Darryl Smelser

Japan Part 2: Final Day of our Big Adventure

2011-12-20T01:47:00.023-05:00

As with the initial leg of our trip, our flight returning to the US also included an all day layover in Tokyo, allowing some Japanese bonus adventure. The overnight flight from Bangkok to Tokyo lost 2 hours traveling east across time zones, and the 3 hours of sleep we got on the plane might have been enough at the beginning of the trip, but not near the end. So we promptly crashed for 2 more hours of rest in the Tokyo terminal before heading out for our second, and final, day of Japanese sightseeing.

The first day of our trip was spent in Tokyo; for this last day of our trip we elected to head out of the city, to the Hakone National Park area. It’s about 90 minutes out of the city by train, and within view of Mt. Fuji. Arriving in the town of Hakone, we got lunch before switching trains. We decided to save money on this meal, and picked up prepared microwaveable meals in the 7-11 there. It was good though, mine was with shrimp. And yes, they have 7-11s all over Japan and Thailand, maybe the most common business we saw! Then we caught a little train that zigzagged up the mountains until we got to the little town of Gora. From there we took an incline railway about a mile up to Sounzan, and the views were getting really nice. At Sounzan, we switched to a gondola lift that takes its passengers up and over the exploded remains of the Hakone Volcano Kamiyama. Steam continually escapes the ragged cavity at the top of the mountain.

Then the gondola crests the far side of the mountain top, and Mt. Fuji comes into view in the distance. The top was ringed by clouds at our first view, and the gondola took us down to Lake Ashinoko, a crater lake 4 miles long, formed along the caldera wall of the volcano. The tour boats that traverse the lake are replicas of seventeenth century man-of-war pirate ships! They seem kind of out of place, and the Japanese kid aboard in a pirate costume really didn’t look quite right, but it all added a fun aspect to things.

At the far end of the lake we chose to walk a section less than a mile long before catching a bus. Along the way we walked the path of the old Tokaido highway from the 1600’s, built in the Edo period (photo below). It was lined by Cedar trees, and those same cedars still line the road today. Reportedly, the road appears today just as it did in the 1600’s . . . though the trees would have been shorter the first few decades!

Finally caught the bus, then the train, and returned to Tokyo’s Haneda Airport with a couple of hours to relax, eat, and get online before boarding our overnight flight back to LAX and home.

Our whole trip has been a great adventure. But then international trips always are. :)

(Accessing the internet at Haneda Airport, with our airplane and jetway in the background)

Final Day in Bangkok

2011-12-18T01:22:00.011-05:00

Our overnight train from Laos brought us back to Bangkok at about 8 in the morning on Thursday. Some of the people we met/saw on the trains: a young American/Thai/Lao family of four going back to visit relatives, an older German man who talked incessantly, a middle-aged German who lives in Laos and treats the locals with typically German disrespect, an American from Hawaii, a group of Irish 30-something women who drank and stayed up late, a number of other western backpackers, and various Thais and Laos.

Ying picked us up at the Bangkok train station, along with her friend Soda (or Da, for short). They took us around on some final sightseeing, first to an old military ship in a park near the mouth of the Chao Phraya River, where it opens into the Gulf of Thailand. We were free to meander through the whole ship.

Leaving the park, we spotted a big reptile on the side of the little road and stopped to take pictures. Daniel classified it as a monitor lizard. Its length was 4-5 feet.

Next, Ying and Da took us to a spot to catch a ferry across the wide mouth of the Chao Phraya to a market area. Loads of fresh seafood, some dried, some still breathing and jumping out of their displays onto the surrounding floor space, where they were quickly picked up and returned to their displays. In addition to the seafood, other meats, also lots of produce of kinds both familiar and exotic, and the spices that give the flavor to the Thai dishes we’ve been enjoying. A few pictures here, more in a Facebook album labeled Final Day in Bangkok.

The four of us then stopped at a little sidewalk restaurant for lunch, good food as always. After lunch we headed back to Jai and Ying’s home, and Jai and I were able to have a very good and meaningful conversation about some of the things I wrote about earlier.

As evening approached, Daniel and I were invited along with Jai and Ying to the home of another couple from the church there, for supper. Like Jai’s house, theirs was also a fairly large home with nice features, but I noticed there was almost no furniture visible. Nearly all of it was still upstairs, where they had moved it in preparation for the flooding that recently plagued central Thailand. Their home didn’t suffer, but there was no way to be sure ahead of time how bad the flooding would get in any particular area.

Finally, we departed, Jai and Ying driving us out to the airport for our late-night, overnight flight to Tokyo. We would still have the following day in Japan, but at this point we felt our trip beginning to come to a close. In the airport we changed our Thai baht into dollars and yen, and said goodbye to our new Thai friends Jai and Ying.

(some of the spices that give so much flavor to Thai cooking)

A Few Little Tokens

2011-12-16T09:03:00.005-05:00

There will still be another post for a broad general audience, but this one is for my nieces in particular.

I picked up 7 jade bracelets in the market at Yangon Myanmar, one for each of you, including my newest niece, in Odessa. Since I won't see you all together for quite some time, the first one to check my blog gets first choice! I'll have a private entry on my facebook page, visible to family only, where you can stake your claim. :)

By the way, for some reason A and C look darker and duller than they actually are.

Click pic to enlarge.

()

Laos for Lunch

2011-12-15T05:09:00.009-05:00

Well, the side trip to Laos just kept getting shorter and shorter. (photo: Mekong River; Laos on near side, Thailand on far side) We had intended to spend a night or even two in and around Vientiane, Laos’s capitol city. Spend some time in town, and some time in the area out and away from town. But trains and buses have a very limited schedule (3 trains per day, but all within a couple hours of each other, in the evening; all overnight trains), and things kept us from leaving until Tuesday night; and our flight out of Bangkok to Tokyo on Thursday evening precludes us from staying in Laos Wednesday night. Additionally, we had to choose the earliest return train the following evening, as tickets were sold out on the others. So, we would arrive at 8 a.m. next to the Laotian border, then cross and find ourselves in Vientiane, and we would have to meet the early return train at 6:20 pm. So at least we would have 9 hours or so.

Alas, it was not to be. Our train left Bangkok quite late, and then lost more time en route to the border. Our overnight train ended up arriving at the border area after 10 am instead of 8 am. So essentially, we ran around a little in Vientiane, ate lunch, ran around a little more, paid a fine to a police officer that will never reach the books, and headed back for the train station.

The running around was fun though. Right after enjoying mango slushies at the first little stop we made in Vientiane (and they were much better than ordinary slushies), we rented motorbikes. We’d been seeing hordes of motorbikes everywhere we went, and seeing how advantageously they weave through stopped or slow traffic, so at $6 apiece for several hours of use, we took the chance to rent them and have some fun. We explored upriver a couple miles along the Mekong, which separates Laos and Thailand. There we found the Kong View restaurant. Pricey by local standards ($23 total for the two of us), but the food was great. I had Fresh Mekong River Fish, fried, served with a spicy sauce and a sweet and sour sauce, and also a plate of 4 spring rolls stuffed with pork and shrimp. And they had internet access so I could post my Sunday/Monday entry.

Then it was back on the motorbikes exploring somewhat blindly through town, and eventually it was time we figured out how to get back to where we had rented them. Lots of one-way streets in the area. Making a u-turn just before reaching an intersection, I wondered if this were a one-way street. But then, we had seen PLENTY of motorbikes going the wrong way or on the wrong side in each country we’ve visited – they seem to have a universal exemption. So I wasn’t that worried. But then all those others weren’t Americans, who are ripe targets for extortion. As it happened, we found out quickly that it was indeed one-way, and NOT the way we were now progressing. Our progress was stopped short by a couple of uniforms on foot who said we would have to go to court the next day. Of course that was not in the cards for us, as we MUST be in Bangkok tomorrow for our evening flight to Tokyo and then to home. So they eventually said we could just pay them on the spot (which I’m sure they had in mind from the start), 80,000 Kip each ($10 US). We knew this was not an official transaction, so we also knew it was negotiable. We started out requesting 80,000 both together, and they eventually came down to 100,000 together. But we didn’t have enough Kip, so we figured that was close enough to $10 US, offered it, and after their own consultation, they accepted the $10 bill and gave us our passports back.

Finally it was back to the motorbike rental place, then to a taxi, then to the border, then across the border and to the Nong Khai train station where we caught our train back to Bangkok. It’s a dirty old train (same kind as last night), but it has sleeper cars (as last night), so we like it. Against any expectation, Daniel spotted an electrical outlet between the seats, so I’m plugged in and typing this up as we ride back toward Bangkok.

Sunday and Monday in Bangkok

2011-12-14T01:43:00.011-05:00

I’d been looking forward to this leg of the trip for different reasons than for the other areas on the itinerary, as there is a church here in Bangkok. A young Thai Christian is attending boarding school in Pennsylvania, and attends the assemblies of the church where my brother Jeff is, and so I had been put in contact with this young man’s father, Jai. He is a deacon in the church here in Bangkok. Jai in fact invited me to preach, and that turned out to be an invitation to preach in their morning assembly, teach their Bible class for English speaking members, and then preach again in the evening.

Our initial face to face meeting came at the Bangkok airport, when Jai and his wife Ying picked up Daniel and me, to spend the night in their home. They are a very kind, hospitable, and welcoming couple – Ying had snacks for us as soon as we got in the car – and they are eminently likeable! (speaking of Jai and Ying, not the snacks! -although the snacks weren't bad)

Activities on Sunday with the brethren consume the whole day, though we took absence part of the time and explored the market areas near the meeting place, buying some street food to satisfy our hunger. The church here engages in some things I can’t conscientiously participate in, and that led to some awkwardness, and also a bit of regret on both sides, but it was a very enjoyable day otherwise.

In the morning assembly, I preached about the secularization of churches – that they miss their God-given mission when they adopt secular activities not authorized; I also briefly outlined my approach to determining what the mission of the church is.

The English speaking class was made up of an American who lives here, several Phillippinos, a Liberian who’s on a soccer team here, a girl also of African descent though I missed what country she is from, and a few others of unknown nationality, plus Daniel and me. Instead of just teaching my own topic of some kind, I asked if they perhaps had questions they would like to discuss. The first concerned non-Christians partaking of the Lord’s Supper – the questioner said he had observed a lack of teaching about this in the church here in regard to long-term visitors. The second question was from a Phillippino girl who is dating a Muslim: “Is it sinful to marry a non-Christian?” There was much good discussion about this question with really good comments from several people, and I think the girl involved decided not to make any commitments too quickly. That discussion then led into a discussion of divorce and remarriage: another good discussion, in which some learned that a person might legitimately remarry if they put away their spouse for adultery. It was a good class.

In the evening, I preached from Philippians, talking about personal conflict (Euodia and Syntoche), and all the aspects of the epistle which relate to that personal conflict. It’s a study of the letter that I really enjoy, and only discovered about 4 years ago. And it’s applicable in any church where interpersonal problems might occur . . . which, I think, means any church, period.

A final word about preaching that day: my translator was a young man who has just returned to Bangkok after studying at the Sunset School of Preaching. His English was very good, but he was also very good at conveying my tone: gestures and emphasis were carried very well in the translation – not that I noticed it, as I was focused more on what I was saying, not what he was saying. But Daniel relayed that report to me. It’s great to work with a great translator (which I also enjoy with Andres back in Long Beach).

By the evening assembly, a young just-married coupled had returned from their wedding in the States – she’s American, he’s Thai. In the announcements, it was revealed to everyone that her maiden name is the same as my last name, Smelser! The translation through headphones was a little slow, so the first I knew of this was as the new husband got up and stepped back to our pew (they were sitting right in front of us), asking whether my last name were indeed Smelser. I replied yes, and he said his wife’s name was also! Quite a surprise.

Jai and I both want to discuss my matters of conscience before I leave, but the opportune time to do that (Tuesday evening, right now as I am writing) turned out to be a time he was not available after all. He was going to be traveling with us right now, but then it turned out he needed to stay home. I don’t want to leave without talking with him more in depth about those things.

More about the street food: Bangkok is famous for it! Stalls and carts occupy the sidewalks, and food is cooked on the spot: shrimp, pork, chicken, squid, fish, fried bananas, and vegetables as well. Fresh fruit is sold in cut pieces: watermelon, mango, pineapple, etc. Whole meals over noodles or rice are also available in some of these areas. One can spend more money than planned, walking along these sidewalks!

On Monday, we went and toured , a canal area with floating markets. Shops line either side of the canal, with food also being prepared, cooked, and sold on the narrow boats. Really cool area. We chartered a boat for $5, bought food from another boat (photo), and ate as we were taken out into the nearby river. Upriver maybe a mile, we disembarked to explore an old fort, where there was (of course) another Buddhist structure with another Buddha inside. There were also animals at this location: goats, a mongoose, a porcupine of some sort, pheasants (our kind and an Asian kind), monkeys, a black bear, Asian deer, etc. On the way back we stopped at yet another Buddha site – this time with an incredibly carved wooden interior. It was truly intricate and magnificent work.
The wooden floor planks were 3-4 feet wide, and ran 30 to 40 feet long, solid, the length of the building. Came from some big trees.

On the way back into Bangkok, although it was getting dark, we stopped by a little spot where monkeys in the wild are known to live. Sure enough, as we pulled off the road, we immediately saw their shadowy figures up on the power lines. Walking closer we heard them jumping around in the trees and making their excited calls. A little peninsula of land went out between a small river on the right and a little marshy area on the left, and the monkeys began to appear everywhere. It was great. Having never been around wild monkeys, it was also a little intimidating walking within feet of them as they ran around and across this little peninsula in the near darkness, knowing they can make nasty bites if they wish, but I did reach out and stroke one on its back as it passed. He glanced back but seemed undisturbed. Later, as one was sizing up Daniel, and stepping away from me, I reached out a little too quickly, prompting him to turn and make a somewhat threatening motion toward me! Another swiped angrily at Daniel when he got a little too close. Others sat more calmly, letting us photograph them, though good photos were few.

Today, Tuesday, was a fairly slow day. We got a late start, and walked around Bangkok for a while, seeing more centers of Buddha worship. The ornateness of these places amazes us both, though gaudy is sometimes the better word.

Now it’s Tuesday night, and Daniel and I are onboard an overnight train to Nong Khai, just across the border from Vientiane, the capital of Loas. We will arrive there in the morning, and cross into Laos for the day. We had hoped to spend longer in Laos, but didn’t quite have time to make the train that left last night. Not sure when I’ll next have access to post this!

Yangon Layover

2011-12-12T10:40:00.018-05:00

Bidding farewell to Kalaw, we stepped into the minivan taxi Alex had specifically arranged to take us the hour drive to Heho, whence we would fly to Yangon. The road to traverse is only about 20 miles, but the hour time estimate is accurate. It sounded like that old minivan was going to fall to pieces on that rough road. He got us there on time, though, and we flew to Yangon.

In Yangon we had about 6 hours before our flight to Bangkok, so we went to leave our packs at the left luggage department. That department consisted of a 5 foot long desk backed up nearly to the window wall of the main terminal. Between the desk and the window a couple of employees sat waiting for any business. They charged us $1 per pack, we said we’d be back in about 4 hours, and they placed our packs under the desk – no claim check. At some points the desk wasn’t even manned, but the packs were undisturbed. Regarding this and security as well, I think the descriptive term for habits at the airports in Myanmar is “airport casual.”

Outside, we arranged for a taxi driver to take us into the center of Yangon for a few hours, to the main market area, and to a couple of Buddhist pagodas, and return to the airport, for $25. Yangon is a large city, but retains the third world feel. In the center the streets were full and we parked a block away from a little footbridge up, over, and down again – walking over it we arrived in the market. We explored the part that took up a complete city block under one roof. Innumerable little shops selling antiques, clothing, jade, sandalwood carvings, trinkets, paintings, jewelry, food (both hot and in grocery form), tourist junk, and a dozen other things. Going through the hot food section was intense. Tables line the main path through, and farther to the left and right are the cooking stations. Immediately upon starting through the main path, I realized gauntlet was a better word for it. Two at a time from opposite sides of the path men and women were insistently entreating us, pointing to their tables, their menus, and their food prep areas. As our steps took us farther, more from tables farther along began barking at us, while the former ones continued. We were planning to eat at the same café across from the airport as previously, so we could simultaneously use their wireless, and managed to escape this part of the market unscathed.

Our taxi driver then took us to a Buddhist pagoda, particularly, the “reclining Buddha.” Under an open air roof lay a giant Buddha, over 200 feet long (notice actual people at bottom right of photo for scale). The robes are overlaid with gold leaf. Still, it looked comically foolish, and unworthy of the reverence being given to it by the worshippers present. But then, any man-made thing is.

Next was the Shwedagon Pagoda. Incredible complex, which I will allow the photos to describe. People there were separately touring, chanting in unison, lying around, taking photos, and pouring ceremonial water for purposes unknown to me. In the words of Forrest Gump, “and that’s all I have to say about that.”

Then it was back to the airport. I retrieved my laptop from the the Left Luggage Department and we went across the street to the café where we had eaten and wifi’d on the way into Myanmar. We ordered, and requested the key for wireless. Finally a woman came out and said I would have to pay 15,000 Kyat ($15) for a wireless card for all-day access. We said that wasn’t necessary when we had been there a few days before; we had been able to pay $1 for one hour. Her English was minimal, so we couldn’t tell if she was denying that was a possibility, or just ignoring what they had previously allowed us, or if she didn’t really understand what we were saying. The back and forth went on longer than was comfortable, but finally she went away and came back with the code and we had our dollar per hour service again.

A couple of hours later, we retrieved our luggage and boarded our flight back to Bangkok.

Trekking Through Tribal Villages Near Kalaw

2011-12-11T11:12:00.028-05:00

After the delayed flight from Yangon to Heho – allowing us to eat at the restaurant mentioned in the previous post – we took a taxi from Heho to our final Myanmar destination, the mountain town of Kalaw (kah-LAW), population 20,000. Here we would meet Alex (Pho Kyaw) who would guide us trekking through the mountain tribal villages in the surroundings of Kalaw.

Alex greeted us as soon as we stepped out of the taxi at Hotel Parami. Since our arrival there had been delayed we were not able to start trekking that day. Instead we took a room in Hotel Parami ($8 per night, per person, including breakfast and sporadically hot water), and then Alex walked us up a small mountain at the edge of town, topped by a Buddhist structure. The three of us sat at the top, and talked about the trek to begin on the next day, about politics and the past and future of Myanmar, and about religion. It had already been my impression, but it became obvious now that Alex is a thinking kind of man and I looked forward even more to the 2 days the three of us would be walking across the countryside together.

Coming down from the mountain, we three walked a block past the hotel and got a late supper at “The Everest.” Then Daniel and I settled in for a good night’s sleep, to wake at 7, breakfast at 7:30 (Daniel got scrambled eggs, I chose the omelet – but the omelet was just eggs, so they didn’t actually look much different!), and start the trek at 8. With our approval, Alex had accepted a third party to join us for the first of our two days. She was a physical trainer from San Francisco, former fundamentalist and currently “more of a Buddhist.” The trekking was up and down over the mountains, with packs carrying warm clothes for the night, lightweight sleeping bags, and bottled water. The scenery was beautiful, with lush growth in uncultivated sections, and various crops of the tribal peoples in the valleys and the on mountainsides (tea, oranges, cauliflower, garlic, chilis, bananas, rice, carrots, mustard, tobbaco, coriander, chiote, pumpkin, and I’m sure I’m forgetting others). Along the way Alex told us all about the various plants, wild and domesticated, and how the peoples harvest them and make use of them, both for food and medicinally. The paths we took were mostly single track footpaths, but some were wide enough that they would accommodate a car (though none are back there in the mountains), and a couple of times we went along railroad tracks.

The first day’s trek took us through a handful of tribal villages, where we saw chickens, pigs, and water buffalo, as well as the people drying tea leaves, boiling ginger root, putting rice through a process removing the husks, etc. The harvest of tea leaves is a communal affair. You pick the fresh tea leaves off the plants in your field every five days. You bring them home and lay them out to dry in the sun, turning them to completely dry. On the days waiting for that 5th day to roll around when fresh leaves will be present, you help others pick their fresh tea leaves, and of course you have their help on your 5th day. The homes in the villages were more substantial than I expected, but that is only because I was expecting straw huts or the like.

Ten miles later, and around 5:00, we arrived at the bamboo forest at the edge of a village where we would spend the night in the home of a teacher who had moved there to teach in the village school. It happened to be the largest home in the village, perhaps 20x30, divided into 4 rooms. There was no furniture, save for the small, low table in the kitchen, and 3 very small stools, about 4” off the floor. In the largest room, there were two thick pallets of layered blankets laid out on the floor next to each other for both Daniel and me. An assistant of Alex had gotten there early, per Alex’s instructions, and begun the food preparation for our supper: pumpkin soup, rice, green beans with egg, mixed vegetables and a couple other dishes as well. Upon our arrival that same assistant took the San Francisco “more of a Buddhist” a couple of hours further to where she would catch a taxi back to Kalaw. Alex and the teacher finished the meal prep and Daniel, Alex and I sat on the tiny stools around the little table to eat. EXCELLENT meal. The teacher ate separately after we were done.

