October 30 - The Least, Last, and Lost Reflections

Andrea wrote a wonderful description of our time in Meina and Rome – and she actually lessoned a little of the drama and frustration of being lost in Meina! Here are just a few more thoughts and reflections that surfaced during our time in these places.

I keep looking for good news in our wanderings. I keep looking for the least, the last, the lost and what good news there might be for them. This is what our friend Kris Rocke does as he leads the Center for Transforming Mission. CTM's goal is to come along side those who are working in hard places – especially among youth to bring them true good news, training, and encouragement that they are not alone. I was surprised by the thought and realization that for the last seven years I have been doing hard work in a hard place. Kris and CTM have always been life giving for me and I have participated in many of their gatherings and trainings, but usually I didn't think of myself being and working in a hard place. I've realized that it was a very hard place. While I loved Sound Youth Counseling especially working with the staff and clients, I still am working out my time in Tacoma. Perhaps more on this later.

Our time in Meina however served to focus like a laser what it is like to be in the position of the marginalized. Meina is on the shores of Lago (Lake) Maggiore, which is very similar to Lake Como. Beautiful homes and villas on the water extending up into the hills but without a doubt the most pedestrian unfriendly place I have ever been in my life. If you had a car, it would be great – and you would be like everyone else who lives there, able to get places, able to purchase food, able to fit in. But without a car, it like Andrea suggested was a difficult, unsafe and somewhat life threatening place. This is no place for someone without a car, no place for someone poor – and while we are far from poor compared to most of the world, our time their (even with a lovely B&B) let us experience what it is like to be an outsider and not fit in, not understand.

I kept thinking of all the verses about taking in the stranger and looking after the foreigner and have a very different perspective than I did before and it's not like I hadn't thought about things like this before either! Andrea also mentioned that our experience of being in Meina is very similar to the third culture kid experience, when you are plopped down somewhere completely unknown and it's hard, yet you figure it out and keep on going. Although TCK's do this with their lives often over and over again!

The other experience that made real the least, last and lost to me took place on our first night in Rome. Andrea and I were a little tired and grumpy at each other, needing some sleep and a little space after being continually on the go. We went back to the central Rome train station which in addition to trains also has many restaurants and stores. We were getting in line to check out of the grocery store when we noticed a girl ahead of us in line whose face was so covered in piercings it floored me and made my petty complaints just vanish. It wasn't just that she was a human pin cushion, she was obviously in a bad way, drugged and slumped over. She was standing in line with a man but was literally falling asleep standing up. He would shake her every now and again when she started to slump more towards the ground. I wanted to take a picture but it would have been so violating to her and everyone was already violating her with their stares. I don't know what we could have done. Andrea and I walked back to where we were staying in silence. I quickly scribbled down these words on the back of a receipt.

I'm sorry it took you

I'm sorry it took you
to wake me from my stupor
break me out of my funk
shock me out of my shallow selfishness

Right in front of me
at the check out stand
with a man, cigarette hanging from his lips, buying cheap wine,
steadying you so wouldn't fall down

If your eyes had been open
you would have known the stares of everyone in the store
perhaps you already felt them
perhaps that's why your eyes were closed

Under 20, maybe 15 – barely holding on, barely human
Drugged, high, swaying
Dirty, baggy clothes covering most of you
But what was visible...

Hands, scarred; nails, blackened nubs
mostly shaved head except for a few magenta strands
piercings covering your face
Ears, lips eyes, nose, cheeks – far, far too many to count

Grotesque
Spectacle
Awful
Stunning
Sad
Beauty – horribly scarred
God's image
Maybe Jesus
in the flesh
wrapped in your own stupor to break me from mine
But I'm sorry it took you.

