This morning I ate oat-y cereal, with raisins, while watching Friends. I halfway wrapped a selection box for the guys--a selection box is just a bunch of chocolate bars in a box--then I plated a bunch of cookies and drove out to P'stewart to the beach, where I found half the population of Northern Ireland, then I went to the guys' house with their gift and now I'm writing to you. Hands down, strangest Christmas morning ever.
I'm starting to think Christmas is for children. What's worse is that I'm starting to think I'm not a child! *gasp* Frightening stuff, let me tell you. Next thing I know, people will expect me to stop going to school and get a job. madness.
I told my mother this morning that this Christmas hasn't been sad being away from home, it's just felt like a different holiday altogether. So, Merry Dec 25th, friends and family!
love,
Megan
p.s. we're having California-like weather! Maybe a little colder... but it's sunny and blue and beautiful.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Supernatural or Super Natural?
I'm currently sitting at my desk in the mostly-empty church office on a Monday, taking care of a few things that will make the next few weeks a little bit less stressful. We're beginning work to make twenty short-term missions trips possible in 2008. We plan to launch the teams by the end of January... that doesn't mean they'll leave in January, it means they'll be announced and applied for etc. Will I be off this cold (and lovely) island quite a lot this year? Yes. Excited? Yes.
The Causeway Coast Vineyard takes a sabbath month in December, so many of our ministries are closed down. They even close the office for two weeks and cancel church for two Sundays (which is mainly because the university closes, but they say they'd keep doing it even if we had our own building). Anyway, things are slow. We still send out groups on Friday afternoons to talk to the kids, and still go out on Saturdays to pray for healing.
People here are healed constantly. Nobody quite knows what's going on; and though, theologically (theoretically) speaking, it tends to get muddled, it's really quite simple. They pray for healing in the name of Jesus and just left and right cancer, dyslexia, and of course, uneven legs, are healed (if you haven't heard, it's a mysterious trend that God follows to lengthen legs to match each other).
Yes, there are loads of people who sit awkwardly unhealed at the end of prayer--and continue to be unaffected after they leave, disappointed. One woman on the healing team is fighting the same cancer she saw healed, and all of the team leaders get flu symptoms this time of year, just like everyone. One guy at the church is in recovery from a major surgery that he hoped to avoid and was prayed for everyday for weeks, probably longer. The H.O.T.S. (Healing on the Streets) team is constantly praying with no visible result. But they just keep on going because, maybe it will happen again today.
What's great about these people is that they don't pretend to know anything about why or how we see healing sometimes and not others. They aren't scared to look stupid. They aren't brainwashed, and the strangers they pray for aren't crazy. It's actually real, and it's astounding how normal it is. When something is healed, you don't look on and think I've just seen a miracle! It's not as if something is erased from a person; it's like things are as they should be. People should be healthy, shouldn't they? It's the sickness that is unnatural, not the healing. And besides, that, Paul says, to live is Christ, to die is gain--meaning that our lives are connected with God, and that death is a step up, because we get to be with God, without sin (which is, separation). Of course death has become natural, but the bible makes it clear that death was never the point--that's another thing for another day.
I thought that witnessing healing would increase my faith, or make me a supercharged Christian. But it hasn't. And that's because it's just so normal, so average, so anticlimactic. Honestly, I get more excited about a person who overcomes self-hatred, selfishness or disappointment--which are spiritual cancers. But these physical healings are simply signs that God loves people and that we aren't as far from Heaven as it sometimes seems--in Christian circles, we call it "signs of the Kingdom." And though it sounds ludicrous, I believe fractals in nature and Gabriel Garcia Marquez's writing style are as much signs of the Kingdom as healing. They aren't an end in themselves, but they point us toward our purpose, which is to love God.
The Causeway Coast Vineyard takes a sabbath month in December, so many of our ministries are closed down. They even close the office for two weeks and cancel church for two Sundays (which is mainly because the university closes, but they say they'd keep doing it even if we had our own building). Anyway, things are slow. We still send out groups on Friday afternoons to talk to the kids, and still go out on Saturdays to pray for healing.
People here are healed constantly. Nobody quite knows what's going on; and though, theologically (theoretically) speaking, it tends to get muddled, it's really quite simple. They pray for healing in the name of Jesus and just left and right cancer, dyslexia, and of course, uneven legs, are healed (if you haven't heard, it's a mysterious trend that God follows to lengthen legs to match each other).
Yes, there are loads of people who sit awkwardly unhealed at the end of prayer--and continue to be unaffected after they leave, disappointed. One woman on the healing team is fighting the same cancer she saw healed, and all of the team leaders get flu symptoms this time of year, just like everyone. One guy at the church is in recovery from a major surgery that he hoped to avoid and was prayed for everyday for weeks, probably longer. The H.O.T.S. (Healing on the Streets) team is constantly praying with no visible result. But they just keep on going because, maybe it will happen again today.
What's great about these people is that they don't pretend to know anything about why or how we see healing sometimes and not others. They aren't scared to look stupid. They aren't brainwashed, and the strangers they pray for aren't crazy. It's actually real, and it's astounding how normal it is. When something is healed, you don't look on and think I've just seen a miracle! It's not as if something is erased from a person; it's like things are as they should be. People should be healthy, shouldn't they? It's the sickness that is unnatural, not the healing. And besides, that, Paul says, to live is Christ, to die is gain--meaning that our lives are connected with God, and that death is a step up, because we get to be with God, without sin (which is, separation). Of course death has become natural, but the bible makes it clear that death was never the point--that's another thing for another day.
I thought that witnessing healing would increase my faith, or make me a supercharged Christian. But it hasn't. And that's because it's just so normal, so average, so anticlimactic. Honestly, I get more excited about a person who overcomes self-hatred, selfishness or disappointment--which are spiritual cancers. But these physical healings are simply signs that God loves people and that we aren't as far from Heaven as it sometimes seems--in Christian circles, we call it "signs of the Kingdom." And though it sounds ludicrous, I believe fractals in nature and Gabriel Garcia Marquez's writing style are as much signs of the Kingdom as healing. They aren't an end in themselves, but they point us toward our purpose, which is to love God.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
The Way I See It #129
I've been here almost a month, and I've almost got a hold of what Coleraine is about. I wandered around town last night after all the shops closed and the kids went home and found myself in what felt like a ghost town. It isn't hard to imagine the streets clearing and people at home, with their families doing whatever it is they do--watching t.v., yelling at each other, eating dinner, etc.
