Category Archives: Food and Drink

Somos Juntos – We Are Together

 

“A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” – Oliver Wendell Holmes

I wasn’t sure what to expect when Christmas break arrived. I’d spent the last two months adjusting to living with new people and having a new work schedule and now I was going to be the only volunteer left in a three-bedroom apartment. The apartment felt eerily quiet. At first, I enjoyed dancing around the apartment without having anyone around, but by the third day I started to feel like a mad-woman. Working with the children and Face-Timing my loved ones just wasn’t enough. The idea of Christmas in Barcelona was the only thing keeping me going at that point.

However, the 20th of December lifted my spirits. It was the last day of work but also the day I would sing Christmas songs with the children. When I arrived, I was elated by the presence of all the children and their families. The school was giving out hot chocolate and pastries. There was music playing and a do-it-yourself (DIY) photo booth. I no longer felt unsure of how my Christmas would feel. I’ve never felt more at peace than with the children and their families. It reassured my purpose in life and my intentions within my career, which is to consciously engage and have direct relationships with the groups and individuals I work with.

That day was magical! When the time came to sing Christmas songs with my children, all the teachers and families gathered around us to listen. I grabbed my ukulele, counted to three, and my little ones sang “Feliz Navidad,” and “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” It was the sweetest thing I could have ever experienced. I was close to tears as I watched my class smile and sing along. Their eyes were filled with such love as they looked to me to guidance. It has been such an honor to be a part of their lives. They have made me a better person and I love those children more than I can express.

After we finished, the crowd asked me to do a speech. Oh, my lanta. Ha, I was nervous but I got through it. The teachers then proceeded to ask families from different countries to sing a Christmas song in their language. We were a family, enjoying and respecting each other’s’ cultures; from Spanish, Moroccan, Nigerian, to Gujarati and more. It was the beginning of the best Christmas ever.

On the 23rd of December, I traveled to Barcelona to meet my Second cousin and her husband for the first time. Prior to us meeting, we had only spoken through Facebook. The family resemblance was uncanny. It was comforting to see a familiar face and be around a culture more familiar to my own as a Honduran. They gave me the REAL Spain experience. They lived on the outskirts of Barcelona in Vallirana, Cataluña, Spain. This is the ore country side of Spain, where the pueblos (small towns) are located. I felt lucky to be staying with them because it added depth to my experience and knowledge of Spain. It was without a doubt my favorite part of Spain.

During the first two days, we visited the church La Sagrada Familia and drove around Vallirana. Catalan is the language spoken in this area. When I joined them for the Christmas mass, I could barely understand what was being said. It was definitely not the Spanish I had grown up around. Nevertheless, I was beautiful.

On Christmas day, we drove to Barcelona to join my cousin’s husband’s family for dinner in a hotel. The dinner was superb from start to finish and the family was more than welcoming of my presence. They asked me to play Christmas songs with my ukulele and so I did. Their singing captured the entire hotel floor’s attention. Everyone enjoyed themselves greatly. After dinner, a few of us went off to visit Montjuic, a hill surrounded by a national museum, a castle, and a 5-Star Hotel that hosted for the 1992 Summer Olympics. Only the pictures can truly describe the beauty of it all, but even then, it’s something you have to experience.

My cousins and I spent the next day at Mont Tibidabo, which overlooks Spain and is surround by an Amusement park and a telecommunications tower as well as the famous catholic church Sagrat Cor. The view was breathtaking; and just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, my cousins took be to Montserrat the next day.

Montserrat Mountain is both a natural park and monastery, and home of Our Lady of Montserrat, which is also known as “La Virgen Negra” – The Black Virgen Mary. It was the highest I have ever been on a mountain. It was truly heavenly. I was in the clouds. Again, this was an experience that is better illustrated through photos and 100% better in person. Every day here has been a dream.

December 28th completed my Christmas break. At 10:40 a.m., I ran into the arms of my boyfriend Trevor who in July, decided he wanted to spend New Year’s with me in Spain. I’ve been speechless ever since. Traveling is a beautiful experience but it is much better when you’re surround by people you love. I cannot wait to see how the rest of this break plays out.

Wishing you all a Happy New Year filled with love.

-Rachel B.

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The Privileges of My Life

We may encounter many defeats but we must not be defeated.”  -Maya Angelou

Kudos to the individuals who choose to travel by themselves for six months or even a year. I have been counting my blessings and my privileges during these last two weeks. Traveling is an exciting and life changing experience, but not for the reasons that we romanticized in our society. Spain is beautiful country with breath taking sights all around. There is ancient history is all around me and I am taking it all in. I still can’t believe that I’m even here. But I also can’t believe that I’ve been here for 51 days without my family and friends! Technology has been blessing and a curse for sure! I’m to the point where FaceTime is becoming a nuisance.

I’m a proud emotional human who values the importance of physical touch. I love hugs! I’m not mentioning this to sound sweet, but to point out that something as simple as a hug can be taken for granted. As I mentioned earlier, FaceTime has become a nuisance. I see and talk to my loved ones but what I really need is to be with them. I have realized how privileged I am for the simple fact that I get to go back home to the people I love. Lately, I’ve been thinking about how many families are separated by choice or by force. I think about how many of them will never get to see their loved ones again and how this will shape their lives. Most of all, I think about my mother, my aunts and uncles, and my abuela. I think about the sacrifices that were made just so that they could come to the U.S. and live a better life.

See, my mother immigrated from Honduras to the United States at the age of 26. Her older sister, my Tia Rina, was the main reason my mother was able to come to New York. Tia Rina left Honduras first to find work in the U.S.. My abuela followed and then eventually my mother and her other siblings did as well. Now, my mother is a citizen and lives 30 minutes away from her mother and her siblings. Can you imagine that journey? Can you imagine the struggles that came with it? I’ve heard these stories first hand and I still can’t imagine having to go through that.

This story is my reminder of why I am on this journey. Despite the days when I am overwhelmed by feelings of loneliness, I remember how lucky I am. It hurts to go through struggles but that’s a part of life. I know this. I also know how hard my mother and father worked to provide me with an education that could expose me to greater opportunities than what they had access to when they were younger. Just thinking about them makes me tear up because I am so proud. I am proud of them and I am proud of myself.

I hope when present and future travelers read this they pause and reflect on the value of their trip. The mixed feelings and the struggles are inevitable. It’s all part of the journey. I’m coming to see that the purpose in “traveling with a purpose,” is more about self-growth than it is anything else. Unless someone has partaken in this journey, no one can truly understand the difficulties that come with it. It’s probably one of the most humbling experiences as well. Close your eyes and open your heart. The message will be clearer.

