No 2 Rameron Avenue
Imhoff's Gift
Kommetjie
South Africa
7979
Feel free to show me the American love!
P.S. It turns they actually do have peanut butter here, so I'm all stocked up on that. No need to mail that across the ocean, but thanks anyway :)
No 2 Rameron Avenue
Imhoff's Gift
Kommetjie
South Africa
7979
Feel free to show me the American love!
P.S. It turns they actually do have peanut butter here, so I'm all stocked up on that. No need to mail that across the ocean, but thanks anyway :)
"Quit living as if the purpose of life is to arrive safely at death. Set God-sized goals. Pursue God-ordained passions. Go after a dream that is destined to fail without divine intervention. Keep asking questions. Keep making mistakes. Keep seeking God. Stop pointing out problems and become part of the solution. Stop repeating the past and start creating the future. Stop playing it safe and start taking risks. Expand your horizons. Accumulate experiences. Enjoy the journey. Find every excuse you can to celebrate everything you can. Live like today is the first day and last day of your life. Don’t let what’s wrong with you keep you from worshipping what’s right with God. Burn sinful bridges. Blaze a new trail. Criticize by creating. Worry less about what people think and more about what God thinks. Don’t try to be who you’re not. Be yourself. Laugh at yourself. Quit holding out. Quit holding back. Quit running away. Chase the lion!"
Mark Batterson-In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day
From left to right: Ellen, Danielle, Hanneke, Tammy, Tim, Natasha, Tracy & Me
Not pictured: The Lankfords & Melanie Dill
It's been an incredible experience to land in a foreign country and have an instant family. I'm so appreciate of this crew above and they have most certainly made this journey so much easier for me already.
I love these people. There is something really incredible about the heart of a volunteer. It doesn't seem to matter if it's not their job, or it's their day off, or if someone else isn't doing their job, complaints are few and hard work is abundant. I'm really proud to be a part of this sharp, talented and passionate group of people.
Let me introduce you:
Ellen is a nurse from Holland that has worked in full time missions for the past 13 years. She is joining us after 4 years in South America, 4 years in Asia and 3 years here in northern South Africa. Wow! Ellen will be the only other long term vol nurse here so we will be working very closely together in the next year or so and teaming up to get the many needs here taken care of!
In front of Ellen, is Danielle, a former school teacher, who many of you already know and love, since she was sent out from my home church BBC a couple of years ago. Danielle serves as the Life Skills Educator Program Coordinator and is not only making a difference in hundreds of children's lives everyday, but she also is mentoring and leading a fantastic team of local Life Skills Educators who work in the local schools and townships across Cape Town each day.
To Ellen's left is Hanneke, also a nurse from Holland serving here for the past five months working in our Masi Township Wound Dressing Clinic. Hanneke worked as a home care nurse for 7 years in Holland before her time here, and she has been a great source of information for me in her knowledge of wound care. We are really going to miss her when she heads back to Holland later this month and I know she is going to miss her sweet sister & nephews who live here! Hopefully she will be back soon to visit!
Tammy, in the middle, is a primary school teacher from SA & Great Britain, who is currently working in the Red Hill township running their afternoon club for kids. Through skits, songs, Bible lessons, snacks and games Tammy is building relationships with kids, teaching them about life outside the township and encouraging them in their growth as little people. Her solo commitment to Red Hill has had a great impact on that certain group of kids and she will also be very missed as she heads back to England in May.
Tim & Natasha serve as the Volunteer Coordinators for Living Hope. They are the wonderful people responsible for all of the volunteers being here and technically are my "bosses" for the next long while, which is fine by me! They recently joined the LH team about 6 months ago after a road trip from England to South Africa and have made a huge impact at Living Hope in the short time they've been here. They coordinate ALL of the short term volunteer teams that come here as well as make sure that the long term volunteers are well taken care of. They also lead our Monday night small group. We are all so appreciative of the good work they do and love working with them!
Tracy, in the front on the right, is a vol nurse from South Carolina that is primarily responsible for orienting me, God bless her heart :) Tracy has been here for five months and will also be returning home in less than a month, leaving a huge hole in our hearts and leaving really BIG shoes for me to fill. Tracy's ICU expertise has been a God-send and she really has jumped in with all her head and heart knowledge in many capacities here. She most certainly blazed the trail for me and she has plans to return to us as soon as she can. My job is to hold down the fort while she is gone. She's a great joy to work with and I personally am really going to miss our dynamic nurse duo!
