura [the translator] and Dan came with me. The first thing I learned was that Gresa's name was actually Diellza - it was a pretty hilarious discussion actually. After that, the visit was quite enjoyable. Also, after Diellza revealed her real name whe was so much crazier and outgoing. Seriously, like a new person. It was neat to see - all this energy bottled up, ready to come out. After dinner, we headed to the BLC for the parents' program. Overall, it went well and was warmly recieved. The only downside was during Mark's "Message" [basically, a light explanation of Chrisitanity] - it was super noisy and I doubt people understood, but there is hope. The noise was satan's manipulative doing, I'm sure. Afterwards, we had our last group togetherness time - we also had a good prayer time. Exhausted, the boy and I came home fairly early to spend time with the Olluri's. <o:p></o:p></p> </div> </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/diellza%27s%20house.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/diellza%27s%20house.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Gresa/Diellza, Laura, and I. There were so</span><span style="font-size:10;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />many family members there, they all kept pouring in.<br /><br />Here's an example of the energy they had [the Albanian National Anthem]:<br /><br /></span></span></div> <embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://smg.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vidmg.photobucket.com/albums/v319/trumpeter_51/PICT2125.flv" height="355" width="430"><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><b>12 July</b><br /><br />The first team left. A number of us went to Prishtina to tour, hang out and see the them off. Prishtina was fairly pleasant, but short-lived at the same time. Hopefully, I can see it again sometime before I go. After Prishstina I found Josh and we hung ouat the Edwards' apartment while we awaited the pizza dinner with language helpers. Once again, I let teenage boy hormones get the best of me and let the fact that I was seperated from the people I wanted to to the most disstract me from the pleasurable company I was sitting by. What a shame. That night I attended an intern meeting. We [I'm not an intern, techincally] were reminded that we need to be mindful of our actions and make the flirtaciousness nill. Other things we discussed, but this obviously hit me the hardest. Josh andI then had a good brotherly discussion. Josh: what a guy! We went home shortly thereafter and got rest. Because I had to get up at 6:40 AM!</p> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/skinder2.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/skinder2.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Me with the Skanderbeg statue in Pristina, as seen on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pristina">Wikipedia</a><br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;"> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">13 July</span><br /><br />SKOPJE!!! Today, Trish led a group of 6 of us to Skopje, the capital of Macedonia. We traveled on the train for 2 hours - I learned the Norwegian game, "idiot." Skopje was much fun. I generally stuck with Kerry, as the women stuck together. We went shopping, a lot. The coffee, as I recall, was <span style="font-style: italic;">much </span>stronger. I finished it nonetheless. The mall was nice, but I enjoyed the "old" part of the city much more. The restaurant Kerry and I ate out was superb - seriously, some of the best chicken that I've had in a long time. Kerr and I enjoyed a hike around the fortress/castle thing and got some sweet shots of the city and different structures. It started to rain as we were walking bacak to the mall and train station - so, we opted for a taxi instead. That night I went to Rozafa's with the interns and enjoyed their pleasant company - it got extremely chilly, as I recall. Bonita challenged me about going to Urbana and being open to long-term ministry. Matthew shared a personal concern of his regarding living in Australia or not. I engaged in a very long, heated chess match with Kerry at the guys' house. I won. :-)<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> </div> </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/skopjecoffee.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/skopjecoffee.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">My coffee in Skopje, Macedonia<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/skopjebridge.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/skopjebridge.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">The Stone Bridge<br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/skopje%20statue.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/skopje%20statue.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Some statue within the "fortess/castle thing"<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/skopjesign.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/skopjesign.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Perhaps evidence of war in the "fortress/castle thing?"<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/tower.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/tower.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">More cool "fortress/castle thing"<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/train.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/train.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Kerry and Trish in the train on the way back to Lypjan. We had a splendid time.