Con cariño,

Rachel

P.S. – The children at work continue to fill my heart with so much love. I’ve been teaching them Christmas songs with Lola, my ukulele, for the last two weeks, preparing them to present it to their families on Thursday! To no surprise, music has been extremely therapeutic for the kids. It’s worked magic on their little hearts. It has helped some calm down after a tantrum and has brought others out of their shyness. Lola has a place in their hearts for sure. I can’t wait to join them in singing Christmas songs this Thursday.

P.S. – Here are some more pictures of Valencia! xoxo

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Expect the Unexpected

*Leaves the U.S. with a week old cold and no medicine.*

Me: I’m fine. It’s just my body re-adjusting to this Northern weather.

*Arrives in Spain with flat mates who are also sick.*

It’s fine. I’ll just clean, eat really healthy, and drink some tea.

*Has Bronchitis during second week in Spain.*

“I’m so tired. I’m dyinnnggggg. I can’t sleep. Ahhhh!”

*Goes to a doctor in Spain – Begins 3rd week in Spain.*

See, I knew it’d pass. (Meanwhile I’m on steroids and antibiotics and two other prescriptions).

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I am overwhelmed at the pace of life right now. On the 19th of November I’ll be on my way to Madrid to take the GRE. A part of me is anxious because I’ve been extremely sick and unproductive these last two weeks (at least in my eyes). Yet, I’ve given my best along the way and the other half of me is a bit more understanding. Nevertheless, I am still trying to jump into a healthy routine and it’s already my 3rd week here. Trying to reach my normal energy level has been a challenge. I can’t wait to finally feel 100%!

Anyways, let me fill you in on my two-week journey thus far.

As my mini-dialogue expressed, I’ve been sick since the week before I left for Spain. This made my departure from the U.S. quite interesting. My flight from Newark, NJ to Charlotte, NC  was just fine. At this point I could deal with my sniffles. However, traveling grew more painful as the day went on. On my eight-hour flight to Madrid, I was lucky enough to have an entire row to myself. Yes, I sprawled out across four seats during the entire flight. I wish my body would have let me fall asleep on that flight, but instead it kept reminding me of how sick I felt. By the time I reached Madrid the next morning, I was EXHAUSTED. Oh, how I wished I could have been in Valencia already. Instead, I spent seven hours in the Madrid airport. The “best” part of it all was getting lost and having to check back in with customs. Ha! I was a walking zombie. I could not even process what was going on. I remember facetiming my boyfriend and tearing up because I was past the point of exhaustion. I did my best to stretch, read, play music, and keep my mind busy. Unfortunately, my immune system said, “Sorry girl. I’m clocking out,” and it did.

I was beyond grateful to have finally reached Valencia, Spain. Sleep was the number one thing on my mind, but it was not the first thing that I was able to do. Instead, I bonded with my flat-mates and fellow volunteers. They have been such a sweet, fun, and lively group of individuals. A few of them are from Germany, one is from Switzerland, another from Poland, and another is from Washington State. I was surprised to find out that I was the oldest in the group. I expected to volunteer with a variety of ages. Instead, they’re all 18 years-old, straight out of high school, ready to drink and party. Then there’s me, your 23-year-old nanny and college graduate, who’s ready for bed by 11:00 p.m. I suppose our priorities are just a tad different, but that’s okay! I’ve enjoyed working and growing with them these past two weeks.

However, in regard to my health, these past two weeks have been a fiasco. The medicine I picked up from the pharmacy was 100% ineffective. My body was not having it but I still tried to stay active during my first week in Spain. From bicycle rides to the beach, to joining the other volunteers on early afternoon excursions, I pushed through it all. I even joined them on Halloween night.

Side note: the night I learned that Valencia parties until 7:00 a.m. Can you imagine my face when I was told this? My jaw dropped and I shook my head. I was used to my own family parties lasting until 3:00 a.m. in the morning, but 7:00 a.m. Excuse me, what? New York City, you are not the only city that never sleeps. I can’t hang and I’m not ashamed!

I digress. Anyways, my cold escalated and turned into bronchitis. I grew miserable.  My energy and moral was low. I was coughing so much that my sweet elderly neighbor Keke knocked on my door to make sure I was okay. I cried. I was so tired of being sick and I missed having my loved ones around. I’ve also been anxious about the GRE and my college applications. My body needed time to relax and I was not giving it what it needed. It took me until the end of my second week here to finally go to the doctors. Four medications later and I’m slowly getting back to feeling like myself again.

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Now, I’m sure  you’re wondering how the volunteer work has been. It’s been an amazing learning experience. In the two weeks I have been here, I have journaled endlessly about all the things I have learned, the things that I’d like to do, and the things I never knew. For example, I came across a video one day discussing the cons about certain volunteer trips. I was a bit disappointed at myself for not thinking twice about the matter.  This was my response after watching the video:

It’s interesting to watch this now that I’m already on my “Travel with a Purpose,” scholarship. I’m glad that I came across this video because it raised a perspective that went unrecognized in my mind. If I’m being honest yes, I feel a built guilty after watching this video. However, I believe that video has added on and changed how I will spend my time here for that same reason. How can I give back in a way that will actually be helpful to the children I work with? That’s the question I’ll be asking myself everyday. If nothing else, I want to be a role model and help these children use their minds and embrace the process of learning and thinking for themselves. I wish I had the money to help the organizations here, but I can’t change their situation at the moment. But I can give them the tools they need to grow. The next couple of months will be filled with learning. I’m still thrilled to have this opportunity but even more thrilled to learn how to be a better advocate for the children here.Volunteer Tourism

The children I work with range from six to seven years old. Majority of them have come from different parts of the world, some from Africa, Pakistan, and South America. In the time that I’ve spent with them so far, I can tell that these children need structure, consistency, and better examples of of how to interact with different cultures work as a team. However, it’s been a challenge for me to maintain order in the class room while the teacher is gone. The children aren’t difficult to be around. What’s been difficult is  trying to tell them to be quiet and sit down when all they want to do is hug, talk, and smile with me. It’s unfortunate that I’ve been sick for the first two weeks, but I am so grateful to have 3 months with these children. Week by week I’ll be learning more and hopefully adding to their activities and helping open their minds. Next week, I’ll be playing the ukulele for them!

Hopefully my blog post improve from here on out now that I am starting to feel better! Enjoy the photos! (If you click on the images they will automatically rotate themselves.) Technology can be weird sometimes.

I love you all.

Xoxo!

Wish me luck on my last week of reviewing for the GRE. Been studying since May (on and off) will I ever feel ready?