Now you know who I'm talking about when I talk about them! Though this team will be constantly changing as volunteers come and go, I'm grateful for the link we have to one another because of our mutual experiences in South Africa, the unity of our mission, and the part we play in the body of Christ. Looking forward to all that God is doing in this group!
I saw something today I’m not sure I ever wanted to see. I can’t be sure the scars will heal for either of us.
A 40-something year old man came into the wound dressing clinic today, 3 weeks after he had been badly burned from neck to knee with boiling water. My gut told me that this wasn’t an accident. I just couldn’t seem to fathom how he could have possibly been burned that badly except for purposefully. The other carers (nurse assistants) told me that this type of extensive burn was “more than normal” and something they see all the time inflicted by another human. Nothing new for them.
It was all I could do to hold it together and not to cry. Thankfully I didn’t find out the reason he was burned until after it was all over.
He had been discharged from a local hospital a few days ago and was told to come to our clinic for daily dressing changes. I couldn’t read the hospital report because it was written in Afrikans, so I had to do my best in guessing what I was going to find beneath his totally mummified-white-cloth-wrapped neck, chest, back, torso, groin and legs. It was worse than anything I have ever seen. But then again, I seem to say that everyday now.
He stripped down to his underwear and when we began to peel the old dressings off they stuck very badly to his burned skin and he started to bleed. After almost an hour of peeling and soaking the bandages in water we still couldn’t get them off. His pain was very bad and he began to shake horribly with goose-bumps and chills all over his body. One of the carers made up some home-made Gatorade, as I feared he was headed into shock from the pain and fatigue of the long dressing change. I did all I could to calm him while holding his non-burned hand and arm. I patted, stroked, and shushed just like you would a child while he cried.
At one point I found myself bending down in front of him, holding his knees down, both of us silently praying for God to give us strength to complete this. We both knew neither of us had a choice. His bandages had to be cleaned and I had to do it. We continued to work, taking rest breaks as he needed them and as I painfully pulled each bandage off, I quietly hummed an old hymn I love, recorded by Selah, called “I Need Thee Every Hour.”
“I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord
No tender voice like Thine can peace afford.
I need Thee every hour, in joy or pain;
Come quickly and abide, or life is vain.
I need Thee, oh, I need Thee;
Every hour I need Thee;
Oh, bless me now, my Savior,
I come to Thee.”
The lyrics could not have been more appropriate for the situation, and when the others began to hum along with me, I knew the tune was bringing him comfort as well, or at least distraction from the pain. After it was all said and done, he got dressed, politely said thank you, told us he would be back Monday and left. Case closed. Job well done.
It was only later, while I was collecting our end of the day statistics, the care partner who spoke his language explained to me what had happened, as he had just told it to her.
Per his own report, one night a few weeks ago, he had been severely beating his wife while his youngest daughter watched. At some point the 4-year old little girl pushed a toggle switch and started an electric tea kettle full of water to heat. When it was finished boiling, she somehow pulled it down off the high shelf onto her dad on purpose so that he would stop beating her mother.
I’m sorry, WHAT? WHAT!?! WHAT!?! What do I possibly do with a story like that? Instantly a million scenarios and questions started running through my head. Where is the child now? Where is the mother now? Are either of them injured? Were they burned too? Is he still beating them? I have no idea. The father told the carer he had forgiven his daughter and had no malice towards her, but I got no other information, as the man had already left. He’s gone and I’m left with the story.
Here’s what I do know. I would not have treated him any differently than I did, even knowing now, that some would say he got what was coming to him. Justice served for his abusive ways. Yet, the love of Christ demands that I extend to this man all of the same mercy, grace and pardon which was extended to me in my same hour of great depravity.
My friend Dan Haseltine says it well: “This is the paradox of being a follower of Christ, to hate injustice but to love mercy.”
That patient knew walking in this morning that Living Hope is a Christian organization, and by nature we would offer him healing in many capacities. We would give both tender care, as well as tender mercy, in his incredibly helpless state. This story, and the thousands more I will encounter is the reason I am here: to preach and to heal. Neither alone will fix this man. Either his wounds will heal and his life will continue to be a broken mess, or He will come to know the Lord through our witness, and his physical healing will pale in comparison to the healing he finds in his heart.
