May 21-29
May 21-24
Mont d'Olmes/ Perpignan/ Toulouse/ Foix/ Mont d'Olmes
Today is actually the 24th but these are excerpts from my journal that I took with me:
May 21:
I'm sitting on a hill by Mont d'Olmes. I hear wind and water and the flutter of my paper and the scratch of my pencil. The sun is rising before me and the mountains including the one peak I conquered yesterday are to my right. I smell spring! The hills stretch out of the valley but only go so far- just like my vision as haze of a new day envelopes the French countryside. Will I be at the beach later today or tomorrow? It's roughly 6:30 am. I'm thinking of Psalm 18:1.
The clouds are covering the rising sun except for one glorious burst of light that is blaring through the gray-blue clouds like a soloing trumpet over the rest of the orchestra. A warm breeze just passed over me but is now gone. I'm slightly chilled again.
May 22:
Oh joy upon joys! I'm sitting on a Mediterranean beach! Despite the fact that some men are in speedos, I am glad I came. A child just ran by and splashed me. I laughed to myself at the innocence. I am sitting right by the water, getting my feet wet with each approaching wave. Oooh big wave. Me bum got wet again. Doodle, Carebear, and Aladdin are back in the sand cause the water is cold for late May. More splendid that this old blue-green water are the mountains to my right. Emerging from the sea, they roar up and beyond my sight past the white hotels. Indeed, they line up all the way to the Atlantic coast. It is high tide and I assume steadily higher and higher. The waves keep getting more powerful, or closer, I can't tell.
I'm rocking out to some Josh Groban and David Crowder.
Next Friday will be my last in Europe.
Will I see this sea again?
May 23
The Cathedral St Jean-Baptiste is a beautifully decorated church with one fault I immediately noticed as I walked in. At the time of my visit, it is being restored so there is a giant tarp blocking the front, that is the choir and the ambulatory. It reminds me of that phrase in 2 Corinthians saying Christians have no veil, we reflect. 2 Corinthians 3:18. I'm in the high vaulted nave with five side chapels on each side, most with huge paintings. Twenty, if not more, feet high.
Perpignan is not exactly the most swinginest town but its alright. It's a nice place to visit. It's got some nasty streets like any city. It has a cool channel running by the train station, just like Toulouse, and to the city center where it curves by an old castillet and flows into a river that ends up in the Mediterranean sea.
Another three hours, and we can enter our hostel at five.
There's something peaceful about a river to me. I'm not big into fishing or up stream wadding, even tho I have done those things. I like to just sit. Sit beside a river and let the world go by. Perhaps it's my passive nature but I like it. It's who I am. I could care less about celebrities, politics, cruelty to animals, international affairs, or anything else that makes the news. C'est pah grave. Nothings matters. Everything is meaningless. The temporary is nothing compared to the eternal or spiritual. The 14th century castle I went to agrees with me. Jacques III built two chapels, both fancier than his throne room, in the middle of his castle. I see people get worked up over the silliest things and yet they don't know what truly matters. Why don't I tell them?
May 24
It's fitting on a Sunday that I explore the churches of Toulouse. I may not agree with everything the builders believed in but Christ was preached. I passed a sign; it was in French and the only word I understood was 'Jesus.' What more do I need to know? Through all cultures, all peoples, all countries, all nationalities, Jesus is the truth. He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. (Colossians 1:15)
I'm now back in my room at Mont d'Olmes. What a weekend. What are we missing? Mhm, there's the fact that I did not go camping with the others but I had fun with the three I was with including Aladdin/ Ben and his magazines. Ask me about it later. I went to a club. Ask me about it in private. We went to a free African music concert Saturday night until midnight-ish. I walked around Perpignan on Saturday when the girls wanted a girl-day and Aladdin went to Toulouse to hang out with people he knew. I was alone but not lonely. I wrote several pages worth of the epic I've been writing ever since I got to Europe. It's almost done... finally. I got a blister on my big toe, probably from wearing flip-flops these past four days and walking a lot. Why, for two nights, were we in the farthest hotel possible from the city center of Perpignan? We switched to the hostel where everyone else was. My hostel roommates ended up being interesting from the metalhead to the French-Canadian dude who talked to Grizz and Dotcom the entire night. Sunday included me walking around Toulouse, hoping the entire time that it would not rain and then arriving in Foix, only to see Aladdin get off the same train as me. The girls would be late so we waited and I ate. Then, we got the taxi and I sat up front, mostly in silence as Aladdin and the girls talked in the back to a conversation I tried to ignore.
Tomorrow, the kids come at 1 o'clock. My last week, here we go!!!!