It's easier for me to know where I am when the streets are empty; I don't get distracted my the strollers or the school uniforms or unfamiliar language. It was nice to be able to walk and connect all the streets I've been on, see how they weave in and around each other meeting up at strange three-way intersections, and winding down narrow roads which appear to be alleys. I've not been able to make any sense of the maps of Coleraine, so it's a long-awaited relief to feel confident going out on my own.
In many ways, Bangkok was much easier place to navigate. I always knew exactly what path to take to get where I wanted to go. That monstrous, all-consuming city just sort of swept me up and carried me along with the rest of what managed to sustain life. Coleraine is much more subtle, it takes you in circles, never reaching a conclusion, only a river, or a round-about. But it lets you grow into the landscape instead of enveloping you in grandeur.
My perception of God is small. It's part of the definition of God that I should not understand all of it. I know that when I make God big in my mind, I'm only simplifying and enlarging qualities, rather than giving God room to be something different from what I expect. The most impressive thing I've learned in the last two years is that I'm not as smart as I think I am (note: I consider myself to be a very intelligent person, don't worry about that), and that God works in little things.
It is apparent that God is big--that in 6 days the world was created, in a moment the sea was parted, with dirt and spit blindness was healed. But God works in the small ways, too. Makes himself small and smooth, rolling about in consciousness or subconsciousness reminding each person, you are mine, whether you like it or not.
I can't remember a time when the thought of God the Father, and the memory of you are mine did not incite a desire to be useful. When the Father's love is clear, when it's sitting there in front of you or rolling around in your mind, something bursts inside and says, "what can I give?" This might only last a second for you, if you don't believe, or have reasonable reasons not to believe, or are just not paying attention--but that is the only response to have, and it happens in me constantly.
So that's why I'm here, wandering foreign streets at night as an alien, That's why it doesn't matter if you agree with why I'm here or what I'm doing. That's it doesn't bother me that I sometimes doubt God, or dislike the Church, or think people are crazy (not a comment on my current situation). That's why it's not a problem that I struggle with many things in my job right now. It's why I'm secure in my strengths and weaknesses and happy to tell you about it.
It's easier for me to know where I am when the streets are empty; I don't get distracted my the strollers or the school uniforms or unfamiliar language. It was nice to be able to walk and connect all the streets I've been on, see how they weave in and around each other meeting up at strange three-way intersections, and winding down narrow roads which appear to be alleys. I've not been able to make any sense of the maps of Coleraine, so it's a long-awaited relief to feel confident going out on my own.
In many ways, Bangkok was much easier place to navigate. I always knew exactly what path to take to get where I wanted to go. That monstrous, all-consuming city just sort of swept me up and carried me along with the rest of what managed to sustain life. Coleraine is much more subtle, it takes you in circles, never reaching a conclusion, only a river, or a round-about. But it lets you grow into the landscape instead of enveloping you in grandeur.
My perception of God is small. It's part of the definition of God that I should not understand all of it. I know that when I make God big in my mind, I'm only simplifying and enlarging qualities, rather than giving God room to be something different from what I expect. The most impressive thing I've learned in the last two years is that I'm not as smart as I think I am (note: I consider myself to be a very intelligent person, don't worry about that), and that God works in little things.
It is apparent that God is big--that in 6 days the world was created, in a moment the sea was parted, with dirt and spit blindness was healed. But God works in the small ways, too. Makes himself small and smooth, rolling about in consciousness or subconsciousness reminding each person, you are mine, whether you like it or not.
I can't remember a time when the thought of God the Father, and the memory of you are mine did not incite a desire to be useful. When the Father's love is clear, when it's sitting there in front of you or rolling around in your mind, something bursts inside and says, "what can I give?" This might only last a second for you, if you don't believe, or have reasonable reasons not to believe, or are just not paying attention--but that is the only response to have, and it happens in me constantly.
So that's why I'm here, wandering foreign streets at night as an alien, That's why it doesn't matter if you agree with why I'm here or what I'm doing. That's it doesn't bother me that I sometimes doubt God, or dislike the Church, or think people are crazy (not a comment on my current situation). That's why it's not a problem that I struggle with many things in my job right now. It's why I'm secure in my strengths and weaknesses and happy to tell you about it.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
oolong fancies
My friend Eric posted a highly clever and intelligent bit about Kant, and if you've ever had to suffer through Kant's incoherent ramblings, you should read this.
http://ericgarner.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-i-kant-stand-him.html
http://ericgarner.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-i-kant-stand-him.html
A Lovely Day
Liane is in Amsterdam this week, so I am left to my own devices at home. It's actually no different than usual, except that it somehow feels less silly making plain rice with 5p (10 cent) curry sauce for dinner, for one person, instead of two.
It's nice to have the time to myself; instead of cleaning up from dinner (not much to clean), I watched Friends, then Scrubs, and then sat down to write this very blog entry you are reading. At the staff meeting this morning, Alan (the main pastor) talked about the many different ways a person can be energized: people, solitude, silence, nature, art, books, music, concepts. I'm starting to see that even though I'm having fun and I'd gladly hang out with the other interns every day, if I don't sit around by myself for a while, I'm completely useless at the office. You may be thinking, "you're useful at the office?" and my answer is a resounding, "not especially useful, no." But don't worry, I'm working on becoming useful. At this point, everyday feels like Monday. Incidentally, I don't work on Mondays.