My only recourse is to continue to pray for my patient. I won’t be working at the same location on Monday if he comes back in, but I did pass his story along to the other volunteer nurse who works there so she can follow up if he shows up.
Will you pray for all of us as at Living Hope as we preach and heal? Will you pray for my patient and his family? Will you pray for me to have courage to speak the truth of Christ is those situations? I assure you that changing a band-aid or two is nothing compared to the challenge of changing people’s hearts.
Ultimately, that is why I am here. Help me not to forget it.
Cape Agulhas: The Southern-most tip of Africa!
So I'm here! Now what? What's that? You demand an update? Your wish is my command. Here you go:
Settling in during my first week in Cape Town was completely dependant on the other vols helping me out and I’m so glad they did. Thanks to all of you for driving me around and providing lots of helpful hints in my first few days!
Last Saturday, Danielle took me back to the Pick-n-Pay for grocery staples and to charge up my phone with minutes. It's a pay-as-you-go system for cell phones here, so you have to be careful not to run out of airtime for when you might need it!
I also manged to pick up my long term rental car last Saturday. Danielle drove me over to Lynn & Archie's home, where they run A2B car rentals. They are the sweetest older couple and it was much like renting a car from your English grandparents. They are sweet as can be and very careful with their rentals and renters. They run their business from their dining room table, and gave me the keys to an older model white Toyota Corolla, whose name is George. All the cars have names that are stickered on the bumpers... it's kinda cute. George and I are off to a very good start. In the long run, it would make way more sense to buy a car, but cars here are VERY expensive to purchase and as a foreigner here, I would have to have all the cash up front. No financing is available for us non-residents. Cars average out to about double what they cost in the States, and since the townships I'll be working in are spread very far apart, a car is a must have for me. There went my bike plan! Thankfully the high rental price covers insurance as well, which as it turned out, I would be needing in only a few short days during my first fender bender. Whoops :(
Driving a stick on the left hand side on the road, as well as the left hand side of the car is quite strange. I feel sixteen all over again. I'm trying to be careful of every turn and carefully following the speed limits. It’s quite tricky. Parking is particularly difficult for me. It feels strange not to be able to judge an accurate distance on your left hand side/passenger side. I've already hit a curb a few times and that probably won't be the first.
My orientation at Living Hope is going really well. It's always difficult to start in a new place, and it takes time to learn how everything works, but I'm loving what I've seen so far.
I got to spend a day in the wound dressing clinic in Masi where we saw 33 patients with extraordinarily diverse medical issues. Botched up C-sections, rabid dog bites, knife fight injuries, hot oil and cook-fire burns, and many an "unknown" injury, made for a very interesting day. Through three times weekly wound care, LH is providing a wonderful service in preventing infection and treating complicated and ongoing wound issues in HIV/TB patients that absolutely need it. Spoiler alert: Stop reading here if you have a queasy stomach. For those of you who like the gory details, lets just say that a lady who complained of a "shaving bump" ended up having a open oozing abscessed boil that produced four double handfuls of pus in rapid fashion. Even the seasoned nurse took a step back at that one! It took three of us to clean her up and send her for an open excision at the local hospital. And that was just the beginning of our day! I can already tell I'm in for a doozy of medical lessons.
I also was very blessed to be around for the once quarterly Palliative Care Staff Church Service that our volunteer nurse, Tracy, organized. As a special treat to the staff, Tracy brought in a former patient to tell his story about the great care he received at LH, as well as one of the local pastors who gave a wonderfully encouraging talk to help our team of medical staff in the continuance of their good work. We had a little reception after the service and it was a great joy to get to serve lunch to those who are serving the LH patients everyday for very little pay and less glamour. Some of our care-partners have worked here for 9 years, and the nurses here rely heavily on them to treat and manage the patients in our home care programs. That and their language skills are vital to the services that LH provides.