Isaiah 53

Duncan

October 27-29, The Travesties of Our Time in Rome Part II

Fifth travesty of our time in Rome – I was wearing dirty socks when I saw the Pope. Our friend, Julie had told me before we left, about the papal audiences on Wednesdays at the Vatican and when we arrived in Rome we trotted over to Santa Sussanna church to get (free) tickets. Incidentally the priest who gave us our tickets and we chatted with (Father Greg) we had seen on the Today show several years earlier doing an interview with Matt Lauer in front of St. Peter's on The Da Vinci Code. He of course didn't tell us this, but there was a little write up on Fr. Greg in some literature we picked up and then we both remembered seeing him. He had a good sense of humor about the whole thing while still towing the party line.

So Wednesday morning we catch the metro at 8:30, even though we were told to be at St. Peter's at 8:30 (two hours ahead) to get a good seat. The Metro was packed and it literally took three trains coming and going before our part of the crowd could push ourselves on. Fortunately being as tall as I am I do not have to have my face in someone else's armpit, unfortunately the reverse is true and someone else's nose is in my armpit. I also had momentary panic when I thought the police officer behind me was getting fresh with me but this was relieved when I realized that the perpetrator was a woman's handbag.

We arrived at St. Peter's around 9 am to an already large gathered crowd, waited in line for security, and then entered the grounds and selected a seat. The square was full of chairs and an awning was set up on the stairs on St. Peter's. The Pope arrived at 10:30 in his pope mobile, surrounded by Swiss guards and made several laps waving to the crowd. We all stood on our chairs in order to see which had the affect of making everyone only see the pope's head magically and swiftly move around the square. The pope mobile then rolled up to the awning and dropped the Pope off and then disappeared. The reading from 1 Corinthians was read in 6 different languages by six different cardinals (Italian, French, English, German, Spanish, Russian). The Pope then gave a message in Italian. The six different cardinals then each read the names of those groups, or churches gathered, in their countries respective languages. Every time a large group's name was read they erupted in shouts of joy, some even singing a verse of a song or playing instruments, which became even louder when the Pope did a special greeting in each of the six languages and would mention some of the groups that He was particularly pleased were there.

And the dirty socks you ask? Well this happens often when you only have 2 pairs of black socks and you're walking around in the black sock/shoe nations of Europe everyday. So while I'm used to this, it just didn't feel right to see the Pope in my dirty socks. :)

After the audience we thought that the crowd would probably head into St. Peter's so we decided to walk to the Pantheon instead. For some reason this is one of my favorite sites in Rome. The grand scale of this 2,000 year old building takes my breath away, especially the oculus which is 30 feet across. I would have loved to see what happened to all that water that came pouring through the ceiling in the storm, because the drainage system for the Pantheon is probably a better design than our modern version.

On our walk to and from the Pantheon we passed through Piazza Navona and noticed a huge police presence and some destruction in the piazza. We had seen a protest the day before at the Colosseum by students who were protesting school reform so we knew it was the same thing, but the police were gathered around a particular building in their riot gear and had a do not cross line. We stopped at a nearby tourist information booth and asked what was going on. The Senate, in the protected building had voted that morning to accept the school reform. The crowd completely protested and it ended in some property destruction and tear gas. The government is trying to cut education budgets across the board from elementary education to graduate research. One Italian citizen explained to us that part of the problem is that Berlusconi didn't and won't tax property (which dramatically decreases revenue especially from the upper class) and because of this the government has run out of money and has to cut things - education being the target. The particularly interesting thing is that the Italian government is trying to sell the reforms as good because they will be like the US education system. The Education Minister has even said that these reforms are very similar to Obama's education plan. The problem as Italian citizens see it is that they currently have the best public education system in Europe and it is no comfort to be told they're going to be like the US.

After being informed we went on our way back to St. Peter's to see the church. After some debate because the line was still incredibly long we decided to bite the bullet and go in. Big mistake!!! I have never been anywhere more crowded. It felt like we were back on the subway. There were soo many tour groups and they would just stop in front of something the guide was describing and block the entire route. They all looked incredibly bored. I wondered why they were there. Because it was so crowded the guards were ushering anyone not in a group to move along, essentially making it impossible to stop and look at anything. We were so frustrated and we just got out which is disappointing when you are in the largest most magnificent church in all of christendom. We did manage to make our way to the less crowded crypt but again because it was busy we were simply ushered through without being able to stop and look at anything.