 

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Rafiki Florida

September 3rd
I would love just to write a quick post about one of my rafikis, Florida. My first day on the Pediatric Oncology Unit she greeted me with open arms. She is also a nurse at Muhimbili. She’s shared her lunch with me countless times at work

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Ugali, fish, and cabbage

and she has taught me so many Swahili words. Labor Day weekend she invited me to her home. She lives in Kigamboni which you have to take a ferry from Dar to get there. She met me at Muhimbili where we took various buses to finally get to the ferry. It was so amazing to actually see how local people use transportation in Tanzania daily. She lives over an hour from the city but with traffic that can double even triple the commuting time. Public transportation costs about 600 Tanzanian shillings; however, if you were to use a taxi to take you to the island it could be around 25,000 Tanzanian shillings. I had been to Kigamboni before to go to Kipapayo beach in a taxi. But my experience was a lot different this time. I truly got to experience African culture.

When we were in the waiting area to get on the ferry there was honestly probably 700 people. Imagine being in a big enclosed room with no room to move because there isn’t any extra space to move. I had bodies up against me on all sides. I had never been so claustrophobic in my life. There was no AC (which is typical in Dar) but it just made me feel very anxious. Moreover, there were beggars just lying on the ground all around. It was very heartbreaking. A lot of them didn’t have limbs and couldn’t walk. With everyone crammed together you have to be very careful because you can very easily get things stolen. I had my backpack wrapped around the front of me and I was carrying my phone and money in my bra. Once the ferry arrived everyone pushed one another so they could get a good spot on the ferry and not have to stand. It looked like a stampede of ants dispersing everywhere. For such a little lady Florida sure can go fast. I’m like twice the size of her but she is so determined and fierce. Luckily we were able to get a seat on the ferry.
Once we arrived on land we went to the local market and got some onions, tomatoes, and rice. She had already gotten fresh fish before we met up. She wanted us to have lunch before we went to the beach since it’s cheaper to make food at home compared to buying it at the beach. When I asked her how much it was at the beach she said 10,000. Which is about $5 US dollars for food. From the market we had to take another bus to her village. That was about 30 minutes. It was a pleasant walk from her bus stop to her home and all of her neighbors were so kind and friendly.

It’s always so different when people see you here. You literally feel like either you’re a celebrity or you look really funny. Everyone just stares. The children who are brave will come up to you while others may cry because they’ve never seen a mzungu before. Florida had a very comfortable place to live in. Her home was made out of concrete compared to her neighbors who had homes made out of dirt. She didn’t have any electricity or running water. She has two sons, one is 15 and the other is 9, and when they’re back in town from boarding school they stay at her parents. They don’t like staying at her home because they can’t play their video games there since there’s no electricity and they don’t like how dark it gets at night. However, she bought her home a few years ago and she’s saving up for electricity. She said it’s about a million dollars which is around $500 US dollars. She made food for me and it was so eye opening watching her make it. She had a little stove she used that was on the ground.

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This was her stove and the big circular device on the ground was how she went about picking up the pan and taking it off the stove. The big blue container on the right is what she had her clean water in. It wasn’t clean to drink but she cooked and bathed with it.

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You have to mix the rice in here and take out any dirt that does not belong

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The fish that she cooked over the stove

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Meal time!

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We ate rice, fresh fish she got that day, tomatoes, and onions. I told her I would eat like a Tanzanian. They eat with their hands. It was very good! And she made it so fast so we could go to the beach. After we ate we got on another dala dala and then on a piky piky which means motorcycle. They’re a big type of transportation in Tanzania. I was TERRIFIED. I asked her if there was anything else we could use but she said no. I have seen SO many horrific accidents in the ED at Muhimbili that involved motorcycle accidents. I kept having flashbacks of all of those patients. I was in a dress too! So I put the helmet on, plopped my other leg on the opposite side, and grabbed onto the guy in front of me. Just burying my head against his back with tears filling my eyes. I was so scared because there aren’t speed limit laws. However, he didn’t go too fast. I told him to go pole pole which means slow but it’s still fast compared to America. The motorcycles took us to the beach!

We went to South Beach which is a public beach; meaning that I was the only white person there. I purposefully didn’t bring my bathing suit because it brings a lot of unwanted attention. I brought shorts to put on underneath my dress and I was just going to tie my dress with a knot at my hips and go in the water like that. However, Florida insisted I put her bathing suit on. I kept saying it was okay and I wanted to go like this but she insisted I just wear my bra. I had a lace bralette on underneath my dress. She just took the dress off and said go like that. In her mind it was completely normal! A lot of people at the beach will go in their bras rather than a proper bathing suit and the guys will wear their skin tight underwear.
I        was        m o r t i f i e d.
I put my hair down immediately and got in the water as fast as I could so I was covered. It was so funny to me how natural she thought it was and how I practicality felt indecent on the beach even though a bra is practically the same thing as a bathing suit. We swam and swam in the ocean and it was so much fun.
Florida doesn’t know how to swim and I promised her I would teach her. She was doing really well for being a beginner! I was really proud of her. In addition, I’ve finally learned what to say to the guys here! If you tell them hapana which means no, I have a boyfriend, they don’t care. However, if you tell them you have an mchumba (fiancé) or that you’re married they’ll say congratulations and typically leave you alone. So any guy that would come up I would say that. I just kept having to say it over and and over again and eventually they’d swim away. We stayed in the water until the sun went down and Florida asked if I was okay with spending the night with her. My initial gut feeling was that it would be safe and I just thought, when would you ever get to have an authentic experience like this again? So I agreed.
We ended up taking two more piky piky’s and we actually went to her parents home. I got to meet her two sisters and her nephews and nieces, her parents, her son, her grandmother, her mom’s sisters, and family friends. It was absolutely amazing. They welcomed me to dinner and made me a plate. It was rice with potatoes on top. It’s so nice to see how close families are here. Even if you’re not family here you’re still family. I can’t tell you the number of times people call me sister or dada (when means sister in Swahili). People will refer to boys as kakas (which means brother). Countless times at the hospital I’ve seen nurses and doctors call patients mama (mom) or baba (dad). Even on the dala dala people will get up to let an elderly person sit and will say, Mama, and help them to the seat. I asked why they do this and it’s because they have the same respect for one another like a sister, brother, mother, or father. It’s quite lovely and really makes you feel safe for some reason. Tanzanian people are truly loving.
After I got to bond with her family we then took a dala dala to her home which was 30 minutes away. I had never been out that late on a dala dala. It was almost 9 at night. We got dropped off near a market and she insisted on buying me panties and a tooth brush for the night. It was so thoughtful and sweet. After buying it we then took a piky piky to her home. It was pitch black in her home and almost 10 at night. We used our phones for flashlights. She said we need to take a shower since we had salt water on us so she warmed up a bucket of water for me on the stove. She didn’t have a shower but in the bathroom there was a toilet in the ground. I poured the water on myself over the toilet hole in the ground. She let me use a kanga to dry off with and let me use one of her pajamas top.
This experience was so funny and different. I literally slept beside this woman with her pajama top on and the panties she got me. She said a night time prayer in Swahili and prayed how Catholics do. Even though I couldn’t understand everything she was saying it truly touched me. After that she said how even though she didn’t have electricity we could use her phone as a radio. She turned on her little flip phone to the local radio station and put it between us. It was Swahili singing and there was some static. H
owever, she began snoring within 10 minutes and I just laid there w i d e awake. I kept thinking, I’m in the middle of a village right now sleeping next to a lady I’ve known for a week in Africa. Life is too funny. When would that ever happen in America? I was in and out of sleep all throughout the night. We got up at 5:30am on Labor Day so we could head to the hospital. When we brushed our teeth we brushed them outside on her front porch. She also just threw her trash and spoiled food out her front porch. It was a very different way of living and was very eye opening to see. We then took the local transportation to Muhimbili. SO many people use public transportation to commute. It was mind blowing to me! Hundreds of people waiting in line to get on the ferry. There weren’t even enough seats so, so many people just stood by the cars on the ground level.