My third clinical day was spent in the main Health Care Center, working in our in-patient unit. I was highly impressed by the modern technology available and the care seems right up to par with the States. Tube feedings, urinary catheters, blood draws, dressing changes, morning meds, doctors rounds, pleural taps etc. I saw the whole nine yards. I was also privileged to meet a sweet volunteer nurse named Julie who comes twice a week to give hand and foot massages to each of the patients. She spends her time praying for the patients and talking to them, which was awesome since the nurses and other staff are often too busy to do that kind of one-on-one care. Often in the advanced stages of AIDS, peripheral nerve damage is very common and Julie’s massages seem to help alleviate some of these painful complaints. So blessed to know her and inspired by her example.
Each day brings new and interesting things at LH
Thanks for your prayers, and for reading along! I’ll talk to you soon!
Ames
So far, South Africa is confusing. As Natasha says here, "It's not right or wrong, it's just different." Trying to explain where I've been the past week and what I've been doing sounds ridiculous but you would not BELIEVE how much time it takes to accomplish the simplest of tasks as I try to adjust to this new culture. All in all, I'm doing great, but everything here is life lived at a much different pace. Here's what I'm working on now:
1. Finding out that they charge you for drink refills. R16.95 mistake. Whoops.
2. Turning in the wrong way to every gated entrance. Left side dummy, left side.
3. There is not always hot water in every sink. It's way weird.
4. Pump toilets. Yes, you must "pump" the handle to make it flush. Who knew?
5. Cape Cobras & Scorpions. Both poisonous. I did not sign up for THAT!
6. Car accidents. Yes, I've already been in a little fender bender in really bad traffic and yes, it was my fault. Totally mortifying.
7. Driving on the left hand side of the road in a left handed stick shift. I am trying to remain extremely focused while driving.
8. The electricity here is way weird. They actually have two different plugs. Confusing much.
9. I still don't have a hairdryer.
10. I ask ten billion dumb questions a day.
11. Laundry is $10 for two loads. Wowee.
12. They pump your gas for you and check your oil with each visit.
13. "Biltong" = Yummy meat jerky. Ostrich anyone?
14. "Braii" = National pastime of extreme barbecuing. They barbecue EVERYTHING here including sandwiches and breads. Meat is king here.
15. One game of Cricket is SO long! It can takes DAYS! With tea breaks and all!
16. Everything closes at 4pm. You must have all errands done by this time or else.
17. The internet. Let's just say that there are only about 3 WiFi spots in town and they all close early. Internet is still billed here by the "gig" usage which means that I blew thru one gig in about 48 hours. Thus why the internet then cut off for a few days until we bought another gig. It's a whole 'nother world down here.
18. Fresh meat and fresh baked bread are cheaper than the pre-packed kind. Cool huh?
19. You don't "honk the horn," you "hoot the hooter". Try saying that without cracking a smile :)
20. It's perfectly acceptable and culturally preferred here to refer to a person specifically by their race. (ie) "She's colored. He's black." There seems to be a certain sense of distinguishable pride in the ethnic diversity of SA.
21. You may never use the word "fanny." It means something totally different.
22. Chutney flavoring is very popular due to the Indian cultural influence.
23. No top sheet for bedding. Duvet cover only.
24. It's likely a national crime to not have an electric tea kettle available at all times in all places.
25. On the other hand, you couldn't find a proper coffee maker to save your life. Instant Nescafe is life. Eventually I'll be on the hunt for a french press.
26. Tea breaks are a must. Twice-a-day, everyday, or you will be scolded for not taking good care of yourself.
27. Diet Coke is gross here. I guess there went that bad habit of mine.
28. Avocados are called "Avos". Long "A".
29. Dividing every purchase by seven in your head to figure the cost. It's exhausting. I still think I'm playing with Monopoly money, which isn't a good idea, because it's not like there is any more to be found in the box!
30. I have no idea how long anything is or how far away something is... 50K? That means nothing to me. Where's my calculator?
29. Dividing every purchase by seven in your head to figure the cost. It's exhausting. I still think I'm playing with Monopoly money, which isn't a good idea, because it's not like there is any more to be found in the box!
30. I have no idea how long anything is or how far away something is... 50K? That means nothing to me. Where's my calculator?
Alright that's all my brain can handle for right now. So if you need me, I'll just be down here learning lots and lots of new things, and I'll let you know how it goes. Still so much to do!
I continue to have my expectations exceeded by this ministry. I'm so impressed by what they have accomplished in the last ten years, since their establishment in 2000. Considering the difficulty of the challenges they face in the townships, I'm blown away.