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">14 July<br /></span><br />Today I slept in, relaxed, rejuvenated, and spent some more time with my host family - it was bliss! So, we got some lunch somewhere and then had a meeting. I think. Yeah, a review of last camp. I gave a suggestion which was warmly welcomed: the "begin-at-3-make 'em earn-5-points" system [like music competitions]. They liked it and we're using it! Again, Josh and I hung out at the guys' house after our dinner [reunited with Skender, our chef] and I again beat Kerry in chess.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/butterflyandnatural.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/butterflyandnatural.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Natyra and Flutra. By meer appearance, you wouldn't think they're only 17 and 18.<br />Nor would you by their maturiy, peace of mind, and interactions. Wow. </span><br /></div> </div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115593831339522369?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1155938289344777472006-08-18T14:57:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:36.755-08:00<span style="font-weight: bold;">15 July</span><br /><br />Trish's birthday! I surprised her a jazzy rendition of "happy birthday" at breakfast and I really enjoyed it; so did she. Upon completion of breakfast, we made haste to the center for our Lypjan orientation [primarily for the new team]. This was the same as last week, followed by a prayer walk. Even though it was the same, some reiteration was helpful for me. Interestingly enough, we didn't pray during my prayer walk, unsure why. I was with basically the four most influential males in the camp, but we just walked. It was good fellowship and I got to learn more about the city. Mark pointed out significant places and homes of people or in regards to the war [we were in the mosque neighborhood, primarily]. Today I started to get to know some of the new people - as Bonita challenged us to do. The Landmans are benign, sincere, loving people. They're my travel partners on the way home, so I'm looking forward to getting to know them some more. Tiffany is cool, too. Alice, I met on the Skopje trip but she was still recovering from her jetlag, so slept on the train mostly. I haven't gotten to know Heather yet.<br /><br />For lack of a better time, I'll introduce you to some language helpers and translators.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/miftaris.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/miftaris.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Roza and Arbana Miftari. They're great and we got to spend much time together<br />[mostly during afternoon game times] They are, needless to say, beautifully made in God's image.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/elenafitore.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/elenafitore.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Elena and Fitorja [cousins] sitting with Bonita. Elena, Fitorja and I are buds.<br />Elena lives in Switzerland and is pracitcally fluent in four languages. Wow.<br />We all chat/email fairly regularly and its been swell.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/pajtesa.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/pajtesa.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Pajtesa - quite the athlete. She's cool.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:100%;">16 July<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />CHURCH! I had a good time talking with Tiffany this morning and discovering a similar passion for music, singing, and other similarities in life. Terri and her dad, Tim [my housemate whose extremely late arrival proved to be a rude awakening at 12:30 PM] finally joined us after several airplane mishaps. Praise God. Both are genuinely loving people. I'm glad they are here and for the chance to get to know them. This afternoon I did just that, and we had a blast! Xhevat, Agron, Terri, Tiffany, Corisa, and myself all went to cafe Marigona [the 'hip' coffee bar in town] to chill and hang out. We had a good time. After Marigona, we went to Agron's to watch them chop wood and hang out some more. It was lots of fun. Tonight I was supposed to Skype with Mom and Dad, but the power gave out, so I enjoyed some 45-minute chill time with the Edwards, which is, as we all know, always nice. A guys' movie night was also happening but stopped short once again, because of power outage. Lets get some rest for the first camp day, eh? Yes, spoken like a fake canadian [ <-- did I <span style="font-style: italic;">actually </span>write that? Yes... yes I did *rolls eyes*]. Terri is glad we're all together; she feels we compliment each others' personalities really well and ought to get along. She had her concerns before coming [concerns which I shared as well], but was now calmer, more content, and happier.<br /><br />I feel that it is worthwhile noting that Xhevat broke a chair tonight with a futbol and it was priceless! He kicked the ball which hit the chair [the plastic chair was serving as a goal post] and a single leg shot from the chair and punctured the boat, dangling on the inside. It was one of the coolest things I've ever seen. I guess you had to be there. Fortunately, Kerry, Xhevat, Agron, and I all were.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/crowd1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/crowd1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Corissa, Tiffany, Agron and I. Agron and I had shot a modeling picture earlier.<br />Here I just look like a plain idiot. Oh well.