We left and went home. The redeeming part of night was having a great smoothie and apple crisp back at the Beehive's cafe with some great conversation about the protests with Valentina the chef for the night. We also were able to hang out and talk with Damien, a fellow dormer on a year long trip from Australia. He was in Thailand a short while ago and plans to go back in January so we will hopefully meet up with him again. He was especially kind to us and took pity on our lack of a card reader and downloaded our pictures for us – thus the reason our blog suddenly has pictures. We plan on buying our own card reader in South Africa next week.

On our last morning in Rome before we were to catch our train, I was inspired to try to see Bernini's St. Teresa in Ecstasy statue in the church of Santa Maria della Vittoria, a short 15 minute walk from the Beehive. I left Duncan to finish packing and headed out only to realize a few blocks later that there were massive protests about the school reform decision going on. I made it through the crowd to Piazza d. Repubblica, only three blocks from the church but simply couldn't go any further. The square and all of the surrounding blocks were completely filled with people. The protest was well organized. There were many banners and huge amounts of balloons that spelled out the people's disgust with the school reform decision. Having been inside the Beehive most of the morning with no clue what was going on I felt a bit like Emperor Nero playing the violin while Rome burned. I went back to the Beehive to tell Duncan to go check it out. We heard that the people's disgust with the decision made the union(s) call for a strike which would mean that the metro would only run in the morning to get people to work and then in the evening to get them home again (however we were unable to confirm this). No strikes or protests affected our train travel out of Rome.

Andrea

October 27-29, The Travesties of Our Time in Rome Part I

Rome just might be my favorite city ever. I love the life of the city and that around every corner is another piece of incredible history. I also love that the city is a real city – overcrowded, graffitied, smelly and generally inhospitable until you learn its ways. But once you learn its ways the city is glorious.

We hopped on the train in Arona and arrived in Rome in the afternoon.

The first travesty of Rome is not Rome's fault – we did not have much time budgeted for this magnificent city – only 3 nights. We tried to get 4 nights but our hotel was full and we couldn't manage (mentally) finding another hotel for just one night.

The second travesty of our time in Rome (this is Rome's fault) – accommodation is EXPENSIVE. We thought this was even more true about Rome than it was about Paris. Because we couldn't find any doubles in our price range, Rome became our first experiment with the dorm. Fortunately for us we found (through Rick Steves book) The Beehive which advertised their dorms as quiet – with quiet hours. We booked it and were very pleasantly surprised that it was great (for a dorm). Duncan had some trouble sleeping the first night but was exhausted enough the next two to sleep well. I, surprisingly slept like a baby all nights.

Third travesty of our time in Rome – to the Wilson's, the Colosseum is overrated – the true gems are the Forum and Palatine Hill. This travesty really stems from both our dislike of huge, disrespectful, unmanageable crowds and paying a lot of money. I had been here once before and had some fuzzy memories, mostly of being annoyed that I couldn't hear the tour guide. The Colosseum is interesting and makes for a great picture, but because its image is so accessible and identifiable, if you know its history it (to me) does not add much to my image to physically be there fighting through crowds. The interesting part of being at the Colosseum for Duncan and I was following around a Thai group and Duncan eavesdropping on their tour.

What was incredibly interesting and made the ticket to the Colosseum worth it was the Forum and Palatine Hill. It's incredible to stroll the streets of the Forum and imagine Caesar walking the same route. One particularly impressive building was the HUGE basilica that Constantine had built. The scale was also impressive on Palatine hill. You can completely imagine the gardens and flowing fountains from the palatial ruins in front of you. On one hilltop we were able to see Circus Maximus below us, a oval shaped track for chariot races, that could hold up to 250,000 spectators!!!