Although I am sure the time is coming when my expectations will need to be thrown out the window, as every organization assuredly has it's messy bits, it's nice to know that my instincts weren't off base about the ministry as a whole. They are doing Christ's work in a very tangible way and they are doing it well.
Today stands in excruciatingly stark contrast to the beauty I've already seen of SA. In summary: it's worse than you fear. It's twice as bad as you probably can imagine. It's horrific. No need to mince words with that. The very few pictures I took today don't even come close to giving an accurate portrayal of any township, and the total depravity of what lies within. I will post pics as I am able, but just like in any clinic or hospital in America, there is patient privacy to consider, as well as not wanting to exploit the members of these communities. This isn't a petting zoo suitable for photo ops, by any means. No story told here is new to these seasoned vols. I have a feeling that there are many heartbreaking stories ahead of my listening ears and open eyes in this next season.
Today my emotions have ranged all over the place. I've been brought to tears on an hourly basis. I am more than convinced than ever that I am in the place God wants me. It feels more than right. Mostly I am proud of the work that is done here. I am proud to know the most decent human beings on the planet that work here day in and day out. I'm so thankful they are letting me in on their little group. They already have treated me better than family. Their volunteer spirit is indomitable. I'm so privileged to work with this organization.
Danielle helped sum up my tour of LH this morning with this common colloquial NGO phrase about the enormity of the task that lies ahead: "How do you eat an elephant?... One bite at a time."
Today wasn't even bite one, it was just a lick. Tomorrow I start officially in the Health Care Center with my first nursing shift. Wish me luck!
It’s my very first day and night here in South Africa and I’ve already felt very warmly greeted by so many!
Tim & Natasha are my new bosses at Living Hope and serve as the volunteer coordinators for LH’s many, many teams that come to work here. They kindly picked me up at the airport and it was wonderful to see their familiar smiling faces when I arrived. They brought along with them Ellen, a nurse who is here from Holland serving, so I’ve already been meeting my coworkers!
We managed to fit all of my enormous and heavy luggage into John & Avril’s loaned car, and straight to the team house we went. Clynton couldn’t believe how much stuff I’d brought. He thoroughly teased me, and I may have deserved it :)
After acquiring the keys to the Fosters’ house from Timo & Mike M. we made our way back to my new place in Inhoff’s Gift. It turns out I live just a few minutes from everywhere and everyone, which is great!
I have a cozy little 400 sq. foot studio that I already adore, although we aren't yet sure if this will be my permanent home. It's a little small for visitors, and I may need something bigger long term. It’s got a trendy bamboo/zen like exterior, on tan adobe plaster, with an “African” décor inside. Lots of orange, which I like, as it makes it bright and cheery. I’ll be posting a video as soon as I have good access to the internet, which is currently on hold while my landlord is away.
Tim took me to the Pick-n-Pay today which was surprisingly adequate. In my opinion, it's much like your neighborhood Kroger. We got just a few basics for me to subsist on and Danielle will be taking me back in the afternoon tomorrow for some “real” shopping. Looks like this girl is going to need to get a menu planner in order, STAT!
I only have one suitcase left to unpack, which I think is a good sign! I will need a place to store winter clothes, but I’m sure we will figure that out.
Security here is a really big deal. There is a security gate within just 40 or so feet or so from my back porch, 24 hour closed circuit television monitoring, and a full alarm system with motion detectors. Plus I have Jesus. He and I are tight like that :)
After a little unpacking for me the LH vol girls & Tim took me to dinner at a local Portuguese restaurant.
This is what they brought out when I ordered a chicken kibob....
This is what they brought out when I ordered a chicken kibob....
Oh my! It literally came off the grill and they hung it on this contraption. We decided it was most definately worth a photo!
More to come!
Today after the perfect cup of coffee with Emily at La Cafeo Theque, she went to work I went off to the Musee Rodin. What a great place. Hosted at Rodin's former home, he donated every piece of art to the musuem. Many famous sculptures are housed here: below are a few of my favorites. As I've already said, I'm a sucker for passionate sculpture work, so I could have stayed in the Rodin for days.
Rodin The Kiss
Aristide Maillol, Nuit, 1909
Rodin The Dancer
Camille Claudel
The Waltz, 1899-1905
Rodin The Thinker
Off to Versailles today!