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/models.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/models.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Just for grins, here is our modeling pic. Agron actually is a part-time fashion model.<br />I got to see his pictures, they're pretty darn awesome.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/atrifecta.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/atrifecta.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Here's the "trifecta?" We actually never came up with a nickname, but we had fun.<br />Tiffany, way to be front and center. Good work.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">17 July</span><br /></div> <span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><br /></span></div> <span style="font-size:100%;">First day of camp 2. I was worried, I admit, about who my kids would be and how they would act and interact with each other. Well, God made calm my anxiety and the first day I had 5 rather cooperative and tranquil boys - we'll see what happens as the camp progresses. The one somewhat minor and challenging thing is the seeming lack of enthusiasm in the kids <span style="font-style: italic;">and </span>leaders. This was shared in debriefing time, too. I participated in the 2:00 game time, when I may have opted for the market or free/alone time. I did, however, enjoy playing futbol with the 8 boys that showed up. Wait, I recall that the kids were major whiners and complainers. Playing inside with the girls was fun, too. I just rememberd that I ought to mention that all of the Olluris left for Albania on vacation[ save for Ardian, the oldest son], and will be gone until the 26th of July. This makes me both sad and happy. I *was* feeling like I was struggling being kind and gracious to Leonita - she just really frustrated us sometimes. But, I wish Tim would have had the pleassure of the fun [and sometimes strange] interactions with the family. THAT is what makes me somewhat sad.<br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div> <span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/PICT2247.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/PICT2247.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Gentrit, Egzon, Laurent, Endrit, Granit - my boys!</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/at%20ciaos.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/at%20ciaos.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >This picture has no significance to July 17th, its just showing<br />Jeff, Agron, and Faton [Agron's younger bro]<br />at Ciao's - out popular hangout joint. </span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">18 July<br /><br /></span>Camp day 2. Today the boys were still great and Melodye got more kids, so our English class became somewhat more vibrant, which was definately needed. In today's game, goldrush, I stubbed my toe. As the day progressed it felt intensely more painful and so I looked at it - DARK purple. I was limping alot, and it was the most - painful bruise I've ever had, I imagine. So, at Egzon's house [my first visit for the 2nd camp], his mother made an authentic Kosova medical treatment for me: onions mixed with salt. I was initially skeptical, but it really, really helped ease the pain. Joanne Landman, bless her heart, served me my entire dinner. Carolyn, who accompanied me on the visit, felt that it was probably broken. That's a scary thought Well, I hung out a bit with Agron tonight at Ciao's and Starnet [the internet cafe]. I really like this guy. I sincerely wish that he would reconsider his faith and become a believer. I know he's heard the message, it just some more "umph" with it, I think. I may give him my headlamp [because he <span style="font-style: italic;">really </span>likes it] with some verses that talk about light.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/toe.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/toe.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >My toe [pre-treatment].The bluriness bothers me too, get over it.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">19 July<br /></span><br />"Holy, freakin crap"<br /><br />This statement, and about 7 repititions of it summed up our [mine and Josh's] feelings and thoughts about tonight. This conversation was ridiculous. We talked with Besnik and Ramadon, both very kind and calm gentlemen and the two most devout muslims I've met yet. [I recorded the major points of the conversation on a page in the back of my journal, and I will add them here:]<br />Major points in the conversation with Besnik:<br />- Muslims believe the Bible, and acknowledge it to be a holy text. To say you don't believe the Bible is saying you aren't muslim.<br />- Jesus was but a prophet of God, only. Not his son.<br />- Acknowledgement of four ways to make a human:<br />1. Adam -- out of nothing. <span style="font-style: italic;">"Ex Nihilo"</span> as it were.<br /></div> </div> 2. Eve -- out of flesh<br />3. Jesus -- virgin mother<br />4. everyone else -- natural sexual reproduction<br />- Acknowledge miracles<br />- Jesus ascended in the garden of G and never actually died. God made Judas appear like Judas, and Judas was instead crucified.