In the large room afterward, Alex played some of his music from his mp3 player for us, and then Daniel and I set about to think of some games we could play without cards or anything. Daniel came up with paper football, and set to making the ball. As he and Alex played the first game, using the pattern on the vinyl flooring (that was a surprise) for goal lines and boundary lines, a couple of villagers came by to visit: a man in his 40’s or 50’s, and a boy about 10 years old. So as I played Alex, Daniel made another ball and we had two games going side by side. They took to it quickly and thoroughly enjoyed it. We hope to hear of paper football being played all through the tribal villages in a year or so! Later we spun coins to see whose coin would stay up spinning the longest, and noticed the boy’s method of spinning, using only one hand and not using a finger to flick the coin, but spinning the whole set of fingers to set the coin spinning. Next he used a different method, spinning his fingers in the air that way and letting the coin fly out to land and continue spinning. We were impressed!

We slept well, and woke to a breakfast of rice with a chili soy sprinkle, fried chiote prepared similarly to fried green tomatoes, and some more things Daniel and I don’t recall at the moment, but it was all good. Started the day’s trek and within 20-25 minutes arrived at a train station among the villages. Produce was being set up for sale along the tracks for all those passing through, and shops were open as well. We stopped in one where Alex ordered Lassies for us. No real idea how that should be spelled, but that’s what it sounds like. It was a yogurt drink, cold, but with a taste completely foreign to me and not entirely good. Daniel loved it. For me, the best part was the undissolved sugar at the bottom of the glass.

In a couple of later villages Alex introduced us to a couple of old ladies. The first was 88, and not in great health. She was sleeping on the porch of their little house when we arrived, but woke up after a few minutes. She had fallen in recent months and isn’t getting around well; she was also quite hard of hearing. In another village a little farther along our route, we met a woman of 102 (in photo). She was strong and vibrant, rising easily from a seated position on the floor to greet us. Neither of these women had any answer to the question, “how many descendants do you have,” as many had married in other villages and lived there.

We finally made our return to our base town of Kalaw, and Alex took us to his bamboo home he built himself about 5 years ago. There we had a dinner made by his wife, and afterward his wife’s sister and brother came by to visit with us, as well as her parents. Her brother and mother also showed up the next morning at the hotel, at 7.40 a.m., just to see us off as we left Kalaw. This was merely the final of many examples of the tremendous warmth and friendliness of the people of Myanmar.

(There are so many more photos I would have liked to include here, but space and time do not permit. Look for them as a Facebook album in the next day or so).

On the Ground in Myanmar (Burma)

2011-12-10T03:45:00.004-05:00

Landed here Wednesday morning at about 8:30, coming here from Bangkok Thailand. First order of business was changing money at the airport. I got enough to cover my flight ($100), and to pay for meals, lodging, and a guide for the next three days ($70), and then another $100 in case of emergency, which hopefully I’ll still have and can revert that amount back to dollars. Converted into Myanmarese currency, I received about 330,000 Kyat. All in denominations of 1000. So that’s 330 bills. Daniel and I both feel pretty rich right now, carrying around such wads of cash. ;)

Next we went to check in for our flight to the central region of the country, Heho, where we’ll find some kind of way to the mountain town of Kalaw, and meet our guide, Pho Kyaw (aka Alex). At check in we were informed that our flight had been given to another airline, and it wouldn’t leave until 4 hours later. Check in, by the way, was a rude little corner of makeshift countertops in what was fortunately a wide little hall leading to the next area of the terminal. Anyway, after much changing of paperwork and struggling with various arrangements, all was accomplished by a young lady who was pretty good at what she does. We pulled out our wads of cash and paid for the tickets which had been previously reserved.

Then we went looking for internet access so I could publish my earlier post on Impressions of the Japanese. I was skeptical the ‘net would be available at all in this airport, but was told there is a spot we can connect, though I have to “purchase a set.” On the way to inquire the details of that, a man began asking if we needed a taxi. No. If we needed a hotel. No. Where we were going, where we were coming from. I began ignoring him at this point as I was headed for an information desk. I must have finally mentioned our search for internet service, and he quickly told me about a restaurant/café across the road where he regularly connects with his cell phone. Fantastic! As we headed that way Daniel told me had already recognized that this guy wasn’t just a hawker of assistance, but almost certainly an airport employee. Which later made me realize that if I had continued ignoring him and walked to the information desk, he would have stepped behind it and been the one to answer my question! That would have been an awkward moment!

We made our way across the road to the café. Big long establishment, in old simple construction. A dump, if you saw it in your town in the US, but served us well. We sat at a little outside table in the shade of a roof with insulation as the lower surface. Perhaps 7 or 8 yellow polo shirted teens employed to sit around and watch the foreigners, cut up with one another, answer any questions we had, and jump to our assistance when we needed service. Another 4 or 5 in green t-shirts who cleaned up tables. And one white shirted guy in his 20’s who seemed to be above them all and to whom they all deferred.

After verifying that they had wifi, I ordered “Fish layer with oyster” and Daniel ordered “Chicken with lemon” – we hadn’t eaten all day and it was 11am, and each meal was only $2 US. And it was GOOD. Daniel also had a very spicy pasta based salad, and I added another dish, “Pork with lime.” All very good. The guys were friendly. But after ordering, when I began trying to connect it became clear there was a fee (which really was fine), but that means there is a security key. One of the guys went to retrieve the key, there was a little discussion and delay, and then he came back and apologetically, with a bit of embarrassment but also humor, said in his broken English that “nobody knows it.” Oh well, at least we’re getting food! But then a couple minutes later a 30ish lady came out and had the key for me. Success!

We’ve been killing time since then, walking around the area near the airport, and now writing this entry. Nearly time to board, I’ll see if I can get this posted.

(This was written on Wednesday midday, but now on Saturday is my first chance to post. Wednesday evening through this morning was spent in and trekking around Kalaw. Next post will tell those stories and there will be plenty of photos!)

Impressions of the Japanese

2011-12-06T23:23:00.001-05:00

I’m in the air over Thailand, on the way from Bangkok to Myanmar. Although I don’t yet know when I’ll have internet access again, I thought I’d put finger to key and record a few thoughts about the Japanese.

First, they know how to run an airline! Smiles all around, and very helpful. Eager to answer any question, provide any assistance. Even Southwest doesn’t come close to the standard set by All Nippon Airlines. With the meal, metal utensils. Other nice little touches during the flight. And departures run right on time. A friend remarked the other day that flying used to be an experience, and no longer is. Well, maybe not on most airlines.

But that leads into another impression, and I say up front that this next impression is based on WAY too little experience with the Japanese – but it’s the impression that came to mind for both of us. The friendliness seems to lack true warmth, as if it’s forced, as if it’s done because they’ve been trained to do so, whether by parents or employers, or the culture at large. As if they’re thinking in their heads, “smile now” and “continue smiling.” There’s a sameness among them in the friendliness, both in this cheerfulness and in clothing as well. It all seemed to have a somewhat mechanical aspect. If you’ve seen The Matrix, life in the matrix had a sterile appearance. Hearing my comparison along that line, Daniel concurred that it seemed “programmed.”

Having said that, a few other thoughts are important to note. We both saw exceptions to this impression. The people doing business in the fish market, or the guy who helped us at our lunch restaurant. The latter was especially friendly, in an obviously real way. He even gave us his email address so we could contact him later if we got lost in Tokyo or had other questions. We also saw them relating to one another in obviously warm ways.

Another contributor to this impression may be the Japanese compulsion to succeed in any effort. They are reported in my travel materials to be shy toward foreigners, since they don’t want to fail in communicating in a foreign language, and also reported to be hard to relate to on a personal level because of these kinds of things.

And the other thought I need to note is that trained cheerfulness is not necessarily a bad thing. Some of us have trouble opening up and being friendly. I have one friend who has told me that she was very reserved and shy, and finally one day realized she must change. She is now one of the most warm and friendly people I know, and there is no doubt that it is real. Some might respond to the possibility of programmed friendliness by saying no one should be trained to be friendly. That would be a faulty conclusion.

Another impression: The city of Tokyo was clean. I mean CLEAN. C-l-e-a-n Clean. We did see one wall along the monorail and a highway that had some graffiti – and even the graffiti was nice and orderly! This cleanliness may have also contributed to the sense that things are programmed Matrix-style, but if so, I think that’s only a commentary on the dirtiness of our own culture.

Still another: They have a sense of style. The don’t clutter the streets with lazy attempts at clothing themselves. They look sharp and appoint themselves well. It’s a nice aspect.

Finally a couple of surprises. There were almost no westerners in Tokyo. In the Bangkok airport, and on the flight to Myanmar, we saw more Americans than we saw all day in Tokyo and its airport. Several times more. Also, we found it surprising that we found precious few in Tokyo that knew enough English to share a few sentences, and only one that made conversation somewhat easy.

On to Myanmar!

The Southeast Asia Trip Begins!

2011-12-06T09:26:00.014-05:00

A 19 hour layover in Tokyo gives us a bonus destination, in addition to SE Asia. We arrived in Tokyo at 4:50 Tuesday morning. Having left LAX just after midnight Sunday night on a 12 hour flight, Daniel and I both got some half-decent sleep on the plane, over perhaps a 7 hour period – although half-decent is the correct term for it!

There are a number of high vantage points to overlook Tokyo, one gives a nod to the French: Tokyo Tower. A light rain was falling around 4 or 5 pm when we ascended it, but it still gave great views over Tokyo. It’s only after seeing the city from above that size of Tokyo really sinks in. Or at least so it was for me.

Going back to our first adventure in the city Tuesday morning, we took the Tokyo Monorail in from Haneda Airport, connectied to the Metro system (subway), and arrived at our first destination: the Tsujiki Fish Market, where the restaurant owners go to buy their seafood for the day. The place is VAST. Narrow aisle after narrow aisle of sellers displaying every kind of thing that lives in the sea. The place was just incredible.
From there we aimed for the Imperial Palace, but had a bit of an awkward situation on the way. Boarding the metro with a crowd of others, a metro employee on the platform was excitedly calling out what Daniel and I both distinctly heard as “Uma oni! Uma oni!” She came to the door where we had just entered, repeating this line, but we had managed to crowd in, had no clue what her excitement was about, and the doors closed. As one does in a crowded metro car, I glanced around at the faces around me . . . and noticed that there were precious few men there. Next I realized that every single person I could see – besides Daniel – was female. Then I remembered reading a few weeks ago that at rush hour, there are a few cars that are “women only,” a shelter from the groping in crowded metro cars (it has been a problem in this society where women were viewed with less honor). The employee, in a VERY poor attempt at English, had been telling us “Women only! Women only!” Until we switched cars at the next stop, I tried very hard not to touch anyone around me . . . which wasn’t easy as we were crammed in like sardines.

With that comic episode behind us we made our way to the grounds of the Imperial Palace – a preserve in the middle of the city with moats and gardens covering a huge area. A few structures from several hundred years ago remain, but the palace itself is more modern, the old palace having been destroyed.

We left the palace grounds in the direction of Akihabara, an area where nearly every shop sells electric and electronic products and supplies, from circuit boards and light bulbs to laptops and camera pens. We needed and found an alarm clock.

Then at lunch time we found a rustic place and ordered mackerel, butter fish, and chicken. All were good, but the chicken was the best. Great flavor and seasoning. And one of the employees working there was particularly friendly and helpful to us - friendly in a way that seemed more real than how some others seemed (see next post for further thoughts).

Next was Senso-ji, a Buddhist temple, and the market areas around it. A pedestrian avenue leads straight up to the temple, passing through two gates and of similar old Japanese architecture as the temple, lined with little shops of food items, leather goods, etc. At the temple, visitors could pull out drawers with fortunes in them, or waft smoke from a burning altar over themselves for healing. There was the occasional older person who bowed and put hands together as if in prayer, but mostly I got the sense that this site is merely a tourist spot to most everyone – and most were Japanese rather than international tourists. There was the kind of levity and activity that you see anywhere else tourists go rather than any evidence of awe or devotion.

Next was the Tokyo Tower, and then visits to Shinjuku and Shibuya, a couple of spots surrounded by lights and giant video screens, where crowds of shoppers fill the streets. Ate a rather skimpy and overpriced supper at a restaurant overlooking Shibuya, and then made it back to the airport for our midnight flight to Bangkok.

We're having a great time. :)

Next up: Upon arrival in Bangkok tomorrow morning, we’ll immediately travel to Myanmar where we’ll meet up with Pho Kyaw aka Alex, who will guide us through the countryside and tribal villages of his area. I highly doubt I’ll be able to post for the next few days. Look for more on Sunday or Monday.

The Family and Home of Gilmar and Maria (Pics)

2007-11-17T16:34:00.013-05:00

I am home in Georgia, but I have a few things left to post from my trip. In my previous post I spoke about Gilmar and Maria, but I didn't have my camera with me when we were at their home last Monday morning for breakfast. Pics have now been exchanged between David/Amy and me, so here are some pics from that Monday morning.

Here we are walking down the path to their home, which sits maybe 100 yards from the bumpy little dirt road:

They live in the outskirts of Quetzaltenango, the main city beginning just beyond the first hill visible in the picture. The church meets (and nearly all its members live) in this same neighborhood.

Their house is made of mud brick, a floor of concrete, and roofed with a single layer of corrugated metal.

The only door leads into the kitchen, and the exhaust chimney from the wood burning stove is visible at upper right. There are no windows. The far wall of the kitchen (the only concrete block wall) can be seen (barely) through the doorway. At bottom right are a few ears of the black maize they've grown.

Amy learning to make tortillas:

Maria was cheerfully making these tortillas when we arrived, and she got Amy in on the action also. I'm not sure if Amy was thinking of how close her skirt was to the open wood burning area of the stove - you can see the glow of embers - but there wasn't any real danger there, as the fire was quite well contained within. The cooking surface is a large metal plate laid across the top of the otherwise concrete structure. The chimney is visible at far right. White paint has been applied to the inner sides of the mud brick walls of the house.

The kids' table:

Breakfast was black(?) beans, scrambled eggs, and the tortillas from the earlier picture. Their kids seemed accustomed to not having chairs to sit on when visitors were there, but of course Sophie and Katie seemed at a loss as to what to do. Maria noticed and brought some concrete blocks and laid towels over them, for some of the kids to sit on.

Their daughter and younger boy:

The loom:

Visible are Gilmar, David, and Gilmar's daughter. This loom is in a separate building next to another home (I believe the home of Gilmar's sister), perhaps 50 yards away, beyond another little field of maize. This structure is just large enough (maybe 10'x15') to contain the loom, and formerly served for a time as Gilmar and Maria's home.

I really enjoyed spending time with them, and with the other Christians there as well, and wished I could stay longer to see more of their faith, service, and teaching.
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(If for some reason you would like to see the comments left on the page where this was originally published, they are viewable here: http://pleonast.com/users/dbsmelser/entries/301709-the-family-and-home-of-gilmar-and-maria

Some Observations

2007-11-12T23:31:00.010-05:00

My pictures in the previous posts have shown the nice things. But not everything is nice. In America, in the places where "we" live, everything is nice....as we expect them to be, and sometimes think we have a right for them to be. The Tapachula hotel, pictured in the previous entry, was really nice, so I showed lots of pics. The other hotels looked nice from the outside, but for the most part were marginal on the inside. Marginal, but satisfied our needs just fine. In the US, "we" would be upset with the conditions: abundant mildew inside one of the hotel room's shower, toilets that easily clogged, water that took 15 minutes to get hot. "We" tend to think that we should never be expected to endure such indignities.

And yet these flawed hotel rooms are so very far above the living conditions of so many people the world over.

I haven't made many pictures of the very small concrete block homes that some live in, here in Guatemala, and in Mexico. By small, I mean smaller than a 1 car garage. I really don't suppose those homes have indoor toilet facilities. Sure there are wealthy people here, with larger nicer homes than mine, but so many do not live that way.

While we were waiting in the parking lot at the Guatemala border, I saw a very small Guatemalan man (they're all small here). He looked to be in his 60's, but that may have been just the difficulty of his years showing on his face. Deep wrinkles; worn, hard skin. A body that would have preferred easier work at this stage of life. I may have previously mentioned the tropical heat at the border area...we were VERY uncomfortably hot, sweating heavily, just standing around. He, on the other hand, was pulling a hand truck, loaded with three untypically large sewing machines, through large gravel. They may have been his, or they may have belonged to somebody else, and this is his job, to tote things around in the customs area. The hand truck was leaning against his back, he leaning hard forward to bear the weight, with his hands gripping the sides behind him. The parking lot through which he pulled the hand truck was gravel, and the weight of his load dug into the gravel, making it harder to pull. At one point, the right-side wheel got jammed, refusing to rotate, and then dug harder into the gravel. This is a day in his life.

This morning we were invited to eat breakfast in the home of Gilmar and Maria, and their three children, one of the families in the church here. Their house, and those nearby, are situated among small fields of maize and other crops. Very nice family, with very well behaved children -- much better than most in the States I might add. And I very much enjoyed being in their home.

But consider: Most of the walls were mud brick with some straw mixed in, another wall was actually concrete block (houses of some of the other brethren are all concrete block, some plastered inside). Gilmar and Maria had painted the inner sides of the mud brick walls white. Concrete floor, painted if I remember correctly. The door was a few rough pieces of wood (more or less similar size as 2x4's) to form a frame, and a sheet of corrugated metal nailed to it. Three rooms. That door led into the first room, the kitchen, maybe 8' by 12'. At one end was a large concrete block stove, built in place, with a thick metal surface across the top. At one end was an opening, through which the burning wood could be seen. Maria was cheerfully making tortillas and placing them on the cooking surface as we came in. She taught Amy how to do it also. On to the second room: it was divided in the middle by a tall, wooden wardrobe, the kind that sells for big money in our antique stores, when they're in good condition (this one wouldn't make the cut); and by another similarly sized piece of furniture next to it. On the near side of this divider a simple table was set, with plastic chairs around it, the kind we might use outdoors. The children sat at a low table next to this one, and our hostess brought in concrete blocks for them to sit on (an accomodation that wasn't normal procedure), covering each block with a towel first. Behind the furniture, the other half of the room held a couple of beds, one much larger, one smaller. I never saw more than a glimpse into the third room. Outside was a small shack which I suppose was the outhouse. For laundry, Maria and the daughter use a washboard.

The roof was a single layer of corrugated metal, gabled, but the walls didn't make exact seals with the roof. Gaps remained in places, but the high-altitude climate here is somewhat constant year 'round, 70's or up to 80 in the day, though into the 40's and 30's at night. In one place in each room, a section of the corrugated metal ceiling/roof had been cut out and replaced with translucent corrugated plastic, to allow light in during the day. There were a few bare light bulbs to light the home at night. I noticed a few small holes in the metal roof, through which rainwater would easily drip.

They provided us with a fine breakfast of scrambled eggs and black beans, with fresh tortillas, and a very weak coffee (looked more like tea, perfect for me as I normally detest coffee), somewhat sweetened. We very much enjoyed it all, and had very enjoyable conversation.

Gilmar, the 30ish husband and father, walked us afterward to a similar, but considerably smaller structure, which used to be their home, and where he now has his loom with which he makes the fabric for the traditional dresses of the women here. Amazing process with all the multicolored threads.

Gilmar, and some of the girls with skirts of the same kind of fabric which he weaves:

He's an intelligent guy, and said he could have done office work, but chose weaving because it allows him more time with his family, and more time to be able to go and help other churches. Mind you, he's not “the preacher” here; they don't have a “the preacher.” He's just a Christian that's spiritually minded rather than earthly minded. After breakfast and showing us around, he went with us to town. When I stopped in a little store to buy a refrigerator magnet for someone back home who requested such, Gilmar also made a purchase: three postcards of nice scenes in Guatemala. As we left the store, he gave them to me as a gift.

When "we" hear of such living conditions as this family has, our immediate reaction is that we have to help them live better. We should send them things. They should have a higher standard of living, because no one should live like that.

You know what? They're living just fine. They're happy people. He provides a living, they're raising good children, he taught a lesson in the Sunday class period. Don't we say that such things are the things that matter?

I'll recommend a reaction. Don't sacrifice time with your children to make more money for more things (with the excuse, “it's for the children”). Don't sacrifice time for study, meditation, teaching your neighbor, and meeting regularly with the saints, to work for more money and things. Don't be bothered, if you don't have the things "we" think everybody ought to have. Be willing to take a lesser job, if its hours or location allow you to be a better, more fruitful servant of Christ. Don't make all your decisions with a standard of living in view. And if you're able to help the cause of Christ in other lands, then be willing to give up what really are our luxuries of royalty, to serve the One who truly is royal.

It's not these people here who need changes in their lives. It's us.

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(If for some reason you would like to see the comments left on the page where this was originally published, that page is viewable here:
http://pleonast.com/users/dbsmelser/entries/300342-some-observations?page=2

Catching Up

2007-11-11T23:09:00.004-05:00

We have arrived sooner than expected, since the plan to stop and visit the Reaves family in southern Mexico was scuttled. That being the case, I could have scheduled my return flight a bit sooner, but since my flights are non-refundable, I'm glad to have a few extra few days to be here. :)

Adventure While Entering Tapachula

Deservedly or not (I don't know enough to know), the southernmost Mexican state of Chiapas is known for some degree of lawlessness. Just before crossing into Chiapas, we saw a few military checkpoints, guys in uniform with machine guns atop military Hummers, that kind of thing. But we crossed into Chiapas and went through most of it without anything troublesome, finally arriving in Tapachula maybe 45 minutes after dark, just short of the Guatemalan border.