Here's what I do: I work in the office 9-5 tuesday through friday. Then I help at various and assorted ministry things on the weekends, and here and there. Some examples are: Lift, which is a monthly prayer meeting I'm supposed to be organizing (this Friday night); Illuminate, which is a monthly servant evangelism on Saturday afternoons (this Saturday, free gift wrapping at Dunnes dept store); Sunday services, of course, where I'm supposed to manage the welcome team and the "connection cafe" for new people, as well as pre-service prayer meetings; Healing of the Streets, which is every Saturday in Coleraine, at which I have no responsibility, but am supposed to be a part of the team, though I have yet to go (H.O.T.S. is self-explanatory, yes? www.out-there.com).
And I have so far spent most of my office time in a meeting with Ricky (missions pastor, for whom I intern), making one list into another list into a better list and then making that list into three separate lists and turning those lists into sticky notes to stick to the wall above my desk so that someday I can throw away one of those stickies and hopefully feel like I accomplished something. And even though I can only accomplish a concrete task with the help of 5 different people who have jobs of their own and I'm sure don't want to answer my questions, I am actively rejecting feeling like a total pain. The hope is that I'll be here long enough to become indispensable, at which point, I'll come home. But seriously, they actually want to create a job for me and then have me do it and then delegate responsibility to put myself out of a job by the time I leave. Yep.
So far, I haven't done much exploring the coast. I hear there's beautiful stuff out there in the cold coast coldness. I tend to be a bit apathetic about scenery when I know I could just go see on a nicer day (that's right--instantly taking it for granted). But I'm getting over the weather, slowly. Also, I don't have a car, which makes things tricky--but not that tricky. It's only about 4 miles to Portstewart, where there are beaches I haven't walked on yet. And with an eensy bit of determination, I could work out some very unfamiliar muscles and ride Liane's bike out on a Monday. Or I could pay $5 for a day bus pass. Or some lovely friend with a car might come get me. (Petrol (gas), we estimated, is about $8/gallon here. Of course, minimum wage is $12.) Or, I can just go on a walk at lunch, as my office is right on the promenade ("the prom"), and that is what I plan to do today. It's a lovely day today. There's a glare on my screen from the sun! Imagine that! The sun.
The other night I was over at the guys' (interns) house in Portstewart (to those who know, it's essentially Montalban), playing Dutch Blitz (a card game similar to Nertz) in the kitchen and somehow Erik (who, coincidentally, is Dutch) began playing christmas carols on his guitar while sitting on the kitchen counter. We who were playing at the table, or leaning at the sink, or planning out cups of tea, sang along in melodies and harmonies (trying not to double harmonies, looking sideways at each other until it clicked), all amazed at Erik's repertoire of English carols (numerous verses of Silent Night, in English, as well as obscure songs, like, "Lo' How a Rose 'Ere Blooming"). I wish I had pictures. Card games and a Christmas carol chorale--I know you want to laugh at me for loving every last bit of it, but I just can't help myself.
Have a lovely day.
It's nice to have the time to myself; instead of cleaning up from dinner (not much to clean), I watched Friends, then Scrubs, and then sat down to write this very blog entry you are reading. At the staff meeting this morning, Alan (the main pastor) talked about the many different ways a person can be energized: people, solitude, silence, nature, art, books, music, concepts. I'm starting to see that even though I'm having fun and I'd gladly hang out with the other interns every day, if I don't sit around by myself for a while, I'm completely useless at the office. You may be thinking, "you're useful at the office?" and my answer is a resounding, "not especially useful, no." But don't worry, I'm working on becoming useful. At this point, everyday feels like Monday. Incidentally, I don't work on Mondays.
Here's what I do: I work in the office 9-5 tuesday through friday. Then I help at various and assorted ministry things on the weekends, and here and there. Some examples are: Lift, which is a monthly prayer meeting I'm supposed to be organizing (this Friday night); Illuminate, which is a monthly servant evangelism on Saturday afternoons (this Saturday, free gift wrapping at Dunnes dept store); Sunday services, of course, where I'm supposed to manage the welcome team and the "connection cafe" for new people, as well as pre-service prayer meetings; Healing of the Streets, which is every Saturday in Coleraine, at which I have no responsibility, but am supposed to be a part of the team, though I have yet to go (H.O.T.S. is self-explanatory, yes? www.out-there.com).
And I have so far spent most of my office time in a meeting with Ricky (missions pastor, for whom I intern), making one list into another list into a better list and then making that list into three separate lists and turning those lists into sticky notes to stick to the wall above my desk so that someday I can throw away one of those stickies and hopefully feel like I accomplished something. And even though I can only accomplish a concrete task with the help of 5 different people who have jobs of their own and I'm sure don't want to answer my questions, I am actively rejecting feeling like a total pain. The hope is that I'll be here long enough to become indispensable, at which point, I'll come home. But seriously, they actually want to create a job for me and then have me do it and then delegate responsibility to put myself out of a job by the time I leave. Yep.
So far, I haven't done much exploring the coast. I hear there's beautiful stuff out there in the cold coast coldness. I tend to be a bit apathetic about scenery when I know I could just go see on a nicer day (that's right--instantly taking it for granted). But I'm getting over the weather, slowly. Also, I don't have a car, which makes things tricky--but not that tricky. It's only about 4 miles to Portstewart, where there are beaches I haven't walked on yet. And with an eensy bit of determination, I could work out some very unfamiliar muscles and ride Liane's bike out on a Monday. Or I could pay $5 for a day bus pass. Or some lovely friend with a car might come get me. (Petrol (gas), we estimated, is about $8/gallon here. Of course, minimum wage is $12.) Or, I can just go on a walk at lunch, as my office is right on the promenade ("the prom"), and that is what I plan to do today. It's a lovely day today. There's a glare on my screen from the sun! Imagine that! The sun.
The other night I was over at the guys' (interns) house in Portstewart (to those who know, it's essentially Montalban), playing Dutch Blitz (a card game similar to Nertz) in the kitchen and somehow Erik (who, coincidentally, is Dutch) began playing christmas carols on his guitar while sitting on the kitchen counter. We who were playing at the table, or leaning at the sink, or planning out cups of tea, sang along in melodies and harmonies (trying not to double harmonies, looking sideways at each other until it clicked), all amazed at Erik's repertoire of English carols (numerous verses of Silent Night, in English, as well as obscure songs, like, "Lo' How a Rose 'Ere Blooming"). I wish I had pictures. Card games and a Christmas carol chorale--I know you want to laugh at me for loving every last bit of it, but I just can't help myself.
