Time flying by...
Mont d'Olmes
April 23rd
Time flies. I thought I would have time to write a little of this blog every now and then but the camp life is busy, busy, busy. At Petit Bois- which I do miss but Mont d'Olmes is good too- there was a little more staff so everyone got a little more time off. This week, I have received time for myself twice. That is, during the day. Night time is when the others here come alive and hang out as I carry my tired, sniffing self to bed. Yep, the mountain and the act of traveling to a different climate has struck up my cold again but it should be gone in a couple of days. I can eat an orange every breakfast, vitamins, lots of water as I have wandered away from coffee these past couple of weeks. I think I had one cup last week and that was in a little European cup. Prague was the only place where they had large drinks. In Spain, France, Germany, and Italy, everyone drank out of small cups. It wasn't that bad, but it means more refills at the dinner table.
This site's counselors are definitely crazier than the last. Two or three at Petit Bois might have fallen in the crazy category but everyone here likes to cut up, dress up, and act up- that is in drama, not disrespecting the boss. Needless to say, I fit in better at the less crazy place. It is perfectly alright though, I like it here, everyone is cool and all and the mountains are certainly nice to look up at enjoy the Creator's magnificence.
One of the first night's, my roommate Brooklyn-- ironically enough from New York City-- asked what music I like. I shrugged and said I tend to listen to whatever. He then asked if I listen to Christian pop. He probably said it as a joke but I instantly wondered if this was a sign to be more open about my Savior here than I was at the last camp site. I said yes, if it has a good beat to it... Cop out.
Later, we did get talking and he learned that I am rather religious and I learned that he is Jewish, but not really practicing. How did we get on that subject? Its one of those taboo things, you know, that you're not supposed to talk about: politics, God, and something else. I don't know why but that's the saying. I just remember those first two because I differ from practically everyone I meet here on the other side of the world. Except of course, the brethren in the International Baptist Church of Prague and Chris's friends and family in Frankfurt, Germany. Which, in turn, is different from everything I have ever known. Politics, I rarely talk about anyways; but religion and God? Considering I went to a conservative Christian university and graduated with a degree in Religion, I rarely met folks who didn't like the fact that I loved the Lord.
So, does my separation further and further away from my normal comfort zone bring me that much closer to Him? Yes, and so much more. The farther I go, the more people I meet, the many things I see and witness do not bring me down, plague me, or spoil my testimony. I can say triumphantly that I stay true to the One who saved me. Do boast in myself? May He forbid it and rebuke me if I do. I know that I am weak and poor in character. It is by His guidance and prodding like a shepherd that I have stayed on the path. I also boast in great parents who taught a foundation of morals and virtue.
At this camp of fun counselors, they implemented from the beginning the idea that Petit Bois was just starting: giving the children names. Usually, they arrive with American names that they chose for themselves. Staff also have nicknames, most likely to dis-encourage counselors and students finding each other on the internet. I'm happy to say I am still Baloo. Coming to this site, there was a counselor already here who wanted that nickname but he ceded and kept his original name of Nipper. Anyways, the kids have fun names like Pepsi, Lipstick, or Charlie Brown. And thankfully, these kids speak fairly well. We can actually hold a conversation at the dinner table about favorite movies, food, or why Brooklyn is giving Willow and Flava Flav stuffed animals. (They like to give the kids some drama to talk about.)
The joy of being on a snowy mountain in high Pyrenees is that there is snow. For the past couple of days, I have been tramping up in the snow and sledding with the French kids. (I get paid for this?) Today, the sun was out and there were no clouds. Simply gorgeous, the white snow reflected brightly as several peaks circled us. We walk up a hill to one of the posts supporting the ski lift and then sled back down towards the building with the cafeteria, Congress, Whitehouse, and two classrooms. The building across the pavement has the last two more classrooms and the staff rooms.
Last week, I taught English in Harvard. This week, I'm teaching at UCLA. So my certification in TEFL from Prague must have actually did help since I am now teaching at such prestigious named schools such as these. This week and the next, I'm teaching English. It is going well I think and the kids seem to be enjoying it. Hopefully, they are learning. Sometimes, I go over something and they're eyes light up and they say “Oh!”
Unfortunately, my normal sense of humor requires puns, play on words, and dry wit. With teaching English as a second language, this is next to impossible. So I resort to what my co-worked do and pantomime and be silly a bit. One of my TEFL teachers in Prague said that he never talked with his hands until he taught English. I understand now.
Tomorrow, these great kids leave and go back towards Toulouse. Tonight is the dance which I lucked out and volunteered and got the assignment of serving water. Everyone else, except the DJ, dances the night away. Not my cup of tea. Or coffee. Or beer. Or soda. I'll stick to water.