May 28th
Mont Dumb
Seeing how this is probably my last blog entry, I want it to be positive. This last week at camp however was just the opposite.
The kids seemed innocent getting off of the bus, all 48 of em. But then I had them in one classroom distracting them during Immigration, all 48 of em. Usually, there's three porters. Not this week. Nor last, now that I think of it. But last week's immigration was annoying too. I just didn't know how bad it could be until this Monday. I tried to play hangman with them but no one really listened. Clue number one. So I just let them talk as I would pull two at a time to get their suitcases and go to the Passport station, then the Bank, then the nurse, and finally Customs where two of the staff then rifle through the suitcases and check for food and electronics. The other porter, Aladdin, was always away taking kids upstairs, which was his job, but the kids where always bothersome and trying to go upstairs by themselves or not waiting by the door like they're supposed to. They never listened. Clue number one, re-iterated.
Funky Rota started and I had my family, the Lennon family. The Cash, Hendrix, and Cobain family were elsewhere in the camp. I was giving my family the tour and then twenty minutes later, I would give the next family the tour, etc etc. But the next family was never brought. I was skipped and so I had my bothersome family for forty minutes. For the first ten minutes, I gave them the tour and then tried to start a name-pose game but they didn't get it. Their English level was low. Clue number two that this would not be a great week for the better English speakers are the ones that we get along with the most. So I had about five loud kids in my family I saw. A girl was complaining about being hungry and wanting snack. Imagine a twelve year old with the vocabulary of a whining four year old. Not fun. I'm sure in French, she's an angel. But not for me. So for the next twenty minutes, I kept expecting the rotation to begin, but it never came. So finally when I heard people in the hall I ignored the constantly bickering fighting children behind me and asked someone what happened. Apologies were made and everything worked out in the end but I quickly realized that my family was a terror. Wilma and Burrito being the worst. Starburst is good though, as is others. Yet I notice and will remember the bad ones.
Tuesday went smoothly enough. Everyone was quickly realizing that this is a troublesome group. Our director explained to us that they come from difficult backgrounds. So we need to be patient and strict with discipline. Indy mentioned that even though last week was great and that those kids came from a private school doesn't mean that this week's group is evil.
I fell in love with the kitchen staff this week. That's something positive. Sylvie and Phillipe the chef will come out during meals and talk to Burrito who refuses to speak English expect for the bare essentials of “May I have some... please” “thank you very very much!” and “I love you!” They would kinda babysit him for a few minutes at a time as I got a break from constantly telling him to sit down, be more quiet, and stop shouting or messing with Cinderella next to him.
The campfire / fireplace fire was okay. Indy played guitar and we decided this group was too rambunctious for fun, interactive cheers so Indy just continued to play guitar and Aladdin told a scary story involving all of the counselors yelling at the end. It's always a big hit. Everyone got a smore, if they wanted one, even the teachers.
Wednesday, Wild West Day, took a turn for the worst. Baseball in the parking lot down the hill was as normal, stressful. A baseball went down the hill so I went after it, only to find poison ivy. A teacher kindly went back to the kitchen for vinegar. I continued pitching underhanded until the teacher returned with the vinaigrette. Not surprisingly, the kid named the Hulk hit the ball well as did Bob Dylan but Michael Jackson clipped the ball and it hit his helmet at which he laughed. That's why you wear a helmet, I told them. I don't think anyone but Jimi Hendrix understood me.
Carnival was....mhm. My ring toss station went well but Carebear had a bad time as well as others. We called it short by ending it fifteen minutes early. Dot Com had checked with the teachers to make sure it was okay and it was so we gladly ended it for many kids were getting out of hand running around.
Today is Thursday, Hollywood Day, and the last full day. Dodgeball, Tye-dye and Capture the Flag are the activities for this afternoon. I do not think they will go well. We'll see. Hopefully, I'll be surprised. I'm starting to not care so much. Maybe if the kids could understand me when I ask “Did you like lunch? You...like... lunch? Lunch yum yum food? Good?” things would be different. I can not wait to get to Triple R Ranch where everyone speaks English. I forget what it is like to have a normal conversation with a young person.
Hopefully, I will write again in Paris once I have the internet. Oh yeah, the one week when there several people leaving to go home and transferring to other sites, the internet does not work.
May 29th
This week in hindsight turned out pretty well. Thursday was the best day for me as the Big Boy Boom went well as did Capture the Flag. I'll admit, earlier in the week, I was down about these troublesome kids but I started to care less and less about the normal procedures of rules and boring stuff like that and just started having fun with them.
Tomorrow I go to Paris and then Sunday I fly to the States by way of Ireland and Washington DC.
See ya soon, faithful readers. I'm coming home.