As this late model Honda Pilot and nice new trailer entered the outskirts of town, a band of about 7 men jumped out in the road, motioning us to the side, next to some buildings I never could quite identify. David pulled the car over and stopped, and lowered the window just enough for conversation. Although I understood very little at the moment, they were telling David that they wanted to help us, and that they work for the government. They were not in uniform, but did have similar shirts, though I don't think they were identical. I saw them displaying what they claimed to be official credentials, laminated and hanging from a lanyard on one of the men; at the same time, they were saying that we can trust them because they have these credentials -- and the laminated credentials did appear to be official. They asked whether we were going to Guatemala, and when David confirmed that we were, one of them said, “I'm Guatemalan too, you can trust me.” By this time, one of them had taken up a position standing directly in front of the car.

I told David to fill me in on what they were saying. He started to talk to me, but was immediately interrupted by the guys outside, so David raised the window completely and told me about their badges and their claims to help us. He then spoke with them some more, and they asked to see the transit papers for David's car, given to us at the northern border, to take it through Mexico. I emphatically told David not to hand it out the window, but only to let them see it through the glass. David showed it, and asked them why they need it. They offered a lot of explanation, but David only understood some of it, and even that didn't make sense to him. David raised the window and filled me in again, and asked my thoughts about it. My counsel to him was, “I´d put it in gear, and hit the gas.” David put it in gear, and as he hit the gas, he said through the window “Goodbye!” I liked that little touch. We heard several of them hitting/slapping the car and trailer as we pulled quickly away, and then checked to see if anyone followed us. For a while that evening, that event colored our whole perception about the town we were entering, and where we needed to find a place to sleep and store the car and trailer. It was a dismal looking town as we searched for the city center, but finally getting there, things began looking up, and then in the gridlock Fiesta/celebration traffic, as I got out to run ahead to inquire at a hotel half a block up, interacting with the locals, I began to feel more at ease. The hotel had no vacancies, so David got out and checked another -- it turned out to be where we stayed. Good hotel, secure parking, and we all felt better, and got out and enjoyed walking through the crowded town square (see pics in earlier entry).

Pics of the hotel in Tapachula, the first three leading successively in further toward our room:

Crossing the Border From Mexico Into Guatemala

When we first entered Mexico, it was with the understanding that there would be a careful checking of us on the way out at the southern border. And then there was the “tax” when we discovered that our documents were incorrect, and who knew what troubles that might lead to at the southern border? David made a couple calls as we neared the border region, and we were told to stop just before the border at a government office, “Viva Mexico,” where some things might be put in order for the crossing.

Well, we never saw Viva Mexico, and suddenly there we were at the border. There was a long, I mean long, line of cars (parked really, drivers not even present in many cases) in the Transmigrante line, which we had been incorrectly labeled as; we bypassed that lane and went on in our unoccupied lane. Guys began running up to the car, then alongside the car, offering their services and telling us to stop, showing (of all things) credentials hanging from lanyards. We ignored some of them and told others a firmly blunt “No.” We spotted a guy in uniform, and he told us to proceed, kind of shooing away the running guys.

Then we crossed a small bridge over a mountain stream (in which Guatemalan women were washing clothes) suggesting we were no longer in Mexico. Sure enough, there was the Guatemalan border control just ahead. Well, any concern for what the Mexican government might demand of us (more “taxes”?) quickly dissipated. By this time another group of guys had locked in on us, guiding us up to the obvious stop point for the Guatemalan side. And all of this amidst a kind of festival or state fair kind of atmosphere that I've never seen at any border anywhere. People walking in every direction -- I'm quite confident a person could simply walk through this border without ever being questioned at all; we walked around with complete freedom, and never saw any uniformed men stopping anyone. With a car, you might get stopped, but I have my doubts (at least in the direction from Mex. to Guat.).

As we came to a stop, these guys wanted to take charge of David's affairs, and David had to actually seek out the official guy there on the scene. Turns out David already knew about the young guys who assist travelers by taking them through the whole process, in expectation of a tip, but neither Amy nor I did. Anyway, we were told to back up about 30 feet, and enter a parking area back behind the buildings, and then walk back across to the Mexican side to get our passports stamped -- this was in a building off to the side. That done, there were a few other affairs on the Guatemalan side (passport control, changing money, making a list for customs of all the electronics we had, etc.). The guys that led us in walked us through all of this, which really, we could have done by ourselves. Their high-fiving each other behind us, when it became clear we were going to use their assistance, was disconcerting for a moment, but nothing really threatening.

Also, the whole time there are people offering to polish shoes, attempting to wash the car (one guy, the same guy, started washing it at least three separate times, always being told “no”), and boys age 11/12 or so begging for money. Also in this no-man's land between checkpoints, or rather between the Guatemalan checkpoint and where a Mexican checkpoint might be expected, were street vendors with food, clothing, etc. for sale, permanent stalls for the same, and even (I think) a hotel and restaurant. It was just craziness. Amy summed it all up later, in one of the videos below. About halfway through all of this, David ran into three of the Christians who had come to the border to meet us: Jeronimo, Elder, and Farinez (questionable spelling on that last one, though I can say that the n would have the tilda thing over it). Elder in particular was truly helpful. Pictures of the guys leading us into the initial stop on the Guatemalan side:

And here's a couple videos I made as we made our way through the western Guatemalan highlands:

OKAY, VIDEOS WILL HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW -- THIS INTERNET CONNECTION AT THE HOTEL IS ENTIRELY TOO SLOW FOR THAT. I'LL GET TO AN INTERNET CAFE TOMORROW, SO CHECK BACK IN THIS SAME SPACE

This next video begins as a Spanish dissertation on coffee, to the best of my knowledge, but then includes a cool view and some coffee plants:

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(If for some reason you would like to see where this post was originally published, and the comments left there, it is viewable here:
http://pleonast.com/users/dbsmelser/entries/299976-catching-up

At Our Destination

2007-11-10T23:28:00.003-05:00

We arrived in Quetzaltenango today. The drive from the border took considerably longer than the advertized two hours...we were guided in let´s say ´"not-shortcuts." Anyway, David has gained much experience in maneuvering the trailer in reverse.

We are all exhausted tonight from the week´s journey. The border crossing was like no other >I have ever seen (and I´ve seen my share of 3rd world border crsossings) and the adventure as we came into Tapachula, Chiapas, Mexico is yet to be told....but those will ahve to wait.

met some of the Christians tonight, looking forward to meeting with them tomorrow for their assembly.
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(If for some reason you would like to see where this post was originally published, and the comments left there, it is viewable here:
http://pleonast.com/users/dbsmelser/entries/299768-at-our-destination

Our Last (anticipated) Night in Mexico

2007-11-10T01:11:00.000-05:00

After a little bit of adventure, we are safely in Tapachula tonight (a large border city in the southern Mexican state of Chiapas. Nice hotel, lobby is open to the street, rooms open to lushly planted central courtyard, open to the sky. The “Grand Fiesta” continues, and getting through the one-way streets of central Tapachula, to find a hotel, was quite a challenge. Some folks saw David's trailer-towing SUV go by 2, 3, maybe 4 times: Lost Gringos. We joked that it almost sounds like a Mexican town.

From near the Gulf, we drove across to the Pacific today. In fact we took a 10 mile side road to go out to the Pacific coast, where we saw the very unpacific waves roll in, where especially Sophie enjoyed running around dodging the incoming water, and where she and Katie then promptly ran into each other, both falling in the sand just as the water was receding from it. Sand, water, and tears were everywhere. I have a couple video clips, but the connection speed here is way too slow for me to stay up longer and post them!

Came on into Tapachula after dark, arriving in the center after some little delay on the outskirts, and found the center packed with the fiesta. After the others settling in, and me locating my misplaced passport (I had unconsciously put it in the place I used to store it when traveling), we took a walk around the square where the celebration is centered, got something to eat (very good again), and returned to the hotel. Couple of pics from the square...I can't believe I got pics without showing the crowds of people.

Tomorrow we hope to cross the border into Guatemala in mid to late morning, and then have about a 2 hours' drive to Quetzaltenango, and the end of David and Amy's move. Some of the saints from there plan to meet us at the border when we cross.
The Yellow dot on the map below represents the location of Quetzaltenango, David and Amy's new home.

Safely (but with some adventure) in Tapachula Tonight

2007-11-09T22:19:00.001-05:00

Tapachula is only some 15-20 miles from the Guatemalan border, which we hope to cross in the morning, and then just two hours to David and Amy's new hometown of Quetzaltenango. I hope to make another new entry later this evening about today's travel.

Today's fun: Not the Driving, But the Stopping

2007-11-09T00:56:00.016-05:00

That's a place we unfortunately did not get to see (ripped the pic from the internet). Leaving Poza Rica, we intended to stop at these remarkable ruins some 10(?) miles to the south, El Tajin. Got to the side road leading to it, went maybe a mile on that road, and came to a place that was roped off. Turns out that road was under repair, impassable, and the only other approach meant going back into Poza Rica and taking another route. That's too long, so we continued on our route southward toward Guatemala. Oh well.

Vegetation continued to be lush and dense, and the landscape hilly/mountainous for the first half of the day.

Then the road came to parallel the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, and this is a view toward the interior:

For lunch we stopped at a seaside restaurant in this area known as Costa Esmeralda (the Emerald Coast). The restaurant was actually under repair, but their outside tables were still available. Great food, great scenery.

Clockwise starting with the plate with french fries, the entrees are beef, kinda chicken fried; shrimp, snail (a first for me, and really good - we all liked it); and langostina, a smaller version of lobster.Maybe you can see the Gulf in the background.

Tonight we are in Acayucan. From this point, we will head across from the Gulf side to the Pacific side, and then continue toward Guatemala. We are fortunate to be Acayucan during a “grand fiesta,” lots of people in the streets in the center of town where our hotel is, and lots of open markets. We got a very good price on this quite nice hotel --Hotel Plaza-- with very friendly staff. Although the attached restaurant looked fantastic and good prices, we decided to eat elsewhere, more casually. After wandering the streets for a bit, and with lots of locals interested in us and especially in Sophie, Katie, and Emma, we found the Los Tucanes restaurant (The Toucan), kind of a simple cafe/diner atmosphere. I had, well I don't really

know, but when a waiter is especially friendly, I generally trust them to choose something for me. I knew it would be fish, but nothing more. It turned out to be a quite large serving of baked(?) fish smothered in tomato, pepper, onion, a few green olives and chunks of garlic, with other unknown bits and spices, somewhat spicy hot. It was the best meal of the trip so far. :)

Walking around for a bit I found the locals to be very friendly even without having the 3 little blondes with me. Couple of gentlemen talked with me for a bit, one is Pablo, speaks almost no English, the other is (I don't recall), and told me he is half Mexican, half Italian. The hotel here does not have wireless, but one of the older guys at the desk, who couldn't explain to me how to find the nearest internet cafe (little English, and I have no Spanish), walked me there. He's the one that explained the ongoing fiesta....and also that he is actually Spanish, while his wife is Mexican. I really do enjoy dealing with foreigners. Partly because the language difficulties never fail to make for pleasant/comical conversation, but also because each party is more interested in the other than in typical same-culture conversations. A few pics from town, including lastly our hotel.

All are well. In red, here's the travel today:

Slow Going

2007-11-07T23:49:00.007-05:00

We left Ciudad Victoria this morning, and crossed the Tropic of Cancer in our first hour on the road. Sadly, there's no marker, so we couldn't know exactly where it was, nor take any pics at it. As the day progressed though, we did notice the vegetation getting a lot more full, dense, and lush.

In Tampico/Madera, we stopped at the car insurance office, as doubts had arisen whether anyone but David was covered by the insurance procured at the border. They checked things out and said we were all good. Also stopped at a bank there and changed money. But those two things, plus a little nursing time, took 2 hours out of the day.

And today, all the warnings of my Mexican friends about slow travel in Mexico came true! (our rate of travel has slowed down considerably) First there are the speed bumps. When you come into town, speed bumps slow you to nearly a stop. When there's a random place for people to cross the highway in town, speed bumps. And then there were places, not in town, where I didn't really see any reason for them, but nevertheless, speed bumps. But the speed bumps have their fun side, too. First, the reader must understand passing in Mexico. If you have someone coming up behind you wanting to pass, you slide over part way -or all the way- on the wide shoulder, to let him go by. IF oncoming traffic is paying attention (and they do), they slide over also, leaving plenty of room for the passing car (I like this system a lot, similar to European driving as well. I wish Americans could learn it). So, there's already an understanding that lanes are not absolute. But then out in the countryside, when there's a solid line of traffic, everybody trying to pass each other, and you come upon some little wide spot in the road with a business or two, and speed bumps appear, it becomes a free-for-all. With no oncoming traffic, our one lane spread into 3 or 4 lanes approaching the speed bumps, everybody trying to use them as a tool to get ahead of everybody else! Accelerating away from the speed bumps, cars go whizzing past on either side (this is a two lane highway). Craziness. And pretty comical.

Then the potholes. Long sections of the road today were as much pothole as they were highway. David was driving when we were on the worst of these sections, and was all over both lanes of the highway, as was everybody else, dodging holes and finding less rough surfaces.

Tonight we are in Poza Rica. Amy just mentioned that there doesn't seem to be any hot water in our bathroom. I talked to the guy at the desk and he says that it is a problem common to all the rooms, but hot water will arrive if we let it run for 10-15 minutes. Good enough, seeing as the hotel rate tonight is about half of what it was last night.

Hopefully tomorrow will bring a better rate of travel than we had today.

The Roads in Mexico from Darryl Smelser on Vimeo.

This is a mountain that caught my eye...looks volcanic to me.

And here's the updated road map, today's travel in green:

Into Mexico!

2007-11-07T00:16:00.006-05:00

Everything's going reasonably well. :)

David and Amy met me at the Houston Airport on Monday, about noon. After picking up my bag I headed for the exit, calling David on the cell phone to see where they were in lapping the terminal, in their Honda Pilot...I caught myself and did NOT ask him (in the midst of numerous airport people) "Hey, what color is your Pilot?" Still in the Houston area, we stopped at a Honda dealer to check out some remaining symptoms of the previous wreck and imperfect body repair. Very good folks at the dealer identified some possibilities, and said that we were quite safe to travel all the way to Guatemala, and then have the remaining repairs done there.

Sophie and Katie while we were waiting at the dealership:

We made it to Pharr Texas (next to McAllen) and the home of Warren Berkley for the night. Very hospitable, helpful people. Took care of various border crossing errands this morning, then went to the border not knowing if we would make it across today at all. All seemed to go quickly and smoothly, and we left the border area at about 3 pm. At a later checkpoint, some 30 miles (?) into Mexico, we discovered that the border folks had incorrectly marked our papers, indicating "transmigrantes" status instead of "Tourist"
status, but had not done other things necessary for "transmigrants". The cop at this checkpoint indicated that this is a problem. After much discussion he said if David paid a "tax," that we could go on even though our papers weren't quite right. Paid up, traveled on.

About 7 pm, an hour after dark, we reached the city of Ciudad Victoria (I think that's redundant), and we have a room at the Paradise Inn, and had supper in the attached restaurant, El Eden. Wireless in the Lobby!

Approaching sunset, a ways north of Ciudad Victoria:

My supper in the restaurant was Enchilades con Carne - very good!

Finally the map of our travel today:

South of the Border

2007-10-29T10:37:00.003-04:00

One week from today, I drive to Atlanta, fly to Houston, and, well, here’s the rest…

My niece Amy and nephew (“nephew-in-law”?) David, with their three little blondes age 4 and under, are moving to Guatemala to teach the gospel there. They’re driving down next week, and for whatever assistance I may be, I’m riding down with them and then flying home. I’m happy to offer whatever assistance that might be, but also I have to say that I really look forward to the trip. For years I’ve thought it would be really cool to drive all the way to South America, and while this is not that, it’s at least part of it. Of course in my previous imaginings, there weren’t three little girls trapped in a car for a week…that should be fun, but yes, I’m taking my iPod. :)

David and Amy will pick me up Monday Nov. 5 in Houston, we’ll drive to the Mexican border, and hope to cross the border on Tuesday. Then it will take however long it will take (who knows?) to get to the Mexican/Guatemalan border and cross it. Then a relatively short drive to the 2nd largest city of Guatemala where they’ll be living: Quetzaltenango. If our travels go well, I should have a couple days there, before traveling to the capital city – Guatemala City – spend half a day there, and then fly out on Thursday Nov. 15, headed back home. Looks like I may get to see Cuba from the plane on the way home. Cool.

I’m planning to take my laptop with me, and I’ll try to update with pics here on pleo along the way.

Oh...and for any of you east coasters who saw my headline at the top, and were expecting a great article on that famous neon center of culture, entertainment, and puns just South Of The NC/SC Border, I'm so sorry to have disappointed. ;)

Ephesus

2006-11-28T12:28:00.000-05:00

Having arrived at Selcuk/Ephesus from Troas and Assos late Tuesday night, we found a dirt road leading up a forested mountain on which to park the car and sleep, and then toured the city of Ephesus on Wednesday. We got lunch at a little Turkish restaurant in the neighboring modern town of Selcuk, eating at one of their outside tables.

Paul first visited Ephesus toward the end of his second journey, having ended a lengthy stay in Corinth, and heading east toward Jerusalem. He was accompanied presumably still by Silas and Timothy, and certainly by Aquila and Priscilla (Acts 18:18-21). He stayed briefly, perhaps only the weekend, though Aquila and Priscilla stayed and made Ephesus their home for at least the next couple of years.

Then on his third journey, Paul came to Ephesus and stayed for 2 1/2 to 3 years, teaching initially in the synagogue, then in the school of Tyrannus, until all Asia became acquainted with the gospel message (19:1-41). Here in Ephesus the seven sons of Sceva were beaten up and stripped of their clothing by an evil spirit, and also here Demetrius the silversmith riled up similar craftsmen, instigating the riot which occupied the Ephesus Theater. Demetrius' particular trade was in making silver shrines of Artemis, whose massive temple was at Ephesus; her temple is reported to have been one of the seven wonders of the ancient world.

(A model of the Artemis temple, in the local museum. It is presumed that a statue of Artemis stood in the center, where you can see the roof is open so that she stood unshaded.)

Our first stop was at the remains of that temple. It was built beyond a hill, separated from the main part of the city of Ephesus by more than a mile, and today the site feels like it would have been somewhat 'out of town.' Only one column of the temple is standing, but enough ruins remain that one can see the outline of the whole structure. In the first century, the temple was 344 feet long, and 18o feet wide...four times the size of the Athenian Parthenon. Its columns were 60 feet tall, and the whole structure was made nearly entirely of marble. One can imagine the city was proud of the temple, and of Artemis, and ready to protest any defamation of it or of her. One can also imagine the great trade that existed in making and selling silver goods associated with the goddess and her temple.

(the temple ruins today; for scale, note the person standing at center left, and that he is standing closer to the camera than is the column)

To better visualize the area as a whole, you can see it all at GoogleEarth by putting latitude/longitude coordinates in the search field. For the theater at the center of Ephesus: copy and paste 37 56 27 N 27 20 32 E. For the Temple of Artemis, 37 56 58 N 27 21 49 E.

After a tour of the museum (between the temple site and the modern town of Selcuk), we headed off to the ruins of Ephesus itself. Between the parking area and the gated entrance were all kinds of souvenir shops, and every effort to make money off the tourists. One guy was selling “genuine fake watches.” Nathan remarked that it was as if they had decided to do an extreme caricature of tourist traps, a spoof of how bad they can be! But then you buy your ticket and go through the gate...

First you come to the street that connected the harbor to the Theater. Unfortunately, the harbor has silted in so that ships cannot come inland; the sea is now three miles away, but one can imagine. The Theater of course is magnificent, as are its acoustics. Nathan could stand at the top with my camera, and record as I stood at center stage and read from Acts 19 about the riot that happened in that very spot.

Then down another street leading from the Theater, one finds the facade of the Library of Celsus, built some 50 to 80 years after Paul's stay in the city. It was three stories, though the facade has only two remaining. In fact an earthquake toppled it in the 10th century, and it was only re-erected in the 1970's. Next to the Library are arched entrances to the large Agora, or market area, where the people of Ephesus bought and sold their goods. Going uphill from the library is the street of the Curetes, along which are other ancient structures: temples, homes, a brothel, shops, a public bathroom, etc.

(Above: Library of Celsus facade; to the right, entrances to the Agora. Below, the Agora; Library facade visible at left; the street from the Theater to the Library runs just outside this photo, parallel to the nearest row of columns)

But consider again the Agora (GoogleEarth 37 56 24 N 27 20 26 E). It lies next to the Library, bordered by the street that leads immediately to the Theater. It seems quite likely that silversmiths would have had their shops and done their business in the Agora, and it is reported by John McCray in the Criswell Theological Review that one archaeologist has reported locating silversmith shops there in the Agora. It then becomes quite easy to visualize Demetrius rounding up the tradesmen, the city filling with confusion as they began crying out "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians," and then the rush to the Theater just down and across the street, dragging two of Paul's Christian brothers with them as they ran (Gaius and Aristarchus). Then for two hours their voices reverberated in that Theater, “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!”