<br />- The Gospel of Barnabus, etc...? gnostic writings which they give credentials to<br />- Whats the difference between Adam and Jesus? God had the same WILL in both creations - unnatural births<br />- In Bible, Jesus tells woman "no, I'm not the messiah' -- this was clearly taken out of context<br />- The Quran is superior to the Bible. So, when it contradicts the Bible, the Quran is given more regard, because the quran is the all-true word of Allah, as reveal to Muhammed sometime in 1300 AD. Muhammed was prophesied by Jesus, appearantly. [I'd have to look up where]<br /><br />Anyway, these were the major points in this most intense religious discussion. We thought/talked about it together for a long time. Josh and I didn't have much opportunity to share our side...which is good, becuase we felt pretty burned, and because it was valuable to hear the other side first. We plan to meet again, and discuss our side more in-depth.<br />My toe has been feeling significantly better today; definately and anser to prayer and an evident act of God. Definately not broken, either. Today I visited Laurent with Amanda and Avdi. This kid is extremely talented and bright. The visit seemed somewhat mediocre, not alot was shared, but it wasn't negative either. I really like Avdi. As we walked back to the center, I got to chat with him some more and it was enjoyable. He's an ambitious fella but also tenderhearted. He teaches English in a secondary school. Him and his three siblings are all teachers - impressive. They have a real heart for Kosova and the future generation.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/surprised.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/surprised.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Here's Teacher Amanda with Laurent in class. She's being "surprised."<br />I was fortunate to be in Amanda's class for both camps. We were quite vibrant,<br />had alot of energy, and had a knack for working off of each others' ideas.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/cups.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/cups.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >The infamous "CUP GAME!" Because my toe was agonizingly painful, I<br />resorted to a less-active means of entertaining the kids - they loved it!<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">20 July<br /><br /></span>Today, I got to experience a wedding. I'll tell ya, I was thoroughly happy to be invited to this event, a way to experience more culture of Kosova. The groom, Seli [spelling?], was a medical student who worked with my dad when he came to Kosova in 2000 - so that is the connection. Anyway, I was told to look forward to great feasts and good dancing, so I did just that. We arrived and Mark and I went to the guys' house, and Trish and Vjollca went to the womens' area. Upon our arrival, we were led to a room in the back where I was the youngest by at least 20 years. Mark engaged in Albanian conversations and I just, sat there. It was pleasant. Everybody stood up shortly thereafter which meant, as I found out, that we had to go pick up the bride. So, oh neat, we all jump in cars, drive across town, honk our horns and go crazy, like all of the preceding wedding processionals I'd observed so far. Simple, right?<br /><br />wrong.<br /><br />Actually, four fully grown men and myself packed into a two-door sports car and drove across the country which took a little less than 2 hours to arrive at the bride's house. It was brutal. The bright side was that my driver spoke English and I got to see some pretty scenery. At the bride's house we were greeted by all the men in her family [the women were again at a seperate location] and proceeded to sit in a circle. Then, different family members distributed wafer cookies, Bitter Lemon Schweppe's soda, and 4 cigarettes. Well, unsure what to do, I just sat there and sipped my soda [it was quite bitter]. A man sitting next to me warned me [in English] that I had to smoke at least one cigarette. When I told him I prefered not to smoke, he laughed and me and said, "I know, but this is the bride's house, you have to play by their rules."<br /><br />So, here I am...frantically figuring out how to improvise lighting the cig, putting it in my mouth, and not smoking it [I knew I'd look like an idiot if I tried to smoke it]. So, this gentleman was holding the lighter out, and just as I was about to smoke it, he pulled back and said...<br /><br />"hahahaha just kidding!!!" Wow, what a way to take advantage of the ignorant American.<br />So, we left the bride's house, drove back to Lypjan, and then the dancing started. We stuck around for a while, and then Trish asked if we were ready to go... this whole time, I was anticipating the wonderful feast I was promised. Now it was 7:30 and the last thing I ate was at 10:00, so I was pretty starving. We went to Golden Day Restaurant and I had a steak, it was wonderful. Appearantly, we were too late, and the men had already eaten. Oh well, a fun experience, but I'd have liked to been without the four+ hours in the car. Brutal.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/PICT2268.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/PICT2268.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Some men dancing together [at the bride's house]<br />I enjoyed dancing, and it wasn't too difficult to pick up.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/PICT2279.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/320/PICT2279.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >A scene from the car ride.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/edwards%20at%20wedding.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/edwards%20at%20wedding.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Mark, Trish, and I at the wedding. Notice the bride in the background - </span><br /> <span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">she had to stand like a statue the entire time, never smiling</span><br /> <span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> [symbolism of sadness for leaving family]<br /></span></span></div> </div> </div> </div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115593828934477747?