 

September 9th
Yesterday Florida and I went to Bongoyo! I promised her I would teach her how to swim more. It’s very sad how a lot of the native people in Dar have hardly been to the really nice places of Dar because it’s too expensive. I’ve been to Bongoyo once and it’s such a nice little island but she has never been and she’s lived here her whole life for 40 years! It costs 46,000 (almost $25) for me since I’m not a local and 26,000 ($15) for her. I told her it would be my treat for the day since she treated me last week! It was honestly so much fun! I couldn’t get in the water and swim because of my armpit but it was still very relaxing and fun. I loved just walking the shoreline listening to the seashells role down the sand as the waves came and went. While we were on the boat ride to get to the ferry we met a gentleman who was Portuguese. He was also 22 like me and was there working. He’s doing an internship for his masters program. He’s majoring in economics for undeveloped countries. Which is something that really intrigues me! He spent the whole day with us and it was honestly so much fun!

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Pedro!

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Honestly one of the best meals I have ever had. Florida ate the brain and eyes for me though, haha.

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Such a communal meal. An American, Portugal, and Tanzanian all at one table who hardly know one another. Great conversation.

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Mzuri sana Florida!


Him and Florida talked about football and he helped practice with her swimming since I couldn’t. We had a delicious lunch on the island. Florida taught me how the brain and eyes are one of the best parts of the fish. I trusted her opinion but couldn’t make myself try it. After the beach we got ice cream which was the perfect ending to my last full Saturday in Dar.

It’s just so amazing how God places so many amazing people in your life right when you need them. Florida made my experience in Oncology amazing and I am so blessed to be able to call her a friend. She’s such a strong and sweet woman.

Once Upon a Moroccan Wedding

One of my favorite parts about my job at Feminin Pluriel was the wide variety of students that I got to work with and invest in... Everything from 6 year old beginners to astrophysicists seeking to improve their writing abilities for their PhD dissertations! It was through my work at the center that I met Noureddine, a computer designer in my advanced conversation class. In class, I could always count on Nourredine to have a smile on his face and a profound point to make during discussion. One day after class in late June, I was joking around with my students after a great dialogue about international wedding traditions, saying how it was my dream to go to a Moroccan wedding. Noureddine perked up, and said that he actually had a friend getting married after Ramadan, and if I and the other volunteer wanted to go, he would happily take us along!

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Almost a month later, Demi (the other volunteer) and I found ourselves in complete shock at the overwhelming amount of generosity our dear student showed us in making my dream come true. After spending his whole day with us adventuring together around the city, Noureddine introduced us to his sister and her beautiful family, where Demi and I were quickly named honorary tantes, the French word for aunts, to his sweet niece Amira. After his wonderful brother-in-law picked us up and brought us to their apartment, Noureddine’s lovely sister Kawtar loaned each of us two of her beautiful caftans and helped us get ready for our very first Moroccan wedding! She even helped us prepare our gift for the bride and groom!

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For the first time, Demi and I felt like we were part of a family here, the value of which is simply insurmountable when you have been living far away from home for so long.

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But the story doesn’t end there. At the wedding, a most assuredly exhausted Noureddine introduced us to his friends, took pictures, and kindly watched over our purses as we dove headfirst into one of the most authentic cultural experiences of my life thus far. Fun fact: traditional Moroccan weddings start at 9:00 P.M. and last until about 5:00 A.M. (So yes, we were quite literally dancing all night long.) The bride entered the venue for the first time with her groom at around 11:00 in a beautiful white caftan. The couple would exit and re-enter the space four times, sporting a different ensemble every time. Pictured below you can see the bride in her brilliant blue, yellow, and green caftans, though red is another color often added into the mix. Though each entrance serves a purpose, I thought the most profound was that of the groom’s family, following their third entrance, to present them with wedding gifts. It was so cool to see the whole family have such an outward role in the ongoing ceremony!

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As those of you who know me well will not be surprised to hear, I spent 90% of my time making friends on the dance floor. I was quickly adopted by Noureddine’s friend Houda, and we had a blast dancing together with her other friends! I didn’t even realize how much time had past when it came time to leave! But eventually, Noureddine retrieved Demi and I from the dance floor to go back to his sister’s house, where we slept over after one of the most incredible and surreal nights of my life.

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Ramadan Mubarak!

Last week, I shared my decision to participate in the month-long fast of Ramadan as a means of more fully immersing in my environment abroad. But what does it mean for a non-Muslim to participate in Ramadan? What’s the point? Is it difficult? When (and what) do you eat to stay healthy? But before we get into that, here’s a quick summary of what my typical day during Ramadan looks like:

I wake up around 2:30 AM to share a light breakfast with my fellow fasting volunteers. We snack until around 3:30, when the call to prayer rings out, indicating the sunrise. Some people choose to sleep through the night instead of waking up, but regardless of what one chooses, from sunrise to sunset, we fast. So no food or water from about 3:30 AM until about 7:40 PM. Because the whole country is participating, schedules change universally to allow for extra sleep in the mornings. My class now begins at 10:30 AM and ends at 12:30 PM. I get back to the house around 1:00 PM, and around 1:30 PM I have either Arabic lessons, a lecture, or cooking lessons. (As you can probably imagine, the cooking lessons are admittedly rough!) For me, this is the hardest part of the day. The only scheduled activity is to prepare my lessons for the next day, which usually only takes me 30 minutes to an hour since I like to do the majority of my lesson planning over the weekend. Many volunteers opt for a nap around this time to pass the day a little faster. Naps make me feel lazy, so I usually try not to. (Though I’ve certainly conceded once or twice!) I usually read for the last few hours, up until around 5:30 PM when the others start to wake up from their naps. We hang out and chat until around 7:00 PM, when we start to prepare the food for iftar, the breaking of the fast. A lot of the traditional Ramadan dishes are extremely sweet, (and delicious!) such as chebakia and sohor. This is to up your blood sugar after 15 hours of fasting! After enjoying a delicious and highly anticipated meal that lasts at least an hour or two, we start to get ready for bed around 10:00 PM. And then the cycle begins again!

