tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-171787912011-12-02T22:07:51.345+01:00Detailing a "Czech Dream" I have fallen into or woken from every day for more than a year now. My life from Sokolov in the Czech Republic, teaching English, pursuing Christ, having Life Together with his followers. If I had less hair and no <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2005/12/million-dollar-questions.html"><strong>FIANCÉ</strong></a>, I could be a monk, I guess.Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.comBlogger721100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1157464802838534172006-09-05T15:50:00.000+02:002006-09-05T16:00:02.906+02:00So the wedding was a big success, in that it did, in fact, marry us, and that it went pretty smoothly, too. It was pretty great, actually, but like all our friends told us, it also went by in a snap. So much build up for one quick day. But it was worth it. We're waiting on pictures now, and a video.<br /><br />So now that we're married, we thought it'd save time and trouble if we just kept the world up on our comings and goings with just one blog. Here is that blog:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.joelandchrissy.blogspot.com/">www.joelandchrissy.blogspot.com/</a><br /><br />Thanks to those of you who came to visit this little one-year storybook of mine. Even though there won't be anymore posts here, I'll keep it online for a while, in case you really liked the speedo story or the medovník recipe and can't live without 'em. And such.<br /><br />Tak. Sbohem, old blog. I hope to see ya'll at <a href="http://www.joelandchrissy.blogspot.com/">the new place</a>, friends.<br /><br />Na shledanou.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-115746480283853417?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1150400602303631372006-06-15T20:52:00.000+02:002006-06-15T21:43:22.320+02:00Whatever overlap you have with a foreign place or person, culture shock goes both ways.<br /><br />Take food, for example. The past two years have been one taste experience after another, from my first <span style="font-style: italic;">knedliky </span>to last week's <span style="font-style: italic;">borsht</span>. But as my Czech friends share the ins and outs of their lives (and cookbooks), occasionally it falls to me to return the favor with some new-to-them American recipe.<br /><br />So Ondřej tried peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (not bad, but do children really eat this every day?), and Lenka sampled chai tea (an odd name for Czechs, as their word for tea <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> "chai"), and Pepa asked for a second helping of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream (it took twenty minutes just to explain the name).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_8311.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_8311.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>To celebrate that summer has come at last, I've been attending garden parties this week. So, partly out of fond gratitude for my friends' kind hospitality, partly to clean my cupboards before heading home, and partly just to see their reactions, I've been taking some American staples with me for my friends to try out.<br /><br />Today I introduced Petr, Jirka and their wives to pumpkin pie. Sure, it's out of season, but as Jirka so deftly put it, "When is it food, is it good for me." And when they tasted it, nobody minded that it's a typical Thanksgiving dish; rather, Zdeňka asked if I had brought turkey as well.<br /><br />Root beer floats didn't quite go over as well. My Tuesday afternoon conversation group gave them a fair try, but in the end I was left with dirty dishes and polite words. Only Eva's husband gave his unequivocal support. And Pepa, who I thought was a sure bet, said outright that it was strange and he didn't like it. When I asked him if he wanted more, he replied, "No thanks; I don't need any cough medicine."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_8307.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_8307.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Jara just wanted to taste root beer straight and he didn't have a cup. But his approach didn't do much to quell the cough medicine critique.<br /><br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-115040060230363137?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1150229281519274102006-06-13T22:01:00.000+02:002006-06-14T00:52:52.026+02:00<a href="http://fifaworldcup.yahoo.com/06/en/">World Cup</a> soccer is in full swing in nextdoor Germany, and the world (minus most people in the USA) is reeling over it. On a worldwide scale, this month-long soccer tournament is the biggest single sporting event in the world---and that includes the Olympics. And the world does take its soccer---excuse me, <span style="font-style: italic;">football<span style="font-style: italic;">---</span></span><font><font>seriously.<br /><br />For the last World Cup (2002) I lucked out, studying abroad that very month in Spain. The baseball-loving American that I am, I probably only would have heard about this big affair later, maybe as a short blurb on the news had I been stateside. But our language school was situated on the third floor of a cantina consistently packed with Brazilians. We were interrupted by every shot on goal. Furthermore, when the Spanish national team was eliminated in the quarterfinals, vitriol filled the Spanish airwaves to a degreen I've seldom heard, even for sports. The questionable call that robbed Spain of its would-have-been winning goal was aired as the headline story on national news broadcasts <span style="font-style: italic;">every night for two weeks. </span>No kidding.<br /><br />And let me tell you: the Czechs take the Cup no less seriously. After all, FIFA, the leading soccer federation that hosts the Cup, ranks the Czech team 2nd in the world, right behind perennial maestros Brazil. We'll see how it plays out.<br /><br />Yesterday the United States played the Czech Republic in each team's first game, and for the record, in spite of my current residence and the contagious nationalism of my friends and colleagues, and in spite of my own country's general apathy towards the sport, and in spite of the fact that an American win would have made the next day inconvenient if not in danger, I could not bring myself to cheer against my home country. From now on I will cheer on the Czechs and hope that my Americans can recover from the loss and scrape together the two difficult wins we'll probably need in order to advance.<br /><br />But for the record: this American cheered for America.<br /></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-115022928151927410?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1150055204735255682006-06-11T21:44:00.000+02:002006-06-11T21:46:45.156+02:00<br/><br /><br/><br />"I don't get it. You have <span style="font-style: italic;">aunties</span> but you don't have <span style="font-style: italic;">uncle-ies</span>."<br />- Veronika<br /><br/><br />"I will borrow you my dress."<br />- Jirka, who then lent me his jacket<br /><br/><br /><br/><br /><br/><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-115005520473525568?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1149500100554230062006-06-05T11:27:00.000+02:002006-06-05T13:30:58.296+02:00So last Friday morning I attended my last ISŠTE classes' graduation ceremonies. ISŠTE holds these ceremonies in Sokolov's very own castle (which has been painted pink for some reason, but it works) in a room normally used for weddings. Only one class-worth of students and parents can fit into the room at any given time, so all together I attended five ceremonies over two Fridays. Actually, I really like the intimate feel that doing it like this provides, nobody getting lost in a long line of every graduating student in the school.<br /><br />And it fits in other ways too, namely that graduation isn't as big a deal here as it is in the States. All the big pomp and circumstance happens at the ples (the big midwinter "prom" dance). These graduation ceremonies mostly involve the handing out of final grade reports, a few short good-bye speeches by the principal and the class teacher, and lots of pictures.<br /><br />So if giving finals last April was the beginning of the end, the end of maturitas and the last good-bye of my graduates is the middle of the end. And now that June is upon us, the official countdown has 20 school days left and 25 days until I board a flight back to California.<br /><br />This week: the second round of final exams, another week of good-byes (some of them last good-byes), and lots more packing and grading and closing up of another year.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/4PV%20Graduation%20Picture.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/4PV%20Graduation%20Picture.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>4.PV - Management and Law students. <span style="font-style: italic;">I taught the </span>x <span style="font-style: italic;">half ("my girls") for two years and inherited the </span>y <span style="font-style: italic;">half from my teammate last year.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/4TL%20Graduation%20Picture.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/4TL%20Graduation%20Picture.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />4.TL - Technical Lyceum students. <span style="font-style: italic;">I taught the </span>x<span style="font-style: italic;"> half for two years (they sat through the first lesson I ever taught as a professional teacher, and I'm not sure who was more nervous) and inherited the </span>y<span style="font-style: italic;"> half this year.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_8062.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_8062.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>4.PE - Electrotechnical students. <span style="font-style: italic;">I taught the </span>x<span style="font-style: italic;"> half of this class (the one that studies English instead of German) this year. This class once tried to electrocute me</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">for fun</span>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_8067.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_8067.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>4.PM - Management and Accounting students. <span style="font-style: italic;">I taught the </span>m<span style="font-style: italic;"> half of this class for two years and taught the </span>v<span style="font-style: italic;"> half this year.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_8071.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_8071.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>4.PD - Automechanics students. <span style="font-style: italic;">I taught the English-learning half of this class this year. Maybe on average their English was among the lowest in the fourth form, but nobody ever matched these boys for enthusiasm.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114950010055423006?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1148898330877102632006-05-29T12:00:00.000+02:002006-05-29T23:29:08.216+02:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_8016.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_8016.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Like most people I've ever heard of, I've never met my great-great-great grandmother. I'm not very disappointed by this, and I'm sure she would have felt the same way, really. But when I first came to the Czech Republic, my great grandmother (we call her Granny) reminded me that we had relatives from Bohemia---my great grandfather's grandmother came from a small village in what is now central Czech called Velvary.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_8004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_8004.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I remember seeing a picture of her once---when I was building a family tree in the 3rd grade. I only remember her last name---Kerr, which sounds more German than Czech to me, but even now it's not uncommon for Czechs to have German names, and before fifty years ago Bohemia was home to a large German community. Granny tells me that the Kerr family left Velvary and Bohemia to come to the United States to be missionaries. It's an interesting turn of the story that I should return to their home as a Christian-in-another-place just as they left it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7954.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7954.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I have no idea at all where they might have lived or what work they did, but here are some pictures I took this weekend when Chrissy and I went to Velvary for an afternoon.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7991.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7991.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114889833087710263?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1148552336398505582006-05-25T12:14:00.000+02:002006-05-25T12:22:44.120+02:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7880.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7880.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Some lowerclassmen apprenticeship students working hard during ISŠTE maturitas.<br/><br/><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114855233639850558?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1148322214625123592006-05-22T20:23:00.000+02:002006-05-22T20:43:47.070+02:00The Czech language is rich, deep and beautiful in its own right. But just like English, Czech has borrowed lots of words from other languages, one of them being English. So, oftentimes when I ask how to say such-and-such, it turns out the Czech word sounds practically the same. And as untinteresting as it sounds, this has been happening a lot lately. Yep.<br /><br />All this is to say: the Czech word for "photograph" is <span style="font-style: italic;">fotka</span>, the word for "camera" is <span style="font-style: italic;">fotoaparát</span>, and the word for "to take a photograph" is <span style="font-style: italic;">fotografovat</span>.<br /><br />Tak. Tady jsou fotky:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7842.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7842.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Early this month <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/03/on-making-of-knedliky.html">Petr and Jirka</a> challenged me to a bike ride through the mighty hill country that surrounds Sokolov. The way included "only" three large hills and a fair sampling of the tiny villages that pepper the Czech countryside, topping off at a hunter's pub on the shores of a <span style="font-style: italic;">beautiful</span> mountain lake still ringed by patches of snow. Props to Petr, who had no idea why I kept telling him to lean forward.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Hike%20Prestavka.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Hike%20Prestavka.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Ivana, Ivana, Pepa, Eva and myself---the crowd formerly known as the Club Actus Club, also known as the <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas-photo-album-so-far.html">White Elephant crew</a>---here enjoying a little <span style="font-style: italic;">přestávka</span> before continuing our little nature hike.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/CA%20Team%200506.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/CA%20Team%200506.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>This is the administrator team Chrissy and I serve on this year. From the left, that's Beth (another Sokolover!), Aaron (our intrepid Country Director), Mike, me and Chrissy (who is quite lovely, no?). We had a meeting at the end of April outside on Prauge's Petřin Hill. Just being <span style="font-style: italic;">outside </span>after the long winter was delicious.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Attacked%21%20Movie_0001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Attacked%21%20Movie_0001.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Some boys from 4TL (Petr, Vašek and Jirka) take aim during <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/05/reflecting-on-last-bell-ringing.html">last bell ringing</a>. Wet English teacher was the result.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/4PE%27s%20Hello.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/4PE%27s%20Hello.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The crew from 4PE (Shed'a, Sobi, Lukaš, Vlád'a, Pipa, Peši, Mr. M, Bajci and Jindra---and that's me in the mirror) stops by for a visit to my office to say goodbye on last bell ringing day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Me%20and%20Zach%20Starting.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Me%20and%20Zach%20Starting.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And here's Zach (far right) and me right after crossing the starting line at the <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/05/auburns-favorite-son-abroad.html">Prague International Marathon</a> a week or so ago. Check out my little running shorts, sported with an authentic <a href="http://www.vanguard.edu/youthministries/deliveryboys/">Delivery Boys</a> T-shirt.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Superman%20Joel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Superman%20Joel.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And this is me after finishing! I didn't feel nearly as good as I look in this picture.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Oplatky%20Race%20Movie%20001_0001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Oplatky%20Race%20Movie%20001_0001.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>A group of us teachers out in the western part of the Czech---we call ourselves the West Bohemia Social Club---put on a fancy-dress dinner party for whoever wanted to come visit this weekend. Part of the deal was that anybody who came had to come up with a little skit to perform in the middle of the evening. This is the crew from Prague, who, mindful of tasty local treats, threw together an oplatky-eating race. Sam, third from the left, was the decisive (and dry-mouthed) victor.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114832221462512359?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1148300681483995622006-05-22T13:47:00.000+02:002006-05-22T20:35:29.403+02:00So I first wrote this last year for the old blog I use to keep in touch with friends from Vanguard. I opted to post it again for two reasons. One is to tell about "last bell ringing," the ceremony that each graduating class in Czech high schools stages on their last day of classes before they start maturitas---without me having to write about it again. The other is to look back on what was going through my head a year ago at this time.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">May 6, 2005 - 6. května 2005</span></span><span style="font-family:arial;"> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">The first phone call this morning said: "Bring your camera."</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">The second said: "Hurry."</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">Fridays are my light day. I teach one class in the afternoon and my mornings are free. I usually take advantage of this by allowing myself the now lavish luxury of sleeping in until 7:00, 7:30 or---alas!---8:00. Last night was a late night---Brian's been packing for a trip home to Canada for a wedding and leaves today---so I opted for 7:30, needing to prepare for a meeting this morning.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">I was well on my way to hitting school cozy and quiet after the first bell of the day when I the phone calls struck in quick succession. And so my steps came in a quick clip-clip-splash-clip over pavement and through puddles.