(view from the Theater to the Agora)

Well, great she was, but only in their minds, and in the magnificence of the temple they built for her. But they are now dead, and her temple is now in scant ruins, a place for the curious like me, and for sheep to wander and graze.

And our God still stands.

Overcast Morning in Budapest (plus Turkey!)

2006-11-20T02:59:00.000-05:00

Chisinau Moldova ceased to be our home at 6 am this morning, as we said our goodbyes to the two Sergheis, both of whom accompanied us to the airport. Various feelings about this departure, but both of us are glad for our stay in Moldova, yet also glad that we should be home in the US tonight. Right now, I'm sitting in the Budapest airport, foot propped up on the base of a large airport window wall overlooking the taxiways and runways. The sky is gray, but a few holes in the clouds hint at a sunnier afternoon.

I still have a lot to post, in particular about our travels to Turkey. Some is in this post, and more will come in the next few days, though I am not sure you all will be as interested to read this blog once we're actually back home in the States. I'll assume you are, and you don't have to correct me if you're not! :)

...but first, I'm very happy to mention this:

IT'S JUST BEEN GLORIOUS
The storied life of Marlene Smelser

As many of you know, my Dad has written a book about my Mom's life – we lost her in 2002. It's a great book (I might be less than plainly objective, but it's still a great book!). It traces her beginnings and the things that might have held her back from what she made of herself, and shows the godly woman and lady she became. Dad avoided writing as a preachy instructor, and simply told her story. It, as was her life, is filled with adventure. The main title line is a statement she made more than once in the days just before her death, and reflects her general attitude about what life can be, and more directly about her life in particular.

The book is to be available this very week, and will be initially available through Dad and us three sons (Jeff, Scott, and I). Bookstores will have it a little later. The cost is $20, shipped without tax, though I'll add shipping cost (actual shipping amount). Feel free to contact me for placing orders, or any of us for picking up a copy in person. I'll provide more exact info in a day or so.

TURKEY

Entering the country from Malko Turnovo Bulgaria, this is the first Turkish village we came to. It was the mosque's minaret, the first I'd ever seen, that caught my attention and made me stop for a picture.

We ended up getting to see a little more than I was expecting as of the beginning of the week. In our order of travel, we saw Troas, nighttime in Assos, Ephesus, Miletus, Colosse, Laodicea, Hierapolis, Antioch of Pisidia, Pergamum, and finally Assos in the daylight. It was great!

To cross the Dardanelles, that narrow strip of water that helps join the Black Sea to the Mediterranean, we came to the town of Gelibolu. Very attractive downtown area next to the water, friendly staff in the little restaurant where we got sandwiches and sampled some eggplant and peppers, and friendly little school kids eager to talk with the Americans. And then there are the Turks who seek to make a buck from the tourists, especially I suppose from the richer western tourists. We had about 45 minutes before the ferry would take us across, so we left the car in the line at the ferry to go explore, get lunch, etc. When we returned, we saw that all the windows of our very dirty car had been cleaned, and two guys approached wanting to be paid for the job. They of course put the guilt trip on everybody, we cleaned your windows and you don't pay! We were not convinced.

Once that was cleared up, a fella selling cologne (Calvin Klein, Hugo Boss, etc.) came around trying to make us his customers. We were sitting in the car with windows down waiting to board, and he comes up, speaking mainly Turkish but enough English to get the idea across. We on the other hand, hadn't shaved or bathed for two days, but/so (?) he was persistent. Very friendly, some Turkish, some English. Wouldn't take no for an answer. We finally had success in turning him away, a bit later drove on board the ferry, and before we got out of the car he was back at the window. It was now much more Turkish than English. Finally I said, smiling as I did so, “Cologne will not help us! And we don't understand what you are saying. We don't understand the words that are coming out of your mouth!” Some of you will recognize that adapted line. We enjoyed the moment, and he finally gave up.

Other people in town were very friendly to us with nothing to gain for themselves, and I'll say more about that later. An hour or so after the crossing, we were at...

Troas

Paul first visited here on the second journey, having come west past the Galatian cities, accompanied by Silas and Timothy. There he was shown the vision of the Macedonian man saying “Come over to Macedonia and help us!” There Luke joined Paul and his companions as they set out to cross the sea to Neapolis and Philippi, and the rest of Macedonia.

Paul visited again on his third journey, assembling with the saints to break bread, preaching until midnight, and raising sleepy Eutychus from the dead after his fall from the window.

Troas is divided by the little narrow road that now runs through it, with widely scattered ruins. We had hoped to find an upper room window in which to pose "asleep" for a picture, but had no luck. In the previous post is a picture of temple ruins there. From the main concentration (as best we found) of ruins, it's about a 20 minute hike to the sea, across tilled fields and through olive groves where friendly local Turks were picking olives. Then a little north along the shore is the ancient harbor. From there, Paul sailed to Neapolis and Philippi, and into there he sailed in order to assemble and break bread with the Troas church in Acts 20. The harbor now is partially filled in by silt.

(looking past the harbor site -partially hidden- across the Aegean Sea, toward Neopolis and Philippi)

ASSOS

Daylight was dimming as we left Troas, and we didn't make it to the seaside town of Assos until after dark. The city of Assos was high above the water on a hill, with nearly a cliff dropping down to its harbor, still functional today. I'll save my pics of Assos until we come back to it in daylight. But as we drove toward the top of Assos, looking for a way to head out of town to the east, the cobblestone street narrowed considerably, and as we happened to be there right at 6:30 pm, the prayer call from the minaret began. We finally came to a spot where we saw no further lane going upward, just as several muslim Turks were walking across right in front of us, who possibly (at least in our minds) looked annoyed at our presence, our headlights, and our activity at the time of their prayer call. And this is our first night in Turkey. We made a retreat downhill, and found the road headed out.

We drove a few hours that night, finally reaching Ephesus. More on that in my next post.

Turkey Is Great!

2006-11-14T16:56:00.000-05:00

It's about midnight Tuesday night, and we just arrived at Ephesus. We're sitting in the car outside a hotel, connected to their wireless network to just let everybody know we're fine. The Turks we've met have been nothing but friendly, helpful, and cheerful.

Border crossings were very good getting here (unlike on our trip to the Ukraine on Saturday). Turkey is a really picturesque country, and we've taken lots of pictures of it for our own. Crossing the Dardanelles by ferry boat, we both entered our third continent, Asia.

(at right, leaving Europe: pulling away from the dock at Gelibolu)

Today we saw Troas, came here in the evening hours, will see Ephesus and Miletus tomorow, and will work our way back north, with a jog to the east for Colosse, Laodicea, and Hierapolis, and then see Pergamum and Assos farther north. Looks like the cities of Galatia will have to wait.

(at left, temple ruins at Troas)

We got up at 4:45 this morning, so we need sleep (actually Nathan already is), so this is going to be brief! Bye for now.

Headed South

2006-11-12T15:24:00.000-05:00

It's 10:30 pm Sunday night, and I'm packed and just about ready to get to bed. Planning to get up and leave around 4 am headed south to Turkey. No time for a lengthy post right now. I hope to be able to post new entries from Turkey, but if you don't see any, please don't assume anything too bad! I just don't know how easy it will be to get internet access while we're traveling the way we will be traveling. I hope we can find some internet joints for web access...or even wireless outside a nice hotel.

We plan to be back here in Chisinau Saturday evening, meet with the churches on Sunday, and then fly home on Monday.

Basic Outline of the Last Three Days:

Friday morning: Balti
Friday afternoon: Picked up rental car
Friday afternoon: Didn't go to the museum
Friday evening: Study with Christians here in Chisinau
Saturday 4:45 am to 8:45 pm: Trip to Odessa, Ukraine
(stories to tell about that)
Saturday, late evening: Supper at home of members here
Sunday morning: Nathan/Balti, Me/Tiraspol (visitors in Tiraspol)
Sunday evening: Assembly here in Chisinau

Mitch and Julie:
We arrive in Atlanta Monday evening Nov. 20 about 8:30 pm (on one paper is listed 8:22 pm, on another 8:40 pm - it's a Delta flight from JFK). Would you be able to either (1) meet us at the airport with my car, or (2), leave my car parked for me in some specified place with the key locked in it? - I have a key with me. Please send me an email with possibilities. Thanks!

Aim Accomplished in Tiraspol

2006-11-09T16:41:00.000-05:00

Driver Serghei is a good story teller. Among his stories are a number of accounts of silly policemen. Most policemen here are reportedly corrupt, and frequently try to take advantage of the citizenry, as well as foreigners, often seeking bribes by threatening a fine or arrest. Remember that driver Serghei is the one who joked that he never uses toothpaste on Thursdays because Thursday is Transnistria day, and the Transnistrian cops like to check him for drunkenness by smelling his breath. He also told of the time some policeman stopped and questioned him without justification, in a way that threatened a fine, until Serghei asked the policeman's name. “What?” “Your name, please.” “What is this? You don't need my name! Blah, blah, blah, you can go.”

Well, on Tuesday Nathan and I were walking in the center, and I stopped to take a picture of the statue of Stephan-cel-Mare (Stephen the Great). Turning and walking away from taking the shot, we were stopped by a policeman. Authoritarian tone, in Russian: “What are you photographing?” “Oh, I was just taking a picture of Stephan-cel-Mare” (pointing to the statue). Of course he doesn't understand my English, but certainly understood the name, and my pointed finger. “Blah blah blah more authoritarian tone blah blah blah! Pasaporta i visa!” So we showed him our passports, open to the page with our visas. He saw the line on my visa that said where it was issued, but could only read the city name, not “Issued in.” So pointing to me he asked, “From Vashington DC?” Off to the side, Nathan said with a smile, “Yeah, we work for the President.” I don't think the cop caught that. I said, “Nyet. Visa, Washington DC.” “Ah, da, visa.” He gets out a little booklet and begins to write our names down from our passports. So I lift my camera to chest level, with the flip screen turned so I can see in it, and take a shot of his badge and badge number. “Blah-Blah! Blah blah blah blah blah!” I understood only some of this section of blahs, but he was asking if I just took a picture of him (and if so, that I should not). Me: “Nyet,” and then I touched his badge with my finger. “BLAH Blah blah blah blah!” He began making demands and pointing to my camera, kind of motioning to himself some of the time. Clearly he wanted the camera, wanted the picture deleted, etc. I was not about to turn over my camera in any case, and the language barrier was my additional defense. He had no idea whether we could understand the demands or not, and he had no right to forcefully take the camera from my hand. So he finished writing down our names and let us go. We restrained our laughter until we got some 20-30 feet away, but he may still have heard us. I'm glad we've got better police forces in America.

(enlarging the picture on my computer brings the badge number 0122 clearly into view)

Tuesday evening was the Bible study at the church meeting place. Thanks to a friend back home in Georgia, who found my notes on wine and drunkenness in a pretty unlikely place, and emailed the files to me, I was finally ready to teach a lesson on this needed topic here. There is a problem of occasional drunkenness of one guy within the church here, and I wanted to put the pressure on him, and reinforce the thoughts of others on drunkenness. I made sure that afternoon that he would be present, and was glad to see him there that night. The discussion went well.

Yesterday (Wed) we were in Balti as usual. The ladies had asked recently if we would simply answer questions in our sessions with them, but on this third time since that request they had no specific questions and were expecting a lesson of our choosing. I used some notes I had with me on “Three Biblical Women,” a study of good characteristics of Moses' mother, Dorcas, and Priscilla. Especially good that day though, was that Dora, the lady who just over a week ago was upset at Serghei, Vyera, and the church there, and who said she would not be back, was back after all, seemed to enjoy the study and general comaraderie (sp?), and afterward asked if Nathan and I would pose for a picture with her. Very good.

Last evening we stopped by the hospital to see Valerii. Nathan has spent a little more time there than I, playing chess with him. Just about every time he or us are there, we get involved in Biblical discussions with the several other men in the same room. One day Valerii told us in Russian for all present to hear, while pointing to one of them, “This man doesn't believe in God. What should we tell him?” So we started talking. Anyway, last evening was another night of such discussion, this time with a patient of unspecified religious affiliation (apparently not Orthodox), but who asked us many questions about our faith, until finally we had to go due to other commitments.

Today being Thursday, the two Sergheis picked us up at 7:45, and we headed to Tiraspol. Serghei Sergheiovich used most of the time today to translate his latest letter to Ken G. (American inst. brother), and there followed much discussion among the Christians present from Tiraspol and Benderi. Nathan and I had seen the letter the day before, and had to laugh at Serghei's first line, in response to Ken's lengthy letter wherein Ken said nothing helpful and failed to respond to Serghei's concerns. Serghei's new letter began:

Dear Ken,
Thank you for sending me such a long letter.

Maybe you had to be there, or maybe not, or maybe you have to know Serghei, or maybe not, but we laughed a lot.

After the discussion wound down some, Sasha asked if I could finish up my thoughts previously presented on the work of the church, which I had been very much wanting to do, and today was my last day to be able to do so with Christians from both churches present. It was a quick version, summarizing previous thoughts on congregational works approved by the NT text, and then dealing with the difference between aids for those things and additions to those things, and in particular, common meals and church kitchens. Even though brief, as we needed to leave before too long, I think it was sufficient, and they agreed with my teaching. Since Sasha and Ina assemble with the Benderi church each Sunday, and since we will not be here another Thursday (but still two Sundays), we had to say goodbye to these two today. It's been good to meet them.

(some of those present in Tiraspol today. left to right: unknown name; Vyera, whose home is used for a meeting place; Peter, a Soviet army veteran; Sasha, from Benderi)

Tonight Nathan and I prepared dinner for Serghei Sergheiovich, his wife Anna and daughter Viki (Viktoria), and for Valentina, the wife of the hospital patient Valerii. Cooking styles differ, and there are some unusual eating patterns in some of those present. Not everybody ate everything (some ate only one thing), but 2 out of 4 things were commended by one person or more! So it's hard to feed some people. It was still a good evening. Nathan and I walked out with our guests, to walk Valentina home. Serghei and Anna started walking in one direction, and the three of us in the other direction, and little Viki just stood still in the middle, watching we three walk away. I ran back and quickly got this shot. :) She, by the way, speaks toddler Russian and toddler English.

Our time here is coming to a rapid conclusion. Tomorrow we go to Balti; tomorrow night a study at the church meeting place; on Saturday, we use a free day to drive to Odessa in the Ukraine; Sunday Nathan goes to Balti and I to Tiraspol; and then after the evening assembly in Chisinau, Nathan and I head south to Turkey in the rental car we'll pick up tomorrow afternoon. Destinations: Troas, Pergamum, Ephesus, Miletus, and as time allows, Laodicea, Antioch, Iconium, etc. We won't make it to all the places I'd like to see. I hope we'll be able to post from Turkey. If not, at least I'll try to send a quick email somehow to a few. We'll return from Turkey on the following Saturday, meet with the saints in these churches one last time on Sunday, and fly home on Monday Nov. 20. Arrival home in WR should be about 10:30 that night. For now, I'm gonna say if a few of you nightowls wanted to be there that late at night, we'd be glad to see you. For a little while. :)

Benderi, Snow, and Emigration

2006-11-06T13:08:00.000-05:00

I last left you with notice that we would go the following morning (Thursday) to Benderi, to meet in the flat of Ina, one of the women in the church there, who sees the problems in the Benderi church, and had invited any and all of the other members to come meet with her and us. We learned that she had been widely and strongly criticized within the Benderi church again on the latest Sunday, for asking how the treasury was being used. She defended her actions by appealing to the passages I had previously discussed with her (which she had worried she would not be able to present well, and that was the reason for the planned meeting for Thursday morning). Well, she apparently did it well afterall :), because Benderi Serghei finally admitted that she had raised the question properly. Of course much is still unresolved, but that is perhaps some degree of progress.

We (Driver Serghei, Serghei Sergheiovich, Nathan, and I) arrived in Benderi at Ina's flat Thursday morning to find that none who had opposed her came to this meeting. Sasha was there, as well as three of the other women who have attended the normal Thursday studies that Serghei Sergheiovich leads in Tiraspol, and which we have been helping teach while we are here.

(From left: Nathan, Sasha, driver Serghei [barely visible], Serghei Sergheiovich, the 3 women whose names I don't know, and Ina)

So Serghei used most of the time to translate for them a letter he recently received from Ken G., the American institutional brother who has been working with those churches once or twice a year. These brethren were not pleased by Ken G.'s letter, but that is not new. I also talked with them for a few minutes, dealing with one of Ken's arguments: that there is no distinction between church action and individual action. We hope we left them with good counsel and encouragement. We should see them again at the regular Thursday study in Tiraspol.

Friday morning brought us another trip to Balti with driver Serghei. The ladies there wanted our thoughts related to scripture on the subject of children (both grown and not grown) and their relationship to their parents; what kind of respect, what kind of obedience, what expectations parents can have from children.

(yet another picture of Vyera, our favorite lady in Balti)

We got back to Chisinau just in time to collect our thoughts and finalize our notes before our three o'clock appointment with the two Christina's, the college English students who began studying with us a couple of weeks ago. But they never showed up. I just found out today that they had a seminar that day, which they had not expected.

Friday evening was the regular gathering at the church meeting place. Nathan took the chair that night, discussing a question previously asked by Boris (Serghei Sergheiovich's Baptist father-in-law) about blasphemy of the Holy Spirit. Part of Nathan's response was Acts 7 and Stephen's statement about the Jews always resisting the Holy Spirit. From this, Boris wanted to know about "uncircumcised ears." Another question we both responded to concerned free will and God hardening hearts.

On Saturday, I went with Nathan to a nearby park area, where also is a horse training/riding area which Nathan had happened across a couple days before. We finally found the girl he had met earlier, who speaks English, and who arranged for Nathan to do some riding. It's new riding for him though. Western cowboy riding and British nobleman riding ain't exactly the same. He's learning some new things though, even some things useful for his own riding. Anyway, I went along to take pics. The girl offered for me to ride also, but it was already time for me to be leaving for an appointment with Dennis, with whom I went downtown, and among other things accomplished, I bought a scarf. In preparation and packing for this trip, I poorly estimated when cold weather would hit this part of the world, and I learned in the Czech Republic just how much a simple scarf does to keep heat inside your coat when you're outside for more than just walking to your heated car. Anyway, found a scarf at an open market for 35 lei, 3 dollars.

Serghei Sergheiovich has been sick these past several days (but is doing much better today), so neither of us had his company on Sunday. Nathan headed off north with driver Serghei to Balti to speak there Sunday morning, and I and Dennis were driven by Ivan, a friend of Serghei Sergheiovich, to Tiraspol, Serghei having suggested that Dennis accompany me to translate.

Nathan and driver Serghei never made it to Balti. It was a snowy morning as they drove north from Chisinau. It was slow going on the snow covered roads, and finally they came to one hill where many cars were having much difficulty. They eventually made it to the top of the hill, but the snow was worse beyond, and they were already far behind schedule. They might have made it all the way to Balti, but a timely return for the evening Chisinau assembly was increasingly doubtful. So they elected to turn around, and await their turn to descend the hill they had ascended, as car by car slowly went down, most with locked tires and bumping off curbs.

The roads to the southeast from Chisinau gave Dennis and me, and our driver Ivan, no trouble at all, with just a thin layer of snow that didn't even cover the whole roadway. But we had our own problem that could prevent us from reaching the assembly in Tiraspol. Dennis coming as translator was a last minute solution, and the law demands special papers for a minor to be taken across borders without being accompanied by relatives. So we didn't know if the border guards would raise the issue or not, and Serghei Sergheiovich had warned the brethren in Tiraspol that we might now show up. Thankfully, the guards let us pass.

The previous two Sundays I, or any of us, had been in Tiraspol, I had seen none of the male members in attendance (out of town on the weekend, busy with other things in town, etc.). We arrived, and only two women but three men were there! It was good to see the men there, but this is a subject needing to be addressed everywhere here. It's just that there are many subjects needing to be addressed, and you can only do so many. I wish I were here for another month or two. I asked the men if any would lead one of the prayers...they each declined, not feeling “ready.” One said he would another time, so I asked him if he would on this coming Sunday, and he agreed. I will hold him to that! Anyway, Dennis did a good job with translation, which he has just begun in these past few weeks. He has the potential to be very useful in the work here in various ways...if he will remain and not move to Canada as is the current plan.

This in fact touches on a big problem for the church here in Chisinau, and for the ability of Serghei Sergheiovich to help in the other cities. There are not men to speak of in the church in Balti, and the women lack the maturity to lead things in the church there. Serghei has been traveling to meet with them on Sunday mornings. In addition to that, three weeks ago he was given the opportunity to regularly speak in the Tiraspol church as well, where there also is no good leader, and where good leadership and good teaching is very much needed. On Sunday evenings of course Serghei meets with the church here in Chisinau for their weekly assembly. And even here in the church in Chisinau, there has been little emphasis on the various men taking part in leading within the assembly. It is something Serghei wants, but I think has not known how to effectively bring about. So he does every part of the leading within the assembly (unless Americans are present to help), with the exception that driver Serghei sometimes leads a prayer, and also covers the bases when Serghei Sergheiovich is (rarely) out of the country.

