Miles to Go Before I Sleep - Part 1

Many people have wished me well on this trip and commented on what a wonderful time I must be having and indeed I am.  Just last night I got to watch the sun set over the rooftops of Dusseldorf, Germany and it was a beautiful sight.  The talks so far have gone very well and Friends here have been very welcoming and kind.  However, on a trip like this, there are also times of stress and of striving to meet difficult challenges when you want to stop and take a break.  There are times when you are tired, at your end, and wounded.  This too, is a part of traveling in the ministry and also, an important one to talk about.  Adjusting to a different way of life can sometimes take more than you think you have.  Coming from an area where people usually drive to get where they want to go, the physical demands of being in Europe has probably been the most difficult for me thus far, not to mention getting where I need to go while not understanding the language.  Thus, I wrote this post to honor the difficult parts we all have when traveling in the ministry.   It is probably the part I will learn from the most.
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So, you all want to know what Europe is like. I’ll tell you. Boot camp. It’s just like boot camp, except with better food. Even after just nine days, I have been put through the paces and I now know why seeing an overweight person is an extremely rare sight in Europe.

I am beginning to suspect the friends I am staying with got together and planned this out before I arrived because boot camp has come in succeeding stages, each calling for more endurance and energy than the last.

When I was staying with Simon, they went relatively easy on me. After all, I was a very green recruit and they opted to break me in gently. Simon had a car so he picked us up and dropped us off at the train stations. However, I still had to manage the tube as my first challenge. You may be thinking, “But Sarah, even I know the tube is the name for the underground trains in London. How strenuous is it to sit on a train?” If you are asking that question, you have obviously never been to London. Yes, it is pretty easy to sit on the tube but you have to first get to the tube and getting to the right tube station and then the right platform involves a maze of tunnels, stairs, enormous escalators, and lifts. Then once you are in London, you are on your feet the whole time and the city is extensive. I can’t even imagine how many miles I walked in London alone.

When I went to stay with Hetty, things got a little harder. Hetty lives about a fifteen minute walk from the nearest tube station. The neighborhood in Tufnell Park is quite beautiful but Hetty had to draw me a map so I could figure out all the turns to get to her flat. So now I had the walk to and from the tube plus the tube plus walking around London. Doing that is when I strained a muscle. (At least, that is what I am guessing I did.) Wounded, but I survived Stage 2.

At this point, they up the ante a couple of levels for Stage 3. I wish they didn’t have such faith in me and my level of endurance. Let me tell it to you from the perspective of working through it:

First, with the heavy weight of my bag (and I thought I packed pretty light!) on my back, I walk to the tube, catch the Northern Line to St. Pancreas Train Station, find my way through there, get through the border checks and onto the Eurostar which takes me to Brussels. Now, for the second time in my life, first time on my own, I am in a country that doesn’t speak my language and all the signs are either in French, Flemish, or Dutch, none of which I understand. I manage with some Euros my mother gave me to get change for the loo, use the loo, then find the section of the station for the Metro. Finding people who speak a bit of English, I manage to get on the right one, then make the correct transfer. From there I have to find my way to Friend’s House though fortunately, I had looked at a map of the location in the US so I find my way. Still, carrying all my stuff makes this quite a bit more of a challenge and by the time I arrive at Friends House, I drop my stuff on the floor and sink down into a chair while John hurries to the sink for a glass of water to revive me which I gratefully accept.

After walking around Brussels, I reload my bags onto my back and set off for the grueling trip to the Netherlands. First, I take the wrong street and so have to ask for help to find my way to the station. Then, instead of simply reversing what I did that morning, I have to find a different station. Ideally, this will be easier but I don’t know the language and I have no sense of direction in this city. Two people tell me this is the right Metro, one person says it is not. I go with the majority. The majority is wrong. So now I am on the wrong train with no map of the metro trying to find my way back with all the signs in Flemish. By now, if not quite a bit earlier, people can hear the desperation in my voice. With their help, I find my way to the right station, and after a time, the right train to Delft. Now you think my stress would be over, but no, there are two stations in Delft. Which one am I supposed to be at? I decide on the main one but my friend is not there to meet me. Did I choose the right one? Should I find a train to the other? By this time I am an inch from sitting down and crying. This is quite stressful! I neglected to write down his address and phone number, it’s in my e-mail which I do not have access to nor do I have a phone. I sit down on a bench, put my stuff beside me, and take a shaky breath. Deciding to try for internet anyway, I find you can pay for internet. Though expensive, I decide it is worth it and I get the phone number then call my friend on a kind man’s phone. When my friend comes to get me, he asks how I am doing and that is when the tears finally win the battle. Wisely, he takes my bag from me and we walk home and he and his wife feed me. It seems I hit the wall after 5-7 days in boot camp of the foreign country variety, typically after a stressful day trying to get somewhere on my own. I know from past experience, it gets better from here. And, after all, I did manage to get myself from Hetty’s to Vivian’s passing through three countries so I am rather proud of myself. However, little did I know this was just the test that would launch me into Stage 4 of European Boot Camp.