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">And I was greeted at the gate by 25 wild-eyed boys dressed in bath robes and holding high-caliber squirt guns, who insisted that I pay a toll. Knuckles and wide-eyes went white along the plastic barrels as I paused, thinking what to do. I was the first to shoot.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">...with my camera. Then I paid. Then they posed for another. Then I passed quickly through, lest they change their mind.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">It was all part of last bell ringing, the last official day of normal classes for student preparing for their school-leaving exams. Other groups collected money in umbrellas, passing through the hallways, bowing graciously to teachers, poking a bright camcorder into everyone's face.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">Sentiment runs high. Everbody is happy to celebrate, but good-byes are deeply felt, but nobody's quite sure <i>how</i> to feel. This year, most of my 4^th years and I aren't close, but Brian, who's saying goodbye both to students he's taught for three years as well as to the Czech Republic at the end of this June, is in the thick of it. He's saying goodbye to a whole life.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">And so the end of my first year in the Czech Republic is dawning (<i>sic</i>). I'm working hard not to count the days until my flight home for the summer (as of Wednesday it'll be 50). I'm also trying to pass on the temptation to push relationship growth with friends and students back until next year. The inclination is to coast. The <i>need</i> is to live the next 50 days fully—and fully present.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">The past 8 ½ months, God has brought me (thrashing at times) closer to that place I so joyfully (definitely <i>naively</i>) proclaimed I was looking forward to last summer---where I have to depend on Him more completely than ever. Oh, the view is terrific, but the way is steep and rocky.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">To those of you weak from climbing: come on up higher. It's worth the strain, the bruises—the <i>frontier surgery</i>. "He who promised is faithful."</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">To you established climbers: feel free to drop me a rope.</span></p></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114830068148399562?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1147690032148052042006-05-15T12:20:00.000+02:002006-05-15T19:21:30.506+02:00So a lot has happened to the fair city of Auburn, my hometown in the Sierra Nevada foothills, in the six years since I moved away to go to college. Commerce has boomed, the experiment of a town without Burger Kings went bust, and Placer High School gave in and paved that dust field where everybody parked anyway. And, not least of all, Auburn went and got itself officially titled the <a href="http://www.auburnendurancecapital.com/">Endurance Capital of the World.</a><br /><br />At second glance, perhaps this is not such a flattering title. Without any context, one could reasonably think Auburnites are proud that they have managed to stick it out here for so long. Goodness knows my Placer classmates thought of their 18-ish year terms in "the A-hole" (please pardon their Czech) as something to be endured (although probably half of them have moved back by now to raise their kids---and who knows? maybe I'll soon be among them). But in the big picture, 160-or-so years is hardly a stretch next to every little similar town in the Czech Republic---Sokolov "endured" the Black Plague, for one.<br /><br />But when you take it with all the new murals that have gone up in the past two years, then you know that Auburn means endurance <span style="font-style: italic;">sports</span>. And with that in mind I suppose they have a case. After all, if Mercer, Wisconsin can be <a href="http://www.mercerwi.com/">Loon Capital of the World</a>, then why can't Auburn, with its full, annual slate of world-class long distance races be the head city of those who just won't quit?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/RTEmagicC_PIM-Logo_02.jpg.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/RTEmagicC_PIM-Logo_02.jpg.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I suppose all of this is just a round-about way of annoucing that yesterday I became an international citizen of the town that raised me up when I fulfilled my goal to run in the <a href="http://www.pim.cz/index.php?action=main&lang=en&amp;sessid=83450cff588a7524ae0abae029dbbdcf"> Prague International Marathon</a>. If you've been reading this blog over at least the past two months, then you know that this was a <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/04/beating-back-bertha.html">crazy idea</a> from the beginning, especially to me. Well, it never felt crazier than when I was doing it, and I almost cried for joy when I saw the sign that signaled the last kilometer, but now it's over: 4 hours, 38 minutes from start to finish, 2,443rd place.<br /><br />Today it will take me at least that long to walk to the grocery store around the block.<br /><br />Thank you, family and friends---Beth, Christie and Chrissy, Mom & Dad, Sam &amp; Nick, Zach (who showed his studliness and also finished the race---well done, sir), and everybody who showed up to cheer us on---for helping out, running with, and just being interested. You need to convince <span style="font-style: italic;">yourself </span>that you want to run a marathon, but you can't get to it, let alone do it, without good friends. Thanks, guys.<br /><br />I'll post pictures when I have 'em :-)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114769003214805204?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1147175806380902812006-05-09T10:04:00.000+02:002006-05-09T15:15:12.473+02:00So over here at ISŠTE we're in the thick of maturita season. The written parts happened over the past three weeks, and the practical/mechanical parts start today. But the pudding to be proven starts in exactly 13 days when the oral examinations begin. Ideally speaking, these oral exams are a grand culmination of four years of study, a highwater mark for my students. In actuality, I think it's one of the scariest things I've ever seen, and selfishly I'm grateful <span style="font-style: italic;">I </span>didn't have to take something like maturitas to graduate from high school.<br /><br />Let's have my friend <span style="font-weight: bold;">Jana Napříkladová</span> walk us through <span style="font-weight: bold;">a typical maturita exam:</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Jane.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 198px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Jane.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Ahoj! Jana here, and today is my maturita exam! Please pray to the God for me!<br /><br />For the past year, we have been learning (<span style="font-style: italic;">present perfect continuous</span>) hardly (<span style="font-style: italic;">she means hard</span>) in all our classes, preparing for <span style="font-style: italic;">maturity</span>. Today I must make <span style="font-style: italic;">maturity </span>for Czech language, mathematics, physics and English language. Everybody students must make maturity for Czech language and some foreign language. I chose English, but most of my friends at ISŠTE chose Germany language.<br /><br />I go with Tomáš, Honza and Lenka (<span style="font-style: italic;">from her class</span>) today. Our class teacher and the deputies made us a group together for this day a month ago. We must go with nice clothes, and we make all <span style="font-style: italic;">maturity</span> today.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/HPIM1906.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 313px; height: 235px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/HPIM1906.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>It is half past eight in the morning, and I am not so lucky, so I must be first. First is Czech language, and I am nervous because this is most difficult. The test is for 15 minutes, and we must to have memorized many informations about the Czech literature and many important dates and names and parts of the Czech grammar, which is difficult. We must tell it to our Czech language teacer and to the other judges. I think, that Czech language maturita is most difficult. I hope I will not have 5 (<span style="font-style: italic;">five is the worst grade in the Czech system, sort of like an American "F"---Jana and her classmates hope for a "1")</span>.<br /><br />When I will be finished with this test, after me will be Tomáš, and he will make maturita in Czech language, and then Honza, and then Lenka. When Lenka will be finished, I must make my maturita for mathematics. Then will be Tomáš and Honza and Lenka again for mathematics, and then I must go in once more for physics maturita, and like this again Tomáš, Honza and Lenka after I. I think, that we will be very tired.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/HPIM1909.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 243px; height: 184px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/HPIM1909.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>At the finish I must go in for English language. We have been learning (<span style="font-style: italic;">Ja</span><span style="font-style: italic;">na knows her p.p.c.</span>) many topics in English class this year, for example, United States, Canada, Shakespeare, foods, travelling, and the post office. So, I must first take from hat a number from Mr. Šmejkal, and then I must prepare (<span style="font-style: italic;">for</span>) 15 minutes. (<span style="font-style: italic;">Note: we've studied a list of 25 different topics this year, like Jana mentioned, and each has a matching English grammar point. Jana will only discuss one of these topics with us---the one that matches the number she drew.</span>)<br /><br />When my 15 minutes are "up," I must to go to the table where is Mr. Agee and Mr. Šmejkal, and I must to speak about my topic and English grammar, and too, about transaltion (<span style="font-style: italic;">from English into Czech</span>). Too, when begins my English examination, Tomáš will to enter and take a number from hat from Mr. Šmejkal and he must to prepare when I am making mz (<span style="font-style: italic;">on Czech keyboards, "y" and "z" switch places</span>) English maturita.<br /><br />When Lenka will be finished with her English maturita, we all must go together into the testing room, and all our teachers and the judges and a people from Ministry of Education will tell us our marks and we will be finished with maturitas! I hope I will be lucky!<br /><br />Thank you! Jana :-)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114717580638090281?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1146920806096739522006-05-06T14:46:00.000+02:002006-05-06T15:14:39.580+02:00On the recommendation of a few friends, I've been reading and listening to <a href="http://www.ntwrightpage.com/">N.T. Wright</a> sermons and articles quite a bit these days. It's all pretty fascinating stuff about who Jesus is and was, and what that can mean for us, his present-day followers. This is a quote that particularly grabbed my attention today:<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /> Read the Scriptures on your knees<br /> with your discipline and its problems on your heart.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Come to the Eucharist and see in the breaking of the bread<br /> the broken body of Christ, given for the healing of the world<br /> with your discipline on your heart.<br /><br /> Learn new ways of praying in and with and from the pain,<br /> the weight, the brokenness of the crucial bit of the world where God has placed you,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> and out of that prayer, discover new ways forward,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> ways of peacemaking,<br /> ways of taking the risk of hearing both sides,<br /> and therefore, running of the risk of being shot at by both sides.</span><br /><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;"> Are you or are you not a follower of the crucified Messiah?<br /><br /></span>Currently I would assume this posture as a teacher, but also as a son, a brother, a foreigner and a future husband. And certainly, there is pain at each of these places. God, help me.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114692080609673952?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1146501688077607132006-05-01T17:30:00.000+02:002006-05-02T22:03:18.823+02:00Czechs celebrate Labor Day on May 1st, but except for having fewer barbecues and not imposing a ban on white shoes, it's pretty much the same idea as America's September model, although sort of combined with Valentine's Day in a kiss-your-someone-under-the-cherry-blossoms-today kind of way.<br /><br />English teachers use this rare extended weekend to travel, and I was no exception. So my friend Mike and I embarked on a tour of Czech Cities We Haven't Been To Before, and now I'm proud to say that we could never go back to any other these cities...at least, not under a tour with the same name...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7661.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7661.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Our first stop was Plzeň, known in German as Pilsen, and most widely heard of as the birthplace of the original pilsner beer. Czechs tend to be quite enthusiastic about their beer, and many would agree that it is, in fact, the best in the world, and of their many tasty brews, the stuff they make in this town is held up to be the best. Thus, a trip to the Pilsner Urquell brewery is one of those key cultural experiences that anybody visiting here for an extended time should seek out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7690.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7690.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Our next and longest stop was Telč ("telch"), a small southern Bohemian village adopted as a World Heritage site, mostly (perhaps) for the quaint look of the houses that line the main square. Unfortunately for our hopes of experiencing such quaintness, the cobblestone square is currently being reconstructed, filling most views of the square with piles of rubble.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7788.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7788.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Mike and I, however, decided to make the best of the unsightly site, and after a late dinner set out to build a castle from the stones on piled all over the square. When Telč gives you lemons...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7697.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7697.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>In the meantime, that morning we walked around the city, which really was a postcard factory to be sure, as some of these pictures may show.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7730.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7730.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7708.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7708.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7753.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7753.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>That afternoon we hopped on a train to Jihlava, another jewel in the Czech crown, where we took yet more pictures of other European buildings, toured some catacombs, and watched some kid throwing rocks at anything that would make a noise (thankfully he didn't think of us).<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114650168807760713?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1146040631919891602006-04-26T10:17:00.000+02:002006-04-26T10:39:52.870+02:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/James.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/James.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Well, it's still April, but it's already over. Sort of. Because Spring all but finishes off many students' already semester-worn attention spans and because issues like grades need to be sorted out before maturitas kick off in less than a month, this week I'm giving finals in English class. And, as I realized yesterday as two classes I've taught for two years now walked out the door after handing their copies in, this IS the final---not just their last English test in high school, but my the beginning of my bow out from ISŠTE.<br /><br />Like old sit-coms looking for an elusive boost, I like to fill my tests with cameos from friends and family from home and abroad. This 4th grade final features James Pierce, whose right eye really is red like that. One of James' recent conversations with me provided excellent source material for that curmudgeon of English grammar, the pestilent-but-pedestrian <a href="http://esl.about.com/od/grammarintermediate/a/reported_speech.htm">Reported Speech</a>.<br /><br />Jířina provided the most amusing mis-execution when she reported <span style="font-weight: bold;">James said, "I'm living in Dana Point now."</span> as <span style="font-weight: bold;">James said that he had loved in Dana Point.</span><br /><br />Good night, everybody.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114604063191989160?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1145434169817959182006-04-19T09:54:00.000+02:002006-05-15T17:43:35.326+02:00<span style="font-weight: bold;">Elephants in April</span> – Notes From the Czech Republic<font><br />April 19, 2006 – (19. dubna 2006)<font><font><font><font><font><font> <font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br /><br />Dobrý den! </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div style="font-family: georgia;" id="mb_0"><div style="direction: ltr;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>It's been quite a while since my last eNewsletter update (and for that I do apologize), and there's lots going on as the school has started to wind down. To wit: next week I'm giving eight rounds of final exams to my graduating students, and in three weeks we'll all sit through maturitas—the big, scary graduation tests. For all the other , non-graduating students the school year ends June 30^th—and as almost all of my students this year will graduate, when maturitas wrap up at the end of May, I'll have a month of just six lessons a week. It'll be a hard month. But don't accuse me of laziness just yet—there'll be much to do in that "light" month, and, of course, getting there is an uphill climb.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>NEW ON THE BLOG<br />If this newsletter just doesn't satisfy your thirst for stories about crazy students, new travels, and new thoughts about interacting with Czech culture, be sure to check out these posts on the blog, including... </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>· more about the field trip to <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/04/london.html">London</a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>· a delicious recipe for <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/04/medovnk-and-mushroom-battleships.html">Czech honey cake</a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>·<a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/04/beating-back-bertha.html"> training</a> for the Prague International Marathon</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>· life and teaching at ISŠTE</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br />LONDON<br />This month one of my Czech co-workers and I lead a week-long field trip to London for 15 ISŠTE students and a group of 5 adult students. We boarded a bus (yes, a bus) on Monday afternoon and drove through the night (as well as through Germany, Belgium and France), passed under the English Channel and arrived in London town just in time for the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. Mostly the trip was a lot of walking (about 8 miles per day) and photography (probably 800 per day all together ;-), but it was also a great opportunity for the students to flex their English muscles in the capital city of English itself.