In recent days, driver Serghei has agreed to speak every other week in Balti, and on the other weeks in Tiraspol, to cover what will be left if Serghei Sergheiovich splits his Sunday mornings between those same two cities. That's a big step. And Dennis, since I have been working with him, has begun song leading and prayer leading, and I may yet get a little more out of him.

Sadly though, these two who are closest to being very useful here for Serghei Sergheiovich and for the work generally - Dennis and driver Serghei - may both be moving to the West. Dennis has plans to move to live with his father in Canada, and driver Serghei has plans to move to the States. They are only waiting for the approval of the American and Canadian governments, respectively. Pray that these two governments deny approval!

Sunday evening we all met together in Chisinau for their weekly assembly. Nathan and I both spoke. Afterward we were both able to enjoy some time in the flat of Serghei's parents (his mother is a Christian), which they share with Serghei's sister Natasha and her two sons, Dennis and Artiom. We have had little opportunity on this trip, but it is always nice to be able to visit with these people in their homes, and receive their hospitality.

Which reminds me...I found chili powder, and I planned to make chili for a group to have over before we leave. That is, until I found out today that some will not eat anything spicy (and what's the point of introducing people to American chili, if you have to make it totally bland?), and one will not eat after 6 pm. That's the second meal that's been nixed by personal preferences here (the other preference was no meat and bread in the same meal). So I'm running out of time, and I'm getting discouraged with this, and may just offer to take them out to eat. :)

Today I spoke again at the university, but not on any literary theme. Anna invited me to come and just talk with the students, so I chose to ask them questions this time, about Moldovan culture. They were much more motivated to speak up than last time when they were only given the opportunity to ask me questions, so we had good discussion. I began with Moldovan holidays, which opened the door to several ways of addressing religion. And by the way, on that previous day, I was virtually certain of Shakespeare's first name, but felt just this tinge of doubt. Plus it'd be funny to ask. But of course, I knew it's “Fred Shakespeare.” What?

To get to the university this morning, I took a minibus. There are large, normally sized trolley buses, and then there are the minibuses. The minibuses are basically oversized vans, usually Mercedes vans since they have to endure so many kilometers every day (Mercedes does not necessarily equal luxury by the way, just quality). They run certain routes like the larger buses, but you can stop them anywhere with an outstretched arm, and get off anywhere by simply telling the driver where you want him to stop. They have a seating capacity of about 13, but their actual capacity including standing room (if you can call it standing room), is closer to 25. Somebody, I'm not sure whom but it may have been Mike Morrow, came up with a phrase that aptly describes the capacity of just about any form of East European public transportation. The capacity of any of them is “x+1.” No matter how many are already in, you can always fit one more. The downsides of the minibus are that they cost 3 lei instead of 1 lei, and a person of my height has to stand in a head-scrunched-over position as the minibus lunges through traffic. So I usually take the trolley buses instead.

This morning I awaited a minibus (fortunately the one I found was unusually empty, and I got a seat). I had my three lei ready to hand over, folded in my hand. But the minibus stopped short of me and I had to walk around a couple other people on the sidewalk to get to it, single-handedly unfolding the bills in my right hand as I did so. I boarded the minibus, handed over the bills, and as I turned to close the door I heard the driver mumble something in a “hey-what-are-you-trying-to-pull” tone of voice. I looked and he was holding out my three lei...no, two lei. Oh great, what happened to my other lei?? Did I even have another one on me? About that time, a man from outside the minibus opened the door, and handed me my third lei. I must have dropped it while unfolding them, preparing to board. I said a grateful “Spasibo!” to the guy and handed that third lei to the driver, and took my seat. I was happy, but also pretty surprised, that a stranger went to the trouble to do that. Would not have expected it here.

One other incident...
While walking down the street a week ago with Nathan and Dennis, there was a manhole cover in the sidewalk, in my path. I hardly even noticed it, since, to the casual eye, it seemed to be perfectly and firmly in place. As my left foot descended on it, all my weight was shifting to it and away from my right foot. And the cover immediately spun 90 degrees vertical. My leg, with the whole weight of my body on it, fell at a rapid rate until I was able to stop the descent with my hand on the sidewalk! The picture is a partial re-enactment. Nathan had his own experience with a shifty manhole cover, but not nearly as entertaining. If you come over here, be wary of manholes and their covers.

A Couple of Easy Days

2006-11-02T00:21:00.000-05:00

Well, I got no takers on answering my latest trivia question (update: To correct myself, I did get one answer, and a correct answer at that...see in comments below). Nevertheless, if you're interested in the arts, and you visit the Russian-dominated Transnistrian city of Tiraspol, you can enter the beautiful theater there and watch the play, “I Don't Want to Live in Amerika.”

repeat from a comment below: Thanks for all the food suggestions! The lack of an oven is somewhat limiting, and my lack of cooking experience is equally limiting. Fried chicken and mashed potatoes - and apple pie - sound exactly right. Except the one time I tried frying chicken it was a disaster, and it would take quite a bit of practice to get pie crust done well. Pot roast also a very good idea...and i can do a great one at home in a crock pot (please discount the one at the WR potluck last year!)...not too sure about me and a stovetop pot roast though, seeing as I'll be representing America! I'm leaning toward chili (it's cool weather here). Besides pickles and crackers, what might you serve alongside chili? Will let you know when I decide. For the time being, Nathan requests anyone with a rice pudding recipe to send it to us. Thx!

Well, so far this week has been pretty easy. Monday of course was our Day of Rest. Tuesday we only had an appointment at the church meeting place, at which time whomever of the Christians as have time meet together for study/discussion. And today our only work was a trip to Balti.

(a hot dog we bought on the street: topped with ketchup, mayonnaise, and shredded carrots. Ya know, once you open your mind to some things, they're actually kinda good:)

Since we had most of Tuesday free, we used the time to get some things done around town, and since school is out this week, we had Dennis along for translation in places where no English was spoken. First was a stop at the hospital to see Valerii, a Christian here who is already missing one leg from the knee down, and gangreene has infected his other foot also, necessitating the removal of the little toe and big toe. We arrived at his room just 30 minutes after he returned from surgery. Seems that things went well, although due to weakness of heart, they were not able to fully anesthetise the area. The doctor also did some work on his veins to restore blood flow to his remaining leg, and Valerii showed us that his leg is now warm, for the first time in (I think) months. He now has hope that with crutches he can be mobile and get outside again. Except for wheelchair trips to the doctor or to the assemblies here, he apparently hasn't been outside in several months. We asked (through translation of course) if he needed anything from the store and he requested grapefruit, cottage cheese, and water. We told him we'd return with the goods later in the day.

(following are some pics I took during a walk to the center this evening; at right, evening falls in the park)

Nathan, Dennis, and I then headed downtown to finish our investigation of options for the trip to Turkey. First stop was the car rental agency I had contacted before leaving the States. Got a price on a diesel Ford Fusion (I believe it's smaller and different than the American version). Turns out the “unlimited kilometers” I had been promised was only for driving within Moldova. Price is still doable though. Then we got an air fare quote to see if we could beat what Nathan found a few days ago; we missed the earlier price by one Euro. Then checked buses to Turkey. Turns out that the bus lines shut down their routes to Turkey this late in the year. Happy about that. And because of the few flights going between here and Istanbul, we can get there as soon or even sooner by car. We're pretty much decided on renting here and driving.

Got a very late lunch in the center, and then it was time to get a haircut. Had dreaded this. Got it cut in Starkville last minute to make it last as long as possible. Thankfully, Dennis was with us and at least I could give some instruction. And actually, it looks pretty much like my normal haircuts, though I would have preferred a little more cut off. Finished our 5 hour trip to town by stopping by the hospital again to drop off the food items for Valerii.

Then last night was our Tuesday night study at the church meeting place. Only a few were present, so I held off on my planned study, and answered a question Serghei Sergheiovich's father-in-law had about translations and the reasons for their differences. The rest of the time, Serghei had Nathan and me teach them some new songs, which he again recorded as per the procedure previously described.

(Stephen the Great, ruler of Moldova from 1457 to 1504; statesman and military tactician; defended Moldova against the Ottoman invasion, building churches or monasteries in thanks to God after each victory)

Today we were in Balti, where I answered questions about how to deal with one who is not listening to counsel and admonition. This grows out of the decision and announcement that Serghei made a couple of weeks ago, that he would no longer give financial assistance to the ladies there unless it were a dire situation (see Oct. 16 entry, “Settling Into Moldova”). On Sunday of this week, one of the ladies about whom Serghei had worried that material help might be a central motivator asked for help again. When she was answered in the negative, she became upset and said she would not be back. Thus the question in Balti today.

(intersection of Pushkin St. and
Stephen-the-Great; government building in background)

Tomorrow morning should be interesting. I mentioned last week that one of the ladies from the Benderi congregation would be inviting all those of the Benderi congregation to come to her flat this week to hear some discussion on the problems of institutionalism, power centers within the congregation, and on what is going on in that congregation (see Oct. 26 entry, “Developments in Tiraspol/Benderi”). Then on Sunday there were some developments within the Benderi congregation, of which I am as of yet unclear, but will find out on the way in the morning as we drive to Benderi for that meeting. I see obstacles to reaching very many: there appears to be in a number of them a desire to accept many things if they can just keep what American money has bought them, a very nice building, clothing, and big meals bought and paid for. But we will see what can be accomplished, and hope that a number will come.

Concordance Results, etc.

2006-10-30T14:41:00.000-05:00

Answer to the previous trivia question:

Being the ill-informed guys we are concerning the works of Shakespeare, Nathan and I were both amused that we had been invited to lecture university students on the famous playwright. So it was pretty funny to both of us, as we headed off to do the lecture, that I had enough slim shadow of a doubt in my mind that I asked him, “Hey, what was Shakespeare's first name?” We further imagined the situation had we stood before the class, talking about, for example, Howard Shakespeare. Well, anyway, only one of you (brer Jeff) committed to the correct answer. Several of the rest of you fell for my primary decoy answer concerning misplaced lecture notes. :) And to John L.: correct, that only a real occurrence might have inspired answer #3. To excuse him though, it was when he was in perhaps the second grade, and I think asked by his teacher, and apparently also by his older sister.

New question:

What play is currently showing in the Tiraspol theater, over in Russian dominated Transnistria?

I Don't Want to Live in Amerika
Earnest Goes to Siberia
The Taming of the Amerikan
Capitalist Pig in Moscow

Friday morning we were off to Balti, to see the results of the concordance exercise I had given the ladies there. I was looking forward to it, having heard that parting word from one of them two days before, “Thanks for giving us this work to do.” Vyera met us outside as she often does, and warned us that it might be a small group today. “The heat just got turned on in Balti today, so it seems some of them didn't want to leave their warm homes.” (more about heat in moment; and pictured at left is Vyera, very likeable lady) We got inside and only one other lady was present – the one who had thanked me for giving them the work. Another lady came late, but she is one who had not been present the day I gave them the work. I was disappointed, and also worried that I had been unwise in designing the task. Bummer.

Well, we discussed what these two ladies had found, and a little more about how to use the concordances, and headed back to Chisinau. On Sunday, I was in Tiraspol so I didn't get to see what happened in Balti that day, but Nathan and first Serghei were there. They said that several of the ladies absent on Friday were there and telling things about what they found in their concordance study, so I was much relieved. Apparently the heat really was the contributing factor to their absence on Friday.

The heat for the majority of people here is produced in a few central locations through the city, and is in the form of heated water. The water is pumped throughout the city, underground, into the buildings, and then through radiators in the various rooms of each flat. Friday was the day that Balti decided to start heating and pumping water. Here in Chisinau we still await such a decision. Since the people are poor, they tend to prefer enduring the cold longer, rather than to pay for heat, so the city holds off until it's “cold enough.” We've had one hard freeze, and daytime temps have been 50s and 60s mostly, maybe some in the 40s.

And a word about the Sergheis. I don't prefer calling them 1^st and 2^nd Serghei, and then there is the less than ideal teacher in Benderi, a third Serghei. Henceforth, I will name them differently.

Serghei Corcimaru is the man here teaching and preaching, who is responsible for nearly all the growth that has happened here. Converted in Moscow during his university studies, he then moved back home to Moldova and started teaching, thus reaching the others. He's the one I met 7 years ago. I will henceforth call him Serghei Sergheiovich, as per Russian naming. Middle names in Russian are a form of the child's father's name, and as it happens, Serghei's father is also named Serghei; thus he is Serghei Sergheiovich.

Then there is our driver, Serghei, a member of the church here who has been driving us to Balti and sometimes to Transnistria in his cargo van. I will call him driver Serghei.

And lastly, there is Serghei in the Transnistrian city of Benderi, who is less than cooperative with the Christians there. He will continue to be Benderi Serghei.

Saturday I was invited by Natasha (Serghei Sergheiovich's sister) to go with her and her son Dennis to the open market to find some clothes for him. They found what they needed, and I found a hat to keep my head dry when it's raining. Ten bucks, I was happy.

Meanwhile, Nathan was going with Serghei Sergheiovich to take Valerii to the hospital for a surgery to happen this week. He is the one I mentioned in one of my first blog posts back on about October 5. He will have two toes to his remaining foot removed, due to gangreene. I went later in the day to visit him, Dennis coming also to translate, and Nathan returning with us to show me where he was in the building. The hospital was a dreary looking place, and the food looked worse. But Valerii (on the right) had food that Serghei Sergheiovich had given him that morning, so he turned down the offer of ???? that the nurse offered. The guy on the left was friendly and asked us some spiritually oriented questions, but wasn't interested in pursuing any study.

On Sunday, Driver Serghei took me to Tiraspol to lead the assembly there, while Nathan and Serghei Sergheiovich went to Balti. I spoke to the church in Tiraspol (five present) about the work of the church, and planned to discuss related ideas during the discussion period that would follow. During my lesson though, there was much getting up and returning, answering of cell phones, etc. At the end of the assembly, one lady explained that her building had flooded that morning, and as a result the discussion period was eliminated. Hopefully I'll get to cover that material on another visit soon.

That afternoon here in Chisinau, I presented the same material, and did get to cover the additional material. It went quite well I thought, and they understood the points very well and quickly.

Today has been our “Day of Rest.” Nathan and I both went to town separately, partly exploring, partly shopping. I was searching for Sun City, reportedly the biggest grocery store in town. They're usually pretty small here. I happened across a different grocery store in the center that was pretty good, and its upper floors are surely the mall I had been told about. But this wasn't the part of town where I had been told to look for Sun City, so I went on the area to which I'd been directed. I had my doubts about the area, and sure enough, it was all embassies and hotels. Oh well, I'll maybe find it later. For the moment, I headed back to the one I had found by mistake to buy my day's groceries. Approaching it from a different direction, I saw a huge sign on the building. “Sun City.” Turns out also that the whole building, grocery store plus mall, is “Sun City.”

While I was exploring the mall, I saw a shop that sells leather coats. I've wanted a good leather coat for a long time, but have always been unwilling to pay the prices in the States. So I thought I'd check this store out. Really good looking coats, and sleeves sufficiently long...usually it's very difficult for me to find good length. Checked the prices: 390, 450...Wow! At 13 lei to the dollar, I figured quickly that that's less than $50! Started trying them on. While I had one on, the girl showed the price tag, and said “price in American dollars.” Rats. Oh well.

This afternoon we met Driver Serghei's wife Irina at the church meeting place, where she is teaching children. She got the idea to find kids in the neighborhood of the meeting place whose parents would appreciate something for their kids to do in the afternoon, and who have no one at home with them, and to teach them five days a week, plus Sundays. We sat in on her lessons today, and enjoyed watching her teach the 5 kids present, one of them Natasha's younger son, Artiom. Artiom is a clown, and always loves the camera, as you can see in the picture. Irina taught them about some of Jesus' miracles, and then had them memorize John 20:30. Dennis (at far right) was there to translate for Nathan and me.

Finally, if you didn't yet notice the brief post I made early this morning, about food suggestions, please scroll down just a bit more and take note. :)

Two Questions

2006-10-30T03:37:00.000-05:00

Just a quick post here, a full one will be posted later today (with the previous trivia questioned answered).

1) I'm taking suggestions (actually requesting help) on what typically American meal we should prepare for a few of the Moldovans. Restriction: It can't be something like hamburgers that includes both bread and meat - due to the peculiarities of a couple of people involved. Bobbie, you might let me know if there are any meals you already prepared for them when you were here.

2) What cartoon character did the clothes on my chair look like when I woke up this morning?

All for now. Gotta run.

Developments in Tiraspol/Benderi

2006-10-26T16:11:00.000-04:00

The first of several trivia questions in this and following posts:

What did I ask Nathan as we were leaving to go present the Shakespeare Lecture?

1. What? Didn't you get directions?

2. Hey, what was Shakespeare's first name?

3. Nathan...why is your shirt tucked into your underwear?

4. Uh oh...do you know where I put my lecture notes?

Post your guesses below!

So, the night before the Shakespeare lecture, Serghei's wife Anna told us that we would also be meeting the department head, who allows these lectures by Anna's Christian friends to take place in the university classroom. She further said that we would need to bring some English books as a gift for the woman, and that since we had no way of knowing that ahead of time, that she was already prepared to bring two books she had been given by Americans, she would give them to us, and we could present them to the department head. In the end, I had one somewhat suitable English book with me, with which I could easily part, so we were able to convince Anna to keep the better of the two books she was going to provide.

We enjoyed presenting the lecture. I presented a summary of the play, related the biblical background of its themes, and discussed one of those themes in relation to the play and in general; Nathan then discussed a second theme. There were 40-45 second year English students, only two of which were guys. During the Q&A afterward, nearly all the questions were asked by the two guys. Several questions focused on spiritual things. A few examples: Must we show mercy (a theme of the play) to those who oppose us? What religion are Nathan and I? Were there denominations in the first century? (-in response to my emphasis on the problem of denominationalism and religious division) We had good discussion and made good points. And of course there were other questions of a more general nature. After one of the girls asked our ages, one of the two guys asked her “Which one do you like more?” Also have some indication that the other guy might be willing to study with me.

Tuesday evening was a gathering at the church's meeting place, where Nathan presented a follow-up study to his Sunday morning class discussion of types in the OT.

Next day was Wednesday, which means the road trip to Balti and the women there. Just before Brace Rutledge left here, he talked to the women in Balti about personal study, and spoke to them about the use of a concordance to aid in their study. He also purchased several Russian language concordances for them. On Wednesday, I reminded them of that study and of using concordances, and then provided several words/topics to look up. I let them choose which ones they each wanted. They were to take 20 minutes or more to gather some passages, learn something new or see something interesting about their topic, and be able to tell us all what they found. Well, as any of you who have been to Balti know, it can be a difficult group to keep control of, as they do like to talk. It took forever to get the idea across, to make the topic assignments, and help them get started. By this time, one of the women said that this hour study was really not enough for this, and suggested they take the concordances home, do the work, and we can pull it all together next time. Great idea! So that's the plan, and we go there again tomorrow to see what they have found. As we were winding up on Tuesday, one of the women told me, “Thanks for giving us this work to do.” Yes! That made me feel good. And thanks to Brace for introducing them to the concordance.

Wednesday evening Natasha and son Dennis ate supper with us. I had last minute bought something that looked like steaks to cook, tomatoes to do my Mom's broiled tomatoes, potatoes to boil, and bread. Got home and remembered I can't broil the tomatoes because our stove's oven doesn't work (doesn't even have a door). But I tried something new with them, and it actually turned out really good, and similar taste to what I wanted anyway. Potatoes were good (Nathan's work), except he didn't know to put salt in (but that was easily fixed on our plates), and having potatoes with the peeling was a bit new for Natasha. Then the beef. Found out when Dennis read the label that it was veal. Cool! But how to cook them? No grill, so I just did them in a teflon skillet. Probably not long enough. Or something. I dunno. They looked like they might be done, so we served everything up. As far as rare, medium, or well -done is concerned they were about right. But not very tender. In fact not even a little tender. “Really hard to chew” would be close to the right phrase. We all ate some anyway. At one point, Dennis picked his up with both hands, and tug-bit a hunk out of it. It was sometime near that point in the meal when he looked at me and said, “Not the best meat I ever had.” Well, we all enjoyed the company at least. And the other dishes were good. When they were leaving, Natasha asked for a toothpick like Dennis had, and walking out the door, said “I go outside, and I will continue to eat meat.”

(At left, a park in the city center; at right, the building where we live)

THIS MORNING: TIRASPOL/BENDERI

Nathan and I were prepared with material for questions previously asked when we met with Christians in Tiraspol this morning, several from the Tiraspol church, and three from the Benderi church (both established by inst. brethren). But as soon as everyone was seated, two began relating events from the Benderi church; that one of the them, an older lady, had asked what the collection money was being spent on, and had been told that this information was only the business of the person who had been appointed to take care of the money, that the members had no right to ask such questions, that the preacher there (yet another Serghei) was more mature and knew the justifications for however it is being spent, and that this is sufficient. After more questioning, in particular as to why money wasn't being given to those of the church who are in need, the answer was that the money wasn't being spent on this because it was rather being spent on refreshments/tea for when the people assemble. This woman asking had then come under criticism by many of the rest in Benderi, and only one spoke up to defend her (Sasha, also present this morning).