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1155938254156453652006-08-18T14:54:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:57:36.573-08:00<span style="font-weight: bold;">21 July<br /><br /></span><font><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Today I visited Granit's family with the Valentines, Sam, and Vjollca [our translator]. This was a very enjoyable visit. Granit's grandfather talked the entire time; that's my only complaint. He spoke alot of his 45 years of teaching. Tim knew him from last year and was able to guide the conversation more by asking the right questions. This reminded me of the importance of writing our information down and remembering it for next time you/I visit. I was slightly distracted by the constraints of time - I was supposed to meet Noli and Bonita to go see his parents - but I was confined to my visit as the russian tea [qaj] hadn't finished cooking yet. This made for a fast-paced walked to the center where I found they they had already left, which made me glad. I would not have wanted them to wait for me. The Grandpa was only 68 and his 96-year old mother was still alive. Wow! [He was her primary care-provider].<br /><br /></span> </span><div style="text-align: center;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/valentines.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/valentines.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Here's Tim and Terri Valentine and myself. Tim is just a really cool guy, I got to have<br />a few valuable conversations with him. Same goes for his daughter, Terri, who is my age. We got along quite well.<br /><br /></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>22 July</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font><br /><br />Camp today was tough. I think that most everybody was irritated by something or some kid. Fatos did not show up for the 2nd straight day. Is it wrong to be happy about that? Yes, I think so. I went to the village of Bonulle with Terri to visit her kid Arlind. This was a fairly enjoyable visit. Their 17-year old son looked asian, seriously, and it was fun talking to him. I had little pears at this visit - they were okay; a little crunchy, but okay to eat. I also accompanied Arlind in a little wedding dance; it was foolish, but enjoyable, and they all got a chuckle out of it. I'm actually going to document this as the least-favored coffee of my trip so far. Shh! Don't tell. So, we were supposed to visit Fatos in addition to Arlind, but he wasn't in camp the past two days to tell me he would be out of town. So, shucks. Terri and I went to telnet [the other internet cafe] to kill the extra time and that was swell. Tonight we had small group debriefing. My group was, in fact, quite small - just Tim and me. But, we had a good time talking. He shared a short version of his testimony with me [which is miraculous and incredible] and we talked about his Kosova experiences, and my first one. It was a valuable time.<br /><br />[Anecdote about Tim]<br />I didn't know it was possible for a man to break his collarbone in a hockey game, brush it off, continue the game, drive home, lay down, writhe in pain, finally call a taxi to take him to the hospital, call the taxi an hour later to assure them that it wasn't a joke/prank, get an ER examination, get a small sling, and, to save money, walk home 10 miles at 3 AM in the morning in the winter in Northern New York state. Man, this guy was hardcore.<br /><br />Afterwards, Agron, Xhevat, and I hung out at Agron's place as we watched the 2nd section of "Man on Fire" until the power once again went out. Then we chilled with his family, drank tea, and had more dinner. Well, it was getting late, so I thought I should get home. On our way, we ran into Josh and Tim at Ciao's chatting with Besnik, Noli, and Mentor - another religion discussion! They soon ended because it was getting late, but the best part about this was that after deeply sharing out opposing viewpoints with each other, we're still friends, unoffended. I'm told that not many muslims act in such a way after a discussion of religion. Tonight Josh mentioned that I'm a cool guy and a good roommate, and he was glad things had been working out. That was unexpected and benign of him. Since so much was on our minds [b/c of another deep islam/christianity discussion], we all had trouble going to sleep.<br /><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div 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onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/mentorhissouri.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/mentorhissouri.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >Unfortunately I have no pictures of Besnik, but Mentor [right of me] was part of the discussions,</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >as well as Josh, my roommate. Hissouri [spell?] was a very friendly</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" > Albanian fella whom</span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font> we got to know.<br />He owned a small hardward/repair shop.