April 23rd
Time flies. I thought I would have time to write a little of this blog every now and then but the camp life is busy, busy, busy. At Petit Bois- which I do miss but Mont d'Olmes is good too- there was a little more staff so everyone got a little more time off. This week, I have received time for myself twice. That is, during the day. Night time is when the others here come alive and hang out as I carry my tired, sniffing self to bed. Yep, the mountain and the act of traveling to a different climate has struck up my cold again but it should be gone in a couple of days. I can eat an orange every breakfast, vitamins, lots of water as I have wandered away from coffee these past couple of weeks. I think I had one cup last week and that was in a little European cup. Prague was the only place where they had large drinks. In Spain, France, Germany, and Italy, everyone drank out of small cups. It wasn't that bad, but it means more refills at the dinner table.
This site's counselors are definitely crazier than the last. Two or three at Petit Bois might have fallen in the crazy category but everyone here likes to cut up, dress up, and act up- that is in drama, not disrespecting the boss. Needless to say, I fit in better at the less crazy place. It is perfectly alright though, I like it here, everyone is cool and all and the mountains are certainly nice to look up at enjoy the Creator's magnificence.
One of the first night's, my roommate Brooklyn-- ironically enough from New York City-- asked what music I like. I shrugged and said I tend to listen to whatever. He then asked if I listen to Christian pop. He probably said it as a joke but I instantly wondered if this was a sign to be more open about my Savior here than I was at the last camp site. I said yes, if it has a good beat to it... Cop out.
Later, we did get talking and he learned that I am rather religious and I learned that he is Jewish, but not really practicing. How did we get on that subject? Its one of those taboo things, you know, that you're not supposed to talk about: politics, God, and something else. I don't know why but that's the saying. I just remember those first two because I differ from practically everyone I meet here on the other side of the world. Except of course, the brethren in the International Baptist Church of Prague and Chris's friends and family in Frankfurt, Germany. Which, in turn, is different from everything I have ever known. Politics, I rarely talk about anyways; but religion and God? Considering I went to a conservative Christian university and graduated with a degree in Religion, I rarely met folks who didn't like the fact that I loved the Lord.
So, does my separation further and further away from my normal comfort zone bring me that much closer to Him? Yes, and so much more. The farther I go, the more people I meet, the many things I see and witness do not bring me down, plague me, or spoil my testimony. I can say triumphantly that I stay true to the One who saved me. Do boast in myself? May He forbid it and rebuke me if I do. I know that I am weak and poor in character. It is by His guidance and prodding like a shepherd that I have stayed on the path. I also boast in great parents who taught a foundation of morals and virtue.
At this camp of fun counselors, they implemented from the beginning the idea that Petit Bois was just starting: giving the children names. Usually, they arrive with American names that they chose for themselves. Staff also have nicknames, most likely to dis-encourage counselors and students finding each other on the internet. I'm happy to say I am still Baloo. Coming to this site, there was a counselor already here who wanted that nickname but he ceded and kept his original name of Nipper. Anyways, the kids have fun names like Pepsi, Lipstick, or Charlie Brown. And thankfully, these kids speak fairly well. We can actually hold a conversation at the dinner table about favorite movies, food, or why Brooklyn is giving Willow and Flava Flav stuffed animals. (They like to give the kids some drama to talk about.)
The joy of being on a snowy mountain in high Pyrenees is that there is snow. For the past couple of days, I have been tramping up in the snow and sledding with the French kids. (I get paid for this?) Today, the sun was out and there were no clouds. Simply gorgeous, the white snow reflected brightly as several peaks circled us. We walk up a hill to one of the posts supporting the ski lift and then sled back down towards the building with the cafeteria, Congress, Whitehouse, and two classrooms. The building across the pavement has the last two more classrooms and the staff rooms.
Last week, I taught English in Harvard. This week, I'm teaching at UCLA. So my certification in TEFL from Prague must have actually did help since I am now teaching at such prestigious named schools such as these. This week and the next, I'm teaching English. It is going well I think and the kids seem to be enjoying it. Hopefully, they are learning. Sometimes, I go over something and they're eyes light up and they say “Oh!
Unfortunately, my normal sense of humor requires puns, play on words, and dry wit. With teaching English as a second language, this is next to impossible. So I resort to what my co-worked do and pantomime and be silly a bit. One of my TEFL teachers in Prague said that he never talked with his hands until he taught English. I understand now.
Tomorrow, these great kids leave and go back towards Toulouse. Tonight is the dance which I lucked out and volunteered and got the assignment of serving water. Everyone else, except the DJ, dances the night away. Not my cup of tea. Or coffee. Or beer. Or soda. I'll stick to water.
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