Have a lovely day.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
American Tradition
The Candy Cane is apparently an American tradition, considered old fashioned in foreign lands. They don't actually eat them here. Ricky didn't even know they were peppermint flavored. Hopefully I can find some at the store, but I'm not going to get my hopes up.
I'm in utter shock.
Happy Thanksgiving. We're doing T-day dinner tomorrow. The other Americans are cooking it, thank goodness.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
What's For Tea?
We had wet rain this morning, but the last two days were nice, so I didn't mind it. Nothin to do but stay inside for tea when there's wet rain out...
One thing that's been interesting about being here is the wee language barrier. Right, there's not supposed to be one, but there most definitely is. Besides the fact that anyone who lives ten feet outside the town is virtually incomprehensible (to me), there's the slang, and also just simply the regular words for things (ahem, colloquialisms).
Besides all the Irish and Scottish accents, there are interns here from New York, Canada, California, Belfast, and England--which makes for a constant conversation about accents permeating every other conversation (much like conversations you hear among college freshman about norcal/socal).
My favorite is that dinner is called, simply, tea. As in, we're going to order pizza for tea. Or, I had sandwiches and juice for tea. Tea is also called tea, so I get confused frequently. The question, "have you had tea yet?" is perplexing, as I generally have tea 4 or 5 times a day...yet only have tea just once a day, in the evenings.
Furthermore, I've heard several times that I had lemonade with my tea, or with my lunch (which is the word for lunch), when I most certainly had 7-Up. But I don't slag off, I always let them know that 7-Up will never be, nor has it ever been, lemonade. That is something I simply cannot accept.
I had the mickey taken out of me on a few occasions, but not as much as the New Yorker. The other night, Jemma, who is English, generally speaking, insisted on mimicking Matt (from NY) about the way he says "coffee"...which isn't as bad as a could be. He has only a slight accent. But Jemma decided I say it oddly, too.
Jemma is quite talkative, but mostly to herself. We share an office and it's funny mostly all day long as I never know when she's talking to me or not. She told me about a wee movie she saw recently about killer sheep who turned people into sheep by biting them-- it was supposed to be taking the mickey out of slasher vampire movies.
Despite mild teasing about my wee American accent, I received a compliment today from someone who said she liked my accent, that it is "class." Brilliant! I have a class accent, according to one person at least.
There's loads of other wee differences besides those you hear in pronunciation alone--like baysil and baasil, or like this situation, "hi I'm calling from the Vineyard church"
silence, "which church?"
sigh "the Vine-yahrd church"
"oh helloo!"
What's the crack on that vine-yahrd church anyway? What IS the crack? I think it must be like, "the haps"... (Except you sometimes hear, "that's good crack!"). One of the wee kids from the Ugandan choir I saw on Wednesday night, who, when told I was from America, lit up and said with an appropriate grin, "Wazzup!?"
One thing that's been interesting about being here is the wee language barrier. Right, there's not supposed to be one, but there most definitely is. Besides the fact that anyone who lives ten feet outside the town is virtually incomprehensible (to me), there's the slang, and also just simply the regular words for things (ahem, colloquialisms).
Besides all the Irish and Scottish accents, there are interns here from New York, Canada, California, Belfast, and England--which makes for a constant conversation about accents permeating every other conversation (much like conversations you hear among college freshman about norcal/socal).
My favorite is that dinner is called, simply, tea. As in, we're going to order pizza for tea. Or, I had sandwiches and juice for tea. Tea is also called tea, so I get confused frequently. The question, "have you had tea yet?" is perplexing, as I generally have tea 4 or 5 times a day...yet only have tea just once a day, in the evenings.
Furthermore, I've heard several times that I had lemonade with my tea, or with my lunch (which is the word for lunch), when I most certainly had 7-Up. But I don't slag off, I always let them know that 7-Up will never be, nor has it ever been, lemonade. That is something I simply cannot accept.
I had the mickey taken out of me on a few occasions, but not as much as the New Yorker. The other night, Jemma, who is English, generally speaking, insisted on mimicking Matt (from NY) about the way he says "coffee"...which isn't as bad as a could be. He has only a slight accent. But Jemma decided I say it oddly, too.
Jemma is quite talkative, but mostly to herself. We share an office and it's funny mostly all day long as I never know when she's talking to me or not. She told me about a wee movie she saw recently about killer sheep who turned people into sheep by biting them-- it was supposed to be taking the mickey out of slasher vampire movies.
Despite mild teasing about my wee American accent, I received a compliment today from someone who said she liked my accent, that it is "class." Brilliant! I have a class accent, according to one person at least.
There's loads of other wee differences besides those you hear in pronunciation alone--like baysil and baasil, or like this situation, "hi I'm calling from the Vineyard church"
silence, "which church?"
sigh "the Vine-yahrd church"
"oh helloo!"
What's the crack on that vine-yahrd church anyway? What IS the crack? I think it must be like, "the haps"... (Except you sometimes hear, "that's good crack!"). One of the wee kids from the Ugandan choir I saw on Wednesday night, who, when told I was from America, lit up and said with an appropriate grin, "Wazzup!?"
Thursday, November 15, 2007
It's been One week
Just 38 minutes ago (at the time of writing this) I finished my second full day in the office. Neither of those two days were "normal" on account of injuries, unforeseeable and potentially problematic complications with the university (where the church holds sunday services), and travels etc. Normally, apparently, everyone gets in a 9am, works. Gets together for tea at 11 for about half an hour, works. Takes an hour break for lunch at 1, then works until 5, and promptly goes home.