</span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font><br 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style="font-weight: bold;">23 July</span><font><br /><br />Sunday. If I ever needed Sunday to be a day of rest, I needed it today and man, was it blissful. Church this morning was nice and Mark preached on selections from Ephesians using JENGA as a model - it was unique and memorable. Josh and I, all of a suddden with about five hours to kill after church, went to the cultural center to try to find the piano Noli told me about. It was all locked up unfortunately. So, as to not let our afternoon be of boredom and solidarity, we ventured to the guys' house and on the way i remembered that I had a photo for Svetlana and Miljana and we thought we'd go walking towards their house[s] to see if we could find them. well, as we're only about 200 feet into the road, we see 2 little girls sprinting towards us - its them! They were so thrilled to see us. I had my arms wide open, Svetlana had her arms wide open, just about to ready to embrace and ----- she runs right past me into a Josh. I would've have felt so bad had not Miljana done the same thing, but they did. It was really just hilarious. So, the invited for coffee at Miljana's house [where I had gone on a visit the previous camp] and we went, without a translator. But, they were so thrilled to see us, that it didn't really matter. We played cards, had coffee, and I WAS able to give them my picture. After a little while, we left to go to Svetlana's house which was nearby. So, we had more coffee and really good cookie-type snacks. We stayed there until about 2:30-3:00; it was so much fun. Sanja and Jelena [serbian language helpers] heard we were over there and came by to translate and play cards with us; it was just so great. And, Svetlana took pictures. I realized I only know 4 words in the serbian languague, but golly, can I milk them for all they're worth. Haha. So, we left to go to GOLDEN DAY because we were absolutely starving. So I had about an hour with Josh and a "Kosovare" Pizza [sausage, peppers, cheese - super good]. We discussed some personal family stuff os his - he's been through alot, and once again I fell grateful for the functionality of my family and my strong relationships with my siblings, it truly is a blessing. There is more, but an hour later we found ourselves at the miftari's house, as planned. This was a blast, so much fun. We got there and I greeted the girls, met their brother, and got to talk to Islam, their father, for a very long time. He had a very neat story about coming to America and getting a certificate of study from Johns Hopkins AND evacuating New Orleans 2 days before Katrina struck. Wow, jsut more evidence of God's providential care over lives. Well, I saw how to make flia, a </span><span style="font-style: italic;">delicious</span> food item unique only to Kosova. Its a multi-layered dish of crepe-like layers with a crea/salt filling - and wow. The serving sizes tend to be enormous. They served baklava for dessert. Many people came on this visit as they're a popular family. I was mindful of my interactions, especially with the girls, and I did fairly well - just have fun and enjoy all the company, thats the gist of it. Roza taught me to make qaj [tea] which also prompted me to buy my mini-set, I don't think that I will regret it.<br /><br />All in all, this was the best day in terms of releaxation and rejuvenation. Though, the trip to Skopje is a close, close second.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/1600/cards.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5323/3528/400/cards.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font></span><font><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">24 July<br /><br /></span>Monday. My kids were difficult today and I gave them only 8 points [possible 15]. I guess it comes with the knowledge that, "there IS no way we could win, so why try?" Oh well, we managed. This was also a bummer because Amanda was sick and couldn't teach us; we totally feed off each other and have a BLAST. Today was a little less-vibrant<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br 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bold;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><o:p></o:p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115593825415645365?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32301671.post-1154906184722792642006-08-06T16:10:00.000-07:002006-11-13T11:42:27.604-08:00In anticipation of college, chicago, and the like, I'll first shed light on my superb experience in Kosova during, what I call, "the summer before: transitions and discovery" (Maybe I'll write a book about it someday, who knows?) That is, the summer before college - the summer after highschool. The summer where friends part long distances, where complete freedom and independence are suddenly a short reach, if any, away, and the surreal, uncertain feelings start penetrating the minds and hearts of 18-year olds everywhere.<br /><br />I have been blessed with more of an atypical "summer before" than that of my peers. Sure, people travel. And sure, people go on mission trips. And sure, people move - but, these three experiences have begun to mold and shape my college experience (positively, mind you) in ways, I'd have never predicted and in ways I have not yet recognized or discovered.<br /><br />I journeyed to Kosova, a country/UN protectorate in Eastern Europe, to do mission work with a big team from North America. I kept a fairly-disciplened journal while I was there, and I will contribute selections to this weblog (not the whole thing, obviously, as some is rambling, private, or just blatantly uninteresting). Enjoy!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32301671-115490618472279264?l=qajtown.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Peterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07850451784256922666noreply@blogger.com1