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br />BETTER MOUSETRAPS<br />Sometime last fall I taught a lesson on brainstorming to a few groups of graduating students. After lecturing each class on the value of coming up with creative solutions for problem solving, how this skill can benefit them in their future work and studies, and after going through some vocabulary and procedures, we make a practice run, our brainstorming topic being the classic problem of "building a better mousetrap."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>During the brainstorm I sit in the back to watch while student recorders write all kinds of imaginative suggestions from the class on the board, from using tastier (or poisonous!) cheese to training smarter cats. More extreme solutions are usually given as well, like using dynamite or lasers, and somebody almost always mentions flamethrowers (poor mice!).</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>We had spent half of the allotted time in 4TL when I saw Ludék suddenly brighten up and reach into his bag for a dictionary. He flipped a few pages, found his desired word, took a moment to formulate the grammar in his head, then raised his hand. His suggestion: "We should have brave elephants."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>I hesitate to moralize this story into some "don't sweat the small stuff" reminder. I also shy away from spiritualizing the story into some "we are elephants in Christ" sermon. But this story has stuck with me—it made me laugh—as has the irony that a big elephant would be so stymied by a little mouse. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br />NEW CHAPTERS<br />As you may have already received my newest support letter in your mailbox, you probably already know that I've decided to return to the Czech Republic for a third—and very different—year. Chrissy and I, as you also may know, are getting married this August, and after thinking and praying a lot about how to begin our marriage well and how to be faithful servants to the communities God has placed us in this year, we've decided to be a missionary pair in Prague, where Chrissy teaches now.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>Marriage is a huge new chapter in our lives, as is starting a new year in a new city and a new school for me. I'll miss the people that I've met and taught and shared with in Sokolov over the past two years, but I trust that God is the one (and not me) who plants his love in hearts. And I know that he loves these people much more than I can. I hope that you'll join me in praying for these people God loves, and also for the new ESI teacher who will take my place at ISŠTE next year.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br />IF YOU'RE INTERESTED...<br />...in teaching English and following Christ far from home, among many great opportunities you probably have, ESI is still diligently seeking out new candidates to be serve as teachers for both summer-long and year-long programs in China, Morrocco, Central Asia and even the Czech Republic! All programs currently need positions to be filled. So if you're interested or if God has been leading you this way, or even if you just have a hunch, try following this link <a href="http://www.teachoverseas.org/" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">http://www.teachoverseas.org/</a> or email me with any questions you might have.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br />PRAYER REQUESTS<br />When you're talking to Jesus these days and asking him to bless us in the Czech Republic, we'd love you to remember...</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>· ESI recruitment, which has been low in every program this year—for God to send workers to the field! (and soon!)</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>· the close of the school year, especially that we would finish well and faithful</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>· my students, and especially Koudy and Petr, with whom I've shared many conversations about faith and Christ this year</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>· our schools in Sokolov, which will start with a fresh crop of ESIers next year—the first time that there hasn't been a 2^nd or 3^rd (or 4^th!) year teacher returning here in seven years—for a strong transition</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>· our friend Grant, another American who lives here, who asks many questions and whom God is seeking—for significant conversations about Christ</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>· Chrissy and I as we continue to prepare for a wedding and a marriage</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br />Thank you again for your prayers and support this year. Spring has finally broken through the lingering winter gloom, and with it comes a reminder of God's faithfulness through the cold and gray and his way of creating green new life in us. And as we move out of the Easter season, I pray that Christ's love would stick in your mind and that his cross would call to your heart as we think and as we live towards<br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font>Making Him Important,<br />Joel<br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font><font> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114543416981795918?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1145308415734912032006-04-17T21:53:00.000+02:002006-04-18T18:48:06.430+02:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7637.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7637.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>If you're talking about a small rodent that never sleeps, the Czech word for "guinea pig" is <span style="font-style: italic;">morče</span>. But if you're talking about the subject (perhaps the "victim") of some bold experiment, then the Czech word for "guinea pig" is <span style="font-style: italic;">pokusný kralík</span>, or "experimental rabbit" to be precise.<br /><br />Throughout the winter I've been <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/03/on-making-of-knedliky.html">collecting Czech recipes</a> as sort of more portable and tastier souvenirs, and also great ways to get people to cook for you. The catch is that after I jot down the recipes, after a week or two my Czech friends start to ask me how it was making my own copy of, say, Grandma's Goulash. Shrugging and saying "not yet" has grown old. So tonight, in a bold attempt to appease my culinary friends and my hungry friends at the same time, I invited Beth, Christie and Grant over to be experimental rabbits for a Czech feast.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7643.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7643.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>It was certainly a cross-cultural adventure to decipher recipes in another language (if you think about it, recipes in English are written in their own special form different from the way we normally write---so are Czech recipes) and my translating and remembering failed me more than once, but I think the <span style="font-style: italic;">vepřove guláš </span>with <span style="font-style: italic;">knedliky </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">medovník </span>for dessert came out pretty tasty.<br /><br />Of interesting note: when placed in boiling water, small bits of bread dumpling dough quickly double in size until they resemble brains or angry swimming mushrooms. Huh.<br /><br />Here's the recipe for <span style="font-style: italic;">medovník</span>, mostly translated except for a few ingredients listed in grams. Oh well---if you're up for making this, you're up for doing a little math ;-)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7638.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7638.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><i style=""><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cream</span><o:p></o:p></i> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><o:p></o:p></i>250 g butter<o:p></o:p><br />150 g sugar<o:p></o:p><br />½ cup powdered sugar<o:p></o:p><br />1 cup milk<o:p></o:p><br />50 g all-purpose flour<o:p></o:p><br />1 cup whipped cream<i style=""><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><o:p></o:p>Combine butter, sugars and milk in pot. Bring mixture to a boil (be careful not to burn the milk), then remove from stove. Stir in flour and let mixture cool. When cool, add whipped cream, then let the cream cool and set-up in the refrigerator overnight.</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dough</span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*100 g sugar<o:p></o:p><br />*2 tbsp. warm honey<o:p></o:p><br />*2 tbsp. butter or shortening<o:p></o:p><br />*3 tbsp. milk<o:p></o:p><br />*1 large egg<o:p></o:p><br />*1 tsp. baking soda<o:p></o:p><br />*300 g all-purpose flour<o:p></o:p><br /><span style=""> </span>*Double ingredients to make all four cakes<i style=""><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><o:p></o:p>Mix sugar, honey, butter, milk in a large mixing bowl. Beat in egg, and mix together until mixture is uniform. Add baking soda and stir in flour. Stir and knead dough until mixture is smooth. Place a sheet of baking paper on a cookie sheet. Spread dough thinly and evenly over baking paper. Bake for 10 minutes at 350 degrees. Remove from oven and cut cake into two equal pieces. Remove from baking paper and let cool. Repeat this process to make the third and fourth cakes.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">On a flat tray, first put one cake and spread on a layer of cream. Continue layering up cakes and cream, and top the stack with a layer of cream. Garnish with cocoa powder. Allow at least four hours for cakes to soak in the cream before serving.<br /></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Dobrou chut'!<br /><i style=""><o:p></o:p></i></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114530841573491203?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1144842103830270572006-04-12T13:40:00.000+02:002006-04-16T00:54:13.920+02:00<br><br><br><span style="font-style: italic;">"I'm sorry, I don't know what it is: 'my homie.' "</span><br /><br /> - Ondřej from 1PZ<br><br /><br><br /><br><br /><br><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114484210383027057?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1144525166787620492006-04-08T19:15:00.001+02:002006-04-09T17:07:03.070+02:00<p class="MsoNormal">When George suggested that we try the place across the street my heart sank a little bit. We'd taken to the <st1:place st="on">Soho</st1:place> streets in search of an authentic English pub, for atmosphere and perhaps some flavour of biscuits, chips or crisps. But looking into several pubs along the narrow streets that were all too full or too loud we were giving up. The nail went into the coffin when we read the notice that patrons who looked under 18 would be asked to show identification, a normal thing for my American self, but something one doesn't have to consider in the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Czech</st1:PlaceName> <st1:placetype st="on">Republic</st1:PlaceType></st1:place>. So, with Adam in tow, a pub was out of the question.<br /><br />Across the street looked like a poor compromise to me, not a little bit dingy, the most impressive feature of the front window being a low price. But I was hungry and not about to spoil this one flash of decisiveness in a group of the indecisive. At least dinner wasn't going to be a premade sandwich from Tesco. Again.<br /><br />But walking in my doubts were silenced as I saw the twin buffets stocked with deep fried Western-style Chinese food---everything from the egg drop soup to the kung pao chicken wings to the fried rice to the self service bowl of sweet-and-sour sauce. It was <st1:city st="on">London</st1:City>, but it was also Lucky Dragon in <st1:city st="on">Auburn</st1:City>, Genghis Khan in Citrus Heights, Chinese Fast Food in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Costa Mesa</st1:place></st1:City>. I warned my dining companions that I would be making several rounds to the buffet that night and encouraged them to do the same.<br /><br />And, greased by the wanton and fried egg rolls, the meal went quite well from then on. George made friends with two women at the next table, a mother and daughter pair refueling after a birthday shopping trip, and Adam challenged his English skills, asking me to speak as quickly as I could. He did much better than I did, truth be told, and any failure to understand probably should fall on me; though my speech was quick in delivery, it was dull and disjointed in content. Not all of us have the vocal sprinting skills of the <a href="http://www.retrojunk.com/details_commercial/25/">guy</a> who used to do the <a href="http://m2museum.com/Categories.htm">Micro Machines</a> commercials.<br /><br />George introduced himself---Jíři Šmejkal---to his new friends as they got up to leave, and of course they didn't understand him (it was hard to hear, too). So he went by George, George Šmejkal, to which they replied, "It's been nice talking with you, George Michael." Jíři was George Michael for the rest of the trip.<br /><br />On the way back through Soho to our hostel we met a <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">London</st1:place></st1:City> woman looking for the nearest Tube station. She was a bit emabarassed to ask for directions in her home city, and more so when we confessed to being tourists. But then she asked where we were from.<br /><br />"The <st1:placename st="on">Czech</st1:PlaceName> <st1:placetype st="on">Republic</st1:PlaceType>," I replied, to which my Czech friends commented that actually, I was from <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">California</st1:place></st1:State>.<br /><br />"Really?" she continued. She told us that she was an actress and had just played the part of a Czech in her last project. "I had to speak with a Czech accent," she said.<br /><br />Intrigued, admittedly excited, and a bit mischeviously wanting to pull a "Czech accent" out of her, I replied to her in Czech: "Is that right?"<br /><br />The look of shock on her face revealed my lapse in better judgment. Though my Czech companions were unphased, she was taken aback, as the Czech phrase for <a href="http://www.radio.cz/en/article/53530">"Really?"</a> can sound quite like a rather strong insult in English. I quickly and abashedly apologized and explained what I had meant, but the damage had been done. I had inadvertantly forced a common English-speaker in the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Czech</st1:PlaceName> <st1:placetype st="on">Republic</st1:PlaceType></st1:place> culture shock experience upon her.<br /><br />"I'm an idiot," I confessed to my friends as we walked away, but they grinned and told me it wasn't so bad. But my face still burned redder-ly with each step, either from the spicy chicken or from dropping the F-bomb on an innocent actress, but it was probably a combination of both.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114452516678762049?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1144525598847298012006-04-08T19:15:00.000+02:002006-04-09T09:42:21.226+02:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Big%20Ben%20Again.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/400/Big%20Ben%20Again.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>So this past week myself, my colleague George and a mix of ISŠTE students and their relatives all boarded a bus that could reasonably be called an airplane without wings and "flew" to London for three days of site-seeing, museum-going and (dare I say) history-making in one of Europe's greatest cities. This blog is a miniature slideshow of our trip.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/DBS%20and%20Petr.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/400/DBS%20and%20Petr.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Central London upheld its reputation as an international city. On the whole, I heard a lot more Czech---and German, French, Italian, Spanish, etc.---spoken in London than I did English. In a lot of ways for me, visiting London this week was more of an experience in the traveling habits of Czechs than it was an encounter with British culture. For example, this week I learned that wherever Czechs go, they take a lot of meat with them. Up there on the right, Petr from 1PM opened no less than three cans of meat paste to snack on each day, and David...well...David and his five-inch salami slicer got us held up at customs in France for about 45 minutes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Our%20Bus%20in%20the%20Chunnel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Our%20Bus%20in%20the%20Chunnel.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The first time I read about it was in our 2nd grade edition of <span style="font-style: italic;">Weekly Reader</span> magazine, just before the two digging teams were set to meet in the middle under the English Channel, and this week, after riding halfway across Europe to get there, I had my first trip through the Channel Tunnel or the "Chunnel" as the abbreivating set calls it. To prevent traffic problems in the 31 mile tunnel, trucks, cars and buses all drive onto trains that shuttle them across. Pictured above are three people I don't know, but that's our double-decker cruising bus inside the train during the crossing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/St.%20Paul%27s%20with%20Millenium%20Bridge%20Pan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/400/St.%20Paul%27s%20with%20Millenium%20Bridge%20Pan.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Our first full day in London we probably walked the fish right out of our chips. And if you'll forgive me for that <span style="font-style: italic;">weird</span> sentence, here's what we saw: the Underground, the Royal Observatory and the Prime Meridian, the National Maritime Museum, the <span style="font-style: italic;">Cutty Sark</span>, the Tower of London (just the outside, no crown jewels or beheadings for us), the Tower Bridge, the south bank of the Thames, the Globe Theatre, St. Paul's Cathedral (that's it in the picture above), Buckingham Palace and all around parks and sidestreets along the way.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7575.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/400/IMG_7575.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Taking a picture of everything worth photographing in Central London would be like forcing peanut butter into each nook and cranny of a toasted English muffin. Which would be a good job for you. Make me one too. This is William Shakespeare, peering out of a pub in his own name.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Shadow%20Play%20with%203TL.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Shadow%20Play%20with%203TL.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>This year I teach mostly 4th year students who are now in their last month preparing for their leaving exams, so this trip was a great chance for me to get to know some younger students. I spent most of Thursday with these five guys from 2TL and 3TL, all of whom were willing to go along with a few of my stupid little ideas, such as making a face on the lawn out of our shadows. Adam wants everyone to know that in this photo he is the left eye.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7549.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/400/IMG_7549.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Among the good things London has to offer is lots of free museums. And I think we must have gone to at least all of them. But as much as I was dreading mutiny from a group of (1) mostly teenage boys who (2) don't speak English (to varying degrees), in general everyone enjoyed the museums much more than anybody expected. George certainly enjoyed the science museum---although my studly Czech friend didn't need the prop.