Fourth travesty of our time in Rome – open bus tour in the biggest rain storm in 15 years. To get the lay of the land we bought tickets for the hop-on-hop-off bus tour around Rome. We hopped off at the Colosseum and did our tour. When we hopped back on and began our way back to Termini train station we encountered torrential rain. Because it had been raining earlier in the day, I bought a cheap umbrella from one of the many men (mostly if not all immigrants) trying to make some money to live. I bargained him down to a 'special price' especially for me – right. . . :) Of course by the time its pouring my special price umbrella already has one part of its fabric cover detached from the frame. We were soaked!!! Being good citizens of whatever country we happen to be in, we dutifully took home as much water as we could carry in our shoes, socks, and pant legs. Who knew that jeans have capillary action and suck up water like a straw? :) Apparently it rained 3 inches and areas of Rome were completely flooded and some roads impassable.


Andrea

October 24 - 27; Meina, Italy

We arrived in Meina sometime in the afternoon and were picked up at the train station by Bianca, our gracious host for the next three nights, however we didn't realize she was our host. We had been invited to Meina to attend the Youth Compass conference by our friend Thomas Speckhardt when he heard we would be in Italy around the time of the conference. While the cost of the conference was certainly not high especially for the facilities and speaker they provided, it was outside of our budget. Realizing this, Tom offered to let us attend the conference for free if we could find our own accommodation. I did some online research and found a bed and breakfast that was in Meina. I google mapped their address and it said it was only 1 km from the conference hotel, so we booked it, and told Tom our happy news. Up until the day of our arrival all of our communication with the B&B had been over email with a woman named Laura in broken English. No problem – we appreciated the English and could understand everything that she was saying.

Then on the day of our arrival in Meina before we left our other hotel we received an email asking about our train arrival and a cryptic message saying “Bianca = Laura mother.” We figured this meant that Bianca, Laura's mother, would pick us up at the train station and sure enough that was true. What we didn't realize was that Bianca was really our host and that Laura would never materialize. In retrospect we assume that Laura was helping her mom out with her English speaking guests. Bianca was super warm regardless of not being able to communicate this in speech and as she drove us to the B&B she pointed out interesting things along the way. About 10 minutes into the trip I started to get nervous – this was a LONG car ride for only being .5 mile from the station. When we arrived and after Bianca showed us the room and left us to unpack, I turned to Duncan and said, 'Umm. . . she took us the long tourist route right, to point things out to us?' To which Duncan replied, 'Yeah, it had to be.' Well, no this would not be true. . .

That night we left to walk to the opening dinner of the conference. We had found a map and took it to Bianca for her to point out where we were on it, only to find her confused and pointing to one area and shrugging. Hmmm, this should have been our first clue. We thought that her shrugging meant that maybe she wasn't a good map reader and didn't quite know where she was. We also assumed that because of this the area that she identified as our location, was incorrect. It was way too far from the conference! :) So we chose where we think we were on the map and set off.

First problem: no sidewalks, skinny streets and very fast drivers!!! First we walk 30 minutes in one direction only to decide it is wrong and turn around. Then we walk the 30 minutes back and another 20 minutes in another direction. By this time it is completely dark and it is particularly dangerous. In all this walking we haven't seen one street sign and we are surrounded by villas with locked imposing gates and LARGE barking dogs. We are the only walkers we have seen and every person that passes us in their car stares at us until they speed past. We have no idea where we are and are hungry!!!