Serghei Corcimaru responded to some of this and to other important matters, and I discussed the openness of church decision making in the NT church (Acts 6, 15); that churches, not select individuals, were responsible for sending moneys for 1^st century purposes; that Paul took measures to handle money honorably in the sight of men; and finally, that such refreshments are not part of the work of the church in the first place. The woman appreciated these points, and asked what they should do, how to handle the situation they are in. Since “Benderi Serghei” clearly will not listen, I suggested she make efforts to share these things with the others. When she said she didn't think she would be able to present it well, I offered for Serghei and I to go with her. So she is planning to invite any and all from the Benderi church to her flat next week, with us there to discuss these things with them. I ask your prayers, and welcome any suggestions.

Lenin, Stalin, and Shakespeare

2006-10-23T19:12:00.000-04:00

Chisinau, and especially Transnistria, still have shadows of the communist era. On Saturday morning Nathan and I roamed around the downtown area, and came across the monument pictured here. I don't know yet what the inscription says, but the third word is clearly a reference to Lenin. Farther on, back between some buildings in the center of town, we saw a statue in disrepair that looks to me to surely be Stalin, though it seems he was discredited by later communists, and would not be represented in public in the years since. Am I right? Am I even right that the statue is Stalin?? I'll have to work on that later.

But it's when you enter Transnistria that you really see the Soviet era propaganda. I'm not sure yet what this sign in Benderi says, but notice the hammer and sickle at the top. The third photo shows a huge propaganda monument in the middle of a Benderi traffic circle, that speaks of progress, hope, hard work, etc. Another large sign has three large medallions featuring “CCCP” (USSR) and also the hammer and sickle repeatedly. In Transnistria, these images are more than just shadows of the past.

Serghei, Nathan, and I had a good discussion/study with Zhenya (Eugene, 30ish or less) Saturday at noon, that lasted 3 hours. He has investigated a number of religious groups, and at times felt at home with some, but is still searching. Lately he has been associating with the Christians here. He had several questions, and seemed to be satisfied with our answers for the most part. From Serghei, it sounds like Zhenya, for the moment, is just lacking the decisiveness to commit.

On Sunday, Nathan preached in Balti, with Second Serghei teaching. Serghei Corcimaru and I went to Tiraspol in the morning, where Serghei directed the assembly. This is the church established by institutional brethren, but which are displeased with the man supposedly preaching for them. Several were absent, but Sasha from Benderi came to join us and those present. I preached in both Tiraspol and in Chisinau, with Nathan teaching a study period in Chisinau. In both Tiraspol and Chisinau I preached on the need for involvement by all in the work and assemblies of the church. It's a much needed topic here, and one that Serghei requested even before I came. I've seen a little fruit from this effort already. I hope I will see considerably more.

Today was our “Day of Rest,” which means we were able last week to know we would have time today for an appointment with the two college girls who initially wanted to speak with us for English language improvement. One of them at least, is sincerely interested in learning why we believe in the Bible and in God – though this may be a mere academic interest as I sometimes found in the Czech Republic. At any rate, we studied for about an hour and a half...and covered what I might cover in the States in about 25 to 30 minutes. Their English skills are not so developed yet, which makes for slow going. I spoke with them about the problem of sin (Gen 1-3) to indicate the need for a Savior to come, and then started in with the OT prophecies, having hoped to get into typology a little bit. We didn't even finish the few basic prophetic passages I had in mind. But we have another appointment for Friday, and even if we don't get very far before our departure, I think it might be far enough for her to want to start meeting with Serghei. The girls are both named Christina, and the picture was made at our door just before they left today.

Most of the rest of the day was spent in preparation for our lecture tomorrow at the teachers' university here in Chisinau. Serghei Corcimaru's wife Anna teaches English there, and has invited us to speak on Shakespeare, in a way that can link to Biblical principles. Quite a task I figured....especially since, as best I can remember, I have never read anything that Shakespeare ever wrote. Which is why, when she offered me some lecture topics a few months ago, I reserved the topic “How the King James Version Influenced the English Language.” Unfortunately for me, someone here a few weeks previous to me (initials JMS) stole that topic and left me with the Bard! Actually, though, having investigated one play in particular, I think our efforts with Shakespeare will lead to a better link to actual Biblical teaching than the KJV lecture would have. Ever read “The Merchant of Venice”? Very entertaining trial scene, but more significantly, it looks like Shakespeare was deliberately borrowing Biblical principles concerning justice and mercy, in his story of a Jew and a Christian at court. The Jew is insisting on the full and harsh execution of justice against the Christian who is financially indebted to him, and unable to pay. Portia, as a lawyer exhorts Shylock:

“And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy...”

So, Nathan and I tell the story, then academically (one cannot proselytize on campus) point out that Shakespeare was basing his story on principles found the in the scriptures of Christianity, and elaborate on that. Then take questions for 40 minutes. Wise as serpents, innocent as doves. I hope it goes well.

Transnistria, and other news

2006-10-20T17:53:00.000-04:00

Yesterday morning (thurs.) we headed off to Transnistria, the Russian dominated region along the eastern border of Moldova. At the border, the first stop is at the Moldovan checkpoint. Another quartermile and we arrive at another checkpoint with first a few Russians, and 100 feet further to the Transnistrian guards. The Russian who checked us asked our driver, second Serghei, “What are you carrying, a load of guns?” All in jest, though he did look us over well, as they do each time. Headed on in to the Transnistrian cities of Benderi and Tiraspol (see Moldova map link at right), where the two churches established by institutional brethren are. This is the regular trip each Thursday. Driving through Benderi, we passed a police checkpoint, which are common all over both parts of Moldova: police stand at the roadside watching for which vehicles they want to direct to the side of the road for inspection. Traveling in a cargo van, we get stopped almost every time. So there in Benderi, we were stopped again. The Russian/Transnistrian (?) officer asked Serghei where we were going, pretended not to hear, and then leaned in way too close, to hear the repeated answer. He was getting close enough to smell Serghei's breath, checking for drunkeness. As we pulled away, Serghei said with a smile, “That's why on Thursdays I always do not use toothpaste.”

The situation in Benderi and Tiraspol is in a state of flux. There is an American institutional preacher who visits here, Ken G., who is the legal owner of the building just being completed in Benderi, and who according to the Christians there, dictates whatever is allowed there, and whatever decisions are made there. He is the man whom we met two weeks previous when he was visiting from America. The Christians there enjoy Serghei's studies with them each Thursday, and the native preacher supported by the Americans does not study with them. Ken G. is working to find someone to move to Transnistria, and that someone will surely be someone whom Ken G. hopes will supplant Serghei's influence there. Well, Serghei wrote Ken G., asking if he could use their building to study with the Christians in Benderi. Ken G. replied in the negative, accused Serghei of trying to buy the Benderi/Tiraspol Christians with gifts (completely unfounded), and said that there was no point discussing anything with Serghei, since debates are always fruitless and he tries to avoid fruitless endeavors. Serghei replied with an excellent letter, in which he mentioned near the end that he would share both these letters with the Benderi/Tiraspol Christians, and would share any further correspondence with them as well, including any arguments Ken G. might want to make.

So that was on the table for our study in Tiraspol (with Christians present from both cities), and we hoped to have a study either of previous questions or of the institutional issues, at their choice. In fact though, the entire time was taken with discussing the letters and their thoughts about Ken G. and how things should be. The result was that the Tiraspol Christians asked Serghei to start coming on Sundays to lead their assemblies. So Sunday morning Serghei and I will travel to Tiraspol, while Second Serghei and Nathan will travel to Balti as normal. I believe (and hope) I will be doing at least some of the teaching in Tiraspol this Sunday. Then on Sunday evening we will have the Chisinau assembly.

Thursday evening we met with several of the local Christians again, and I discussed the work of the Holy Spirit, as per their previous question. I thought it went very well, with lots of discussion.

Late yesterday evening, I had a chance to call two girls whose numbers I had been given, and who had requested the opportunity of speaking with Nathan and me and in English, for improvement in their language skills. It's sometimes funny how foreigners put things in English (as I'm sure it is when I put things in their languages). “Appointment” is not a word they learn early on. But they do learn another word indicating an occasion when people agree to meet. When I called the first one and identified myself, she said “I would like a date with you and to speak English.” Well, the four of us had the “date” this afternoon between other studies. We were hoping that we might be able to interest them in spiritual things, and at least one of them appears to have some interest. They both claim to be Orthodox, but rarely attend any services, though their parents go from time to time. During our conversation, I spoke some about what we are doing here, and about the nature of my faith. I then turned the conversation in a different direction, but shortly thereafter one of the girls brought it back to faith, saying she found this interesting and would like to know more about the reasons I believe in God. That was what I was hoping to see, so we made another appointment for Monday afternoon.

I have neglected to tell about our relocation. The flat normally occupied by Americans who visit the church here was obviously occupied by Larry and Brace when we got here, so we were staying in a flat owned by Serghei's mother-in-law. She and her daughter (Serghei's wife) lived there some years ago when they were especially poor, and the flat reflects that fact. After Larry and Brace's departure early this week, we have been able to move in to this nicer, more comfortable flat. I didn't really want to live more upscale than the average Moldovan, so I asked Serghei and he says that this flat is about the average kind of flat here in Chisinau. We have a bedroom, a living room that doubles as a second bedroom, bathroom facilities, and a kitchen (pictured). My bedroom (also pictured) is the living room bedroom. I like it better, and Nathan likes his better. Excellent!

This morning it was again a road trip, to have a study with the women in Balti. We studied Romans 12, with much discussion. So much, that I didn't really get to say everything I had wanted to say. :) But we enjoy being there, especially due to Vera, who is such an active and cheerful person. Then this afternoon was our “date” with the two girls learning English, and this evening was another gathering at the Chisinau church's meeting place. Some who had asked questions the night before were not present this evening, so instead of dealing with those issues, Serghei decided to use the time and to use us to learn some new songs they don't know here. The Russian songbook has over 400 songs, many of them translated from English. For each song we knew and they didn't, Serghei had Nathan and me sing one verse in soprano, a second verse with Nathan still soprano and me on bass, and a third with both of us singing bass. He would record this part with a digital recorder, and then we and the ones gathered all sang the song together. It seems clear we will be doing more of this.

Tomorrow, Saturday, is some time to run downtown, a study with a non-Christian at noon, Singing/Russian with Dennis at 3, and supper at Serghei and Anna's at 6.

Cluck or Moo?

2006-10-18T17:15:00.001-04:00

Tuesday morning we were free of studies, so went by Serghei's flat for a little while at midday, discussed some things, and were able to give him a hand in installing a window. We also took a load of our laundry to a small clothes washing establishment. It's a room in the half-exposed basement of a panelak apartment building several blocks away. The room is maybe about 12'x17', with 3 or 4 washing machines, one in mid-repair. Brace and Larry recommended the place to us, largely on account of the way the lady running the place seemed to take pride in her work. Of course she didn't speak any English, and Nathan and I have only about 3 Russian words between the two of us (okay it's not quite that bad), but setting a bag of dirty laundry on the counter of a clothes washing establishment said much of what we needed to say! With hands pointed to darks and whites, then the separation of the hands, and the similarity between the Russian and Czech words for separated (I know Czech), we were able to confirm that yes we wanted colors washed separately. With a little confusion at first, we were able to understand that our clothes would be ready two days later (the inoperable washer apparently slowing them down from their normal next-day service). Her name is Daria, and we told her our names. She seems to be a nice woman.

We also made a stop at the grocery store. When my parents were in the Czech Republic and Mom needed ground beef, she went down to the butcher shop, waited her turn, and then did the meat grinding motion with her hands, while simultaneously saying, "Mooo-oooo." It worked. And I believe the butcher was very cooperative, as she was an attractive and dignified lady...just didn't mind being humble. Well, Nathan got her genes...at least on the first count. In the grocery store, Nathan was at a glass counter in an area similar to a deli, and was examining some items rolled in some sort of bread wrap. Neither of us could tell what kind of meat was inside. So Nathan got eye contact with the girl behind the counter, and then, with folded arms mimicking flapping wings, said, "Cluck-cluck-clu-clu-cluck" with appropriate tones, and then, "or Mooo-oooo?" Unlike Mom, Nathan's question called for the worker to also say what the animal says - and this girl was not about to do it. I wish I had had my camera ready for her facial expression. She had half a smile showing some amusement, but the rest of her expression said both "You are a nut," and also "You don't really think I'm gonna do that, do you?" We both looked at her expectantly anyway. Finally, she shifted her head a bit and then held up two fingers, meaning the second one, beef.

When evening came, there was a study at the church's meeting place for whomever wanted to come, which usually seems to be a majority of the Christians here. I had planned a certain lesson for this hour, related to the fact that Serghei does most of the leading in the assemblies here - discussing prayer needs, leading singing, choosing prayer leaders, distributing the Lord's supper, and when such as we are not around, preaching and teaching. Of course Serghei would like very much for others to be taking their part in those leadership matters and further developing themselves. So I had planned a lesson to address that need, but for last night's meeting only a few of the Christians were able to be present. So instead, I simply took questions. One was a request for a discussion of the meaning of Col. 4:16. Another was about the phrase "the last days," and when that period is. Spiritual gifts and whether the Holy Spirit might talk to us directly was another subject asked about. From that last question came a more general question about the role of the Holy Spirit today, which we will discuss tomorrow night (Thursday night) at a similar meeting of the Christians.

Just before going to that study last night, I noticed water in our flat around the bottom of the toilet, and no water pressure anywhere else. As a result of the leak, the building superintendent had apparently turned off the water for the whole building. The lady from whom we are renting this flat, a member of the church here, came over after the study, made some calls, got a temporary fix, and the water turned back on, and a repairman would come in the morning.

Then this morning (Wednesday), we were on the road at 7:45 to make the trip to Balti again to study with the women up there. Second Serghei drove us in his van as usual, and we had good conversation the whole way, the two+ hour trip passing quite quickly. We were glad to find several of the women present, especially after the announcement that Serghei had had to make on Sunday morning. I presented a lesson on Joy from Philippians 1, and they seemed to respond very well as we discussed Paul's situation and the joy and optimism hs nevertheless had, by focusing on the good things rather than on the bad. We are thinking that we will use that begining to take them through a study of Philippians, since their studies don't usually seem to cover books as a whole.

When we got home from Balti in the early afternoon, the plumber was still here, and we didn't get water until about 5:30 this evening. But everything seems to be solved now.

We were to have a study this evening with the older couple who are recent converts. But Serghei's nephew called to say that it had been cancelled (the man wasn't feeling well), and asking if he could come over for more "Russian/Singing" lessons. So that's how our evening was spent, followed by discussion of the studies on schedule for tomorrow. It should be an interesting day, but I'll save that for my next entry. :)

Settling Into Moldova

2006-10-16T16:37:00.000-04:00

Nathan and I arrived back in Chisinau Moldova about supper time on Saturday. Just before dark, we decided to walk in the direction of the city center, partly for simple exploration (we haven't been more than a few blocks away, except in a crowded van or bus), and partly to get our bearings. We were both confident that we are south of the center, so we started walking north. Made a kilometer or more, and seemed to be approaching the edge of town. Decided that our flat must be on the southeast corner, so we headed west, supposing that we would then run into more of the city. No luck. Turns out we are on the northeast side of town. We eventually made it nearly to the center, but still didn't quite find it, and with the help of a bus, found our way back to the McDonalds near our flat where we got our supper (today we finally found a city map, with which we feel much better oriented...we bought one each).

McDonalds is a bit different here. For starters, they serve beer. The other difference is the clientele. McDonalds prices are pretty expensive for your average eastern European, and especially so for residents of Moldova. So the only ones who frequent the place are the few who are wealthy (most everyone in Moldova is quite poor...but then there are the few who were positioned well to enrich themselves when the change in government came some years ago). On Saturday evening, it was full of the wealthy, as could be seen by simply checking the parking lot and watching the drive-thru: late model Audis, BMWs, Mercedes, and Range Rovers. We on the other hand had walked 4-5 km to get there!

They have better restaurants however. Today, just before the departure of Brace and Larry for their return to the States, the four of us went to a restaurant downtown where Brace had once eaten on an earlier trip. Nathan had lamb. I had pork cutlet and stuffed eggplant. All very good. The service was better than any restaurant I think I've ever been in. The customary greeting just inside the door is with cups of wine for men, and flowers for ladies (he seemed a bit aloof when we didn't take the wine). Napkins on the table forming little cones, starched beyond belief. Waiters who speak four or five langauges, dressed in traditional Moldovan costume. We had some extras such as special teas and desserts, and the bill for four was about $45. Still, we'll probably eat there again only once before we leave. It's just so far above the average Moldovan's ability.

Sunday morning we were outside at 6:40 am to be picked up by Second Serghei in his van, with First Serghei and his sister already on board. Nathan and Brace and I joined the group for the ride to Balti to meet with the assembly there, made up almost entirely by women. They meet in the home of Vera (sp?), the lady standing next to me -on a chair- in the photo. She is exuberant and a very likable person. Standing between Nathan and me is Serghei Corcimaru (first Serghei).

One big problem in Balti has been jealousy over the benevolence given to them by American brethren, through the hands of Serghei. Serghei is tasked with the difficult job of giving those funds to the various saints there and elsewhere according to their need, deciding who is really in need and who is not. Some appear to be more interested in the financial help than in spiritual things, and become jealous when they think they need something more than another. At least a couple of them are suspected by the others to be attending mainly for the purpose of getting this financial help. All this has created friction within the group, and in Serghei's description, the financial help turns their interest to physical needs and clouds their interest in spiritual things. On this Sunday, Brace presented a very good lesson on gratitude and serving even in difficulties, and I presented a lesson on the miracles of Jesus (a previous question of theirs), focusing on the idea that the real purpose of the miracles wasn't to solve all the physical problems of everyone; in addition to being evidence, those miracles taught something about the nature of the real purpose of Christ: healing our spiritual blindness, cleansing us of spiritual disease. At the close, Serghei made an annoucement concerning the benevolence he had been providing: that it must cease. He told them he would like to help them in both ways, spiritual needs and physical needs, but that the provision of physical assistance was interfering with their ability to receive spiritual help...and so he must choose one or the other; that being the case, he said his choice had to be spiritual assistance alone (except in exceptional cases). I could see in the faces of a couple of them that they were not at all happy about this (and at least one of those two is one whom the others suspect of being mainly motivated by financial help); but others seemed to understand.

Later in the day we were back here in Chisinau to meet with the local assembly, where Brace and Larry presented their final lessons before returning to the States.

Today, Monday, is in Serghei's words our Day of Rest. No studies. Thus the trip to the center and shopping, and the restaurant described above. This evening though, Serghei's nephew came over to the flat Nathan and I are sharing. Dennis (the English form of his name) is a very bright 14 year old, a Christian, and speaking English just about as well as Serghei himself. But he has never really learned to sing, so I had offered last evening to give him some singing lessons tonight in exchange for some Russian lessons, or as he calls them, our singing Russian lessons. He saw for the first time that he can sing and sound good, and is eager for more help in the coming weeks. Nathan had been writing on the computer a few feet away, when he surprised us with the flash of the camera while Dennis was helping me with Russian. One other note: Dennis led Nathan and me in prayer this evening, in which he included, "...and we pray for the kids who are on the street, and cold, that You will help them and comfort them, and let them be warm."

Getting Caught Up

2006-10-15T18:44:00.000-04:00

Okay, this is the fourth entry I've written today, in an effort to get my blogging caught up to the calendar. I could have put it all in one entry, except uploading pictures takes forever with dial-up, so it's easier to get it done in separate entries. SO...to read these in chronological order, scroll down to the entry entitled "Long Time, No Blog," and work your way up from there.

Additionally, I need to contact some of you. Would John Lawrence, Noemie Arrellano, and Ryan Gilchrest each email me. Thanks! (I don't have email addresses with me)

Catching Up: Wednesday-Saturday

2006-10-15T17:31:00.001-04:00

Our host in South Bohemia (the region of CZ where I lived) was Roman Vacha, a very good friend of mine, but not a Christian. In addition to looking forward to seeing him, I was hoping to renew our conversations about God and the Bible. The latter was only minimally realized. Roman simply doesn't think God exists, and believes he is too busy to spend much time investigating the possibility. Busy he is...but not too busy for that. We did enjoy seeing one another again though.

For our second day there, Roman had a trip planned for Nathan and me. We went at midday by car to Kvilda with bikes mounted on top; then rode some 20 kilometers one-way: through Sumava (nearly equivalent to the Blue Ridge Mountains), crossing the border into Germany; stopped along the way to pick and eat a few wild blueberries from the low-growing blueberry bushes that cover the forest floor; through the German town of Finsterau, and up the lower reaches of Luzny mountain, and then hiked the rest of the way up to the peak, for really great views. The biking trail was not along a ridge, meaning lots of ascents and descents...of course mostly ascents. Nathan and I were both beat by the end of the day, me worse than him. As I told Roman during the ride, when I lived over here for 5 years, I had European legs (lots of walking and riding kept them in good shape), but I unfortunately have American legs these days. Still, it was a great trip and a great day, some 40 km round trip. Near the end of the ride, we stopped at the source of the Vltava River which runs through the Czech Republic, including through the city I used to live in and through the heart of Prague. The spring was bubbling with cold clear good tasting water. It was my third time to visit the source, and it was nearly completely dark by the time we got there. After much picture taking, Roman opened his thermos and gave us each some hot tea he had prepared that morning. Temp was down to around 40, so the tea felt good.