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Tower%20Bridge%20Pan.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/400/Tower%20Bridge%20Pan.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And in the end, even though there were lots of moments that made me think---"This would never fly on a field trip in the States"---the whole trip went off without any significant problems, a huge answer to prayer, and there were plenty really great moments with some really great young people, another answer to prayer.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114452559884729801?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1143997624520461112006-04-02T18:08:00.000+02:002006-04-02T19:07:04.543+02:00I remember it was called Big Bertha. It was a run all the way around the perimeter of the school, down the bus exit way to the back of the laundromat, up the hill and turn the corner at the tax place, along the back gardens of the public library, through the isolated upper campus for the 6th graders, and back around to the blacktop where our P.E. numbers were printed in ten-by-three blocks. It was the lurking terror of my junior high days at E.V. Cain Middle School, though I never ran it once. The stigma and the legend was enough.<br /><br />Half Bertha was another matter. Everyday after our warm-up drills on the blacktop Mrs. Hein would blow into her whsitle and thirty of us at a time would take off over the grass, the ugly ducklings of P.E. like myself gritting our teeth and huffing already for it to be over. It was shorter than its big sister---less than half, I'd say---but I hated it all the same, and looked forward to the day when running would no longer pull air from my lungs and sweat from my forehead.<br /><br />When high school started I signed up for marching band, one of the top three reasons being: four years of band and you didn't have to take P.E. You didn't have to buy the sweats. You didn't have to play soccer. And every Monday morning, you didn't have to run the mile.<br /><br />How I have betrayed my younger self.<br /><br />This year, with the encouragement of some of my overseas teammates and with a strange notion that ugly ducklings can run marathons, I've taken up running as a hobby. It started off modestly enough. After moving back in to the apartment in Sokolov, some people started talking about a 10 kilometer race in Prague only three weeks away. I wasn't up for 26 miles, but six---I could probably do that.<br /><br />Three weeks later my friend Mike and I were plodding down the streets of Prague, alternately marveling at this boldness, this unlikelihood, and this---as we really got farther in---stupidity. But we finished and were hooked. I bought real running shoes a month later, and have gone on offending my inner child ever since.<br /><br />This Saturday in Prague some friends and I ran a Half Marathon, 13 miles. It was a big first for most of us, but we all made it and were even able to walk after it was all over. I finished in 1,765th place with a time start-to-finish of 1 hour, 57 and a half minutes.<br /><br />Big Bertha is next month. My goal is just to finish. But I still don't believe it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7330.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7330.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Chrissy and some friends of ours were there at kilometer 19 (of 21) to cheer us on. This picture is certifiably cute, and might make my mom cry.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_7332.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_7332.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Here's me, Nick, Sam, Katie and two of Katie's Czech friends after the finish line. </span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114399762452046111?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1143792254004214282006-03-31T09:45:00.000+02:002006-03-31T10:04:14.036+02:00Friday, the fast approach of finals, and lots of absenses conspired together to derail my lesson plan with a group of seniors today in favor of some good, meaningful conversation about their plans for the future. That these girls are part of one of my favorite classes also helped. I am thankful for this hour.<br /><br />Just after the bell rang to start the hour, I noticed some grafitti on the bottom of a chair put up for the cleaning woman which described yours truly in rather vivid (if uninspired) English. The girls noticed that I was reading the bottom of the chairs and half-stood up to get a look for themselves. Mila, the one guy present, translated the seat to those who couldn't see (although none of my students would need translation for <span style="font-style: italic;">these </span>English words). I laughed about it, and Monika, sitting next to the offending chair, took out a black pen and carefully blacked out my name (although interestingly, not the epithet :).<br /><br />They were two very different things to experience in one hour, but I'll take both as a sign that teaching here I must be doing something right.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114379225400421428?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1143551148058054002006-03-28T14:09:00.000+02:002006-03-28T22:33:12.800+02:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Boney%20Cross.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Boney%20Cross.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>So this weekend I had a chance to rest my bones, so to speak. The ESI administration team for the Czech Republic enjoyed a short retreat to Kutná Hora, a small Czech town on UNESCO's <a href="http://whc.unesco.org/en/statesparties/cz">World Heritage list</a>. The main reason for its inclusion on the list is St. Barbora's, a quirky little gothic cathedral, but far more interesting to the cathedral-weary European tourist is the All Saint's Chapel---a little church decorated entirely with human bones.<br /><br />I crossed the short nave vigilant for pirates (or Mickey Mouse), but, arriving safely to the back of the church found a literal foot of the altar and an authentic coat of arms.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Boney%20Sanctuary.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Boney%20Sanctuary.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><code>So while the ossuary---there, we even have an English word for it---falls short of chilling one to one's own bones (although admittedly, we went during the day and were surrounded by a score of other camera-wielding tourists like ourselves), it certainly comes across as weird and more than a little bit morbid. But I must salute whoever it was who had the guts to do this.<br /><br /></code><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Boney%20Encounter.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Boney%20Encounter.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><code><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" ></span></code><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114355114805805400?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1142926248206910292006-03-21T08:09:00.000+01:002006-03-28T15:34:57.746+02:00I wonder if I could clear customs smuggling in a bag of flour. Would I pass through, like the innocent baker I purported myself to be? Or would I miss my connecting flight, held in the tank while some airport canine sniffed the white powder in my luggage, seeking out a whiff of illicit cocaine?<br /><br />Because as far as I've heard, nowhere in the United States can you find <span style="font-style: italic;">hruba </span><span style="font-style: italic;">mouka</span>, the extra-smooth flour you need to make <span style="font-style: italic;">houskové knedliky, </span>the staple bread dumplings you'll find all over Czech cuisine, swimming in and soaking up one of any number of delicious sauces your <span style="font-style: italic;">babička </span>ladles onto your plate. <span style="font-style: italic;">Vyborný.</span> I've even heard of Czech restaurants in the states sending for bags of the precious stuff from family members back home, just to serve an authentic <span style="font-style: italic;">vepřo-knedlo-zelo</span>. And after witnessing the ritual that happens daily in kitchens all over Bohemia, Moravia and Silesia, I can see why.<br /><br />Two new additions to my Sokolov family this year have been Petr and Jirka, whom you may also know as the guys who brought me into the world of <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/02/in-club.html">speedos</a> and <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/02/catching-up.html">cross-country skiing</a> (thankfully, in separate ocassions). Since our first meeting in November, these two have been some of my most aggressive friends, always eager to set up the next meeting. We're at about once a week now---and never something regular, like every Monday night, but always a different day, always a different activity. And one thing Jirka's wanted to do since we first went bowling is teach me to make <span style="font-style: italic;">knedliky</span>. Last night was the night.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><font>Although my Czech friends might disagree, I found the process to be quite complicated, certainly more than any bread that I've ever thrown into an oven or a bread machine of mine. But Jirka was thrilled to have such an eager audience. His summer fishing buddies' interest extends mostly to eating, and he and Petr had just gone over cooking and kitchen vocabulary in their English class. He even let me in on his own special <span style="font-style: italic;">gulaš</span> recipe, the stew that would float the dumplings he was slicing delicately, with a thread.<br /><br />The results soon had me teaching a well-spoken proverb---sometimes our eyes are bigger than our stomachs---and sure enough my eyes were widest at the table. Jirka just laughed. I have yet to try out the recipes on my own, but if I can get a handle on it, be prepared to bail me out of some airport lock-in come July. I'll be packing.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114292624820691029?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1142633776604300862006-03-17T23:15:00.000+01:002006-03-17T23:19:33.136+01:00<br/><br /><br/><br /><br/><br />the air is water<br />the horizon is glass<br />and i am the carrot-nosed man<br/><br /><br/><br /><br/><br /><br/><br /><br/><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114263377660430086?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1142325834773567612006-03-14T08:44:00.000+01:002006-03-14T10:32:05.230+01:00So once again Tuesday, 1st hour finds me listening to some history lesson blasting from the other side of the side door of my office.<br /><br />I don't know what the test will be like, but if it's a measure of what pani učitelka (Miss Teacher) is actually saying, it will look something like this:<br /><br />1. When did World War I begin?<br /> a. Gentlemen!<br /> b. For the love of Petr, shut up.<br /> c. Hey! Listen up!<br /><br />2. Explain the role T.G. Masaryk played in the formation of the first Czecho-Slovak Republic.<br /> a. He sat down in his desk and paid attention (for once)<br /> b. Masaryk opened his book and took notes<br /> c. Shhhh!<br /><br />3. What is the appropriate volume for a lecture?<br /> a. <span style="font-style:italic;">The Young Czech Party</span><br /> b. The Young Czech Party<br /> c. <span style="font-style:italic;">PANOVE!</span><br /><br />In other news, today I told my Head English Teacher, Frank, that I most probably won't be returning to ISŠTE next year. I had been dreading and putting this off, but actually, like Frank usually is, he smiled and expressed his understanding. Sokolov will be full of fresh faces next year, the first time ESI won't send a returning teacher here in at least seven years.<br /><br />Seven years is a long chain, to be sure. But faith would say that even this doesn't break the chain.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114232583477356761?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1142185162730037302006-03-12T18:34:00.000+01:002006-03-12T18:39:22.766+01:00So there's a lot that I miss by living in another hemisphere.<br /><br />I found out yesterday that my grandpa, my dad's last parent, passed away after a long struggle with Parkinson's. The nurse, who was there in the last moments, said it was the most peaceful death he had ever witnessed.<br /><br />The funeral is this Friday, and I won't be in attendence. No one's been better about it than my dad. Please remember my family when you're talking to Jesus about stuff sometime soon.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114218516273003730?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1141722306721003072006-03-07T09:47:00.000+01:002006-03-07T10:05:06.743+01:00It started with Tymon, and it didn't involve farting. How often can you say that?<br /><br />But since the first week of last November, in a breath-taking wave of love, my friends from back home have all been getting engaged. Tymon and Ashley, both of the Kimballs---Brian to Emily and Colleen to Michael, Nancy and Elliot (getting married in less than a month!), Ben and Nina, Lydia with Lance, Jeremy with Daleena, and most recently, Kyle and Collette. Add on Chrissy and I, and the list is quite impressive.<br /><br />Chrissy and I have a way of making things impressive ;)<br /><br />And those are the ones that I know about (or at least can think of right now). That's a lot of weddings. I hope I can go.<br /><br />I love you guys. Congratulations.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114172230672100307?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1141247454935544502006-03-01T22:00:00.000+01:002006-03-01T22:10:54.966+01:00So maybe it's true everywhere, but in Sokolov, making lasagna is an act of faith. I've never made lasagna in the Czech Republic. Until about four months ago, I didn't really have an oven for it. Three months ago I didn't have pans. And ever since, I've either lacked time or inclination. And Delvita, one of the local supermarkets, has been keeping lasagna noodles on the shelves.<br /><br />So today it all came together.<br /><br />And though the noodles stuck together, and though the Czech oven still had three burnt chocolate chip cookies in it from the last cooking adventure, and though I thought the crock pot was going to burn down the whole apartment, tonight we had lasagna for dinner.<br /><br />And it tasted like home, which is more than I asked for. Usually, with substituted ingredients and indecipherable labels, "tastes good" is enough.<br /><br />And there's plenty more in the fridge.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114124745493554450?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1140720149021701892006-02-23T19:12:00.000+01:002006-02-23T19:42:29.186+01:00It took 16 months, not including summer, but finally this afternoon I made a significant step in the journey to be more of a European. And after all the wait, it was a snap, really. Heh heh.<br /><br />Today, about 10 American dollars purhased my membership into the not-exclusive-by-any-stretch club of Speedos Owners and Wearers. And the fun only started after the swim shop lady and I swapped paper for spandex.<br /><br />Actually, going to the pool (indoor, of course) proved to be much more of a cultural experience than you might think, and actually felt much more like a luxury than any swim I've ever done in America. And the speedo, although tight, was not too small like the shop lady thought it would be (fortunately there was no real...measuring).<br /><br />But even a speedo that's too small is better than one that's too big. I'll leave you with that.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114072014902170189?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1140551715244886182006-02-21T20:54:00.000+01:002006-02-21T21:07:17.513+01:00Why a California boy would ever throw himself into the mouth of a Central European winter is beyond me. And yet, here I am, and for a second round of it, no less. In Sokolov people like to talk about the weather, too, whether it's just for small talk or to but this time of year, usually just to complain. Count me in, I guess.<br /><br />But last year was my first, true winter, and this California boy, for all his cold hands and chapped lips, found ways to appreciate it. And the best reason: spring. I've found that I never really appreciated the full force of joy of spring until I went through the cold and death of winter only to feel the warmth of the sun again and the green of the trees and a return of LIFE.<br /><br />Midwesterners: hide your smirks. I'm a California boy after all, and there's a first time for everything, right?<br /><br />Though it breaks any standard definition of "spring" that I've ever heard, last week was Spring Break for students and teachers in Sokolov and some parts of Prague. Fortunately, this meant that Chrissy and I shared the same holiday week! Nobody complains when bureaucracy goes their way, huh?<br /><br />So we decided to pass the week out in Ostrava, visiting our friends and fellow English teachers, Darina, Emily, Laura and Kevin. Ostrava is way out in the eastern corner of the country and doesn't tend to attract a lot of visitors, but recently a flood of ESIers has decended upon this industrial paradise, and we were happy to keep up the trend.<br /><br />The week wasn't all that eventful in the "good story" sense, but that never stops a faithful (merciless?) blogger. Here's some photos to make up for the words:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/SomeStuff0077.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/SomeStuff0077.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Two Fridays ago was ISŠTE's second <span style="font-style: italic;">maturitní ples</span>, my fourth this year. This is a picture of me with the Švarcovi (the Švarc family, that is)---Jirka, Jirka and Mirka. This was a fun meeting in that I teach the whole family English: Big Jirka and Mirka attend my one business class, and Jirka Jr. is graduating from ISŠTE this year.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/SomeStuff0085.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/SomeStuff0085.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Last Tuesday was Valentine's Day, a holiday new to the Czech Republic since the revolution 17 years ago. Without the perspective of centuries of paper hearts and conversation hearts to ground them, some of my Czech friends think it's just (in the words of Lucy Van Pelt) "some commercial racket, run by a big Eastern syndicate, you know." Among the romantic things Chrissy and I accomplished this year, we wore matching red T-shirts given to us by one of my adult classes. And though I made many silly faces, it was not to distract from the fact that we were wearing matching red T-shirts.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Snowstrava0006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Snowstrava0006.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unfortunately, Chrissy was feeling <a href="http://czechdream.blogspot.com/2006/02/hard-to-swallow.html">a bit under the weather</a> last week and we had to visit the doctor---an adventure in itself, which she will hopefully <a href="http://www.chrissyinpraha.blogspot.com/">blog</a> about. Needless to say, the experience was a bit frustrating, which explains why Chrissy chooses to pull a Godzilla to the clinic below in this shot taken from the top of Ostrava's city hall tower.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/DSCN8754.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/DSCN8754.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Just before leaving Ostrava we decided it would be a good idea to build a snowman. But although it was lots of fun, perhaps it wasn't a good idea after all, as digging around in the snow soon showed us that that particular spot has been frequented between fresh layers of snow by dogs who get their fiber. Photo by Laura, who luckily didn't discover any of the evidence herself.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114055171524488618?