Not so for the first two days. Both days, I didn't even get to the end of coffee/tea/toast time until nearly 11am, at which time I either heard or thought about what I would with the rest of the day or year. And both days I spent only a few hours doing actual work and it was only today that I was able to report actual activity and a (miniscule) product! So goes the beginning stages of any job, I suppose. And possible all future stages of church jobs (so I hear). What did I do? I called a bunch of people to invite them to a function. At any rate, I like it so far. I work with good people in a tilty, drafty sort of office (yet well-heated with portable radiators) which sits on top of a seafood restaurant in Portstewart.
Home
So that's the job. More on the living situation: my house and roommate are really great. The house is lovely little townhouse, of which there are pictures on the picture page. And I like my room, and the living room has good lighting and it always smells nice because Liane is so smart, she has sachets on all the radiators so everything smells cinnamon-y. She also uses incense, which is also nice and I always forget how much I like incense. The living room is pleasant to be in and read in and Liane and I do a lot of reading. It has the same ambiance as my lamp with the lampshade I painted, which you may have seen, with deep reds and tan and brown colours, which has yet to transfer well into photo form. We're the house with the red door.
On that note, I'm trying to spell words in a way that is appropriate to my location--you may have noticed. Anyway, Liane, besides her good taste and intelligent design (in room decor, that is), is an entirely pleasant person. She's really sweet, still, even after a whole week. By the way, it was Adam who said that Irish people are charming, and I've decided I agree. Except I asked one guy, I think it was Dave, "so you're Irish" because he said he was from Belfast. But he sort of looked at another of the locals and said, "Hmm, are we Irish? Are we British? I don't know." And so it goes. Whatever they're called up here in Northern Ireland, they are pleasant.
Anyway, Liane and I share a general propensity to buy the cheapest thing at the store, as grocery store sales can be quite outrageous and some people are really into it. Supposedly, someone at church got a bag of decent bagels (5, or 6, I don't know) for 15p, which is approximately 30 cents. It depends on the day, time of day, and place you go, I guess. Hopefully I can acquire a skill for it quickly. By the way, most small shops are closed on Sundays, and after 6pm. Even the local coffee shop closes; $7/cup Starbucks stays open.
Coleraine
Besides work, and home, there's the town. I visited the Coleraine Library only to discover the only real literature that's findable is by W.B. Yeats (you'd like he was the only famous Irish writer, it's the most common topic following my answer, "I studied English Literature") and a biography of/response to Iris Murdoch. I did find Anna Ahkmatova's poetry, which was a surprise to me, and a little bit funny since she is one the few poets whose poems I don't need to reread. All in all it was a crappy library, which is disappointing not only because it's the only public library, but also because it's a neat shape, and right now the town centre and I would have enjoyed going there often. I am going to try out the University library, or else I'll just be reading christian books and borrowed books for the next year. There is a book store, but I haven't checked the prices yet -- it's bound to be outrageous (ha! bound!).
I think I like Coleraine, the capital of the Causeway Coast. It's friendly , so far. I think Christmas will be fun. Seems like the town makes quite a fuss about it. There is a ceremony, complete with fireworks, on Friday night to celebrate the turning on of the lights in the Diamond (the town centre), and soon and until New Years, many of the shops will be extending their hours way past the normal times--all the way to 9pm.
Not so for the first two days. Both days, I didn't even get to the end of coffee/tea/toast time until nearly 11am, at which time I either heard or thought about what I would with the rest of the day or year. And both days I spent only a few hours doing actual work and it was only today that I was able to report actual activity and a (miniscule) product! So goes the beginning stages of any job, I suppose. And possible all future stages of church jobs (so I hear). What did I do? I called a bunch of people to invite them to a function. At any rate, I like it so far. I work with good people in a tilty, drafty sort of office (yet well-heated with portable radiators) which sits on top of a seafood restaurant in Portstewart.
Home
So that's the job. More on the living situation: my house and roommate are really great. The house is lovely little townhouse, of which there are pictures on the picture page. And I like my room, and the living room has good lighting and it always smells nice because Liane is so smart, she has sachets on all the radiators so everything smells cinnamon-y. She also uses incense, which is also nice and I always forget how much I like incense. The living room is pleasant to be in and read in and Liane and I do a lot of reading. It has the same ambiance as my lamp with the lampshade I painted, which you may have seen, with deep reds and tan and brown colours, which has yet to transfer well into photo form. We're the house with the red door.
On that note, I'm trying to spell words in a way that is appropriate to my location--you may have noticed. Anyway, Liane, besides her good taste and intelligent design (in room decor, that is), is an entirely pleasant person. She's really sweet, still, even after a whole week. By the way, it was Adam who said that Irish people are charming, and I've decided I agree. Except I asked one guy, I think it was Dave, "so you're Irish" because he said he was from Belfast. But he sort of looked at another of the locals and said, "Hmm, are we Irish? Are we British? I don't know." And so it goes. Whatever they're called up here in Northern Ireland, they are pleasant.
Anyway, Liane and I share a general propensity to buy the cheapest thing at the store, as grocery store sales can be quite outrageous and some people are really into it. Supposedly, someone at church got a bag of decent bagels (5, or 6, I don't know) for 15p, which is approximately 30 cents. It depends on the day, time of day, and place you go, I guess. Hopefully I can acquire a skill for it quickly. By the way, most small shops are closed on Sundays, and after 6pm. Even the local coffee shop closes; $7/cup Starbucks stays open.
Coleraine
Besides work, and home, there's the town. I visited the Coleraine Library only to discover the only real literature that's findable is by W.B. Yeats (you'd like he was the only famous Irish writer, it's the most common topic following my answer, "I studied English Literature") and a biography of/response to Iris Murdoch. I did find Anna Ahkmatova's poetry, which was a surprise to me, and a little bit funny since she is one the few poets whose poems I don't need to reread. All in all it was a crappy library, which is disappointing not only because it's the only public library, but also because it's a neat shape, and right now the town centre and I would have enjoyed going there often. I am going to try out the University library, or else I'll just be reading christian books and borrowed books for the next year. There is a book store, but I haven't checked the prices yet -- it's bound to be outrageous (ha! bound!).