I was feeling particularly freaked out by the cars and having no idea where we were and rather pouty about the food situation, so Duncan left me sitting at the one bus stop we saw and went forth into the darkness. He returned 20 minutes later having found a pizza place and gotten the confirmation on where we were – far away. We decided to give up on the conference for the night and instead get some food. We ordered two (small) pizzas thinking we would be able to take some back to our B&B as we would have nothing to eat after the conference ended and we hadn't seen a grocery store. We ate half of each pizza and were quite pleased that we would have a whole pizza to take home with us. I looked up how to say 'doggie bag' which translates as 'take-away.' Our waitress came by and asked if we'd like the pizza 'take-away' to which I confirmed. Well, apparently my 'take-away/box/doggie bag' really meant take it away off the table we're finished. We paid our bill and then thought, maybe they'll bring it to us. Waited. . . nothing. Finally we got up and Duncan tried to ask in English on the way out. . . nothing. We realized our mistake. The combination of not knowing where we were, realizing that the whole intention of coming to Meina was to go to the Youth Compass conference, and that we were literally miles from it, getting run down on the road and then not understanding language or customs enough to get our pizza to take home was too much for me. I made it out of the restaurant before I started to wimper and then all out cry. We made it home and promptly went to bed.

The next day we set out determined to get to the conference but our map was not particularly accurate. Streets that physically existed were not on the map and the ones that were important roads on the map, labeled with street names, had no marking whatsoever on the physical street. We made several mistakes and backtracked before we happened on the right route through intuition, having nothing to do with our map. We arrived for the conference that had been in full swing for several hours just before lunch.

All in all the conference was great. Third culture kids (someone who has spent a significant amount of time in one or more culture(s) other than his or her own, thus integrating elements of those cultures and their own birth culture, into a third culture) is a population that has significant needs that are not being met. Being married to a TCK I came to the conference with a good understanding of the unique TCK perspective of the world and some of the issues of loneliness and identity that come with this territory. However, I found it particularly interesting how the TCK perspective manifests itself today with technology and that as globalization occurs how many TCKs there are/will be. We met some great people working with TCKs in Europe and had an amazing dinner on an island that involved an hour boat ride on Lake Maggiore. And, very important to me and my health, everything had worked out with Medtronic sending my new insulin pump (to replace the battery eating monster of a pump) to my parents who were able to give it to Tom before he left the States for the conference. He had graciously carted the pump to the conference and graciously carted the old one back to the States so that my parents are able to send it back to Medtronic to clear the $4000 charge from my account. (If this makes no sense to you, read an earlier post about the first diabetic problem of our trip).

Saturday night after the amazing island dinner we readily accepted a merciful ride home since it was late and very dark. Sunday morning we did the walk to the conference for the first time knowing exactly where we were. The conference ended that afternoon and we were again graciously given a ride to the Arona (the bigger town next to Meina) train station to make train reservations for Rome the next day. Walking a couple of miles home from Arona made us realize that our B&B was exactly between Meina and Arona – not in Meina, despite its address. The walk home was hard – mostly uphill, again no sidewalks, skinny roads, and fast cars, but we were able to stop at the HUGE statue of St. Charles Borromeo (Sancarlone). It was one of the largest bronze standing statues in the world, second only to the Statue of Liberty. It is also said that the architects of the Statue of Liberty consulted the plans for Sancarlone before laying out their own. We also explored the San Carlo church with a great historical exhibit including prints from Leonardo da Vinci inventions.

We arrived home in the late afternoon and decided to relax. Duncan started a fire, making sure to open the flue like Bianca showed us. The room immediately filled with smoke!!! We had to open the door and windows which of course let all the mosquitoes in. We then closed the door and windows but the room would again fill with smoke. At some point my eyes were burning so bad that I went and sat in the bathroom. I came out to get my book to read and saw Duncan preparing to roast the chestnuts he had picked up along the walk. I said, 'Please don't roast the chestnuts, I think it will just add more smoke to the room,' and walked back into the smoke-free bathroom. About 5 minutes later I hear an explosion and a sound like marbles dropping and rolling along the floor. I quickly walked out into the living room to see chestnuts all over the floor. Duncan looked at me and then burst into laughter. In between gasping for air he managed to tell me that he didn't know that chestnuts exploded if you didn't turn them and that one had beaned him in the head. :)