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Though it may sound intimidating, I haven’t found adjusting to the fast too difficult at all. It’s important to know your body and its limitations, so taking it easy is crucial, especially at first. (No running marathons on day one!) But you’d be amazed at how quickly the body adjusts to a different feeding schedule. To make sure that I’m staying healthy, I try to stay active by regularly going on walks around the neighborhood or to the medina. I also make sure to drink a lot of water throughout the break of the fast to stay hydrated. It’s also important not to eat too much too fast once iftar hits, because you don’t want to overwhelm your body with too much all at once. But these are all pretty straightforward guidelines, so perhaps you’re starting to see why the fast itself isn’t all that intimidating after all!

In my (very limited) experience, the hard part is the commitment. Right now, all of my fellow volunteers are participating in the fast. But next weekend, eight more volunteers will come who likely will not participate, meaning they will be eating at a normal schedule while living with us. This will be like a next level test of willpower for those of us here now, but I imagine this is just another day in the life for any Muslim not living/celebrating in a Muslim country... And for that, I salute them!

As a non-Muslim, Ramadan holds a different significance for me than my students. But the unending support and sense of respect I have earned in their eyes for participating in Ramadan as a foreigner has already made it so worth it. By doing this, I make myself a lot less of a foreigner and much more a part of the community. One of my students who describes himself as not particularly religious wrote a wonderful essay on the importance of the principle of Ramadan for class, and it’s all too appropriate to share an excerpt of his interpretation as part of my own justification for participating in Ramadan:

Because I am hungry and thirsty, I remember my brothers in humanity in Somalia, Djibouti, and everywhere else in the world. I invoke the suffering of these people with my fast. Ramadan is not just a principle of the Islamic religion. Ramadan is like a school to teach the great values of humanity: patience, tolerance, empathy, solidarity, kinship, respect, and forgiveness for our false assumptions about the lives of others.

No pun intended, but how’s that for some food for thought?

A Certain State of Mind

So it’s that time again. I am again pondering my life. Good old melancholic romantic me. Thinking about meaning and life and endings and purpose and impact and legacy and the future and everything. Good stuff. And it’s wonderful because I really need my alone time where I think about life and big things and decisions and perspective, where I really get introspective by myself and examine myself. The past school year was rough going when it came to that, really picking up towards the second semester and the end of the year. Thus this summer was just beautiful, because I was able to have a lot of time to think and be alone and rest. Everything else is usually there anyways, but sometimes I have to put forth a lot of effort for those three things. And now that I finally get the chance to do those things, it is refreshing and relieving beyond what I can describe, and I find myself doing it almost constantly, probably making up for the extreme lack of it that I was previously faced with. You know you are a Romantic personality type when your aunt asks you after an hour or two of conversation and walking through the city if all I think about is life and deep ideas and the future. And in a sense, it’s true.

However, there can be certain pitfalls to this that I have to watch out for. Together with my introspective nature, I also tend to want to know the reason for everything, to know why I believe what I believe, to look for a logical understanding of everything and anything, as well as the answer to the question why. Many times this is a wonderful thing and I think that it is useful for anyone to know these things or at least to desire to. However, it can lead to much doubt, insecurity, and even depression if I can’t remember the reasons why I do things and I have invested a lot to do them anyways. That is because I wish to take the best course of action and to redeem my time, energy, and in the long run, my life, by the grace of God having lived in a way that is as good as can be. It’s so easy though, to think about things and feel insignificant, to think about things and feel small, to think about things and feel as if you aren’t good enough and your work wasn’t good enough, to think about things and not see tangible results and become depressed, to think about things and be discouraged, to think about things and just become broken and paralyzed due to doubt and fear and discouragement and depression and even pride, whatever form of insecurity that may manifest itself through, creating an illusion that is not true and is not reality. And I have had to struggle through all of that. Thank God that He encourages me and comforts me and that my identity is secure in Him, but also that He allows me to see the fruit of my work every now and then, just enough to keep moving forward with all energy and vigor and to show me that this is the good work that I need to be doing right now.

For people that go and do the sort of work that I have been doing this summer, where you go to help, to serve a purpose, working with people and serving them to improve their lives, it’s easy to get down because it’s draining to really invest in people and if you don’t have someone pouring into you, you’ll get burned out. Many people don’t realize that those helping need someone to help them too, but it’s true. Some days the kids like you, some days the kids aren’t very responsive. Some days the kids are nice and friendly to each other, other days they want to fight each other. Some days construction is going well, other days the machinery breaks down or you spend several hours attempting to do something in the best way possible, only to realize that it’s not possible. Some days you can teach more English, some days you have to teach more music or play with them outside. Some days the children are excited and other days the children easily get bored. And it might be due to the weather and how it affects them in no-AC land, or how the weather affects them because they might have to stay inside all day because it’s raining. It might be due to family problems or situations that I am just not aware of, even though I tend to know quite a bit about their lives. It might be because of how much, or rather, how little, they ate last night or that morning. They might have just had a bad day.