Paris is all I think about it when I lay my head down at night and when the Parisian sunrise hits the window each morning, I can't wait to get back out in it. I love the language. I love the people. I love the monuments. I love the public transportation. I love it all. I've yet to find something I don't like about Paris. I love every ounce of history this city holds. Every stone, every corner, and every placard has a story. I can feel the metro rumbling the apartment floor beneath my feet now and I find myself waiting for the next train to come through like clockwork. The sirens at night are starting to sound familar and comforting. It's giddy-inducing. I think at some point Emily may grow tired all of my questions, but luckily she has an app on her phone called Paris-To-Go, which helps for the very few things she doesn't know. I have the world's best personalized tour guide. I'm trying to enjoy it while I'm here rather than looking forward to the next time I can get back.
I attended church with Emily on Sunday evening and it was amazing. The worship was impressive, the preaching spot-on and the prayers heartfelt. Emily's church meets in the Temple du Marais Ancienne église Sainte-Marie-des-Anges, which was built in the 1600's. It was awe inspiring to sit in a place of worship where the praises of God's people have echoed off the stone walls and into the heavenward rotunda for over 400 years. That doesn't happen everyday. Bonaparte himself commissioned the church as the first Protestant church in Paris in 1802. Dang. Thanks to Emily's excellent translation of the story of Jonah I was able to follow along very well!
Temple du Marais Ancienne église Sainte-Marie-des-Anges
Everytime I see yet another beautiful building, I find my heart thinks it's cheating on the first loves I have already found here. I declare each and every building to be my favorite spot in Paris about ten times a day.
L' Hotel de Ville, where the mayor resides, was automatically one of my favorite locales. I assure you it had *nothing* to do with the cute sapeurs-pompiers on the very top of the building, who were doing repairs or training of some sort, who waved down to us while we giggled and snapped photos. Nope nothing like that. I liked the building solely for it's *architecture.* Ehem.
Republique Francaise
I had no idea what all the fuss about the Arc de Triomphe was about, but after visiting, I will be making a fuss along with everyone else: the famous sculptures replete with symbolism, the sheer height and breadth of the structure and the tomb of the unknown soldier that lies beneath it were more than marvelous. The tomb is kept watch over by an eternal flame in honor of those who fought and died for France in the French Revolutionary, the Napoleonic Wars and World War I.
By far, the most memorable moment was putting two feet solidly on the massive idol of iron that is the Eiffel Tower. I climbed the Effiel Tower by myself last night and felt like a truly independant adult for the first time in my entire life. I flew to Paris on my own, to stand in a place that people dream about visiting once in a lifetime, and now I've done it. It was magical. Indescribable, really. I keep having to pinch myself to make it real. I feel incredibly blessed.
Bonne Nuit, sweet Paris. Sleep well. I'm coming back someday.
Yesterday, we walked out of Emily's apartment, crossed the street and bought a fresh, soft, delectable baguette from La Boulangerie, which basically means... the bakery. You got it. According to Emily the ritual of a daily trip to La Boulangerie is neccessary for life in France. Everyone I see is carrying bread and it's not hard to taste why. True French artisan breads contain simply good ingredients. According to one bakery's website all the breads are made with no oil, no dairy products, and no preservatives. Golden crusty baguettes tear off into soft chewy bite sized bits of yumminess while you walk. It's a problem. A *mouse* might have eaten most of our dinner baguette while Emily was a work yesterday. I wish I could have stopped it, but...
After La Boulangerie, a stop at the outdoor market was next. I think that this nation of gourmet foodies knows the secret: it doesn't have to be complicated or elaborate, it just needs to have high quality ingredients, fresh and local from from down the street. Also, the food also seems to taste better when it comes with a "Bonjour Mademoiselle!" from a handsome foreign man selling you kilos of tomatoes. Tomatoes plus sheep cheese, avocados, marche, arugula, golden raisins and pumpkin seeds made the most delicious salad I have ever had in my life. I might need to call my grandma and smack her through the phone. It was that good.
In France no one buys salad dressing, they simply make their own, and yes, it is culturally acceptable to swipe your bread in the bowl to soak up the leftover goodness, so go right ahead! Em makes her own with dijon mustard, red wine vinegar and oil. Shake it up, pour it on and proceed to make the appropriate sounds. Mhm mmm good. I'm not sure if I want to eat it or rub my face in it.