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1140550879579519362006-02-21T19:58:00.000+01:002006-02-21T21:01:24.123+01:00Unfortunately, Chrissy was feeling a bit under the weather last week and we had to visit the doctor---an adventure in itself, which she will hopefully blog about. We listened hard to the pharmacist as she was giving us directions for the perscriptions; we didn't understand her words, but her tone of voice said "This is important." The one word I singled out as critical we looked up later to be <span style="font-style: italic;">vypláchnout</span>, "rinse." Confused and not knowing any better, this is us following her instructions:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/SomeStuff0095.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/SomeStuff0095.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>As it turns out, <span style="font-style: italic;">vypláchnout</span> more precisely means "rinse out the inside." So it turns out Chrissy was supposed to use this green stuff as mouth wash and not cough syrup. No wonder it went down so nasty, huh sweetie?<br /><br />Yeah, and my Czech friends got a big kick out of the picture, too.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-114055087957951936?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1139409690846395592006-02-08T14:39:00.000+01:002006-02-21T19:58:52.513+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/HPIM2748.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/HPIM2748.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>So I've been away from the blogging world for quite a while now. This is mostly because my great friend and former teammate Brian (the Canadian I lived with last year) has been in Sokolov for an extended visit---partly to attend ISŠTE's <span style="font-style: italic;">maturitní plesi </span>(sort of like prom: stay tuned), partly to reconnect with old friends and students, and partly to keep me company out here all by my lonesome. It's been pretty great having him here. Let the world know. Above is a picture of us in front of the Park Hotel Sokolov's inside-outside-inside waterslide, finished this summer.<br /><br />So a lot has been happening since mid-January:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/4PD%20Watching2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/4PD%20Watching2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The first semester officially came to an end. The second is well underway and the "new start" season is passing into the old routine once again. So with the coming of February, year two in the Czech Republic is just beyond half-finished, and thoughts are already going towards a third year, this time: married. This is a picture of 4PD, gathered around my computer to watch the final product of the newscast project they worked on together appropriately called "The 4PD News."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/BW%20Me%20n%20BMK.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/BW%20Me%20n%20BMK.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I've been to three student graduation dances (<span style="font-style: italic;">plesi</span>) so far, with at least two more to go. I'll post more about ples soon, but here's one of Brian and I suited up for the big dance.<br /><br />Wedding plans are picking up! If a wedding is, in fact, a cake, then Chrissy and I are just about finished with making the batter, and soon we'll put all of the plans into the oven and let them cook.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Me%20and%20Petr.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Me%20and%20Petr.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I've also started dabbling in another favorite pastime for Czechs: cross-country skiing, or "running skiing" as they call it. This is me with my friend Petr, who had the skiis, the know-how, and the car that made it all come together.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/TODAY0080.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/TODAY0080.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Last week, my friend Mike and I stole the worm from that smug early bird, taking to the empty streets of historical Prague at 5:30am for a photo excursion of two of the most touristy (and rightly so) sites in the city, the Charles Bridge and Old Town Square. Our early-to-rise strategy paid off, and we had the sites completely to ourselves for long stretches of time. Wow. If Mike were Chrissy and it hadn't been well below freezing and 6am, it could have been plain romantic.<br /><br />I spent all of Monday downloading Super Bowl commercials which later became part of a Tuesday morning lesson on one of America's most important holidays. For next year, I'm thinking of improving this lesson and doing it before the Super Bowl, in case some students would be interested in watching it (probably on tape, I guess, as the Big Game itself kicked off around midnight Czech time).<br /><br />Spring Break is next week! Can you believe it? Spring Break in the middle of winter. So it goes. I'll be the last to complain.<br /><br />One of my students has started giving me death metal music to listen to and talk about. It's been...interesting...but this guy is way into this music, and some of the conversations that have come out of it have been pretty good stuff. So if any of you know anything about metal music, send me your thoughts, eh?<br /><br />So there's some broad strokes. Hopefully I'll get to some finer details soon.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113940969084639559?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1137743745722457792006-01-20T08:04:00.000+01:002006-01-26T15:14:50.100+01:00Except for his sweeping Slavic moustache that looks like a dry snowplow from the driver's side windshield, I don't think I ever would have noticed Ladislav if he hadn't stopped the bus just for me one Sunday.<br /><br />I was late leaving for church and would have had to run all the way down the hill---15 minutes at runner's pace---without ice---when I saw the bus turn the corner and head towards the bus stop across the street from my apartment building. I changed course, swerving across the street towards the bus stop, pushing hard to make it in time. I was thirty meters off when I heard a honk behind me, accompanied by a bus rolling in close to the curb, stopping short of its prescribed stop with thirty meters still to go.<br /><br />I smiled, mumbled a sincere "Děkuju", paid my fare and found a seat. The snowplow moustache hid any reaction, as though this were nothing unusual. I've run for buses that have left me behind with only a few more steps to go.<br /><br />All kinds of people talk to Ladislav on the bus. And not just Czechs, but the Vietnamese people and the Gypsies, too. And they smile and speak loudly as they get on and off the bus and sometimes they linger by his window and talk as he drives. I watched a whole Roma family board his bus once and even the littlest one spoke something to the bus driver.<br /><br />I don't really know if his name is Ladislav, but I do know that people react to him in a different way. Is he just a bus driver? What do I know.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113774374572245779?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1136915060087233562006-01-10T18:35:00.000+01:002006-01-10T18:47:49.356+01:00So we got the news yesterday. We have a place for the wedding. Sit tight, loyal readers, for this is Official:<br /><br />Chrissy and Joel will be married on <span style="font-weight: bold;">Saturday, August 5th</span> in <span style="font-weight: bold;">Costa Mesa, California. </span>And to stop the rumor before it spreads, Needham Chapel does not figure into those plans. Yet.<br /><br />Now all we have left is everything else. Tak.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113691506008723356?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1136723730401071682006-01-08T12:35:00.000+01:002006-01-08T13:35:30.446+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Sunset%20Church2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Sunset%20Church2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />It's not often that I understand much of what goes on at church here in the Czech Republic. After attending the Czech Brethren Church in Sokolov for a year and a half now I have a pretty good grasp on the order of the service---when to stand up, when to sit down, when we're going to pray, when we're going to sing. I even can figure my way through some of the announcements. But as for the preaching, the praying, most of the singing and almost all of the interaction with members of the congregation, I'm mostly in the dark.<br /><br />Those parts of the sermons that I do understand usually are not particularly edifying. Like today, the pastor was talking about television and I can tell you for sure that he mentioned TV stars and a sports program. A few weeks ago there was some mention about Christmas shopping, and sometime before that there was something about World War III. For all I know he could have been predicting its coming, but he's a pretty even-headed guy, so I doubt it.<br /><br />Once I understood the first three sentences completely. He was talking about Paul writing to the Romans, and I was so shocked and delighted that I was tracking that I sat straight up and leaned forward, probably with a frightening look of concentration on my face. But after that it was just another stream of sounds that meant little to my foreign ears. It's a bit like fishing without a hook, really. Sometimes you get a bite, and you tug to hold on, and you pray that that fish just doesn't let go, too.<br /><br />I had to give up my need to understand what was going on in church here a long time ago. I had to give up a lot of things I thought were pretty essential to a church-going experience. Like this business of "getting fed," for one thing. I think looking at how much good preaching, good music, good training and good time spent with other followers probably isn't the first thing we should be thinking about. A church full of people can't really give us what we're looking for, anyway.<br /><br />All the same, God gives us milk and meat when we put ourselves in front of him, ready to recieve, humbly. And this morning was one of those Sundays when something in church sprang out and lit my eyes. "Brothers, think of what you were when you were called," read the pastor's son this morning from 1 Corinthians chapter one. "Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth."<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things---and the things that are not---to nullify the things that are, so that no one can boast before him. It is because of Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God---that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore as it is written: "Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord."<br /><br /></span>For once then, something. Like the pastor told me after the service (his English and my lowly Czech), fear isn't in the hands or the feet, but only in the head. But Christ himself is our head. We are weak and fearful, but God is perfect and enough. We would do well to brag about that. If only to ourselves.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113672373040107168?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1136410758298143522006-01-04T22:19:00.000+01:002006-01-04T22:50:40.743+01:00<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><i style=""><span style="" lang="CS"><br />Št´astný Nový Rok</span></i><i style=""><span style="">!<o:p></o:p></span></i><br /><b style=""><span style=""><br /></span></b><span style="font-weight: bold;">ABOUT CHRISTMAS<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;">Read some December posts on this weblog for stories and pictures from the holidays in and around Sokolov!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><b style=""><span style="">IN CASE YOU DIDN’T KNOW...</span></b><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">...my girlfriend of more than two years, Chrissy Reid, who’s teaching with ESI for her first year, and I got engaged December 2^nd in Prague (again, see the weblog for details). We’ve started to talk about wedding plans, and hope to be married in early August in <st1:place st="on">Southern California</st1:place>.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">...Chrissy and I, along with five other ESIers had ourselves a little Roman Holiday during Christmas vacation. We spent three days in this beautiful city overfull with more history than anybody can really keep track of. Among our wanderings we found our way into the <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Vatican</st1:country-region></st1:place> (St. Peter’s Basilica and the Sistine Chapel), out to the Colossuem and the old Forum, and into several tasty Italian restaurants.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">...you can see pictures of the proposal and our trip to <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Rome</st1:city></st1:place> on this page and on <a href="http://community.webshots.com/user/aguaviva312">Webshots</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><b style=""><span style="">A NEW YEAR IN SOKOLOV<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">Well, the holidays are over, and as of today I’m kind of relieved. The holidays were great this year—with lots of time spent celebrating with students, friends and colleagues in Sokolov and fellow ESIers, too, but it’s good for life to settle back to normal, too. For one thing, it means that nobody will be giving me little boxes of Christmas cookies anymore (no joke, I must have received a dozen or so boxes filled with hundreds of festive little cookies baked by everybody’s Czech grandmother—I really didn’t eat anything else for two weeks). It also means that the Czech Christmas carols that get rooted it my brain won’t be playing in the grocery store anymore. And more importantly, it means that the threat of being wounded or deafened in the annual New Year’s Eve vigilante-style, free-for-all fireworks party has passed (or at least been somewhat diminished).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">And it also means that school is starting again. It’s the middle of a snowy winter and everybody resents ending a vacation—I’m gonna have some unwilling students to pull back into shape, to put it lightly—but I’m grateful for the new start.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">And it’s more than just the start of a new semester—it’s also the final lap before <i style="">maturita</i>—the required leaving-school examinations all of my fourth year students must take in May. Many of them will choose to take a <i style="">maturita</i> test in English, and I’m going to offer as much help as they’re willing to accept. And many of them will choose not to take a test in English, meaning that partly out of fatigue (and laziness...) and partly out of necessity, many of them will just stop putting much effort into English class. Having both groups of students in each and every lesson can be quite trying.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><b style=""><span style="">SOME DARK TIMES<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">Honestly, I'm usually not one to say that my problems---even lots of them---are the result of spiritual attack. I do believe---and strongly---that we are in the midst of a spiritual battlefield and we have a cunning Enemy. I've read about it in the Gospels and in other writings in the Bible, such as in Ephesians. But most of the time I think that my circumstances and I are quite broken and messed up enough to take the blame for most of the problems I can think of; winter blues and my own selfishness, for example, would account for most of them.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">Nevertheless, the way this year has progressed has stripped away much of my hesitance. My teammates have been experiencing persistent nightmares since training began last August. Individually, we've been confronted with some temptations that have never been significant problems before. And as you know, our fourth teammate, Hank, abruptly decided to leave about a month ago under circumstances that are rife with some dark deception. Furthermore, there's an atmosphere of confusion all around these circumstances, which only heightens my concern.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">And I'm reminded that this is indeed a dark place we've come to. That the Enemy is here and does not want to give up ground. That his smartest weapon is to divide us and discourage. And I'm reminded that we reflect the light of Christ in this dark place. Please pray that we would keep our lamps trimmed and defogged.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">And also remember us as the hunt for a new teammate and teacher at <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Basic</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">School</st1:placetype></st1:place> #2 continues after Hank’s departure almost two months ago. We’re in an awkward time of ambiguity (I mean, more than usual) but are trusting that God is working for our best and the best for candidates under consideration.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><b style=""><span style="">PRAYER REQUESTS</span></b><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;font-family:arial;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="">·<span style="font-size:7;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="">For a strong start for a new semester<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;font-family:arial;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="">·<span style="font-size:7;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="">For refreshed creativity (and patience) in preparing my students for <i style="">maturita</i><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;font-family:arial;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="">·<span style="font-size:7;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="">For the possibility of a new teammate—who may or may not be coming—that this would go by the hand of God<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;font-family:arial;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="">·<span style="font-size:7;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="">For grace to trust and obey Christ more deeply in this spiritual battlefield<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;font-family:arial;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="">·<span style="font-size:7;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="">For Chrissy and I as we prepare not only for our wedding, but for our marriage<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;font-family:arial;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="">·<span style="font-size:7;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="">Still for our health and good spirits in the middle of winter<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;font-family:arial;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="">·<span style="font-size:7;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="">Still for Sokolov and IS</span><span style="" lang="CS">ŠTE</span><span style="">, that God would continue to open doors for us to talk about him to students, friends and colleagues<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="">As one of my students reminds me, New Year’s is really just another day like any other. And he’s right—the work of changing and growing happens all around us on every normal day. But I hope that you are able to participate in the special significance we’ve all decided to give this time of year and use it to reflect upon God’s faithfulness in bringing us through a year that has now passed and to look forward to his blessings (even the ones that don’t feel very good) in this new one now arrived. I pray that you would enjoy this new beginning as a way of<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="arial"><span style=""><o:p></o:p>Making Him Important,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span style="font-family:arial;">Joel</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113641075829814352?