I think I like Coleraine, the capital of the Causeway Coast. It's friendly , so far. I think Christmas will be fun. Seems like the town makes quite a fuss about it. There is a ceremony, complete with fireworks, on Friday night to celebrate the turning on of the lights in the Diamond (the town centre), and soon and until New Years, many of the shops will be extending their hours way past the normal times--all the way to 9pm.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Halloo!
I spent most of today sleeping. I woke up every couple hours or so to the train which clunks along about 50 metres away. When I finally decided it would be ridiculous to stay in bed all day, I wandered downstairs only to realize that it was hailing outside and I better go back to bed.
My roommate's granddad came by with a man to fix the washer door, which had fallen off. He said that today is the first real show of winter they've had. He said October was beautiful, with people walkin'round in t-shirts! Today's a good day to stay inside, he said.
Liane was a bit embarrassed by the washer door, and the heating system which recently broke, and some other things too which I didn't notice, like dust on the top of the t.v.. The heating should be fixed this weekend, but I was quite warm last night with two comforters and a space heater to warm up my room initially.
So, story of my flight, in short. I had a ten hour flight from SF to London (Heathrow), during which I had the window seat, no one sat in the middle, and on the aisle seat was a nice old lady who splits her time between her hometown in East Sussex and the residence of her children in Menlo Park. Jo (Josephine) eventually moved to a seat further back in the plane to get away from the ever-crying two year old in the family seats next to us.
The crying didn't bother me all that much, to my surprise, so I stretched out on all three seats and continued my movie. I didn't sleep more than an hour the whole time, even though when we landed it was technically 3 a.m.. Jo gave me all her information and asked me to please come and visit her in England.
So then I spent about two hours in Heathrow waiting for my flight to Belfast... spent four dollars on really good orange juice (thanks for the £5, Daniel) and then slept for most of the 1.5 hour flight to Belfast. When I landed, I had no problems besides breaking the handle of my large suitcase while dragging the monstrous thing off the conveyor belt. I wandered around for a while figuring church people would be confused and probably late, which they were.
Story: The girl who was supposed to pick me up had car trouble, so sent another of the interns to get me, who are Sarah and Eben and their baby Luca (sp?), Eben is one of the worship interns. They're from Ohio. Anyway, Jemma told them I was coming at "quarter three" which Sarah took to mean 3:15, but actually meant 2:45. So far, I've noticed they say, "half nine" for 9:30, so I understand why Sarah mixed it up. And then they were late besides that. But my flight was delayed, so it all worked out pretty well. P.S. Almost 1-year-old Luca is a fantastic child; made the cutest noises all the way from Belfast to Coleraine.
Going on with the story, I got a tour of Portrush, Portstewart, and some of Coleraine due to further confusion about the location of Liane's house, which is off Portrush Road, in Coleraine--you see how that could be confusing? I won't even bother with the story. I didn't end up going to the church office last night, since we got into town after 5, so I just met a few people while I was all disgusting from the flight, and then finally met Liane at her house.
Liane and I made frozen pizzas, burned them slightly on accident, and ate them while watching season one of Friends, though they call it "series" one. We had tea also, and talked for a long time about travel and the difference between "yarn" and "wool" which started this way: "what did you call the wool?"
"What did I call what? The yarn? Yarn." I replied.
"Oh, you call wool... yarn?" she asked.
"Yes. But this is acrylic anyway" and so it went.
So that brings me up to date. I've left out adventures in unpacking wrinkled, kind of smelly clothes, adventures in not-quite figuring out the shower, and adventures in why was I wide awake at 1a.m. and not at noon?, but you'll be ok without those.
One of my neighbors may have wireless internet that I can "borrow"... it worked for about 3 minutes, but so far Liane neither has internet access, nor has she ever heard of a "wireless connection." There's one in the neighborhood but it worked once last thursday and then again right now. Not sure what's up with that! I hear the library has a good connection.
One last thing: you know when you're talking to someone and they say something and you respond in agreement or acknowledgment or something and halfway through a response you realize you don't know what they said? That's like every conversation so far for me.
Thanks for reading, I know this a long one. They will be long at first and then they'll get shorter as things get to be normal, so hang in there.
_______
That last bit was from a few days ago. So I'll give a short today update. It's LOVELY outside. I'm waiting for Liane to return with my coat, which I left at church, so I can go ride her bike around town... taking advantage of the rare blue skies and all. Some things:
1) the church is fantastic.
2) the people are "brilliant"
3) the food is "gorgeous" they say... though so far it's a bit greasy for my taste
4) I'm already picking up the accent, though
5) I can't understand half the locals, but fortunately
6) most of the church staff etc aren't locals
7) little irish children are hilarious, all the boys look like tiny men, all proud walkers and whatnot.
8) Starbucks is SO expensive! Has anyone tried the creme brulee latte? I'm waiting to be taken out again before trying it.
9) my camera screen broke, so my picture may not be the greatest. I haven't taken any yet, but hopefully I will today.
10) my roommate is great great great
11) I miss you and when I'm in the office daily I'll be a much better correspondent.
love,
megan
My roommate's granddad came by with a man to fix the washer door, which had fallen off. He said that today is the first real show of winter they've had. He said October was beautiful, with people walkin'round in t-shirts! Today's a good day to stay inside, he said.
Liane was a bit embarrassed by the washer door, and the heating system which recently broke, and some other things too which I didn't notice, like dust on the top of the t.v.. The heating should be fixed this weekend, but I was quite warm last night with two comforters and a space heater to warm up my room initially.
So, story of my flight, in short. I had a ten hour flight from SF to London (Heathrow), during which I had the window seat, no one sat in the middle, and on the aisle seat was a nice old lady who splits her time between her hometown in East Sussex and the residence of her children in Menlo Park. Jo (Josephine) eventually moved to a seat further back in the plane to get away from the ever-crying two year old in the family seats next to us.
The crying didn't bother me all that much, to my surprise, so I stretched out on all three seats and continued my movie. I didn't sleep more than an hour the whole time, even though when we landed it was technically 3 a.m.. Jo gave me all her information and asked me to please come and visit her in England.