Then off to La Froumagerie, or the store that sells the cheese. I can't even talk about it. I might cry. Apparently there are over 365 types of French cheese. One for every day of the year. Some of them are even protected under French copyright laws. The cheese in France deserves it own blog. It probably already has it's own page or pages somewhere in blog land. You may go there now. I can't take time to describe it, because I'm too busy consuming this morning's purchases. Each bite is a celebration in itself. So far I agree with Brillat-Savarin who said, "A meal without cheese is a beautiful woman with an eye missing."
So, for staple foods so far, we have bread and cheese. Now we must talk about the wine. Yes please! Who needs a special occasion to toast when good wine is $4 a bottle? Unreal. My taste buds have arrived in the promise land and they ain't going back to Egypt. I know nothing about wine. Except that it's good. The end.
I hope you have enjoyed your taste of France. At least you don't have to work it off since your taste was only virutal. If you need me, I will be on the bathroom scale watching the pounds go up, whilst still eating a baguette.
*Oh yeah, and we saw Notre Dame. I don't if you've heard of it. It's kind of a big deal.
I had a delightfully fast and easy flight from D.C. last night, including the fact that United let me on with way too many bags and way too big of a carry-on. More on that story later. Topping it all off, there was an empty seat next to me to curl up in for the overnight flight. One aspirin and one Lunesta later, I was on my way to a land of cramped neck contortion and a required few hours of sleep to keep up with my first day in Paris!
My lovely little redheaded French beauty picked me up at a corner cafe on Rue de Reilly, where she proceeded to argue with the taxi driver in perfect French and arrange correct payment. Don't mess with Emily Borders. Period.
Emily and I then tag-teamed my 5 pieces of luggage and managed to haul my life up 6 sets of stairs. Whew! We no longer require a trip to the gym today, in case you were wondering. 150lbs not counting the carry-ons.
Awaiting me in her lovely little flat was what else, but a baggette, an apple and coffee. It's so Parisian!
Emily had class this morning at the Musée d'Orsay, so I tagged along with her on the Metro and wandered through the museum while she studied a few specific pieces with her classmates.
The Musée d'Orsay sits near the centre of Paris, in the vicinity of the Louvre, overlooking the banks of the Seine River. Walking along the banks this morning provided me with plenty of opportunity to "feel" like I was in Paris! The building was a former railway station, built for the Universal Exhibition of 1900, so you could probably spend all day just admiring the architecture itself. 2.9 million people passed through here last year alone, if that tells you how neat it is. Here's the pic I took before I got busted by the rent-a-cop. Whoops!
While I toured, local artists were painting their own renditions of the most famous pieces housed here, including many Van Gogh's. It was fascinating to watch a painting recreated stroke by stroke.
The collection itself is wonderful, with some VERY large pieces (think one story building), but this was my favorite piece by far. I'm a sucker for marble sculptures. Especially really emotional ones. This guy made me think. Jean-Joseph Perraud's sculpture named 'Le Désespoir' (Despair). The detail overwhelms me. He almost looks real up close.
I covered the whole museum in about 1 1/2 hours, so while I waited for Emily to get out of class, some majoring people watching was in order. Here's what I think so far:
It's a good thing black is my favorite color, cause I fit right in. EVERYONE here is wearing black. It seems Parisians have found the perfect combo of comfy yet classy. I like! No one seemed under-dressed and no one seemed over-dressed. And FYI people are nicer than the stereotype would imply.
I already got the dreaded and awkward bisou out of the way twice this morning. Bravo me.
I've yet to be pick pocketed, I've already been sung to on the Metro and it's been a beautiful sun shiny day here. Can't wait for tomorrow! Happy Friday from Paris!
About:
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Supported by her home church, Brentwood Baptist in Nashville, TN, Amy moved across the world in 2011 and accepted a volunteer missionary nursing position with Living Hope in Cape Town, South Africa, where she works with impoverished people affected by HIV, TB, cancer and other life threatening illnesses. She went on to marry Steve in 2013, and in doing so has made South Africa her second home. She now considers herself to be in a long- term cross-cultural relationship, both in marriage and in ministry. Keep reading for stories from Living Hope and from life in South Africa. Thanks for reading along!
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