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1136332109322218002006-01-03T23:48:00.000+01:002006-01-04T22:18:43.206+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_0661.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_0661.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>So the day after Christmas, three separate groups of ESIers converged on the city my Czech friends call "the belly-button of the world." To us native English speakers, that city would be Rome, Italy, a city which we call "the eternal city." But honestly, except that Rome is just so stinking old, I think I prefer the Slavic interpretation.<br /><br />But don't get me wrong: we had a great time in Rome and walked many a mile on its cigarette-decorated streets. And if the bounty of thousands of years of mighty and ignoble history weren't enough, Rome was also significantly warmer than our Czech Republic homes. And that alone made any Roman my friend...and countryman.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/The%20Forum.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/The%20Forum.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>After locating our rather <a href="http://www.hostelworld.com/hosteldetails.php/MJHostel-Rome-740#">seedy hostel</a>, five of us hit the streets around sunset, making our way to Trajan's Market and the old Roman Forum, both in picturesque disarray. I don't want to diminish how cool it really was, but basically, if it were any other city in the world, the only real response would be "and you <span style="font-style: italic;">still</span> you haven't cleaned this up<span style="font-style: italic;">?</span>"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Peter%20and%20Paul%20Prison.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Peter%20and%20Paul%20Prison.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The sign said this is the place where Peter and Paul were imprisoned before they were martyred. It was kind of surreal to be there and didn't look all that comfortable.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Rome%20035.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Rome%20035.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Stephen, myself and Ben, entertaining other tourists with our silent pantomime of a gladiator fight in front of the Colosseum on our first night in Rome.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_0614.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_0614.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>We probably waiting under signs like this---showing us to the entrance of the Vatican Museums---for almost two hours, all the while being accosted by postcard and umbrella vendors. But we spent our first full day mostly at the Vatican, wandering through one of the most incredible museums in the world and later at St. Peter's Basilica the church building that could rightly be capitalized as The Church Building.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_0659.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_0659.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />And here's Laura (1) putting on some fabulous "statue camoflage" (do you see her?), (2) making me smile <span style="font-style: italic;">again</span>, and (3) being a good sport and putting up with my silly picture demands. The lovely display behind the lovely Laura is part of the aptly named "Room of Busts." And that's pretty much what it was. Lots and lots of statues of the heads of people who are now dead. But hey, they sure made it fun, huh?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Rome%20085.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Rome%20085.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And though we weren't allowed to take pictures of the actual work, here's a decent giftshop mock-up of part of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. One could find lots of amusement plunking all the exposed adam's apples of tourists gaping up at this marvel, but mostly I was just a potential plunking victim myself the whole time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_0692.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_0692.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Emily enjoys the fine service and hospitality of another friendly Italian waiter.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_0743.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_0743.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>A crystal blue sky over the Colosseum. Did you know that the Colosseum was named after the big statue of Nero that used to be right next to it, the Colosso? Well, there's a fact to go with the postcard picture.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Friends%20at%20the%20Pantheon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Friends%20at%20the%20Pantheon.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And here's us looking at the facade into the Pantheon, one of the most incredible spaces I've ever stood inside of. Originally a temple built for the worship of all of the Roman gods, its stones and marble were saved from scavengers when it was converted to a church. Honestly, as much as I bring my 21st spirituality and aesthetics into any experience, this place evoked more of a sense of the sacred than any of the opulent churches I've seen scattered across Europe. I don't have a good enough picture of the inside. Sorry.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113633210932221800?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1136230971614364062006-01-02T20:16:00.000+01:002006-01-02T20:51:40.450+01:00<span style="font-family:arial;">So first semester grades are due this week, which means Mr. Agee’s English classes have been writing tests for the past two weeks. As a teacher, giving tests is like polluting your water with mercury. Tests give you a break in the flow of weekly lesson plans, and class by class it doesn’t feel like much damage has been done, but by Friday your desk is choked with piles of tests. And though it make you lose sleep, appetite and quite often, your hair, you must drink the water.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">School starts tomorrow, so today I’ve been hunched over the kitchen table, probing test after test with a green pen, weeding out errors and adding up points. It’s numb work, but to keep myself amused, I wrote two of my friends into the test questions, having my students describe pictures and figures about them, so that when this day arrived I’d have plenty of ingenious responses to enjoy. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">This round of tests has been unwittingly sponsored by Kyle Booterbaugh and Sam Keyes. Kyle, you provided the personal information for a mock passport. Sam, you graciously provided your lovely face as a passport photo. And gentlemen, here are some of the ingenious things some of my students had to say about you: </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Sam%20the%20Great.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 168px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px" height="242" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Sam%20the%20Great.jpg" width="168" border="0" /></a></span><em><span style="font-family:arial;">Kyle is high. <br />*Kyle looks like my mom.<br />*Kyle looks like white Jimi Henrix.<br />Kyle has a medium nose.<br />Kyle looks like E.T.<br />Kyle looks like a karate master.<br />Kyle looks like a bad cop.<br />Kyle looks like Kyle.<br />Kyle is muscle and very building man.<br />Kyle has very hypnotic eyes.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">* These two appeared on the same test. Ergo, Honza’s mom looks like...</span> </em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113623097161436406?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1135071522786051822005-12-20T10:29:00.000+01:002005-12-20T10:38:42.800+01:00So this week (only two days of classes, really) we're singing Christmas carols in English class at ISŠTE. We warm up with everybody's favorite, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" and close with everybody's other favorite "We Wish You A Merry Christmas." And in the middle, we go through "The Twelve Days of Christmas" all the way from those twelve leaping lords to the bird in the tree himself. But just before we finish with this most numeric Christmas song we change up the words, replacing all those rings and birds with whatever English words the class comes up with.<br /><br />Today, 4TL came up with this impressive list of gifts:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">12 Sheep a Dancing</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">11 Kilograms of Dynamite</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">10 Tons of Candy</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">9 DVD's a Playing</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">8 Girls a Smiling</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">7 Trips to the Moon</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">6 Salami Sausages</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">5 Golden Things</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">4 2000-Inch TV's</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">3 French Electric Guitars</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">2 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Doves...</span><br /> <br /> <span style="font-style: italic;">...and a New Ferrari in a Pear Tree!</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><br /> </span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113507152278605182?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1134986839832845932005-12-19T10:31:00.000+01:002005-12-19T11:07:20.943+01:00Here's some photos of the Christmas season in and around West Bohemia this year!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Christie%20at%20Loket.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Christie%20at%20Loket.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Just outside of Sokolov is Loket, a small town in an elbow of the River Ohře with a big castle right in the middle of it all. Every December the town hosts a weekend Christmas market inside the castle. Basically, the combined atmosphere of castle and market makes it Christmas, times nine. Christie's in the crowd on the right side behind the guy in a white shirt.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/A%20Nice%20Pause%20With%20Pepa.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/A%20Nice%20Pause%20With%20Pepa.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I hosted a White Elephant Christmas Party in the new apartment for an English conversation group I meet with once a week. This is Pepa, who was about as excited as I was to eat all the food piling up on the coffee table. Ivana (in the kitchen) made sure that more kept coming.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Ivana%27s%20Gift.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Ivana%27s%20Gift.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Ivana (there are two Ivana's!) reacts at getting her gift, a little coin jar that says something like "Only For Jokes!" Yep. They definitely understood the idea behind White Elephant Gifts!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Pepa%27s%20Other%20Gifts.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Pepa%27s%20Other%20Gifts.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Pepa and Ivana play with Pepa's shiny new, jumbo-sized shoehorn. He won't even have to bend at all the get his shoes on now.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/White%20Elephant%20Group%20Picture.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/White%20Elephant%20Group%20Picture.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Here's the whole crew: Ivana, Eva, Pepa, Ivana and me (with my new pillow...that has an elephant on it...uh-huh...they definitely got it).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_0551.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_0551.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>We ESIers out in West Bohemia (aka the West Bohemia Social Club) hosted our second what hope will be annual Christmas party for the seven of us and three guests. The event has been dubbed "The West Bo HO HO HO," and was a HO HO HOle lotta fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_0559.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_0559.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Laura, Sarah and Emily enjoying the West Bohemian version of a gift exchange. Let's just say that everybody always gets <span style="font-style: italic;">exactly </span>what they wanted ;)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/IMG_0574.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/IMG_0574.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Me, after I opened Tammy's gift to herself and before handing it over to Tammy herself. What incredible insight I have to give Tammy <span style="font-style: italic;">exactly</span> what she wanted ;)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113498683983284593?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1134460500675506122005-12-13T08:21:00.000+01:002005-12-13T10:30:48.306+01:00So the sun just rose in Sokolov for the billionth-some time, and I'm in my office, already with stories from the day that make me smile.<br /><br />Tuesdays begin early for me with a 6:30am class with a group of six business managers at Sokolovska Uhelna---the local giant of Bohemian coal mining and <span style="font-style: italic;">the </span>company that pretty much has a hand in everything that goes on in this little town, including at ISŠTE, which is why I'm there Tuesday mornings before sunrise. Everyone around here just calls them SUAS (SOO-ahss).<br /><br />I inherited this English conversation class from my teammate last year, me being a short on hours, and after a few months of me thrashing around, trying to keep my head above water, the boys and I figured out how to make it work for us. Now things proceed more or less swimmingly.<br /><br />This morning we played a conversation game with all kinds of questions about Christmas---traditions, whaddya want for it, whoddya wanna spend it with, whaddya think about this and that---and every time you pulled a question, you had to speak about it for two minutes or risk losing <span style="font-style: italic;">three spaces on the board</span> (ooooooh...).<br /><br />The game was hilarious actually, mostly due to Jirka, who kept saying things that were accidentally funny. Like when we were talking about "the best part of Christmas for you," for Jirka it was "not working." To this his wife (Mirka, who joined us in the class this year) observed that Jirka has Christmas every weekend.<br /><br />Then I wished him a <span style="font-style: italic;">Veselé Víkend</span>, something like "Merry Weekend," which apparently sounds either really funny in Czech or really funny spoken by a foreigner. In any case, they laughed.<br /><br />But Jirka's triumph came when answering "What do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas." Poor Jirka. Struggling to express his heart's desrie, all he could come up with was "jumper." Now that's great for British English (it's a jacket, or sometimes overalls) but I wanted to make sure I knew what he meant, so I pressed him to explain a bit further. All he could get out was this it was for skiing.<br /><br />Somewhere in all of this, someone else in the class put together the amusing combination of "skiing" and "jumper," and he showed his amusement by imitating a ski jump. In a minute everyone else caught on, and at the thought of <span style="font-style: italic;">Jirka</span> ski jumping, the class erupted (and Jirka, too). I could still hear their cackles (from two floors up, mind you) when I exited the lobby after class.<br /><br />Merry Week, everyone.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113446050067550612?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1134409500596835232005-12-12T18:32:00.000+01:002005-12-12T18:45:00.616+01:00Vésele vánoce!<br /><br />...as the Czechs say this time of year. To be honest, the Christmas season began in earnest around the beginning of November around here. The Czechs don't have Thanksgiving (or Halloween, for that matter) to act as a sort of holiday buffer between Christmas and the 11 months previous. Although, as many have observed, stores deck their halls earlier every year in the USA, too, so perhaps this is more of a similarity than a difference, eh?<br /><br />In any case, 'tis the season.<br /><br />Partly out of repsect for the bang-up job he did, and partly because he takes a weird sort of pride out of tracking where people are looking at his blog from (scary, huh?), and partly because I want to show him how much I care by feeding his strange obsession, and partly out of plain, old-fashioned laziness, instead of writing up my own account of Czech Christmas traditions, I'll just link you to <a href="http://harveyme.blogspot.com/2005/12/czech-christmas.html">my buddy Mike's blog</a>.<br /><br />I'll post some Christmas reports and comments as the big day approaches, but I hope Mike's hard work will satisfy all you culture fans.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113440950059683523?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1134113735801572382005-12-09T08:20:00.000+01:002005-12-09T11:22:13.700+01:00<code><span style="font-family:georgia;">So </span><a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://chrissyinpraha.blogspot.com/2005/12/story.html">Chrissy's side</a><span style="font-family:georgia;"> of the million dollar story made its way to the blogging world just this morning. For those of you who just lust after details and reactions, now you can officially compare notes.</span><br /><br /><strong style="font-family: georgia;">In other news:</strong><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Seven of us recently purchased tickets for a real Roman holiday<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:georgia;">ESIers swarm to Sokolov this weekend, where my apartment (without me being there) will serve as a launchpad for a trip to the Nurnberg Christmas Market, the Queen Mother of all European Christmas Markets, at least in my limited reckoning. I made the trip last year, so won't be joining them. But Merry Christmas to 'em, I say</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>Some friends and I achieved international fame this week when our faces were published on </span><a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://www.teachoverseas.org" org="">ESI's website</a><span style="font-family:georgia;"> as a plug for the Central Europe program. Check out the picture to see us at last year's Nurnberg Christmas Market. Stay to learn more about ESI ;)</span><br /></code><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113411373580157238?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1133956049733030602005-12-07T12:36:00.000+01:002005-12-08T10:52:28.346+01:00So about a month ago my friend and fearless leader Aaron was visiting for some reason or other, and I told him that I was planning to propose to Chrissy. He listened to my scheme and called it good. And then he told me after you're engaged, get ready for the two million-dollar questions:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">1.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> How did you do it?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> When is the big day?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> Would you like your $2 million in cash or check?</span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><br />Here is my attempt to answer these questions for the blogging world.