Driving through the Alps in a carful of Africans
(I thought of you all a lot this weekend while I was away, so I thought you might enjoy this “running commentary” of my weekend).
Friday, 5:00 pm – Since I took the train to Lyon, I’m riding to this retreat with my missionary colleagues, Grady and Janet Smalling, their Pekingese and four African guys who talk non-stop. We leave Lyon and after about 30 minutes on the highway, we exit onto mountain roads that twist and turn as we climb higher into the Alps.
8:00 pm – We end in a ski town, in the middle of nowhere, about 5 miles from the Swiss border. The drive was long, mostly because bags were packed all around our bodies in the minivan, but the boys enjoyed it because it was the first time they’d seen mountains. We wedge ourselves out of the car to move our gear into our assigned rooms at the youth hostel the church rented. We join everyone else in the lunchroom for our brown bag dinners. Right then I find out that there is a church service that night (surprise!), and I stagger over to the main hall for the service. I’ve taken Benedryl (since I’m allergic to the Pekingese) and it’s made me really drowsy. Maybe it’s the fact that I only got five hours of sleep Thursday night, too.
12:00 am – the evening service just ended! My day actually ends at 1:00 am when my roommates finally turn off the light and get quiet. I reflect on my interaction so far with these strangers. They are mostly 20-something students. Most of them smiled and said hello, but I feel like a circus freak. They all knew I’m the guest speaker and they just sort of stared at me, not sure how much French I speak or understand. They tentatively approached with simple questions, as if to test my ability to communicate.
Saturday, 6:30 am – My day starts when the shower doors start slamming down the hall in the shower room. By 6:33 I want to go shout at them to quit slamming the wooden shower doors, but instead I figure I might as well go shower myself and show them by example how to shut a door properly.
7:30 am – Voluntary prayer. This is written on the schedule, but it’s an oxymoron. The pastor made it very clear that this is a spiritual retreat weekend, and we’d better be at prayer every morning. So I’m here, but it’s literally beyond my ability to stay awake in a semi-dark room with my eyes shut.
8:30 am – Breakfast is French style. We shoehorn ourselves into the lunchroom that’s really too small for us, but I’m so tired I think 3 people could sit in the bags under my eyes. The serving team ladles out cereal bowls of coffee for each of us. This is no exaggeration. The French drink out of cereal bowls for their morning coffee, and you dunk bread and butter into it. I’m sleepy enough I want to dunk my whole head right in, but I control myself. The coffee helps me wake up.
2:00 pm – We've had our morning service (three hours!)and we are eating lunch late, and I’m starting to get nervous about my presentations in the next hour. Even while I eat and chat with people over lunch, I’m mentally reviewing my introduction. I feel like this seminar will be the culmination of both my language studies and my entire first term in many ways.
3:30 pm – We start late. I’m sitting in the front of the room, facing 200+ young adults. I’m trying not to pick at my cuticles in nervousness. Nothing here starts until the pastor shows up, and he’s always late. Once he finally arrives, the worship leader leads a song. I wasn’t expecting that, so I mentally rearrange my presentation to accommodate the now-shorter time. Suddenly the wait is over when they hand me the mic.
4:30 pm – I’m done with the introduction. It was a bit slow starting, but I hit my stride about thirty minutes in. I start making jokes and they laugh; they’re eating out of my hand. They think I’m “trop mignonne” (too cute) with my accent and my funny mistakes. I ham it up with comic faces, shrugged shoulders, and rolling eyes.
7:00 pm – I finish. I’ve taught three separate subjects, answered a bunch of questions, and heard four former Muslims give their testimonies (all of them touching!). My voice is nearly shot. Unfortunately, everyone knows me now, so they feel very comfortable talking to me all during dinner. I drink water like a camel to ease my throat, and I’m exhausted but exhilarated. I’m halfway done.
12:00 am—bed time finally after the evening service (three hours!). I’m barely conscious and apparently, everyone else has the same problem, because lights out is 30 minutes earlier than last night.