Mont d'Olmes/ Perpignan/ Toulouse/ Foix/ Mont d'Olmes
Today is actually the 24th but these are excerpts from my journal that I took with me:
May 21:
I'm sitting on a hill by Mont d'Olmes. I hear wind and water and the flutter of my paper and the scratch of my pencil. The sun is rising before me and the mountains including the one peak I conquered yesterday are to my right. I smell spring! The hills stretch out of the valley but only go so far- just like my vision as haze of a new day envelopes the French countryside. Will I be at the beach later today or tomorrow? It's roughly 6:30 am. I'm thinking of Psalm 18:1.
The clouds are covering the rising sun except for one glorious burst of light that is blaring through the gray-blue clouds like a soloing trumpet over the rest of the orchestra. A warm breeze just passed over me but is now gone. I'm slightly chilled again.
May 22:
Oh joy upon joys! I'm sitting on a Mediterranean beach! Despite the fact that some men are in speedos, I am glad I came. A child just ran by and splashed me. I laughed to myself at the innocence. I am sitting right by the water, getting my feet wet with each approaching wave. Oooh big wave. Me bum got wet again. Doodle, Carebear, and Aladdin are back in the sand cause the water is cold for late May. More splendid that this old blue-green water are the mountains to my right. Emerging from the sea, they roar up and beyond my sight past the white hotels. Indeed, they line up all the way to the Atlantic coast. It is high tide and I assume steadily higher and higher. The waves keep getting more powerful, or closer, I can't tell.
I'm rocking out to some Josh Groban and David Crowder.
Next Friday will be my last in Europe.
Will I see this sea again?
May 23
The Cathedral St Jean-Baptiste is a beautifully decorated church with one fault I immediately noticed as I walked in. At the time of my visit, it is being restored so there is a giant tarp blocking the front, that is the choir and the ambulatory. It reminds me of that phrase in 2 Corinthians saying Christians have no veil, we reflect. 2 Corinthians 3:18. I'm in the high vaulted nave with five side chapels on each side, most with huge paintings. Twenty, if not more, feet high.
Perpignan is not exactly the most swinginest town but its alright. It's a nice place to visit. It's got some nasty streets like any city. It has a cool channel running by the train station, just like Toulouse, and to the city center where it curves by an old castillet and flows into a river that ends up in the Mediterranean sea.
Another three hours, and we can enter our hostel at five.
There's something peaceful about a river to me. I'm not big into fishing or up stream wadding, even tho I have done those things. I like to just sit. Sit beside a river and let the world go by. Perhaps it's my passive nature but I like it. It's who I am. I could care less about celebrities, politics, cruelty to animals, international affairs, or anything else that makes the news. C'est pah grave. Nothings matters. Everything is meaningless. The temporary is nothing compared to the eternal or spiritual. The 14th century castle I went to agrees with me. Jacques III built two chapels, both fancier than his throne room, in the middle of his castle. I see people get worked up over the silliest things and yet they don't know what truly matters. Why don't I tell them?
May 24
It's fitting on a Sunday that I explore the churches of Toulouse. I may not agree with everything the builders believed in but Christ was preached. I passed a sign; it was in French and the only word I understood was 'Jesus.' What more do I need to know? Through all cultures, all peoples, all countries, all nationalities, Jesus is the truth. He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. (Colossians 1:15)
I'm now back in my room at Mont d'Olmes. What a weekend. What are we missing? Mhm, there's the fact that I did not go camping with the others but I had fun with the three I was with including Aladdin/ Ben and his magazines. Ask me about it later. I went to a club. Ask me about it in private. We went to a free African music concert Saturday night until midnight-ish. I walked around Perpignan on Saturday when the girls wanted a girl-day and Aladdin went to Toulouse to hang out with people he knew. I was alone but not lonely. I wrote several pages worth of the epic I've been writing ever since I got to Europe. It's almost done... finally. I got a blister on my big toe, probably from wearing flip-flops these past four days and walking a lot. Why, for two nights, were we in the farthest hotel possible from the city center of Perpignan? We switched to the hostel where everyone else was. My hostel roommates ended up being interesting from the metalhead to the French-Canadian dude who talked to Grizz and Dotcom the entire night. Sunday included me walking around Toulouse, hoping the entire time that it would not rain and then arriving in Foix, only to see Aladdin get off the same train as me. The girls would be late so we waited and I ate. Then, we got the taxi and I sat up front, mostly in silence as Aladdin and the girls talked in the back to a conversation I tried to ignore.
Tomorrow, the kids come at 1 o'clock. My last week, here we go!!!!