The next morning of our departure to Rome our ever hospitable host, Bianca, drove us to Arona. We were dismayed to learn after all our failed communication attempts on both sides with mad flipping through English/Italian dictionaries that she spoke French very well. I was able to understand everything she was saying to me now, despite not being able to respond with fluency. C'est dommage (It's a pity)!!! We had a very pleasant conversation on the way to the station. Arriving at the station early, Bianca invited us a short distance away to a cafe to get coffee as her treat. We drank our frothy cappuccinos and continued our broken French conversation. She then escorted us to the station, told us which track to go to, and sent us off with a kiss on each cheek. Later that day she sent us an email in all capital letters and broken dictionary English saying how much she enjoyed us coming and that we should send her a postcard from Seattle. (We weren't able to explain to her that we just started a big trip.) When you're a traveler and find a host with the gift of hospitality it can make up for a lot of ills (no sidewalks, no doggie bags, smoke filled room, and an exploding chestnut wound to the head). Bianca was wonderful, gracious, caring, had a sense of humor and attacked something new (English) with gusto. We liked her a lot.

Andrea

Thursday, October 23 - Levanto and Cinque Terre

Monday morning, after a quick day and two nights in Venice we caught the train back up to Milan and then across to the opposite coast to Levanto, the town just to the north of the famed Cinque Terre village/towns. We stayed at L'Erba Persa, an agriturisimo (B&B run by a local farmer/family.) We unfortunately had failed to print our our reservation confirmation or a map – even a phone number of our home for the next four days. Fortunately there was a map at the station with it marked on it, so I set out in what turned out to be the right direction and soon enough found Claudio the farmer of the home who quickly hopped in his car with me and returned to the station to pick Andrea and the bags up.

So this place is grand – a large 18th century not quite in its prime anymore typical italian nobility house. Not sure how else to describe it. Claudio lives here along with his wife Grazia and two kids, Sirio and Fiamma and 18 cats, a handful of dogs, couple donkeys/burros, one horse, 28 hens – currently on strike and not laying. The grounds are expansive with greenhouses, vegetable gardens with which he supplies local restaurants and 500 olive trees. Duncan has found his happy place. As soon as I started exploring, Claudio showed me his 18 different kinds of mimosa/acacia trees in the grounds. On Tuesday I found him washing olives in a greenhouse and he immediately asked if I wanted to go see one of the olive presses in town. Olive harvest is in full swing at the moment. He hopes to get 5-6000 liters of olive oil from his 500 trees this year. Yesterday he told me, that he was hoping to pick 500 kilos of olives as he had booked the press for today. I went and helped for about an hour shaking the olives off a branch either with a long bamboo pole or picking them by hand. I maybe supplied a kilo or two! This is hard work.

Levanto is very much a real town, bigger than the more tourist driven Cinque Terre five. We have wandered around, sat on the beach, ate gelato, had a wonderful meal Monday night that friends Dave Hillis and Kris Rocke would have been rightly proud of. Mmmm! So good! Wednesday we started the hike from the northern most CT town to the next one and quickly realized we didn't have the oomph to walk the entire trail to the last one (7miles total) so we caught the train on the next leg and walked the final two legs which are much more flat. Pretty spectacular coastal scenery.


Duncan

Sunday, October 19 – Switzerland to Italy

Buon Giorno from Italy. We wrote some thoughts from our experience at San Marco's already. Yesterday, we traveled from Reinach via Bern down to Italy. Lotte went with us as far as Bern as she was teaching German to 12-15 Thai women there. Lotte is quite involved working with Thai women in Switzerland. There are upwards of 10,000 Thai women who have come to Switzerland to marry Swiss men. Though not technically trafficked it is still frequently a sad saga for many of them. Switzerland is not Thailand, German is difficult to learn for many. Marriages often do not work out. If they have been in Switzerland long enough to be legal they can stay, so there are many Thai women alone with or without children. I think that Lotte said that most often the women get custody of the children, but I could have misunderstood. Lotte and many others including another OMF 'auntie,' who actually lives in Germany but crosses over to Switzerland, are spending much time with Thai women serving as a resource for them. There is even a magazine published for them in Thai (and maybe German.)