<br /><br />1. <span style="font-weight: bold;">How did you do it? </span><font>Subterfuge, lads, subterfuge. The night started out like any normal "date night." I made reservations at a nice restaurant---but not give-it-away nice. It was a Mexican restaurant (at least about as Mexican as one can<font> find in Prague). After that, the plan was to go see the new Harry Potter movie, which had just opened in Prague that night.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/The%20Shirt%20Before%20Dinner.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/The%20Shirt%20Before%20Dinner.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Here's us before dinner. The awesome duds you see me wearing are my Mexican Food Eating/Clever Decoy ("He'd never ask me in so awesome of duds as those!") Shirt. And so we went to our dinner, hungry for nachos, and willing to drop some serious change to get 'em. We had some pleasant dinner conversation, talked about seeing the movie that night (wink), and enjoyed our fancy Mexican feast.<br /><br />As the time approached for us to leave, I stepped away to "use the bathroom" (i.e. make a phone call), and when I returned, Chrissy took her chance to, er, "powder her nose." As soon as she stepped into the bathroom, I went into action. I quickly called my friend Mike (another ESIer), who was waiting just outside, who now entered the restaurant with The Package in hand. Here we swapped: he took my seat and I took The Package. Then I ran.<br /><br />I ran outside and down the street, where I found another restaurant, where, finding the bathroom, I opened The Package. Inside: a suit, long underwear, hand warmers, shoes and The Ring. It was a small bathroom. The kind of bathroom that puts the "Closet" in "Water Closet." It was tight quarters to make a complete change of clothes, but it worked out swell.<br /><br />Meanwhile, Chrissy finished her business in the washroom and returned to the dining room---to her astonishment, seeing Mike there in my place, wearing a suit no less (Mike was on his way to a huge student dance---the <span style="font-style: italic;">maturitní ples</span>---see this blog come February for details). Mike made pleasant conversation, informing her that I had gone and that he would be escorting her around the city for a while. He also gave her an envelope, which contained a tram ticket, some of those same hand warmers, and a love note ;) Then they were on their way to...Chrissy didn't know yet...why should you?<br /><br />...the next meeting point, a quaint coffee house in the cosmopolitan Smichov district, where our heroine met Sarah and Christie (two more ESIers), who gave her another envelope (with another note), and who led her to the next meeting point, a parking structure---a place that can only be made romantic by a story. This story will not be included here. It suffices to say that a parking structure indeed was a romantic location.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Romantic%20Place%20to%20Read.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Romantic%20Place%20to%20Read.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><font><font>Here the trio met Beth, who passed off envelope #3 (another love note ;). All along the way, Chrissy's great guides (my much-appreciated helpers) took the whole thing into their hands, acting like nothing was out of the ordinary. And they all were nonchalant about where they were leading her, what they were doing, the works. And Chrissy kept getting more and more exciting, and her voice kept getting higher and higher...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/I%20just%20love%20these%20hand%20warmers%21.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/I%20just%20love%20these%20hand%20warmers%21.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><font><font><br />Here's Chrissy after she discovered the power of those hand warmers. If you know Chrissy, you know that she's wearing winter coats by about the end of August.<br /><br />Beth dropped Chrissy off just in front of <span style="font-style: italic;">Taneční Dům</span>---what the Czechs call the "Dancing House." For me, this is a special place; when I was in my freshman year at Vanguard, I bought a poster of this building, thinking it was neat, framed it, and hung it on the wall of three different dorm rooms. All the while I didn't know that after Vanguard God would call me to that same country; after three years of looking at Prague, I was going to Prague. God's sense of humor, eh? So <font><font><span style="font-style: italic;">Taneční Dům </span>is a symbol---an Ebenezer, if you will---of God's leading in my life. So here I asked Chrissy to be my wife.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/She%20Said%20YES.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/She%20Said%20YES.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><font><font><br />She said yes.<br /><br />Whew.<br /><br />2. <span style="font-weight: bold;">When is the big day?</span><font> Well, we made a pact not to talk about it. Once the wedding door is opened, I kinda think there'll be no closing it, draft and all. Nevertheless, the rough idea for a date is this summer, the last part of July to the beginning of August.<br /><br />3. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Would you like your $2 million in cash or check?<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/melendez09.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/melendez09.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><font><font><font><br />In the words of Lucy VanPelt: "What I really want? <span style="font-style: italic;">Real estate</span>."<br /><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113395604973303060?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1133778049084750292005-12-05T11:12:00.000+01:002005-12-05T11:20:49.086+01:00So in case the news hasn't reached your eyes or ears yet, this weekend I asked my sweet Chrissy, girlfriend for two years, friend for longer, to be my wife. And she said yes. Which, what with all the work that went into making this night go as planned, really prevented a great night from being spoiled :)<br /><br />I'll post the public version of the story (some of the mush is just for us) later this week. So this has been a pretty fantastic weekend overall, to understate. Thanks to friends and family who have been asking about us for more than two and a half years and praying for us since way before that. And Chrissy: I love you, and I'm looking forward to someday soon seeing you every day instead of just cool weekends.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113377804908475029?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1133777174187805252005-12-05T10:57:00.000+01:002005-12-05T11:11:44.943+01:00Here's some pictures from the Sokolover Thanksgiving (see below for the story). These pictures AND MORE can also be seen on my Webshots page. Just use the link on the top right of this page.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/My%20Take%20on%20Dressing.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/My%20Take%20on%20Dressing.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />So I wanted to have my Granny's famous sourdough turkey stuffing for Thanksgiving dinner. But in a country that doesn't know this recipe, you have to improvise. So I set my expectations low for it to taste just like Granny's, and it <span style="font-style: italic;">did</span> taste different for sure---but this batch came out pretty yummy all the same.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/After%202%20Helpings.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/After%202%20Helpings.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />After two helpings of dinner, this is what the girls felt like. Fortunately, they were able to get over the full-feelings and make room for dessert.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Thankful%20Sokolovers2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Thankful%20Sokolovers2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />And here's the whole Sokolover crew later that night. From left to right, that's Grant, Christie, me, Chrissy and Beth.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113377717418780525?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1133516506308050062005-12-02T09:55:00.000+01:002005-12-02T10:41:46.326+01:00<span style="font-family: arial;">So one of the greatest tools we ESI teachers have in our arsenal is the "song cloze." Whoever decided to spell it this way took a page out of Daniel Webster or perhaps Snoop Dogg, but inexplicable Z's aside, song clozes really are stupendous.</span><br /> <br /> <span style="font-family: arial;">The idea is that students like music, and lots of music is in English, so let's listen to a song and read the lyrics as we go. Only not all the lyrics are there. Periodically, we've erased some of the __________, which students must fill-in by listening carefully to the ____________. I'm sure you can see the ___________ of this.</span><br /> <br /> <span style="font-family: arial;">(Answers: words, song, utter genius)</span><br /> <br /> <span style="font-family: arial;">We listen to the song a few times, and by the end of class, we've discussed lots of new vocabulary, cleverly reviewed some grammar (using real-life examples!), and we're ready to SING IT! Which we do.</span><br /> <br /> <span style="font-family: arial;">Today I kicked off the holiday season by clozing a Christmas favorite of mine, "Grandma Got Runover By A Reindeer." Several students were amused at the idea of their </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;">babíčka </span><span style="font-family: arial;">plastered in the snow, with "incriminating Claus marks on her back." But really, it was just me laughing to myself in the front of the class. Which, really, is just a normal day in class.</span><br /> <br /> <span style="font-family: arial;">Some other song clozes to make lessons this year:</span><br /> <br /> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Frank's 2,000-Inch TV </span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;">"Weird Al" Yankovic</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> - Weird Al has been a faithful cloze singer for me, and though I have high hopes for an Amish Paradise lesson sometime next semester, no Weird Al cloze has done better than Frank and his gargantuan television set. The line about watching "The Simpsons" from 30 blocks away still makes me laugh out loud---an important perk, since as the teacher I listen to these songs about 50 times before I've taught it to every class.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Are You Gonna Be My Girl?</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Jet</span> - I chose this mostly because it rocks and the words aren't too hard, but the real joy is watching the look of shock and then dismay on my students' faces when the first verse breaks in at 90 miles-per-hour. But they underestimate themselves, and by the third run through, most of 'em have it all.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113351650630805006?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1133254177431146972005-11-29T09:46:00.000+01:002005-11-29T10:06:48.840+01:00So one benefit of being so far away from home and in a place that doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving (at least as we know it) is that nobody'll stop you if you want to celebrate Thanksgiving <span style="font-style: italic;">twice</span>. We did the day of thanks as a full ESI team two weeks ago (hopefully you've already seen the <a href="http://community.webshots.com/user/aguaviva312">pictures</a>). And last Saturday we Sokolovers threw a little <span style="font-style: italic;">Den díkůvzdání</span> of our own.<br /><br />And how many thanks there were to give. Like for the familiar holiday eats: mashed potatoes and gravy, greenbean casserole, fruit salad with raisins in it (alas, no brocolli), pumpkin pie and even---yum---backgammon pie like Mom makes it. Sadly there was no turkey (but roasted chickens filled in nicely) and none of the infamous rolls (see previous blog), but I did try my hand at a Czech take on Granny's sourdough dressing---and thought it certainly wasn't like home, it still tasted pretty good.<br /><br />I love Thanksgiving with the ESI team---I've passed two in a row with them now---but as everyone filtered in for the feast Saturday afternoon, we all remarked how <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span> actually felt the way Thanksgiving is supposed to. Family and friends lying around, laughing and getting fat together.<br /><br />And another thing: my refrigerator is still full of leftovers. Yes sir. This was the genuine article.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113325417743114697?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1132841499985190212005-11-24T14:38:00.000+01:002005-11-24T15:11:40.000+01:00So it's the fourth Thursday of November already and a little past 2pm, which means that nine hours from now, nine time zones away in California, my family should be sitting down, spread throughout my Aunt and Uncle's (apparently) recently remodeled house to take in a first helping of Thanksgiving dinner. Usually we arrive in waves, what with different sets of in-laws to hit up first, but by 6:00 or 7:00 everyone should be there for pie---or perhaps a fourth helping of Granny's stuffing and a fifth---or sixth---of Uncle Ben's rolls.<br /><br />My Uncle Ben's rolls are perhaps the greatest part of Thanksgiving in his house. The "recipe" is my Great Grandmother's. By the time I knew her (e.g. I was born), she had made her rolls so many times that she knew the mixture by heart. To this day I'm not sure that a hard copy ever existed---so that when she passed away a number of years ago, for a while my stomach hijacked my heart, and I felt just as bereft of these rolls as I did my dear grandmother.<br /><br />The best way to eat Uncle Ben's rolls is to wait for the second round and then eat them buttered with a slice of ham in the middle. I always make two of these sandwiches at a time. But they're good with gravy, too, and when mopping up the juices left all over your plate after any given helping of dinner.<br /><br />This is my third consecutive Thanksgiving away from home. A huge Youth Convention put me in San Diego in 2003. In 2004 I was in a Czech bordertown with 50+ other North Americans. And this year I'm in Sokolov, one week after meeting up with 30+ Americans in another little Czech town for a one-week-early Thanksgiving. That first year I was away, my family, well aware of my passion for rolls, made a slideshow of everyone but me having their fill. I believe there were at least six or seven different shots of my cousin Neil in roll-ecstasy.<br /><br />I don't know if they have something in mind to torture me with this year, but whether they do or not, out of necessity I've steeled my stomach against roll hunger-pains this year, and will distract myself with a roasted chicken or leftover pumpkin pie or something. Uncle Ben offered to make me a special batch this summer when I was home, but I never took him up on it. I suppose I forgot. So it goes.<br /><br />Saturday we're having a second, mini-Thanksgiving in Sokolov---Beth, Christie and I hosting Grant, another American teaching living here this year not with ESI, and Chrissy, coming in from Prague with a pie. I suspect we'll make too much food; we've already planned Sunday to be a leftovers day. Lucky me, I guess, to have two Thanksgivings in as many weeks, but alas---two Thanksgivings without rolls. When I count all the Thanksgivings I've had since rolls have been absent, including last October's Canadian Thanksgiving, that's five Thanksgivings.<br /><br />I suppose I have a lot to be thankful for. But would somebody please pass the rolls?<br /><br />Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. You're in my prayers today.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113284149998519021?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1132741873038996092005-11-23T11:25:00.000+01:002005-11-23T14:42:16.203+01:00<span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So here's the next installment of the newsletter I send out to supporters. It's got some pretty important stuff at the bottom, that partly explains my absence from the blogging world recently.</span><br /><br />In Everything Give Thanks – Notes From the Czech Republic</span><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">November 22, 2005 – (22. listopadu 2005)<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">WINTER IS HERE</span></b> <p style="font-family: georgia;">Snow like cotton balls swirled outside my window Sunday morning as I drank my breakfast coffee before church. It's over a week late by Czech reckoning; no doubt my teammates would be annoyed to hear it from me again, but November 11^th is the traditional first snowfall of winter in the Czech Republic, the day when Saint Martin rides in on his white horse. It's a poetic, if inaccurate, way to forecast the weather, really. And it does make one wonder: if Martin comes in on a white horse, then what's all this white stuff they leave behind?</p> <p style="font-family: georgia;">Can you say that in a missions newsletter? Moving on.</p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><b>A QUICK PLUG</b></p> <p style="font-family: georgia;">Pardon me this quick plug: remember to check out pictures with this link: <font><a href="http://community.webshots.com/user/aguaviva312" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">http://community.webshots.com<wbr>/user/aguaviva312</a> <font> And now, for those of you who can never get enough email from Central Europe, I give you a weblog featuring some of my continuing adventures teaching English, living in the family of God and figuring out what it means to be a missionary. You can get there by following this link: <a href="http://www.czechdream.blogspot.com/" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">http://www.czechdream.blogspot<wbr>.com/</a> </span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><font><font><b>READING THE PSALMS</b></span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font>This year the ESI Czech Republic team (all 30 of us) has been reading the Psalms together. We've been reading one psalm together each week; it's a way to stay together even as we're spread across the country.</span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font>Next week's psalm is number 105, a memory of God's faithfulness to his promises and how he rescued his people from Egypt and the wilderness.<br /></span></span></p> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font><i> Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name;<br /></i></span></span><font><font><i> make known among the nations what<br /> he has done.<br /></i></span></span></p> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font><i> Sing to him, sing praise to him;<br /> tell of all his wonderful acts.<br /></i></span></span></p> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font><i> Glory in his holy name;<br /></i></span></span><font><font><i> let the hearts of those who seek the<br /> LORD rejoice.<br /></i></span></span></p> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font><i> Look to the LORD and his strength;<br /> seek his face always.</i></span></span></p> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font><b style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">TO BE HONEST</b><br /><br />To be honest, this past week has been one of the most difficult in more than a year's worth in Sokolov. Last week my teammate and roommate, Hank, decided that he needed to return home to the United States. Although we knew about his struggles, the news was sudden and a shock to all of us. Unfortunately, this has been a very public affair and we've been left to pick up a lot of pieces, both in our now-smaller team and in the wider community, including at his school, which now must cover a full load of classes.