May 28th
Mont Dumb
Seeing how this is probably my last blog entry, I want it to be positive. This last week at camp however was just the opposite.
The kids seemed innocent getting off of the bus, all 48 of em. But then I had them in one classroom distracting them during Immigration, all 48 of em. Usually, there's three porters. Not this week. Nor last, now that I think of it. But last week's immigration was annoying too. I just didn't know how bad it could be until this Monday. I tried to play hangman with them but no one really listened. Clue number one. So I just let them talk as I would pull two at a time to get their suitcases and go to the Passport station, then the Bank, then the nurse, and finally Customs where two of the staff then rifle through the suitcases and check for food and electronics. The other porter, Aladdin, was always away taking kids upstairs, which was his job, but the kids where always bothersome and trying to go upstairs by themselves or not waiting by the door like they're supposed to. They never listened. Clue number one, re-iterated.
Funky Rota started and I had my family, the Lennon family. The Cash, Hendrix, and Cobain family were elsewhere in the camp. I was giving my family the tour and then twenty minutes later, I would give the next family the tour, etc etc. But the next family was never brought. I was skipped and so I had my bothersome family for forty minutes. For the first ten minutes, I gave them the tour and then tried to start a name-pose game but they didn't get it. Their English level was low. Clue number two that this would not be a great week for the better English speakers are the ones that we get along with the most. So I had about five loud kids in my family I saw. A girl was complaining about being hungry and wanting snack. Imagine a twelve year old with the vocabulary of a whining four year old. Not fun. I'm sure in French, she's an angel. But not for me. So for the next twenty minutes, I kept expecting the rotation to begin, but it never came. So finally when I heard people in the hall I ignored the constantly bickering fighting children behind me and asked someone what happened. Apologies were made and everything worked out in the end but I quickly realized that my family was a terror. Wilma and Burrito being the worst. Starburst is good though, as is others. Yet I notice and will remember the bad ones.
Tuesday went smoothly enough. Everyone was quickly realizing that this is a troublesome group. Our director explained to us that they come from difficult backgrounds. So we need to be patient and strict with discipline. Indy mentioned that even though last week was great and that those kids came from a private school doesn't mean that this week's group is evil.
I fell in love with the kitchen staff this week. That's something positive. Sylvie and Phillipe the chef will come out during meals and talk to Burrito who refuses to speak English expect for the bare essentials of “May I have some... please” “thank you very very much!” and “I love you!” They would kinda babysit him for a few minutes at a time as I got a break from constantly telling him to sit down, be more quiet, and stop shouting or messing with Cinderella next to him.
The campfire / fireplace fire was okay. Indy played guitar and we decided this group was too rambunctious for fun, interactive cheers so Indy just continued to play guitar and Aladdin told a scary story involving all of the counselors yelling at the end. It's always a big hit. Everyone got a smore, if they wanted one, even the teachers.
Wednesday, Wild West Day, took a turn for the worst. Baseball in the parking lot down the hill was as normal, stressful. A baseball went down the hill so I went after it, only to find poison ivy. A teacher kindly went back to the kitchen for vinegar. I continued pitching underhanded until the teacher returned with the vinaigrette. Not surprisingly, the kid named the Hulk hit the ball well as did Bob Dylan but Michael Jackson clipped the ball and it hit his helmet at which he laughed. That's why you wear a helmet, I told them. I don't think anyone but Jimi Hendrix understood me.
Carnival was....mhm. My ring toss station went well but Carebear had a bad time as well as others. We called it short by ending it fifteen minutes early. Dot Com had checked with the teachers to make sure it was okay and it was so we gladly ended it for many kids were getting out of hand running around.
Today is Thursday, Hollywood Day, and the last full day. Dodgeball, Tye-dye and Capture the Flag are the activities for this afternoon. I do not think they will go well. We'll see. Hopefully, I'll be surprised. I'm starting to not care so much. Maybe if the kids could understand me when I ask “Did you like lunch? You...like... lunch? Lunch yum yum food? Good?” things would be different. I can not wait to get to Triple R Ranch where everyone speaks English. I forget what it is like to have a normal conversation with a young person.
Hopefully, I will write again in Paris once I have the internet. Oh yeah, the one week when there several people leaving to go home and transferring to other sites, the internet does not work.
May 29th
This week in hindsight turned out pretty well. Thursday was the best day for me as the Big Boy Boom went well as did Capture the Flag. I'll admit, earlier in the week, I was down about these troublesome kids but I started to care less and less about the normal procedures of rules and boring stuff like that and just started having fun with them.
Tomorrow I go to Paris and then Sunday I fly to the States by way of Ireland and Washington DC.
See ya soon, faithful readers. I'm coming home.
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