When something goes wrong though, it’s so easy to internalize everything, especially if you are trying to be receptive to their input and reactions and trying to understand how to do things in the future. There, of course, are some obvious issues with that. First off, it’s unfair to you. I mean, maybe C and L want to fight because you decided to go and practice numbers before animal words that day or because you decided to play English games with them, but really, probably not. Most likely it’s because their parents were gone on a trip for the past two days and they have had to be cooped up inside because of the rain. If an old machine with a known history of problems breaks down on you, it’s probably not your fault. Matter of fact, it just overheated and it still works as unfaithfully as always. If the kids get bored really quickly and aren’t paying very good attention, it’s probably not because you took breaks or taught useful phrases or learned an English song: it’s probably because it’s really hot outside and they are just drained. If you are hoeing the ground so that a new foundation can be poured and your hoe breaks, it’s probably not because you shouldn’t work so hard: it’s just a very old tool and very tough ground. It may seem silly, but if you don’t ask the right questions at the right time, you can internalize most everything wrong going on around you that you have had any sort of impact on. Then, it keeps you from doing your best work, being yourself, and really giving all of yourself because you are tied up in fears and worries and depression and stress and feelings of unworthiness and doubt and second-guessing games and so on. It’s just really a bad state of mind and it seems reasonable until you ask the right questions, because sometimes, there is a grain of truth in there and there is something that might be improved. However, it is really handling it badly to go down those roads. Emotions are not bad, but how they are handled definitely can be. And that’s a struggle too. Sometimes there is the temptation not to feel anything, especially as a guy, because guys are supposed to be “tough” and “strong” which somewhere along the line became “numb” and “unfeeling.” But love is full of feeling, and if I am to love these kids and the people around me and if I am to form relationships with them that are healthy and beneficial to both parties, then I can’t cut off all emotional connections and pretend that I don’t feel as a defense mechanism. It’s counter-productive. The solution is just a matter of facing the problems and properly dealing with them as they come. And the danger of not doing so is rather large. This goes beyond just personal ruminations and not getting into funks, this plays into every conversation I have, every time I get before the kids and teach, my attitude towards everything, and the impact of the work being done.

However, I’m in a good state of mind. Yay! 🙂 I had some low moments when I was working through everything, but now, I am able to see some of the fruit of my work, and looking back, I know that it was all worth it and that it all made a difference, which is really where one should be at the end of a trip like this. I have about a week and a half remaining in Romania during which time I’ll be at a camp with the Caminul Felix kids for about a week and saying my goodbyes to the Tileagd kids and my people at Charis for the rest of it. Then I am on the road again, on my way back to sweet Tennessee! I fly out the morning of August 13 from Budapest, Hungary. I hit up Dusseldorf and NJ on my way back. And it’s an interesting feeling. I’m not sad to go because I know that my work here will be done and I have done the best that I could. Sure, I’ll miss seeing the people that I met, though we’ll be keeping in touch, and I’ll miss all my family from Romania, but I have no regrets and no reason to be down. It has been a wonderful experience that I’ll remember for the rest of my life and I have been honored with the opportunity to do some good. No reason to feel down there. I enjoyed every moment of it, and looking even at the harder moments, I can say that it was good. Pretty spectacular actually and more than worth all of the trouble.

But of course, there are always the good times, which shouldn’t be forgotten and obviously should be photographed and posted on Lumos blogs such as this one. 🙂 So, time to catch the world up on the local goings-on. Be prepared for lots of pictures. 🙂 One day, we went with the Caminul Felix kids and did some simple farming outside the city. We shelled peas, picked some weird sour cherries that are really popular here in Romania, neatened up one of the gardens, and played English games on the car ride to and fro. Fun it was.

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I also helped out at another Charis camp, and this time, underprivileged kids from Tileagd made it too! (Ahem, my kids. *wink, wink*) Also a wonderful time! Lots of games, lessons, songs (where I was “forced” to play the piano), the grand outdoors, and FOOD. Truly lovely.

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And...another camp working with kids! So many camps! Whew! Love it. Makes me feel young again. Good stuff. Well, what can I say, another splendid camp with splendid kids who really needed the love. The activities were similar to those in the camps I had been a leader in thus far. I was hooked up with this camp through Caminul Felix. It took place in Valea Draganului, which really, is where every camp that ever happens in the whole world should take place. It was gorgeous. Yes, I cried. Beautiful views...

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Beautiful trails...

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Beautiful overlooks...

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Free food that literally tastes like candy...

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Epic campfires, complete with camp songs and guitar accompaniment (yay!)...

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And of course, lot of wonderful adorable children!! (Because what’s a camp without them?)

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Hitting up the construction zone again: and it hits back. 8| Buyah. Anyways, just some classic stuff: cutting some grass the old-fashioned way (yes, it’s a scythe [a.k.a –reaper], hehehe), because the little electric mower is not doing too swell and can’t reach anyways, and I need to get at where the mounds of dirt are so I can level them out for the neighbors who’ll use their big douimahicki to cut the large areas of grass for the camp coming along. That was also the day I overheated the little electric mover. It was a great day. You just feel like a new man once you cut some grass with a scythe and walk around with that thing. It’s a sunny day and you look like the personification of death. And you are wearing an Alaska cap. It’s just fantastic. Try it sometime.

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Digging, cutting, chugging. Oh, and the foundation was poured for the outside edges of the covered structure where I broke my hoe trying to break ground. Also, we’ve been working on a new bathroom for the kids when they are outside, and things are starting to shape up.

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And that’s some of the stuff that is going on with me. Another week or so, saying my goodbyes, and the passing of a season. It’s all very symbolic. 🙂 I love this sort of stuff because I’m a literary geek. You might have guessed that already. Anyways, I’m still working hard, facing issues as they come, and loving people. And that’s something that will go on even after the trip. And I think that that is what this trip is all about: what remains. Some things you experience and then you pass by. Other things you experience purify and remove. But great things remain with you: that’s what ends up defining who you are and who you will become. And isn’t that what counts in the end anyways?

Grace and peace! 🙂

~David Gal-Chiş

A New Perspective on Giving

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This is kind of a rare thing for me, for me to start off with a picture. But I really felt that it was necessary. When I see this picture and these kids, I just kind of die on the inside and cry tears of joy on the outside. It’s a weird feeling, but then again, I’m somewhat new to realizing that it’s ok for a guy to have feelings, so, you know, it’s fine, whatever. If you’ve been keeping up, these are my Tileagd kids again. Great bunch. A little rowdy this last session, but that’s how kids get when they are cooped up inside due to the CANICULA!!! Oh, the horror!!  So the Romanian language has a word for a day of extreme heat, meant to convey feelings of fear, worry, and despair. Note the resemblance to Caligula and Dracula. Definitely on purpose. But I laugh in the face of danger, and the kids and I went for a walk to the nearby creek. We played Telephone with English words and expressions, Hide and Go Seek, and a game that’s called “Ţară, ţară, vrem ostaşi” which translated means “Country, Country, We Want Soldiers” which is pretty much another fun game to wear kids out. Whew! Then we walked back singing some classic Romanian children’s songs and English nursery rhymes. The neighbors gave us some funny looks, but it seemed like they enjoyed it. 🙂 Then we went back to work with the kids! Some more music, some more English, when they get bored of one, switch to the other. Works every time. We started the lessons much earlier though, at least two hours before the games, in which time we did English and music. However this was a special day. My day had started much earlier. This day was special because of more than just the time I was able to spend with the kids. That morning, I had gone shopping together with Shonye, a Romi man that had volunteered many times to help Charis and was my connection to Tileagd, as well as the man who organized all of the children to come whenever we had sessions. After some classic, hardcore price-hunting, we filled the trunk and the backseat with food. Why? This is an interesting time of year for the poor. It’s after the sowing and before the reaping. And the weather tends to the extreme, which is hard for the non-airconditioned world. In America, we give an alert and say to stay inside. In non-America poor-people-land, they respond that inside is outside when you have curtains for doors and leave the windows open that at least the air might circulate.