So then I spent about two hours in Heathrow waiting for my flight to Belfast... spent four dollars on really good orange juice (thanks for the £5, Daniel) and then slept for most of the 1.5 hour flight to Belfast. When I landed, I had no problems besides breaking the handle of my large suitcase while dragging the monstrous thing off the conveyor belt. I wandered around for a while figuring church people would be confused and probably late, which they were.
Story: The girl who was supposed to pick me up had car trouble, so sent another of the interns to get me, who are Sarah and Eben and their baby Luca (sp?), Eben is one of the worship interns. They're from Ohio. Anyway, Jemma told them I was coming at "quarter three" which Sarah took to mean 3:15, but actually meant 2:45. So far, I've noticed they say, "half nine" for 9:30, so I understand why Sarah mixed it up. And then they were late besides that. But my flight was delayed, so it all worked out pretty well. P.S. Almost 1-year-old Luca is a fantastic child; made the cutest noises all the way from Belfast to Coleraine.
Going on with the story, I got a tour of Portrush, Portstewart, and some of Coleraine due to further confusion about the location of Liane's house, which is off Portrush Road, in Coleraine--you see how that could be confusing? I won't even bother with the story. I didn't end up going to the church office last night, since we got into town after 5, so I just met a few people while I was all disgusting from the flight, and then finally met Liane at her house.
Liane and I made frozen pizzas, burned them slightly on accident, and ate them while watching season one of Friends, though they call it "series" one. We had tea also, and talked for a long time about travel and the difference between "yarn" and "wool" which started this way: "what did you call the wool?"
"What did I call what? The yarn? Yarn." I replied.
"Oh, you call wool... yarn?" she asked.
"Yes. But this is acrylic anyway" and so it went.
So that brings me up to date. I've left out adventures in unpacking wrinkled, kind of smelly clothes, adventures in not-quite figuring out the shower, and adventures in why was I wide awake at 1a.m. and not at noon?, but you'll be ok without those.
One of my neighbors may have wireless internet that I can "borrow"... it worked for about 3 minutes, but so far Liane neither has internet access, nor has she ever heard of a "wireless connection." There's one in the neighborhood but it worked once last thursday and then again right now. Not sure what's up with that! I hear the library has a good connection.
One last thing: you know when you're talking to someone and they say something and you respond in agreement or acknowledgment or something and halfway through a response you realize you don't know what they said? That's like every conversation so far for me.
Thanks for reading, I know this a long one. They will be long at first and then they'll get shorter as things get to be normal, so hang in there.
_______
That last bit was from a few days ago. So I'll give a short today update. It's LOVELY outside. I'm waiting for Liane to return with my coat, which I left at church, so I can go ride her bike around town... taking advantage of the rare blue skies and all. Some things:
1) the church is fantastic.
2) the people are "brilliant"
3) the food is "gorgeous" they say... though so far it's a bit greasy for my taste
4) I'm already picking up the accent, though
5) I can't understand half the locals, but fortunately
6) most of the church staff etc aren't locals
7) little irish children are hilarious, all the boys look like tiny men, all proud walkers and whatnot.
8) Starbucks is SO expensive! Has anyone tried the creme brulee latte? I'm waiting to be taken out again before trying it.
9) my camera screen broke, so my picture may not be the greatest. I haven't taken any yet, but hopefully I will today.
10) my roommate is great great great
11) I miss you and when I'm in the office daily I'll be a much better correspondent.
love,
megan
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
If My Suitcase Explodes, Take Cover
I'm leaving this afternoon and I couldn't be more pleased to say so; after wasting hours on Virgin Atlantic's near-useless website (actual flight quality t.b.a.) and one useless phone call, I childishly recruited my mother to call them for me and figure it all out. It was a good thing, too, because mother managed to have a useful person answer the phone, and our questions.
In short, I'm relieved to be checked-in.
In other news, I've discovered that despite my self-proclaimed virtuosity in the art of creating neutron star-like suitcases, I have not managed to pack everything I want to take into two suitcases. I may end up wearing six sweaters and my Kirkland (ugg) boots on the plane to save space (ugh).
Boarding time is this afternoon at 5:30ish, at SFO.
____
And thanks to all of you who have been financially supportive of this thing. I haven't quite reached my goal in terms of finances, but I'm getting close! I'll keep you updated on that as I go. You are making it possible for me to do this, so thank you very, very much!
In short, I'm relieved to be checked-in.
In other news, I've discovered that despite my self-proclaimed virtuosity in the art of creating neutron star-like suitcases, I have not managed to pack everything I want to take into two suitcases. I may end up wearing six sweaters and my Kirkland (ugg) boots on the plane to save space (ugh).
Boarding time is this afternoon at 5:30ish, at SFO.
____
And thanks to all of you who have been financially supportive of this thing. I haven't quite reached my goal in terms of finances, but I'm getting close! I'll keep you updated on that as I go. You are making it possible for me to do this, so thank you very, very much!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
I was finally awake for an earthquake.
This is a photo from cnn.com of the damage in San Jose, which was much closer than I was to the epicenter of this 5.6 quake:
As you can see, the damage is extensive.
As you can see, the damage is extensive.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
My Support Letter
Dear you,
I'm writing to tell you about my upcoming trip to Northern Ireland. I've decided to spend this year (before grad school) participating in a ministry training internship program. I'll need a certain amount of support from friends and family in order to make it work, so I've put together this description of the program as well as my reasons for going.
First, I'd like to apologize for not sending out a graduation announcement. I never really got around to it. But, if you like, here's my announcement: I graduated this year from Cal Poly (in San Luis Obispo) with a B.A. in English, and I earned a certificate to Teach English as a Second Language. I spent my last quarter and part of the summer teaching English in Bangkok, Thailand, which was an incomparable experience--both challenging and wonderful. I've kept myself moderately busy since I got home by washing breakfast dishes, unpacking boxes from school, and even working a little.