Thursday, Nathan and I made a hasty tour of Cesky Krumlov, crown jewel of South Bohemia. It's a small town with the Vltava winding through its heart, looping, nearly redoubling on itself three times. On the precipice above one bend of the river is the castle, overlooking the city below. And the city itself still has the feel of a town of a few hundred years ago. I'll never tire of visiting this place. Heading out the lower end of the castle grounds is a bridge over what might be called a dry moat: a depressed area where 3 bears were and are kept to guard the entrance area. But we were rushed by the time we reached this point, and took less than 10 seconds to see if the bears were in view to be photographed. Didn't see them in view so began running onward to insure we didn't miss our bus out of town. But on that bridge above the “dry moat” were two other men as well, in clothing we both found interesting: the traditional Austrian pants to just below the knees, with long thick socks all the way up. Recall we had only slowed down enough to spend not even 10 seconds “looking for the bears” and neither of us knew the other had the same additional agenda. Getting safely out of ear shot of the bridge, Nathan said as we ran, “I got two pictures of the backs of those men,” to which I replied “Oh cool! I got one of their front.” Crazy Americans.

Just catching the bus, we went to Ceske Budejovice for the afternoon and evening. Though they were unable to host us longer, Jindra and Misa Kubicek had invited us for supper (excellent gulash and dumplings), along with the mother of each of them. All four are members of the church in Ceske Budejovice, with which I used to work. Jindra and Misa were two of the ones I was closest to, and it was a memorable evening. Jindra wasn't quite home from work when we arrived, and Misa was still busy with preparations, so it was their two girls (age 7 and 4) who took us out to the garden (Czechs don't say back yard, they say garden, and this one has truly and always been a garden, full of flowers and fruits). The girls ran ahead eager to show us everything. They ran to show us the pond. And the fish in the pond. And the snail in the pond. They ran to pick us some strawberries still on the plants. They ran to show us the parakeet cage (walking inside, we found three box nests of young parakeets, nine in all). They ran ahead and came back with tomatoes off the vine for us to eat. They ran to retrieve an apple apiece for us. Such sweet little girls and fun to be with.

After supper, I asked if Jindra and his father might be willing to play for us. They regularly play together, Jindra the piano, and his father the saxophone. It was a great little private concert. Mr. Kubicek also told us about the WW2 bombs that fell in Budejovice when he was 16, and about the one that fell in their very yard (the garden we had earlier been enjoying), shaking the house and shattering all the windows. Of course I had heard the stories before, but it was great to listen to him telling them all over again in his animated way.

On Friday, it was back to Prague to be ready for our Saturday flight back to Moldova. It was a fun train ride to Prague, Nathan and I talking with 3 Czech girls in our compartment of the train, and some funny incidents along the way.

Friday evening dinner was with Honza and Pavla Novak, a great couple in the Prague church, with three great kids. Again really good food...I tend to highlight food a lot, don't I? We both ate to the point that I told Honza I felt like I was gonna make his kids go hungry, but they insisted and I happily obliged. I first met Honza on my brief initial visit to Prague in 1991, before he was married and before he was a Christian. There is now a growing maturity in the Czech churches that is good to see.

Another change among the Czechs is a growing prosperity. When I left seven years ago, these friends of mine (for the most part), rode bikes and trains and buses wherever they went. Most of their kitchens were plain little communist kitchens. Now they all have cars they use with regularity and have nicely remodeled kitchens with nice lighting fixtures and built-in dishwashers. And a few are getting out of the ubiquitous panelak apartment buildings 7-10 stories high, by building their own single-family homes. It's becoming a different world.

Saturday found us at the airport, leaving the Czech Republic until who knows when I might get to go again. I do miss that place. I told Honza Vlcek during our first daylight hours in the country, a week earlier, that I was surprised...I had forgotten how beautiful the Czech countryside is. And then there are Prague and Cesky Krumlov. But most of all, there are my friends. Some of my very best.

And now it's time for the month of work I came for. I'm back in Moldova and eager for the days ahead.

Catching Up: Sunday-Tuesday in Prague

2006-10-15T14:38:00.000-04:00

After the morning (and only) assembly(described earlier; great to be with them again), we had a potluck with the Prague Christians (good food!), and then I met with the song leaders. After that, Nathan finally got to see Prague. Of the European cities I've seen, I have to say that Prague is the most beautiful. Staromestcke Namesti (Old Town Square), Charles Bridge (built by King Charles in 1357), Prague Castle (seat of CZ government)...great great places. Pictured is a portion of Old Town Square.

Late Sunday evening we got back to Honza and Monica's flat for the night. While we were eating supper with them, the TV was on, and it happened to be tuned to a medical show, and an operation of some sort was being shown. Monica noticed and comments were made about the not-so-appetizing nature of the program, but then Honza mentioned that in fact the operation being shown was "a eunuch surgery." Nathan and I glanced at each other, and then busted out laughing. Honza's mistake, as I quickly realized, was simply incorrect accent placement. Instead of eunuch, he meant unique..."a unique surgery." The same mistake happened once when I lived in CZ, my translator relaying the arguments of the Jehovah's Witness I was studying with as "Jesus cannot be God, because Father is eunuch in His power." It took me a while to figure it out that first time: "They said what?"

Monday we had lunch with Mike and Tatana, and I finally got to enjoy Mike's renowned ribs. Very good, and perfectly complemented by Tatana's potatoes, and typical tomato-cucumber salad. Toured around Prague some more, and then supper with Robert and Tami, who invited Honza and Monica to come also. TWO main dishes: lasagna, and a chicken-spinach casserole. All very good. But best was sitting around the table laughing with these old friends Honza and Robert, and the wives they have each taken since then.

Tuesday Nathan and I ran around Prague a little more in the morning, and then met with Roman Vacha, another old friend of mine from the area in South Bohemia near Ceske Budejovice, where I used to live. Roman took us south for a few days, but that will be my next entry.

Long Time, No Blog

2006-10-15T09:15:00.000-04:00

It's been 6 days since my last entry. Been busy having fun in the Czech Republic. Couldn't find time to get online and post. We arrived back in Chisinau Moldova yesterday, met with the church in Balti this morning, got back about 20 minutes ago, and will leave in about 15 minutes for the assembly of the Chisinau church. I should have time this evening after 8 or 9 I suppose to bring you all up to date since my last entry.

Prague, Czech Republic

2006-10-09T15:56:00.000-04:00

Flying from Moldova to the Czech Republic our layover time in Vienna got shortened to only 20 minutes between landing and takeoff. Got off the plane as quickly as possible, only to realize that we were not at the gate; we had to load onto a bus which would take us to the terminal, and of course the bus would wait until everybody deboarded and got on the bus. So much for the rush off the plane. Good thing we hadn't been too pushy. :) Anyway, we made the flight, our luggage didn't, but it got put on another flight just 30 to 45 minutes later.

In Prague we're staying with my good friend Honza Vlcek and the girl he met and married since I last saw him. Very good to be in their home. On Saturday we and other Christians from throughout the Czech Republic and Slovakia met together in the city of Brno for a bimonthly study. I helped Charlie Brackett in teaching about personal study. Jindra and Misa from Budejovice were not able to be there...the whole family of five is sick in bed with something like the flu. Got back to Prague on Saturday evening. On Sunday I taught the morning class on the subject of singing: it's purpose and how to make it more edifying. I had been asked to meet with the song leaders while I am here, so the class made for a good lead-in to the song leader session, which we had later Sunday afternoon. Nathan preached during the assembly period on the subject of humility.

Sunday evening Nathan and I had time to run around historic Prague for a while. It's now Monday evening. Today we toured around some more, had lunch with Mike and Tatana Morrow, and are now enjoying an evening at Robert and Tami Hodanko flat, with honza and Monica also invited. Tomorrow we'll be heading to south Bohemia to spend a couple days with a very good friend of mine who lives SW of Ceske Budejovice. Happy trails to all.

Last Study Before Prague

2006-10-06T07:34:00.000-04:00

Second Serghei picked us up this morning at 7:40 to make the trip once again to Balti, to study with the women in the church there. There were fewer of them today than on Wednesday, but they appreciated the study. We just got back a few minutes ago (it's 2:30 pm) and it's almost time to head to the airport.

These two/three days here to learn our way around, meet the brethren, and learn where the various studies are have been useful...and full! It seems impossible that we have been here only two whole days (plus 2 parts of days). So many new experiences, new sights, how could it all have happened in so short a time? Of course we'll be heading back here for a month of work, and the other two Americans present will be leaving right after our return here. Spending time with them has been very useful for getting acquainted with things here, and I'm really looking forward to the work ahead.

For now though, it's off to the airport and a week in the Czech Republic. This week is personal time for me, though I'll be teaching on at least 4 occasions while there. It will be great to be in the country where I spent five years of my life, and to be with old friends and see the sights of Prague and South Bohemia.

I've been taking lots of pictures. I hope to get some of them in the Blog soon! Easy process, but I always have only a few minutes to update the blog and choosing pics gets eliminated! I should have more time this coming week.

Of Difficulties, Russian “Peacekeepers,” and Orphans

2006-10-05T10:42:00.000-04:00

Last night’s appointment was with a couple (perhaps in their 60’s) who have been Christians only a short time, though they had previous affiliation with a denominational group. We briefly discussed spiritual matters, but the discussion quickly turned to other things. They live in a flat that has a bathroom and one other room. A kitchen down the hall is shared by 6 such flats. She has her own health problems, but his are more urgent. Due to gangrene he lost his left leg from the knee down. Gangrene is in his right foot also now, and it appears he will lose that foot as well. Their pension is $70 per month. It should be more, but the state personnel who assigned them their status for help gave them class 2 instead of their deserved class 1, so that they would bribe him to put them in class 1. Such is the world where communism has had (and still has) its influence. Serghei has been given funds for such purposes, and supplements their income.

This morning it was off to the Transnistria region. The Dnister River flows parallel to the eastern border, leaving a narrow strip just several miles wide between it and the border (see Moldova map link below and right). The people there are oriented heavily toward Russia, and a brief civil war was fought in the 90’s for their independence (whereas the rest of Moldova leans away from Russia). Although Transnistria is not a distinct country, it is governed independently, and a border crossing must be passed to enter the region, complete with passport checking and Russian soldiers brought in “to keep the peace:” Peacekeepers. Serghei calls them “Transnistria keepers.”

Our purpose in going had to do with 2 churches in Transnistrian cities, Benderi and Tiraspol, churches founded by institutional brethren. An institutionally oriented preacher, American, owns their meeting place, and a new one is being built. He brings in large of sums of money from the US for helping the brethren there. Banquets are funded by American churches for these brethren, who live in a region that looks like the old Soviet Union. The new building is reportedly quite an extravagant structure. It’s heady stuff for them. Several of them have problems with the preacher supported by institutional brethren, but in a sense they are bought and paid for by all the money from America. We went today, with news that both the local preacher and the American preacher would be at the study that Serghei usually conducts with several of the Christian from those two churches. They were there, and we were able to compel the local institutional preacher to renounce some things that he has reportedly taught, things that appear to have been used (if used at all) to keep the brethren submissively under his control. Whether he actually taught these views we are uncertain (it may have been a misunderstanding), but if he did teach them, at least it will be very difficult for him to now re-introduce those ideas once he has now clearly renounced them.

Leaving the area, Brace wanted a picture of a certain castle, which, unfortunately for photographic purposes, is now part of a military base there. Pictures are “frowned upon.” Seghei said that if caught, arrests were not unlikely, and beatings would follow. ….so we had to take them discreetly. J Of course it was not until after we passed it, taking pictures from the car with cameras just above window level, that Serghei mentioned beatings. I had taken four as we passed, hoping one would be good. So with the news of beatings, Brace and I started erasing all but the best one, which could be quickly deleted if anyone started asking questions! Of course, we crossed the border without difficulty.

Coming back into town we stopped at an orphanage that Serghei and others have visited in times past. Brace in particular has visited there, and later sent them funds collected from individual Christians in America. As a result, their already scheduled “Teachers’ Day” activities were delayed until our arrival, so that they could include us. The kids performed for the teachers and us: readings, music, a skit, etc. I’ll write more about this later, but have no more time right now. I also wanted to write about the concentration camp survivor we met, but that will have to wait as well.

This evening we are invited to Serghei and Anna’s flat for a social gathering of the Christians here, and it’s time to go.

On The Ground

2006-10-04T09:10:00.000-04:00

I’ve finally found a chance to get online! Our flights went well, though in Budapest Hungary the girl at checkin looked at our tickets, did some checking,and told us “It is cancelled” “Our tickets are cancelled??” “No, the flight is cancelled.” But she said she could give us standby tickets for the same flight. (???) I asked about our luggage - “Yes, it is all on the plane” Anyway, we eventually got on the plane and all was well. We arrived here at 3:30 pm local time, having gotten no sleep that night on the plane, and with little sleep the nights previous. My possible sleeping time on the plane was spent talking with a young Romanian who currently lives in Atlanta. He taught me some Romanian, and we talked about faith and many other things as well. We’ll be in touch when we both get back to Georgia

Serghei met us at the airport, and it was great to see him again after 8 years. He showed us the shopping possibilities in our neighborhood, we bought some groceries, and by then it was time for a Bible study at the meeting place of the church here. Exhausted, I was glad that two other men visiting and teaching here were already responsible to lead the discussion that evening, though Serghei had fun scaring me that he wanted me to teach that night. Brace Rutledge and Larry Paden are here but will soon be heading back to the States. Brace presented a lesson, which was followed by much discussion and many questions. Soon the questions were on completely unrelated topics, and there was a lengthy discussion of wine and alcohol with two different views being presented. I hope to further this discussion in coming weeks.

Nathan and I both noticed something we thought was quite significant; that although opposing views were being advocated, and strongly so, that these brethren were just as warm and friendly with each other following the study as they had been upon their arrival for the study. It was wonderful. A number of brethren could stand to learn some things from their example.

We finally got home, got to sleep, and got some good rest.

We were up again at 6:30 a.m. to be ready for a trip to go to a city in northwestern Moldova today. Larry, Brace, Nathan and I were driven there by a second Serghei in his van (his job is hauling loads of whatever somebody wants hauled, thus he owns the van). Although Second Serghei was at the study the previous night, I had not had a chance to get to know him, so the drive back and forth today was a good opportunity. Without exception, it is always a joy to get to know the Christians of Eastern Europe.

The city where this morning’s study was is Balti, in northwestern Moldova (see map link at right). There is a church there consisting entirely of women, though one man was present for the study, along with about 7 women. Brace again led the discussion, and they also had questions. We have another study in an hour and a half, at 6pm, with one of the older ladies in the church here.

Interesting sights on the highway to Balti. I’ll share one with you. Very frequently along the road, we would see a cow or bull resting or standing eating right at the road’s edge. People who own cattle, maybe one or two or three, but who don’t own land (or possibly for other reasons also), tie them up on the public easement along the highway so they can graze some there.

Moldova is so much poorer than much of eastern Europe, and certainly moreso than the Czech Republic where I previously lived. I am told that one reason for this is that foreign companies are unwilling to come in, due to the lack of contract law here. Those in power would apparently rather continue the system of bribery that prevailed for so long in so many of these countries.

I hope to do some teaching before leaving for the Czech Republic on Friday, but if not, these two or three days were really just for getting a feel for things, learning my way around, and settling in. We’ll be back here after a week in CZ, and I’ll have more teaching opportunities then than I can handle.

It’s GREAT to be here. It’s a joy, and it’s a good work. See you back here again soon.

About to Fly Out

2006-10-01T23:25:00.000-04:00

This is just a brief entry to welcome you all to my blog. My nephew Nathan and I should be leaving the house around 8:30 in the morning (monday morning), take care of a couple of errands, and eventually get to the Atlanta airport and take off at 2 pm. In true Smelser fashion, I'm way behind and rushing to get things done. Sorry fellow Smelsers, but you know it's true. Our arrival in Chisinau Moldova will be 3:30 pm Tuesday (8:30 am Tuesday here in Georgia), after stops in New York's JFK and in Budapest (where Nathan and I have a 4 hour layover...just long enough to get to the town center for a bit and then back to the airport). Should have some interesting tales to tell by the time we get on the ground in Moldova...if I have immediate internet access. Hope you'll check back.

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Serbia + Mountain Pass + Accident + Mafia Cops =This

1997-12-01T12:00:00.009-05:00

The following events constitute one of the most bizarre events of my life. They occurred while a Czech friend of mine and I were passing through Serbia (in the former Yugoslavia), en route from the Czech Republic to Greece. American forces were fighting in other regions of Yugoslavia at the time, and potentially antagonistic feelings of the locals had been a concern of mine.

It's in the form of the email I sent to my parents after I got back to my home, to tell them what all had happened, though I have since done some editing and filled in some details. The accident happened on Saturday night, August 30, 1997.

===================================================================

The most exciting part of our trip happened before we ever got to Greece. Honza and I had decided to go through Yugoslavia (including the Serbian region) since there's no war in the part of Serbia we would see, which is not near the Croat or Bosnian borders, and because we just didn't see any good alternate routes.

With any luck at all, I wouldn't need to identify myself in Yugoslavia as an American, except at the borders, and we filled up the tank just before entering so we could make it through to the Bulgarian border without even stopping for gas. We certainly wouldn't spend the night in-country. These concerns for myself, as an American in Serbia while American forces were fighting in parts of the country, turned out to be irrelevant to the actual events.

Our plan was to reach Sofia Bulgaria Saturday night, and worship with the church there on Sunday. We left Prague on Friday afternoon and spent that night with David and Teresa Bunting in Budapest. Spending too much time with Petr in the city center Saturday morning, we got away from Budapest after 1 pm, later than planned, and then crossing the border into Yugoslavia consumed more than an hour and a half of the late afternoon. So it was late Saturday evening when we reached the southeastern Yugoslav city of Nis. Actually just reaching the edge of Nis, we turned off the interstate-like highway onto a smaller road which would lead us southeast to the border, and then to Sofia, Bulgaria, our destination for the night. Honza was at the wheel.

About 15 miles after joining this highway, it had become narrow indeed, twisting through a 5-mile-long mountain pass which would lead from one plain to another, occasionally going through short tunnels where there wasn't room to put a strip of pavement on the side of the mountain. A very light rain had just begun, and it was something like 10:00 at night. I was testing Honza on the order of the OT books. Just getting past a delay (it took him a minute to remember Amos), we came around a right curve, valley on the right, mountain on the left, but there was just enough dirt beyond the guardrail on the right to support some tall bushy plants, just before the ground dropped off into dark oblivion, at the bottom of which runs the Nisava River. Those plants along the guard rail blocked our view of the road ahead until we were completely around the curve. Once around it, we both saw a truck stopped in our lane. I called out "Pozor!", the commonly used Czech equivalent of 'beware' or 'look out'. Honza hit the brakes hard, too hard, and locked the wheels. I could see him turning the steering wheel to the left, but with the car simply sliding on the wet pavement, we continued unwaveringly straight toward the truck. I wanted him to release the brakes so he could steer. I was yelling now, "Off the brakes! Off the brakes! Off the brakes!" Unfortunately, Honza's English isn't so advanced as to catch the meaning of my frantic idiom. He told me later that with each repetition of this phrase, the only part he had really understood was "brakes!" which of course conveyed the exact opposite of my wish.

Finally he must have let up though (or else the warm exhaust of the parked truck had dried the pavement immediately behind it), because suddenly the car lurched left just before reaching the truck, and for a brief one hundredth of a second, both of us thought we just might make it through. But having already turned the wheel all the way left, Honza had no chance to correct the steering, and we crashed into what was on the left side of the road. What was on the left side of the road, in a small pull-off space carved out of the side of the mountain, was a parked car and its owner standing outside of it, right where our car was aimed. The man didn't have time to jump out of the way, and we sandwiched him between our front end and his left front fender. As the moment of impact passed, and the cars separated once again, he was thrown over the hood of his car, but only after smashing our windshield with his extended hand. He was on his feet and hobbling around his car before we could even get out of ours. I'm glad he was a really big man, because I'm sure that's the only reason neither of his legs were broken. In fact, he thought at first that they were; when I asked, with gestures, if that were the case, he nodded yes, with an exasperated look on his face. Honza got out to see if he and his family needed help, while I scrambled to find paper and pen to write down the license number of the truck, whose driver seemed to be preparing to get in and move, away from the scene I thought. As it turned out, he only moved it to another small pull off area some 100 yards down the road. By the time I recorded the tag number and got out of our car, the man's wife in the back seat of the parked car was in shock, crying and wailing. When the force of our car moved theirs several feet sideways, her head had gone through the left rear door window, causing cuts and bruises, and on top off this she had no doubt seen our car hit her husband just before the impact into their car.