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Walking the Sea: Miles to Go Before I Sleep - Part 1

Monday, April 18, 2011

Miles to Go Before I Sleep - Part 1

Many people have wished me well on this trip and commented on what a wonderful time I must be having and indeed I am.  Just last night I got to watch the sun set over the rooftops of Dusseldorf, Germany and it was a beautiful sight.  The talks so far have gone very well and Friends here have been very welcoming and kind.  However, on a trip like this, there are also times of stress and of striving to meet difficult challenges when you want to stop and take a break.  There are times when you are tired, at your end, and wounded.  This too, is a part of traveling in the ministry and also, an important one to talk about.  Adjusting to a different way of life can sometimes take more than you think you have.  Coming from an area where people usually drive to get where they want to go, the physical demands of being in Europe has probably been the most difficult for me thus far, not to mention getting where I need to go while not understanding the language.  Thus, I wrote this post to honor the difficult parts we all have when traveling in the ministry.   It is probably the part I will learn from the most.
__________________________________________

So, you all want to know what Europe is like. I’ll tell you. Boot camp. It’s just like boot camp, except with better food. Even after just nine days, I have been put through the paces and I now know why seeing an overweight person is an extremely rare sight in Europe.

I am beginning to suspect the friends I am staying with got together and planned this out before I arrived because boot camp has come in succeeding stages, each calling for more endurance and energy than the last.

When I was staying with Simon, they went relatively easy on me. After all, I was a very green recruit and they opted to break me in gently. Simon had a car so he picked us up and dropped us off at the train stations. However, I still had to manage the tube as my first challenge. You may be thinking, “But Sarah, even I know the tube is the name for the underground trains in London. How strenuous is it to sit on a train?” If you are asking that question, you have obviously never been to London. Yes, it is pretty easy to sit on the tube but you have to first get to the tube and getting to the right tube station and then the right platform involves a maze of tunnels, stairs, enormous escalators, and lifts. Then once you are in London, you are on your feet the whole time and the city is extensive. I can’t even imagine how many miles I walked in London alone.

When I went to stay with Hetty, things got a little harder. Hetty lives about a fifteen minute walk from the nearest tube station. The neighborhood in Tufnell Park is quite beautiful but Hetty had to draw me a map so I could figure out all the turns to get to her flat. So now I had the walk to and from the tube plus the tube plus walking around London. Doing that is when I strained a muscle. (At least, that is what I am guessing I did.) Wounded, but I survived Stage 2.

At this point, they up the ante a couple of levels for Stage 3. I wish they didn’t have such faith in me and my level of endurance. Let me tell it to you from the perspective of working through it:

First, with the heavy weight of my bag (and I thought I packed pretty light!) on my back, I walk to the tube, catch the Northern Line to St. Pancreas Train Station, find my way through there, get through the border checks and onto the Eurostar which takes me to Brussels. Now, for the second time in my life, first time on my own, I am in a country that doesn’t speak my language and all the signs are either in French, Flemish, or Dutch, none of which I understand. I manage with some Euros my mother gave me to get change for the loo, use the loo, then find the section of the station for the Metro. Finding people who speak a bit of English, I manage to get on the right one, then make the correct transfer. From there I have to find my way to Friend’s House though fortunately, I had looked at a map of the location in the US so I find my way. Still, carrying all my stuff makes this quite a bit more of a challenge and by the time I arrive at Friends House, I drop my stuff on the floor and sink down into a chair while John hurries to the sink for a glass of water to revive me which I gratefully accept.

After walking around Brussels, I reload my bags onto my back and set off for the grueling trip to the Netherlands. First, I take the wrong street and so have to ask for help to find my way to the station. Then, instead of simply reversing what I did that morning, I have to find a different station. Ideally, this will be easier but I don’t know the language and I have no sense of direction in this city. Two people tell me this is the right Metro, one person says it is not. I go with the majority. The majority is wrong. So now I am on the wrong train with no map of the metro trying to find my way back with all the signs in Flemish. By now, if not quite a bit earlier, people can hear the desperation in my voice. With their help, I find my way to the right station, and after a time, the right train to Delft. Now you think my stress would be over, but no, there are two stations in Delft. Which one am I supposed to be at? I decide on the main one but my friend is not there to meet me. Did I choose the right one? Should I find a train to the other? By this time I am an inch from sitting down and crying. This is quite stressful! I neglected to write down his address and phone number, it’s in my e-mail which I do not have access to nor do I have a phone. I sit down on a bench, put my stuff beside me, and take a shaky breath. Deciding to try for internet anyway, I find you can pay for internet. Though expensive, I decide it is worth it and I get the phone number then call my friend on a kind man’s phone. When my friend comes to get me, he asks how I am doing and that is when the tears finally win the battle. Wisely, he takes my bag from me and we walk home and he and his wife feed me. It seems I hit the wall after 5-7 days in boot camp of the foreign country variety, typically after a stressful day trying to get somewhere on my own. I know from past experience, it gets better from here. And, after all, I did manage to get myself from Hetty’s to Vivian’s passing through three countries so I am rather proud of myself. However, little did I know this was just the test that would launch me into Stage 4 of European Boot Camp.

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