(more tomorrow . . .)
Friday, 5:00 pm – Since I took the train to Lyon, I’m riding to this retreat with my missionary colleagues, Grady and Janet Smalling, their Pekingese and four African guys who talk non-stop. We leave Lyon and after about 30 minutes on the highway, we exit onto mountain roads that twist and turn as we climb higher into the Alps.
8:00 pm – We end in a ski town, in the middle of nowhere, about 5 miles from the Swiss border. The drive was long, mostly because bags were packed all around our bodies in the minivan, but the boys enjoyed it because it was the first time they’d seen mountains. We wedge ourselves out of the car to move our gear into our assigned rooms at the youth hostel the church rented. We join everyone else in the lunchroom for our brown bag dinners. Right then I find out that there is a church service that night (surprise!), and I stagger over to the main hall for the service. I’ve taken Benedryl (since I’m allergic to the Pekingese) and it’s made me really drowsy. Maybe it’s the fact that I only got five hours of sleep Thursday night, too.
12:00 am – the evening service just ended! My day actually ends at 1:00 am when my roommates finally turn off the light and get quiet. I reflect on my interaction so far with these strangers. They are mostly 20-something students. Most of them smiled and said hello, but I feel like a circus freak. They all knew I’m the guest speaker and they just sort of stared at me, not sure how much French I speak or understand. They tentatively approached with simple questions, as if to test my ability to communicate.
Saturday, 6:30 am – My day starts when the shower doors start slamming down the hall in the shower room. By 6:33 I want to go shout at them to quit slamming the wooden shower doors, but instead I figure I might as well go shower myself and show them by example how to shut a door properly.
7:30 am – Voluntary prayer. This is written on the schedule, but it’s an oxymoron. The pastor made it very clear that this is a spiritual retreat weekend, and we’d better be at prayer every morning. So I’m here, but it’s literally beyond my ability to stay awake in a semi-dark room with my eyes shut.
8:30 am – Breakfast is French style. We shoehorn ourselves into the lunchroom that’s really too small for us, but I’m so tired I think 3 people could sit in the bags under my eyes. The serving team ladles out cereal bowls of coffee for each of us. This is no exaggeration. The French drink out of cereal bowls for their morning coffee, and you dunk bread and butter into it. I’m sleepy enough I want to dunk my whole head right in, but I control myself. The coffee helps me wake up.
2:00 pm – We've had our morning service (three hours!)and we are eating lunch late, and I’m starting to get nervous about my presentations in the next hour. Even while I eat and chat with people over lunch, I’m mentally reviewing my introduction. I feel like this seminar will be the culmination of both my language studies and my entire first term in many ways.
3:30 pm – We start late. I’m sitting in the front of the room, facing 200+ young adults. I’m trying not to pick at my cuticles in nervousness. Nothing here starts until the pastor shows up, and he’s always late. Once he finally arrives, the worship leader leads a song. I wasn’t expecting that, so I mentally rearrange my presentation to accommodate the now-shorter time. Suddenly the wait is over when they hand me the mic.
4:30 pm – I’m done with the introduction. It was a bit slow starting, but I hit my stride about thirty minutes in. I start making jokes and they laugh; they’re eating out of my hand. They think I’m “trop mignonne” (too cute) with my accent and my funny mistakes. I ham it up with comic faces, shrugged shoulders, and rolling eyes.
7:00 pm – I finish. I’ve taught three separate subjects, answered a bunch of questions, and heard four former Muslims give their testimonies (all of them touching!). My voice is nearly shot. Unfortunately, everyone knows me now, so they feel very comfortable talking to me all during dinner. I drink water like a camel to ease my throat, and I’m exhausted but exhilarated. I’m halfway done.
12:00 am—bed time finally after the evening service (three hours!). I’m barely conscious and apparently, everyone else has the same problem, because lights out is 30 minutes earlier than last night.
(more tomorrow . . .)