But we weren’t just giving to any Romi poor. We were giving to the working poor who were in sincere need. Those with a new perspective on life. Classic Romi colony lifestyle? If (big if) the dad works, then usually as soon he gets his hands on some cash, he drinks it all, gambles it away, and then comes home to a hungry family drunk and well...anyways. If the dad doesn’t work, then the methods vary but the results are the same. I won’t bother to show you the condition of their houses/huts/shanties. There are some families where this doesn’t happen, where the dads have changed their lifestyle and as a result, everything else changes as well. This usually happens because of a change of medium due to converting to some evangelical form of Christianity, but I say this because so far, I have seen a grand total of zero cases of this happening any other way, that is, short of the younger generation leaving and the family tree being changed that way. But never a change in the parents. Which is interesting because it really has brought to life the truth that if someone really wants to do some good, then when someone gives, when someone helps, they need to do so in a holistic way, considering the whole person and the whole situation. My old Bosnian buddy Sanjin always used say to me, “Give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, he’ll eat for life.” And that’s so true. If someone is to give tangible help, that will only be useful and beneficial in certain situations. The intangible, however, is what is most important. And just like anyone who knows anything about rehab, overcoming addiction, ghetto culture, and so on knows, one of the most important factors for long-term change is a change in the medium. That’s why at a graduation of TSU’s that I attended, a state-funded public university, they sang black people gospel church music. That’s why the city of Oradea has a part of the budget apportioned specifically to the furthering of religion and religious activities. Because these people are in those situations and know what life is like, and know how that change in the medium can help people with self-destructive lifestyles and unhealthy mediums come out of those situations because they have seen it first-hand. Like I have now.

It’s so interesting: my perspective on giving has developed so much. Now I know what situations the beggars in Romania come from. I know what every action of mine towards them will further or affect. I know their lifestyle because I have worked among them and have seen the truth of their situation. I have seen the half-blind or handicapped children (oftentimes intentionally maimed) begging as well as the healthy mother with five kids as well as the man whose condition is as dilapidated as his life. I have seen people selling flowers only to steal something off the table when people aren’t looking. And now I know the truth of the situations that I have seen. As Solomon says, “For in much wisdom is much grief; and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.” Now I know where giving is helpful to the person and where it is detrimental by furthering an unhealthy lifestyle. Now I can discern just by the style of dress of the beggar and the way that they speak and what they ask for and the way that they ask it and what they answer to my occasional questions what I should do in the situation, because now I’ve seen both sides, or all of the several sides of the issue, and my love has been tempered by truth and my truth by love.

I was eating in the center with some Romanian acquaintances from Oradea one day together with some members of my family from the area and a beggar came to our table. Being the oldest guy, as my uncle had not yet arrived, I had to decide how to deal with the situation. I surely would not have let the ladies give if anyone was to, but if I didn’t give him money or if I decided to give something else, everyone would have followed my lead, because I culturally had the most authority to speak for us if I chose to speak. So, as our food had not come yet and I now have an extremely strict policy that I don’t give money to beggars (especially for people like the beggar that came), when he came by everyone fell silent and I very firmly told him that I don’t give money to beggars. Once, twice, thrice, four times, and he finally left. The Romanians remained silent about it because they understood better how things worked, but a Romanian-American girl there expressed how she wouldn’t have been able to do that. That’s one side of the coin: flatly, coldly refusing because you understand that your money will only hurt them. However, that too is balanced by the other side of the coin, which is what happened on the day of my most recent session in Tileagd. We bought basic staple foods and ingredients for families with a new perspective on life who had already begun to live a new lifestyle. Those where the fathers no longer drank or did drugs, where the fathers worked, where the fathers no longer beat their families, but fed their families and tried to give themselves and their families a better life. Those where the families tried as hard as they could, but things were still difficult, because as reformed Romi, most of them have no education, and the GED-like programs that used to be offered for them are no longer available, so they work on a day-job basis, day-jobs, especially for those without a diploma in a trade, which are oftentimes seasonal in nature, with summers and winters being harder seasons, due the scarcity of nonagrarian day-jobs near where they live. Construction? Who has money to build? You’re in the country. Who needs to build? Mothers working? Who is going to take care of the kids? Daycare is nonexistent in the areas where they live and they couldn’t afford it anyways. Grandparents take care of the kids? Most of the families live in third-world conditions: if the grandparents make it, yes, that is a very happy condition. Drive somewhere else? Who has the money for a car? For gas? And if so, considering the pay-check, is it even worth it?  And a bike? For many of these people, a bike costs about two-month’s salary. For the ones who need it, well...I think you get the picture. So, we helped those who helped themselves as best they could, but still didn’t have enough to not go hungry. And it was special indeed.

Maybe from the pictures you won’t be able to tell their joy and gratitude, but if you knew them and were there and understood Romanian culture, you would have easily been able to tell what was going on inside. Notice that none of the dads are there. Yep, you guessed it: working. Also, take note that the people in all of these pictures are wearing some of their best clothes. Also note: culturally, in Romania, people oftentimes don’t smile a whole lot in pictures, especially official pictures, and you sometimes have to catch them off-guard to do so because of a word-play on the word serious. Being serious is generally considered to be a good thing, but being un-serious is bad because the connotations of the word are very negative, oftentimes used as an insult, to describe someone who cheated you or wronged you and so on. And of course, the aversion to being un-serious is so great, that people tend towards the opposite. It is an interesting example of how language affects a culture. In fact, when I went to go and make my Romanian passport, the people told me not to smile in the picture. Why? Because I didn’t want to appear to be “un-serious.” I think it’s pretty hilarious. But anyways, I thought that I should mention that so that you all can better understand the pictures. So, I decided to add more pictures this time around because people have been asking for more pictures. So, here you go! This first picture is of when we laid all of the food out to get it ready to be packed, in the house of the person who was driving me around to give all of the food out.

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This girl’s mother died, and she sleeps on this bed. Imagine how those cracks keep in the heat during the winter, heat out during the summer, and what effect the curtain over the door has. Yes, the floor is dirt.