A passing car stopped for a moment, then pulled away after apparently agreeing to call police. When the police arrived some length of time later, one of them interviewed all three drivers. I watched as he interviewed the man we hit, and he seemed to be describing the stopped truck at one point. And of course Honza described the stopped truck, although communication was very difficult since none of the locals spoke English or Czech. Serbo-Croatian and Czech are related though, so with accompanied gesturing, we could get the basic idea across. The officer we dealt with actually seemed like a really decent guy. Later, a camera crew came out to document the damage and position of the cars. At first I had been thinking that ours might be drivable, with a little bending of the fender away from the tire, but then noticed that while the left front wheel was pointing straight ahead, the right one was turned sharply to the right. Finally, about two hours after the accident, they were ready to start removing the cars. The truck that had been in the way when we rounded the curve was an "auto shlep", an auto-service truck, the kind that uses a motorized cable to pull disabled cars up onto a tiltable flatbed. So the police directed as they loaded up our car first, onto that very truck, and the police took us into town for more paperwork, with the auto shlep following behind, carrying our car. Bela Palanka is a small town on the plain, with only one main through street that we ever saw, and was maybe eight more miles toward Bulgaria from the accident. The man we hit, his car, and another set of police remained at the scene of the accident.

Maybe around 1 a.m. the police were through with us, except for holding Honza's passport so that we would show up at court Monday morning where fault (and consequences) would be determined. They promised to provide an English speaking translator for the hearing, since they realized that we know English. Outside the police station were waiting the men with our car. They and the police told us that they could take us to a place where they would work on our car that night, maybe even have it drivable in a couple of hours. The police said that if the car was successfully repaired, we should let them know ASAP, since there was a chance, though only a chance, that they could get the judge to stop in the office Sunday morning, and maybe that way we could be on our way. Not knowing where else to take the car that time of night, and with the possibility of being on the road again soon, we agreed and went with them.

So they took us several miles away, to a lonely repair shop on the side of a little highway, far away from town (the next morning I realized it was the same highway we'd traveled on, and that we were right at the exit from the pass, and within a mile or two of the accident location). Upon arrival, they woke up a fellow worker who was sleeping in an old abandoned Mercedes surrounded by overgrown weeds, got a fourth worker from who-knows-where, and started working on the car (I later realized that the garage was only half the building; the other half was a residence, from which this fourth man must have come). Tired and stressed out, I hadn't realized it would be their own shop they were taking us to. I didn't like this too much, as they were the ones whose stopped truck had caused the accident in the first place. We were at least able to see what they were doing though, and saw the damaged parts they worked on. But I was so tired. I don't remember for sure, but I think they stopped for a while, while a couple of them went into town where they could get a certain part (Honza verifies my shady memory). After watching them work until sometime between two and three, I could not stand, or sit, or do anything effectively anymore except fall asleep, so I accepted the offer to sleep in the abandoned Mercedes. After a while they could do no more work until they could get another part, which they could not get until daylight hours, so Honza joined me in the car to sleep.

Around 7 in the morning one of the guys tapped on our windows, told us something about the car which we didn't understand, and that Princess Diana was dead from a car accident. It turns out her accident happened just a couple of hours after ours. When we got up later (this is Sunday morning), it was a cold, drizzly day, and they showed us the part they needed: the steering mechanism that reaches from one wheel to the other. Adding up the cost of parts already involved, now I would be more than out of all the emergency fund Dollars and Deutschemarks I had brought with me in case of "something unexpected," and I remembered the State Department's statement that you can't use credit cards in Yugoslav banks to get money. Honza still had some.

At any rate, they went to get the part, and were gone for at least a couple of hours while Honza and I tried unsuccessfully to stay warm and dry. When they finally returned and got everything assembled, they started the car, and began backing out for a test drive. After just a few feet, there was a horrible grinding noise, followed by more as he pulled it back in out of the rain. Something about or connected to the driveshaft, as best I could understand their Serbo-croation and gestures, though of course a drive shaft in a front wheel drive isn't what I picture in my mind. This part of the repair would have to wait until Monday.

Now I'll need to begin using the names Honza and I made up for various people while we were there. We knew no one's actual names until the day we left, and we have a hard enough time communicating with each other already. So without trying, we began making up names for the various parties for ease of communication. The man we hit became Legman, after frequent referrals to him as "the man with the legs" which actually meant "the man with the hurt legs" (he had trouble walking on those sore legs the whole time we were there).

Sometime during this part of the day (midday Sunday), a car pulled up in front of the repair shop. It was Legman, his two sons, and a friend who drove them. His sons knew a few English words. This was supposed to help. In a combination of languages, they told us that we must pay their father 750 Deutschemarks (German marks; about $425) for the damage to his car. If we refused, he would not testify in court that the truck was stopped there on the highway. It was either pay him now, or surely be found guilty and pay later, plus face high fines from the court. We said we had a lot to think about, and needed to talk to the police first. We had a "zelena karta" (green card) from Prague, which is liability insurance. It should be a simple matter of the local police recording the information from the card, and overseeing the process.

After Legman and his sons talked with us, the worker who had been driving the auto shlep went out and talked with him, to some degree arguing, but we weren't sure about what. Honza thought he understood a little from the truck driver about a flashlight Legman was holding (or waving?) before we hit him, which the auto shlep driver seemed to be arguing warned us about...about what? The stopped truck's presence?

Then with nothing more that could be done to the car on that Sunday afternoon, the car repair guys offered to take us to a hotel, to which we agreed. The same auto shlep driver took us in a second auto shlep back west through the mountain pass (their shop was just outside the east end of the pass), to a three story hotel in Sicevo, in the direction of Nis. Autoshlepguy (our name for him) went in with us, and greeted a very well dressed man who seemed to be in charge at the hotel. They obviously knew each other. I wasn't happy about this. Were there no sources of help in this country which would have no association with the guy whose stopped auto shlep had caused the accident??

After getting our room in this large yet seemingly empty hotel, we went back outside and caught a bus east, back through the pass once again, to Bela Palanka to talk with the police, hoping to find the same, seemingly decent, officer we had dealt with on the highway. He wasn't there, and we had absolutely no success trying to communicate with the ones who were there. We got back to the hotel at around 5:30 pm, got showers, had a time of worship and study, then went down to eat supper in the large dining room. We were the only ones in the dining room, except for three or four very well-dressed middle aged men seated at a single table, who either were employees or friends, but in either case, seemed to have absolutely nothing to do. When we came in and sat down, they dispersed. One took a seat alone at a corner table reading a newspaper, another sat in a different section watching television news, another disappeared... It was just weird. We checked out Monday morning to go to Bela Palanka and court, but never saw another guest or any evidence of such all night or morning. It seemed pretty strange to me.

I had asked at check-in if they would accept Visa. They had said yes. Now on Monday morning, Autoshlepguy was to come pick us up at 8:30 to take us to court. We went down a little earlier, but the man wouldn't check us out until Autoshlepguy got there for us and came inside. This also seemed strange, and made me wonder more just what was going on. I suppose now that he had agreed to make sure we didn't skip town. When Autoshlepguy did arrive, the man at the desk had to get yet a different man who knew how to do the credit card procedure. He got out the little contraption you used to see in stores, in which they place a credit card, a credit slip, and then slide part of it over and back to impress the numbers from the card onto the slip - except he put the card on top of the paper instead of under it. I tried to show him his mistake but he wasn't interested in my advice. After attempting the procedure though, he realized it didn't come out right, and he fiddled around with the materials some (contraption, card, credit slip). I tried again to show him the problem, but he wouldn't listen. He then put it all back the same way again. I had become skeptical of the whole operation, and their connection with the car service guys, and the non-functioning nature of the hotel, so when Honza started to correct him a third time, I pulled at his sleeve to signal him not to. If the man insisted on doing it that way, fine. I wasn't sure yet if they were on the level, if they were in some mafia arrangement with the car shop guys, if we were going to get ripped off by them all, so I figured I'm not going to pay them now if I can get away with it. When it's all over, if it seems they were fair, I can send them the money from home in Budejovice. As it turned out, the number did just barely show up on the slip the last time, and he was satisfied. I remained hopeful that it was not legible enough for the folks at Visa to decipher.

So, with Autoshlepguy, we headed east through the pass again, past the accident scene, past the repair shop, to Bela Palanka and the 9:00 court session. Legman wasn't there yet, so the hearing was delayed. When he arrived, it appeared from everyone that there was no rush to get to the courtroom, so apparently the court session had been postponed for quite a while, though we always had trouble understanding just what was going on. That language problem was driving me crazy.

Outside the building, I tried to talk with Legman about our insurance. He pointed to a little bar across the street that had three or four tables out on the sidewalk, so we went to sit down, but neither Honza nor I could communicate well with him. Czech and Serbo-Croatian are related, but not so closely. It had been much easier to communicate with the policeman, describing with accompanying gestures the physical events of a car accident, than to discuss the finer points of international insurance claims. He asked the waiter if he spoke any English, which he did, but not much.

The waiter wasn't so much help in translating between us and Legman, but he was helpful nevertheless. He was a pro-democracy college student, studying law to become a lawyer in a better Yugoslavia than now exists. Between Honza and me, his name was Advokatman (advokat is the Czech word for lawyer). He told us that the car service guys who were sitting in the highway that night, and who now had our car, were "bad people," and that they cooperate with the police, so that they have business, and so that the police have something to do so that they can keep their jobs. He used the word "mafia" to describe the relationship. Then I realized how the policeman from Saturday night, who had seemed like such a decent guy, was also very cooperative with Autoshlepguy in getting our car into the latter's repair shop. Advokatman also said the court was communist, and that we had little hope for justice, and that we were in danger of being thrown in jail if found guilty and unable to pay. All of this was part English, part Czech, part gesture, part Serbo-croatian. Despite the bad news, it was really good to talk with someone who seemed to be a friend. Advokatman also told us about a woman from Brno, Czech Republic, who was in town, and that maybe she could help us communicate with Legman, since she speaks both Czech and Serbo-croatian.

While waiting for her to happen by, Honza and I were trying to see if we could get money in town (Deutschemarks is what everyone wanted from us, instead of the Yugoslav dinar), and making calls from the Post Office (European Post Offices provide phone service for a fee) to the American Embassy in Belgrade, and to the car rental agency in Prague. What with communist judges and mafia alliances, I had decided by this point that I wanted the embassy to know we were there, and we also needed more detailed info about the insurance. It was impossible to get Deutschemarks with my cards, and the young man at the first bank we went to said I couldn't use my cards at all: "No, No! It's your fault, your fault! Sanctions!" And as for the Embassy, I had trouble contacting the right people since it was Labor Day, and they were in the process of moving the office I needed. This was such a frustrating morning.

In the meantime, Advokatman had spotted the woman from Brno, and he and Legman had explained the situation to her. She spoke fluent Serbo-croatian, and was very helpful and hospitable to us that day and the next, even allowing us to stay overnight in the flat she and a friend of hers share (actually, we later learned, she is Yugoslav, originally from that town, not Czech; she lives in Brno after having married a Czech, and runs an import-export business between the two places, and apparently, she runs it successfully; she was always better dressed than the rest of the population). She helped us communicate with Legman, whom I had begun to regard as less of an enemy, but merely as a dishonest guy who rightfully wanted to be reimbursed for something that was not his fault, and was in fact partly our fault. We explained about the green card liability insurance, but they all, including the woman, said it just doesn't work in Yugoslavia. So, after some calls to Prague that seemed to indicate the likelihood of being reimbursed later by the liability insurance if we paid on the spot, we agreed to pay the man his car damages in exchange for his testimony (if the accident were ruled fully our fault, we had to pay a large deductible on our car).

In between all of this discussion, Honza and I were frequently having to go back to the Post office, where we could make calls. We were trying to get information from the car rental agency (our car was a rental), trying to contact Jindra in Budejovice for his assistance to research some things about insurance, as well as trying to contact the right people at the embassy. Some of these things were only partly accomplished. But I was finally able to speak with the Consul at the embassy, to simply make him aware of our presence there and about our problems.

Helpwoman (as Honza and I began referring to her) took us to the police station, where she talked with a friend of hers. Based on what she found out there, apparently not all the police operate in cooperation with the car service guys. Her officer friend told her that someone in the area has been placing some kind of materials in the road to cause flat tires, hoping to gain car service business from passing motorists; they have suspected the people who have our car, but they weren't sure. He also told her that Legman's testimony on the highway Saturday night included the fact that the reason he was stopped was because of a flat tire, the second one in only a few kilometers; further, that Autoshlepguy had stopped both times to offer his services, while Legman refused the offer both times. It was while he was refusing the offer the second time that we came around the curve.

Just great. If in court we somehow prove Autoshlepguy's activity, and thus escape fault which might then be solely his, we're okay with the government, but this crooked guy has our car and will not be too pleased with us. If we lose in court, the repair shop will finish what so far seems to be a reasonable and fairly reasonably priced repair on our car, but we may be thrown in jail because we have no money to pay for damages, car repairs, and high court fees. A real catch-22. This frustrating morning was becoming pretty worrisome now. This, Dad, is when I called the embassy again, and asked the Consul to call you and ask that you wire money to the embassy for me. Although I hadn't yet figured out a means of getting the money from Belgrade to where we were (I was thinking of catching a bus; I found out the next day it couldn't be wired), it seemed to be the only possibility of having sufficient money.

Helpwoman said we could stay that night at the flat where she was staying with her friend, but that now she needed to go to Nis, the larger city to the west on the other side of the mountain pass, to meet some friends of hers. Nis has a population of probably 100,000 to 200,000. She and the woman with whom she stays had arranged a ride for themselves with Legman and his friend who had brought him to Bela Palanka (Legman, it turned out, lives in Nis). We asked if we could go also, so as to investigate the possibility of using credit cards in the banks there. So we all went to Nis (four of us in the backseat of his mid-sized Opel), first to Legman's flat, whose wife served us tea. Her eyebrow was swollen and ugly from the accident, but she was okay. This was the beginning of a really strange Monday afternoon. Legman's friend then dropped us off downtown, and we found one bank where I could get Yugoslav money on my card, but not Deutschemarks. Helpwoman said she thought we could get Deutschemarks elsewhere, so we didn't get any money yet.

The next stop was the police station, where Helpwoman and her friend looked for the Chief of Police, whom Helpwoman knows. She said that sometimes she can ask him to influence the police in Bela Palanka, and that Bela Palanka usually does as he says. He wasn't there.

After a stop at the Post Office for another call to the embassy, Helpwoman took us to a little restaurant, where she waited for a couple of her friends. A little while after these two friends arrived, one of them took us in his German car to another restaurant, this one small, loud, and smoke-filled, where a larger meeting of friends took place at one of their sidewalk tables out back. One of them was already seriously drunk when we arrived. Another gradually got tipsy. It was apparent that they all had money. We all sat outside for 30 to 45 minutes while a couple of guys with a guitar and an I-don't-know-what played and sang apparently traditional Yugoslav folk songs at our table. The drunk kept handing out 20 dinar bills to the musicians, until it amounted to about US$20. At one point, while they were all drinking and singing, Helpwoman leaned over to us and said with a smirk (in Czech, of course), "These are business men, and this is how they work."

Honza and I were wanting to find out about banks and money, but Helpwoman said she thought one of these men would be able to help us get the Deutschemarks we needed. It was obviously impolite to rush things. It was such a strange situation to be in. Sitting there at a sunny sidewalk table in a Yugoslav city, with people who didn't seem to have a care in the world, listening to them sing their songs and rejoice with each other in their worldly way, and us with our freedom in the balance at the time, and needing to do something about it, but sitting there was somehow necessary for us to endure in order to accomplish what we needed. It really was comically strange.

After sitting so long with these people, we wanted to get up and take a walk, but Helpwoman said we were just about ready to move to a table inside for the meal. This was news to us, and we got treated to large amounts of lamb ribs, bread, and cucumber salad (all very good!), though in not such an enjoyable atmosphere. The drunk finally left, then Helpwoman had to go somewhere with the man she thought could help us get Deutschmarks, and was gone for at least 30 to 40 minutes. Honza and I got up after a while and tried to check prices for Skoda parts at a couple of neighboring car parts places (to compare with the prices the repair shop gave us), but neither place dealt with Skoda parts.

Finally Helpwoman returned, with a different friend, and the 5 of us started back to Bela Palanka in this friend's Yugo (Honza and I, Helpwoman and her friend with whom she stays, and the Yugo owner). Apparently the plan for the one guy to get us Deutschemarks had fallen through.

Court had been postponed until the following morning. That night in Bela Palanka, Helpwoman took us and her friend out walking, looking for a friend who would be able to give advice for court. We found another friend first, a police officer, and Helpwoman talked with him about the situation. He said that he was writing a letter to Belgrade about the situation with someone causing flat tires on the highway, and the suspicions about Autoshlepguy, and that he would be in court with us to tell about this. We also found the man she had been seeking, but I don't know what she found out from her conversation with him. Still, several things now were looking like we just might be able to escape any guilt, placing all of it on Autoshlepguy, which would mean not only escaping court fees and who knows what other consequences, but also that the rental agency would return 10,000 Kc ($330) to us which we had paid as a deposit. But of course we still couldn't decide if this was good or not -- our car was still at the shop where Autoshlepguy works.

The next morning, Tuesday, we were still trying to make calls to Prague, and to Jindra in Ceske Budejovice who was searching information for us, but with everything going on it was impossible to get all the information we wanted about the insurance arrangements. Finally the woman judge was ready for us. Legman went into the 2nd floor room, and we went in, and Helpwoman went in. It was small, maybe 15'x15', with cabinets on one wall, and I think three large desks pushed together in the middle. Twice during the hearing, one of the two women at the other two desks wadded up paper she had been typing on, and threw it, from her seat, out the open second floor window. Make of that what you will.

Legman told about his flat tires, Autoshlepguy's offers, and about the accident, as did Helpwoman on our behalf. So we were three witnesses to the truck's presence stopped on the highway. But the judge irately insisted that there was no evidence as to the truck's presence, that nothing in the police documents mentioned a truck stopped on the highway, and probably (I don't know) that Autoshlepguy said he wasn't there so he wasn't there. Guilt was wholly Honza's and that was that. We would pay the court fines and we could go, and it was over. I didn't know how they do things until it was all over. It certainly hadn't seemed like a court room, and I didn't realize there would be a final decision right then, until the decision was handed down. What about the policeman who had been at the accident scene? What about the policeman who said he would come tell about their suspicions about Autoshlepguy? Where were they? Where was Autoshlepguy for that matter? But it was done.

Later Helpwoman told us that when the others found out it would be this particular judge, that they didn't bother showing up. I don't know if she realized that earlier, and if so why she didn't tell us, and why we had to show up. At any rate, the judge gave us the lowest possible court fines (and the high ones were high indeed), apparently because Legman didn't pursue any claim against us.

So we went back to Helpwoman's flat, and Legman and friends came also. After I confirmed with the embassy that the money you sent there could be returned to the States, Legman and friends prepared to take us to Nis to the bank we had found there where we could get Yugoslav dinars with my Visa card. In the parking lot before we left for Nis, one of Legman's friends pulled out his gun to show me. I suspected at the time that this was to prevent any thoughts of escaping before paying up, since we were now free of the government. Just as a matter of pride, I was glad I wasn't intimidated by it, but rather was simply interested in looking at the gun. I gestured, asking if I could look at it; he removed the clip, which held about 10 rounds, and handed it to me. It was a 9mm, no insignificant handgun. I admired it and handed it back. I hoped he was disappointed in my reaction, even though such would be a very small victory. And really, I now suppose it may have been that he just wanted to show me his gun.

Anyway, we went to Nis and the bank we had found there, seven of us in the car of one of Legman's friends, got 5000 dinars, came back toward Bela Palanka to the repair shop, where they had finished our car, and I test drove it. One fender needed a little more pulling away from the tire, which they immediately took care of. Then I divided the dinars between the repair shop and Legman. Afterward, Legman agreed to do a little more work "gratis" on the front corner of our car so the headlight would aim the right direction (it turned out he runs a little body shop behind his flat), so we followed him back west into Nis, where he spent about an hour (?) disassembling the front end and banging things into shape, and finally then reassembling it all. As darkness fell, we headed back east, through the pass for the last time, to Helpwoman's flat in Bela Palanka for our things. We left on that Tuesday night, about 9 pm, on our way east out of Bela Palanka, into new territory at last, and out of the country, considerably poorer than when we entered. We were not sorry to leave. And Greece awaited.

Clearing Bela Palanka, I asked Honza what comes after Amos.

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The other part of the story was the phone call from the US Consul in Belgrade Yugoslavia, to my Dad, when I thought I was going to have to have his help in wiring me some money. Of course I'm not even sure my Dad knew I was on a trip at all, until he got this phone call:

Dad answers the phone, "Hello?"
Consul: "Is this Dale Smelser?"
Dad: "Yes."
Consul: "My name is (whatever it was), and I am the American Consul in Belgrade, Yugoslavia. First I want you to know that your son Darryl is alright."
Dad: "Okay," but thinking, "If the Consul in Yugoslavia is calling me to tell me Darryl is alright, he may be alive, but he's not alright!"