Confessions

Laba diena, world!

It is sunny today. A delightful thing in any part of the world, no doubt, but it is especially so here, where the sun is seldom seen during remarkably gray winter months. But the sun shines brilliantly, and it has for almost a week straight. Clearly God's favour shines on Klaipeda lately.

I mentioned last time an upcoming trip to Stockholm. Well, said trip came quickly and went wonderfully. I was absolutely enthralled by the 14-island city, by it's staggeringly beautiful and balanced blend of ancient history and the ultra modern. Not that I've been that many places, but it really was unlike any place I'd ever been. Some notable highlights: wandering through the medieval streets and palace grounds of the old town, cheering for Sweden at Europe's largest hockey arena in a friendly Sweden-Russia game, shopping in the city's sprawling (and remarkably trendy) shopping district (which is almost a whole island to itself), sipping hot drinks at coffeeshops that put every Starbucks to shame, and on and on. Even the hours of bus and plane travel on either end of the trip was a great way to see more of this part of the world in which I now reside. As an added bonus, I know all the ins-and-outs of the Riga International Airport now too.That may come in handy again someday.

Since then, I've resumed my LCC life. But even that is anything but boring and predictable, though. I'm still working at the Klaipeda Special School. I normally go in 3 or 4 mornings a week. It's hard to describe exactly what I do, but this past week, in celebration of Valentine's Day, I assisted the school psychologist and social worker in putting on a little Valentine's card-making bash. Lots of tracing, cutting, colouring, and fun, and I may or may not have received a few gifts myself along the way. The rest of my days at the school are still spent in helping and playing in whatever ways I can. Though this is a rather simple evaluation of the whole thing so far, I'll say that it's been a great experience. I've learned a ton, but I don't even know if I could articulate it all right now.

So that's some of what I'm up to. But you know what, dear blogosphere? I have a confession. I have a hard time with writing here lately. Before this point, I've never lacked for material or inspiration for my ramblings. But for some reason, at a time where I am being constantly stimulated by new things and theoretically should be bursting at the seams with inspiration, I am kind of at a loss. I can certainly talk about the things that occupy my time, but I've always preferred to reflect more thoughtfully. But to do so requires some kind of concrete perspective or thought. Perhaps simply because my stimulation is so constant, and each experience is so new, and each day brings with new feelings and knowledge, I don't really feel like I'm at the right vantage point for philosophical musings on my present circumstances. Which is kind of a funny place for me to be in, because, as you may know, I really like all that philosophical musing stuff.

Ah well. Before I know it I'll be on my way home and trying once again to make sense of all of this. I still think very often about my time in Philly, and still feel impacted by all that happened there. So soon enough this time in Europe will be another experience relegated to the slow-cooker of influence that is memory. Hmm.. think about that.

So I'll end these pseudo-philosophical thoughts with something inspirational. Though it is rather specific...
If you are a 14-year old student, studying in the land of Canada, studying French in Grade 9, wondering whether to drop it and finally gain your freedom from the tyranny of the tres difficile, please do not. Because some day down the road, when you are 20-years old and your 8 years of mandatory french education is tightly locked in a vault in the recesses of your mind, you may find yourself in a place where everyone you meet speaks two languages better than you can speak one. And most people can speak three or four without batting an eye. And you will be asked by others and indeed ask yourself why you cannot speak more than one language. Aren't Canadians supposed to know French? you will be asked. And suddenly all of your adolescent reasoning and ethnocentric scoffing at the idea of learning French will suddenly seem remarkably short-sighted. And as you realize your severe linguistic handicap you will curse the day that band or gym or art or sleep took precedence over the priceless skill of bilingualism, when it was yours to cherish and to hold.


I speak from experience.

Well, that is all for tonight. I have one final thought that does not connect with anything I have said thus far. It is a fragment of 1 Corinthians 15:10. The Apostle Paul, on the state of his life: But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect.

By the grace of God, we are who we are. Receive that grace, and display its effects.

Love,
jmb

Labas!

Hey world,

It's late on a Thursday evening. Life, to put it simply, has been great lately. But I don't have much time to talk about that. Because in the morning, I embark on another mini-adventure. An adventure within an adventure.

I'm spending the weekend in Stockholm. (I just like saying that. Not every day I'll be able to answer the So, what did you do this weekend question with, "Oh, you know, not much. Went to Stockholm. Hung out.")

So that should be awesome. Got a whole bunch of buses and planes to catch on the way, but by the end of it I'll have conquered a little more of Northern Europe. That's right. I'm here to conquer.

In other news, I'm a couple weeks into my practicum at Klaipedos 2-oji Specialoji Mokykla (Klaipeda 2nd Special School), where I shadow a school psychologist, and spend my mornings playing/teaching developmentally disabled children. It's a lot of colouring, playing, tutoring, and the odd English lesson too. Great times. Much more on that to come.

Hope wherever you are right now, you feel loved and blessed. Because you are.
Aight. Peace for now!
jmb