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Typical Romanians drying their clothes outside. In this house, there are actually five families who live there. But what I love about this picture, that I think shows the true state of things, is the two little boys here. To each child, I gave a lollipop and two Romanian biscuit dessert things that have chocolate or cream inside of them, some of the least expensive ones too, and they are both running to show their mom. Running. Because they got some cheap biscuit cream dessert thing. I just don’t think people reading this realize how rare stuff like this is for them. I have been bringing the Tileagd kids candy, and I asked them when the last time they ate a piece of candy was, and they said that they couldn’t remember. These are the families with a new perspective, keep in mind, which are doing way, way better than most Romi families, that “way better” being oftentimes still going hungry. I definitely teared up at this picture, especially since I know the children.

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Several families also live in this “house.” Many times the families are separated by only a wall or a curtain.

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Haha. Kid don’t even care about the picture. LOLLIPOP.

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Shirtless, shoeless, pretty typical of these people. Note that for several of these families I didn’t take pictures inside because I didn’t want to shame the families. Imagine that most of the families have rugs on the walls due to a lack of insulation in their houses or simply due to the state of the walls/planks.

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We saw the needs, and addressed them appropriately. And I too was blessed by it.

So, shopping, teaching, giving. It was a great day. 🙂 Just another day in my Lumos project. Also, in case anyone was wondering, I am doing fantastically splendiforous! Just continuing to have a wonderful time here with the kids, helping out with Charis, going into the community and so on. It’s pretty great. 🙂 I’m thoroughly enjoying it and learning a lot from it. But yeah! Life! 🙂 Life with a new perspective. Sobering, but cool. And good. Very good indeed.

~David Gal-Chis

Stuttgarter Frühlingsfest!

Lederhosen!

Last Sunday I had one of the best experiences I’ve had in Germany so far. I was sad when I arrived in October and found out that I was going to miss Oktoberfest since it actually begins in late September and ends in early October. But earlier this year someone told me about Frühlingsfest, which is more or less Oktoberfest during the spring (literally, it’s “spring festival,”) and I resolved to attend. Boy am I glad I did.

As you can see, my friend David and I are dressed in traditional “lederhosen” (literally “leather pants.”) Sadly, I borrowed this pair instead of buying it, since real lederhosen can be quite expensive, but I think the above picture is souvenir enough! We’re also each holding a “Maß,” which is a 1 Liter serving of beer. They don’t sell anything smaller 😀

Frühlingsfest is pretty much one big party. There are always multiple, huge tents set up for celebrating, but we chose to reserve a table at Grandls Hofbräu Zelt, one of the biggest tents at the Stuttgarter Frühlingsfest.

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Inside there are rows and rows of tables and benches, though it might be a misnomer to call the benches, benches. They’re more like standing platforms. Basically, unless you’re eating or exhausted, you’re either standing, jumping, or dancing on the benches. There were several live bands playing a wide range of music, but every half hour or so, you were guaranteed to hear this song:

The words are so easy and repetitive that it’s very easy to link arms, sway side to side, and “prost!” with your friends. Even my friends who have only been in Germany for a few months were singing along by the end of the night.

Inside Grandls

 

All in all, it was a great time. If you ever find yourself in Germany during the spring, and you’re sad that it’s not Oktoberfest time, just remember that Frühlingsfest is (almost) just as good!

Until next time,

Derek

Fresh From the Bakery: Laugenbrezel and Laugenstange

Welcome to the first “Fresh from the Bakery” post. I’ll be using these posts to show off a few of my favorite German baked goods. Not only does it give you a chance to drool, but it gives me an excuse to buy fresh baked goods every week! For me, it was easy to decide which thing to talk about first. Behold, the Laugenbrezel and Laugenstange!

These two didn't even last a day.

Left: Laugenstange, Right: Laugenbrezel

Vocabulary

There’s three important words here: Lauge(n), Stange, and Brezel.

  1. Lauge: literally translates to “lye,” and refers to the lye bath the dough is soaked in that gives these pretzels a distinct look, flavor, and crunchiness.
  2. Stange: literally, “rod.” There are other kinds of “-stange,” but I was interested in the pretzel variety this time.
  3. Brezel: yes, you guessed it. Brezel = “pretzel,” in English. Though it means so much more than those crunchy, dried out snacks made by companies, the likes of which rhyme with Gold Rold.

And since the German language allows you to smash words together to create new ones, that gives us “Laugen-stange” and “Laugen-Brezel.

It should be noted that there are countless names for pretzels, sometimes within the same city! In Bavaria it might be called a “Brezen,” in other places simply “Bretzel” (without Langen-), and there are countless other varieties. I usually communicate by trying as many varieties of the word while jumping up and down excitedly and pointing. Did I mention I love pretzels?

How They’re Served

Generally, the standard Bretzel is served with salt sprinkled on top. Much to my chagrin, I found that it is not typical to eat a Bretzel with mustard, although at home I do WHATEVER I WANT! That said, don’t expect any mustard to be provided when you order one. One variation that does exist is the Butterbrezel. It’s not very complicated, and I bet you can even guess which milk product gets added. That’s right, Butter!

Typically sliced like a sandwich, the Butterbrezel is just a normal pretzel with butter smeared in between the two halves. At first I turned my nose up at this as kind of gross sounding (just room-temperature butter on a pretzel? No thanks), but as soon as I tried it I became a believer. It’s a great, tasty, cheap snack. Some Butterbrezeln even have seasonings or spices added like Schnittlauch (chives), but I prefer the standard pretzel, butter, and salt version.

As for the Laugenstange, I’ve seen it served with salt or sesame seeds, but never butter. No reason why you can’t put some on there yourself!

Taste

Just like any other food you can buy, some stores make it better than others. My personal preference is when the outside of the Brezel is firm and almost crunchy; the outside should be somewhere between snack-pretzels in the US and the outside of bagels. The inside should be fluffy and a little chewy, though not too much. As I said, they’re usually served with salt and sometimes with butter, but I’ve also eaten them with cream cheese or Frischkäse (literally “fresh cheese,” but sort of like a lighter, fluffier cream cheese). The Laugenstange actually tends to have a better overall texture and consistancy, since its shape is more simple and it bakes more evenly. They make a great compliment to breakfast, or they can be a good mid-day snack, if you’re not viciously watching carbs. If you are... I can’t really recommend German food to you in general 😀

Conclusion

The Laugenbrezel and the Laugenstange are both delicious, cheap, and widely-available in Germany. If you’re looking for something to fill you up that tastes good, you can’t go wrong with one of these.

Until next time,

Derek