Now that I've brought you up to date, I can tell you about what exactly I'm planning to do in Ireland. I'm going to be at the Causeway Coast Vineyard, a church in Coleraine. I'll be going through a ten-month, full-time, formal work internship program in which I will be supervised and trained by the missions pastor to do a variety of things. Here is the description of the internship:
1. You would be responsible for helping the Missions Pastor oversee, develop and encourage the existing outreach ministries and strategy of the church within our local community as well as launching new strategies and ministries to reach our community.
2. You would be responsible for helping the Missions Pastor develop Mission Teams that reach beyond our local community to surrounding communities and Overseas to other nations.
3. You would also be responsible for helping the Missions Pastor enable the church to effectively engage locally and globally in Compassion Ministry.
4. You would also be responsible for helping the Missions Pastor oversee and facilitate the integration of New Believers and Newcomers into the church family.
I applied to this program because I wanted to do something meaningful and I wanted to learn something while I'm not in school. Really, I want to serve God in ways that are new to me, and I want to be purposeful about learning how to be a Christian. I've looked at bible schools and theology programs, but those programs don't get at the
heart of Jesus' ministry. I want to actually do something, and do it right. This church has established a program with the resources to teach and enable me, as an intern, to do something for God, while working alongside other interns and the pastoral staff.
This is not a vacation, though I am thrilled to get to go to Ireland. I think that going to another country will give me a new perspective on my life as a Christian, and my place in the global community. I am excited to live in a beautiful place (though rather rainy and cold, I hear), but I'm most excited about having time away from life, to focus on how I want to live. Namely, to give my full attention to learning how to tell people about Jesus and what he did. At this church, I'll get to do all of that at a place where there's already outreach programs in motion, which I can learn from and add to.
This internship is full-time and uncompensated, and I'll be responsible for all of my living expenses while I'm interning. The church estimates my total cost of living to be about $700/month (£350) for rent, food, the bus, etc. And over the course of the year, I may be a part of overseas missions trips, which would cost something in addition to my basic living costs. I'm going to be leaving during the first week of November, as I have signed up late for the internship and would like to get there as soon as possible.
If you would like, and are able, to help support me financially, or if you'd like to receive a newsletter from me through snail mail, please send back the response card (a.s.a.p.) to let me know. Also, it would be wonderful if you’d like to read my online journal that I will write, and leave comments so I don't get too homesick while I'm gone. And if you don't want to do any of those things, at least recycle this paper!
Thanks for reading!
Love,
Megan
www.causewaycoastvineyard.com
Please Send donations to:
Megan Hansen
c/o VCF Modesto
6917 Arrowwood Dr.
Riverbank, CA 95367
I'm writing to tell you about my upcoming trip to Northern Ireland. I've decided to spend this year (before grad school) participating in a ministry training internship program. I'll need a certain amount of support from friends and family in order to make it work, so I've put together this description of the program as well as my reasons for going.
First, I'd like to apologize for not sending out a graduation announcement. I never really got around to it. But, if you like, here's my announcement: I graduated this year from Cal Poly (in San Luis Obispo) with a B.A. in English, and I earned a certificate to Teach English as a Second Language. I spent my last quarter and part of the summer teaching English in Bangkok, Thailand, which was an incomparable experience--both challenging and wonderful. I've kept myself moderately busy since I got home by washing breakfast dishes, unpacking boxes from school, and even working a little.
Now that I've brought you up to date, I can tell you about what exactly I'm planning to do in Ireland. I'm going to be at the Causeway Coast Vineyard, a church in Coleraine. I'll be going through a ten-month, full-time, formal work internship program in which I will be supervised and trained by the missions pastor to do a variety of things. Here is the description of the internship:
1. You would be responsible for helping the Missions Pastor oversee, develop and encourage the existing outreach ministries and strategy of the church within our local community as well as launching new strategies and ministries to reach our community.
2. You would be responsible for helping the Missions Pastor develop Mission Teams that reach beyond our local community to surrounding communities and Overseas to other nations.
3. You would also be responsible for helping the Missions Pastor enable the church to effectively engage locally and globally in Compassion Ministry.
4. You would also be responsible for helping the Missions Pastor oversee and facilitate the integration of New Believers and Newcomers into the church family.
I applied to this program because I wanted to do something meaningful and I wanted to learn something while I'm not in school. Really, I want to serve God in ways that are new to me, and I want to be purposeful about learning how to be a Christian. I've looked at bible schools and theology programs, but those programs don't get at the
heart of Jesus' ministry. I want to actually do something, and do it right. This church has established a program with the resources to teach and enable me, as an intern, to do something for God, while working alongside other interns and the pastoral staff.
This is not a vacation, though I am thrilled to get to go to Ireland. I think that going to another country will give me a new perspective on my life as a Christian, and my place in the global community. I am excited to live in a beautiful place (though rather rainy and cold, I hear), but I'm most excited about having time away from life, to focus on how I want to live. Namely, to give my full attention to learning how to tell people about Jesus and what he did. At this church, I'll get to do all of that at a place where there's already outreach programs in motion, which I can learn from and add to.
This internship is full-time and uncompensated, and I'll be responsible for all of my living expenses while I'm interning. The church estimates my total cost of living to be about $700/month (£350) for rent, food, the bus, etc. And over the course of the year, I may be a part of overseas missions trips, which would cost something in addition to my basic living costs. I'm going to be leaving during the first week of November, as I have signed up late for the internship and would like to get there as soon as possible.
If you would like, and are able, to help support me financially, or if you'd like to receive a newsletter from me through snail mail, please send back the response card (a.s.a.p.) to let me know. Also, it would be wonderful if you’d like to read my online journal that I will write, and leave comments so I don't get too homesick while I'm gone. And if you don't want to do any of those things, at least recycle this paper!
Thanks for reading!
Love,
Megan
www.causewaycoastvineyard.com
Please Send donations to:
Megan Hansen
c/o VCF Modesto
6917 Arrowwood Dr.
Riverbank, CA 95367
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Prologue
Welcome to my Ireland blog! I'll start posting when I get there. You can practice commenting here to see if it works.
Megan
Megan
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