So after waving goodbye to Lotte in Bern we quickly entered a 15 minute tunnel and then as we encountered daylight, we also magically were in Italy. Initial impressions were quite a contrast from well kept Switzerland in terms of asthetic appearance. In some ways, for those who have ever crossed the border from Thailand into Burma, it is a similar feeling. Somewhat startling at first, but there is a beauty that grows and captivates from the towns and villages with their red tile roofs to the rolling and sometimes hilly countryside. We changed trains in Milan and continued to Venice eventually finding our Hotel Dalla Mora late into the evening. By the way, every place we have stayed at so far is a gem (OK Paris was a little more of a shoe box with a bathroom the size of a real shoebox – but still adequate and clean) – we have not been disappointed anywhere. Our room in Venice looked right over a quiet canal. Great breakfast. Sunday we spent wandering and exploring Venice, finding a good pizza and calzone place and beginning an ongoing Gelato exploration as well.

Duncan

Sunday, October 19 – Venice, San Marco Reflections

The sensory experience is so important and moving to me. Smells, sounds, sight all have a powerful affect on me. Today I am thankful for sight and sound especially. Today I relished in the sensory and it was a good thing. We had made our way through the narrow alleys and corridors in Venice, over numerous bridges including the Rialto, crowded with tourists on this Sunday. We got to the San Marco Square – also busting with tourists and visitors (and this is October?!!) While the line stretched for a great length out the front door of San Marco Basilica, we quietly slipped inside a side door for the noon mass along with locals and other visitors in the know. The towering ceiling and walls are covered in gold mozaics of biblical images (perhaps Byzantine style – someone help me out here!) (Just as an aside, the Friday before we left Seattle, I briefly stopped into Mars Hill Graduate School (www.mhgs.edu) in their beautiful building in downtown Seattle. Oh, we have come a long way from when it was Western Seminary in a Bothell Business Park! The current MHGS students don't know how nice they have it! Anyway, currently beautifully displayed is a collection of 10-13 icons of Jesus by a local Northwest artist. Depending on where you start, either the first or the last piece of art is simply a framed mirror with the words from 2 Corinthians 3:18 underneath. “We who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever increasing glory, which comes from the Lord.” Being somewhat startled at seeing my own face and reading these words was very moving to me knowing that somehow in spite of who I am, in spite of my brokenness, in spite of whatever struggles I may be facing – somehow I am being transformed so my face is more reflective of the face of Jesus. All this to say, if you are in Seattle and can stop by and see it, it is well worth it)).

So back in Venice, we took our seats as the service was just beginning. My eyes wandered, continually finding new details – even the flooring here is exquisite and famous for its mosaics. I'm a long way from anywhere I have been before. It is noon here, 3AM back in the Northwest. Soon Pastor Ron will be getting up and beginning his early morning tour of Tacoma before he leads his gathering at the Salishan Eastside Lutheran Mission in East Tacoma where we have attended for the past year and a half. We are a long way from the small village churches and home gatherings in North Thailand where I grew up, where if you weren't careful a cat might steal communion as everything was served on the floor. We are a long way from the prosperity preaching mega churches broadcast ad nauseum on tv in the US. And yet here we are – somehow one body, joined together, saints and sinners at the same time, gathered in one name to seek our God and Savior. Many many different styles but as we stand and walk the marbled floors of this church that has stood here since the 11th century we join in singing Praise to the Lord the Almighty the King of Creation which was sung majestically by an invisible choir. There is something sacred in the ritual (Aclamad la gloria y el poder del Senor), something honoring in the guilded and gold images and icons that tell an ancient story that reminds me that this is an ongoing journey we are on. I am grateful that The Word continues to go forth. And I am especially grateful for an hour of peace before we step out into the crowds on the San Marco Piazza that are still waiting to get into the church.

Duncan