</span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font>We're left with a lot of questions. We're piecing together what happened, we're slowly sharing the news with the people around us, answering questions as best we can. We're praying about the possibility of a new ESI teacher coming soon to take his place. We're praying for Basic School #2. We're asking how we can support each other in the new way things are.</span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font>I must confess that this has been pretty hard on me. By God's grace alone I don't feel any bitterness towards my brother, but I'm struggling with a lot of uncertainty and loneliness these days. The three of us have some real grieving to do—and Hank, too. Only the Lord heals wounds like he must be carrying today.</span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><font><font><b>SOME THINGS TO PRAY FOR</b></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><font><font>·<span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>For Beth, Christie and I, who have lost a member of our family</span></span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><font><font>·<span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>For Hank, whom I believe was deceived and now needs healing and gracefully-given truth</span></span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><font><font>·<span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>For Basic School #2, especially Hank's former students</span></span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><font><font>·<span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>For the possibility of a new teammate, who may or may not be coming—that this would go by the hand of God</span></span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><font><font>·<span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Still for our health and good spirits as winter has set in</span></span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><font><font>·<span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span>Still for Sokolov and ISŠTE, that God would continue to open doors for us to talk about him to students, friends and colleagues</span></span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><font><font>So I come back to Psalm 105—less to end this newsletter on a p</span></span></span><font><font>ositive note, but perhaps more as a reminder to you and to me that God is indeed faithful in some pretty dark and painful situations. And as a reminder that even in the darkest, bleakest parts of the psalms, collectively they all point back to God's faithfulness and call us to be thankful.<br /><br />Thank you for remembering to pray for us. I'm truly thankful that God loves me enough to have people talking to him about me. Take advantage of this season to be thankful both in the light and in dark places—it's part of the good work of</span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font>Making Him Important,</span></span></p> <font><font> </span></span> <p style="font-family: georgia;"><font><font>Joel</span></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113274187303899609?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1132142892770205752005-11-16T11:05:00.000+01:002005-11-23T11:24:55.936+01:00As Christians, we are not called to be useful---at least in the way we may think of usefulness. I kicked and pouted my way through a year of sin, pain and spirit-death last year getting that truth planted into me. I think I made an analogy to some people that in retrospect, I feel like I was a Barbie doll last year, and God, pleased that I'd agreed to go along for the ride, took to ripping my limbs off one by one.<br /><br />"I'm sorry, I can't use this. It has to go."<br /><br />"But you said that I would---"<br /><br />"I can't use this. It has to go."<br /><br />"But it always worked before when---"<br /><br />"I can't use this. It has to go."<br /><br />"But him over there, he's got that and---"<br /><br />"I can't use this. It has to go."<br /><br />"So why'd you even bring me here if I can't even---"<br /><br />"It has to go. Trust me."<br /><br />Being useful sure feels good. I like making people happy, and I like looking responsible and feeling needed, and I like meeting goals and standards I set for myself. And sometimes I think I can stand back and say that I think it was God who was doing the using, and that feels good, too. But are we guilty of putting our feeling useful and effective ahead of our trust in the Lord, the Maker and Craftsman of Tools? After all, he never needs us for anything and does splendid things---without us.<br /><br />Straining to do what's right and to genuinely meet the world's real needs is a holy calling we all have. It's important not to be lazy, not to settle when we can serve and think and love better. But we are first called to live in perfect relationship with Christ, who isn't after perfecting us so that angels will ooh and ahh---or the people around us, or <span style="font-style: italic;">us</span>, for that matter. Thinking about ourselves and whether we're being useful or not hinders God's purposes; he's getting us to the place where <span style="font-style: italic;">he </span>can use us. And at the beginning and the end, his is the only measure of usefulness that may stand.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113214289277020575?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1131393299451229642005-11-07T20:37:00.000+01:002005-11-07T20:54:59.466+01:00So this weekend I went to a TEFL conference in Plzen, a biggish city about an hour-and-a-half south of Sokolov famous for brewing especially bitter beers and for not being rescued by the communists in World War II. Although it sounds like an aromatic blend of Turkish tea, TEFL is actually a shop term for "Teaching English as a Foreign Language," which, of course, is my current occupation and avocation.<br /><br />I attended a few of these last year, but this sucker was the biggest such conference I've been to yet, with a couple hundred teachers in attendence from all over this part of the country, including three of us from humble ISSTE. There were lots of fascinating little seminars to attend, including one called "I am a Canadian," where the speaker (a Canadian) explained that the single most distinguishing feature of a Canadian is that he is <em>not an American</em>. Apparently a lot of Czechs have trouble with that one. Apparently a lot of Americans have trouble with that one.<br /><br />I however, have lived with a Canadian and am dating a former ex-pat. There. Canadian by assocatiation.<br /><br />Mostly these things are ways for textbook publishers to corral lots of teachers past display tables full of exercise books again and again, which we did. Again and again. Some of us were taken in by catch-phrases like "multicultural emphasis" or "graded levels" or "nouns and verbs," but I stayed strong, collecting business cards and filling up my complimentary canvass bag with free samples...of textbooks.<br /><br />Textbook free samples are exactly what my students are looking for in a textbook: something flashy that's short and too cheap to bother covering in brown paper bags. Which saves them a lot of trouble, as brown paper bags haven't caught on in the Czech Republic. Oh, for civilization to come set us free.<br /><br />Or at least Albertson's.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113139329945122964?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1131109351436481982005-11-04T13:27:00.000+01:002005-11-04T14:02:31.460+01:00any questions?<br />please begin<br />good luck<br /><br />help me to focus this time<br />and use this time to pray for them<br />watch over them closely<br />more than I can during a test<br /><br />his mouth is moving<br />he's talking to the other guy<br />it's the first test, got to make an example<br />he needs a pen<br />he's giving him a pen<br />okay<br />just glare for a bit<br /><br />i'm putting them in front of your face<br />shine your grace on them<br />and open their eyes to see<br /><br />she's getting something from her bag<br /> what is it<br /> it's water<br /> water is okay for english class<br /><br />walk down this aisle with me<br />touch them on the shoulder<br />whisper your big love in their ears<br />and open their ears to hear<br /><br />is she wearing a...<br />yes<br />stand somewhere else<br /><br />protect them<br />people want to use them, break them<br />and he wants to sift them away<br />pursue them, catch them<br />soften their hearts to...<br /><br />that answer's too short<br />look: it says complete sentences<br />yes<br />that's better<br />(but it's still wrong)<br /><br />thank you for the seeds<br />that have been planted before<br />help me to<br />shoo away the birds, move away the stone<br />pull up the weeds, not stamp the soil down myself<br /><br />he's got writing on his arm<br />what is on your arm<br />excuse me, mr. teacher, it is mathematics<br />oh<br />do not cheat for mathematics, too<br /><br />lord, these are your students<br />thank you for lending them to me<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113110935143648198?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1130944850793590042005-11-02T16:08:00.000+01:002005-11-02T16:20:50.803+01:00So by this time, two-and-a-half months into the new blog, pretty much all of the readers (all six of you) know that it's my birthday today. So far, as birthdays go, this one is a bit better than the last one.<br /><br />Last year I was two-and-a-half months into a new country, distracted and disoriented, and wading through Super Tuesday, a marathon that began weekly at 5:30am and didn't quit until 9pm. Fortunately, I had terrific teammates that took care of me, shifted around my schedule, and gave me a surprise party of sorts, where I learned that I had been elected President of the United States (I frequently share my special day with poll workers) and that Honza the hamster was my running mate. We have yet to be sworn in.<br /><br />This year I'm more prepared, and to fit with local custom, I baked myself a cake this morning and took it in to the office. It's not a bad system, I think. This way, people forget your birthday, but at least they've got cake to swallow their guilt with. Frank said that tomorrow he will "improve" the celebration. I hope he means more cake.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113094485079359004?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1130857372808838292005-11-01T15:53:00.000+01:002005-11-04T14:05:46.410+01:00<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:georgia;" >So my hometown Sokolov has made the map, it seems, because of a unique ecology project. Read for yourself, from a news service based out of South Africa:</span><br /><br />PRAGUE - A Czech town has built a €1 500 (about US$3 800) bridge to protect a handful of squirrels from a busy road, but do not know if they will use it, the town's mayor said on Thursday.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">The seven-metre high cable bridge, attached to two trees, spans a road that divides a large park in Sokolov in the west of the country near the German border.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">"We think this construction is unique in the world. I myself witnessed two dead squirrels on the road in the space of two months and I felt we had to do something," Sokolov mayor Karel Jakobec told AFP.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">At the moment the park is home to just three squirrels.</span><br /><br /></span><table align="left" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="6" width="130" style="font-family:times new roman;"><tbody><tr><td class="pullquote"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b>Squirrels are a protected species</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="articletext" style="font-family:times new roman;">"The idea is that instead of going down trees and crossing the road to get to the other side of the park the squirrels will go up and across. But we don't know yet if it will work," he added.<br /><br />The town is spending a total of 290 000 koruna, most of it donated, on the park including a row of trees and shrubs along the road.<br /><br />"We have already arranged for two more pairs of squirrels to be brought from an animal rescue centre and we are hoping that the squirrel population in the park will now grow," added Jakobec.<br /><br />Squirrels are a protected species in the Czech Republic.<br /><br />"Some people in the town think this is nonsense and we should be spending money on people rather than squirrels... but it's not," insisted the mayor. - Sapa-AFP<br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:georgia;" >I think I saw one of the three squirrels when I was walking in the park this Spring. No word on whether this squirrel was the last victim before somebody did something about it. I ran a search on Google about the "sokolov squirrel bridge" and it seems that people are reporting and blogging about it everywhere from London to South Africa to New Zealand and on a hundred other silly blogs like this one---and all about my little home-away-from-home.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:georgia;" >I'll update this blog soon with a picture of the bridge.</span> </span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113085737280883829?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1130768506791263032005-10-31T10:16:00.000+01:002005-11-01T16:46:17.920+01:00There are lots of nice things about being a teacher in the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Czech</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Republic</st1:placetype></st1:place>. One is that you can eat all the soup you want for lunch and no one will stop you. Another is that whole groups of people stand when you walk into the room. Another is that you occasionally get mail in multiple language inviting you to textbook conventions. And yet another is that for three weekdays in October you have Fall Holiday.<br /><br />Last year I spent my Fall Holiday in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Budapest</st1:place></st1:city> with a bunch of guys. We made masculine noises, walked around, ate Hungarian food, and took lots of pictures.<o:p></o:p><br /><br />This year, having Chrissy in the same time zone and all, I decided it would be pretty nice of me to bring her along wherever I decided to go. I also decided that although eating Hungarian food and taking pictures are noble pastimes, perhaps making masculine noises would not be tactful.<br /><br />So this Fall Holiday, Chrissy, my teammate Beth and I made it a traveling trio and took to the road—<st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Germany</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Romantic Road</st1:address></st1:street>, that is. There are lots of things to gush about, but these pictures and anecdotes are more blog-friendly, so here goes:<br /> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Bavarian%20Landscape%203.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Bavarian%20Landscape%203.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">1. We started on the Road at its southern tip in the Bavarian Alps in the city of Fussen, which means “feet” in German, near as I could tell. At least they made us walk a lot. In Fussen, our host declared that he spoke the language of Jesus. However, he followed that he doesn’t often speak with history’s most famous speaker of Aramaic.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Fall%20Break%202005%20065.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Fall%20Break%202005%20065.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />2. This is a picture of Neuschwanstein castle, which was built so that Bavarian postcard makers would have guaranteed employment for many, many years. Honestly, this castle was so fantastic that it didn’t even look real. It’s the <st1:place st="on">Disneyland</st1:place> effect, I guess, and art is made more real than life.<o:p><br /></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Parking%20Verboten.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Parking%20Verboten.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">3. We learned after successfully following a set of barely understood directions that we speak German. As near as we could tell, all you need to do is speak English with an accent and every once in a while throw on a "schmidt" or "baum" or "flugen." Yeah, I'm sure the Germans thought we were idiots, too.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Fall%20Break%202005%20006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Fall%20Break%202005%20006.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">4. Eating is pretty much my main goal for a good vacation. This is me eating one of my very favorite traveling meals: a Doner Kebap, sort of like Europe's Big Mac, straight out of Turkey. Confused? Okay. Just try one as soon as you can.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Scary%20Wurzburg%20Saint.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Scary%20Wurzburg%20Saint.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">5. In all, we visited five cities along the Romantic Road, including a measly two hours in Wurzburg, a pretty spectacular little city at the northern end of the road. I really want to go back there sometime. Here's a picture of a really scary-looking saint who's part of a bridge that I swear is a swindled and lesser copy of Prague's Charles Bridge.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Rothernburg%20Marktplatz%20Nacht.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Rothernburg%20Marktplatz%20Nacht.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">6. We stayed our last two nights in Rothenburg ob der Tauber, the crown jewel of the Romantic Road. Pretty much the whole town looks like this, which is to say "scrumtrillescent." It's also one of the only places in the world outside the North Pole where it's Christmas 356 days a year.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Fall%20Break%202005%20076p.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Fall%20Break%202005%20076p.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> 7. Here's Chrissy eating a "schneeball," which is a crunchy ball of deep-fried pastry, drenched in cinammon or chocolate or caramel or cream or whatever. These are in every shop window in Rothenburg. And everyone buys into this game. Believe me.<br /><br />If you want to see some more pictures from our little trip, check out my Webshots page. Try the link in the upper right-hand corner of this webpage.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113076850679126303?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1130141092492805382005-10-24T10:03:00.000+02:002005-10-24T20:55:09.050+02:00Until today I've never taught a lesson on Halloween. After running through the lesson once...twice...no, four times, it's really not all that more fun than say, teaching a Christmas or a Thanksgiving lesson. But there were some highlights from the lesson, including:<br /><br />1. when Jarka the policewoman physically chased three trick-or-treaters around the classroom when they threw four imaginary eggs at a stingy home-owner<br /><br />2. when I explained that ghosts say "boo" (which is what cows say in Czech)<br /><br />3. when Michal (a real-life smoker) gave me a cigarette lighter to lend a smidgen of realism to the jack-o-lantern drawn on the board<br /><br />4. when Jindra the dentist stuck an unidentifiable piece of metal about a foot-and-a-half long into naughty, candy-eating Jaromir's mouth (no actual tartar or tetanus found)<br /><br />5. when Ivana responded with "Give me candy" when I asked her what the children say on Halloween, before I did in fact give her a piece of candy<br /><br />6. when George, then Pavla, then Kamila pretended to bob for apples<br /><br />7. when Mira, another guilty egg-thrower, who was a Christmas tree for Halloween, obediently and quietly stood in jail for 5 minutes, still in costume<br /><br />8. when Zdenek the costume shop owner told Kamila, the eager and aspiring trick-or-treater, to go check out the restroom when she asked if he had any mummy costumes (i.e. toilet paper)<br /><br />I teach Halloween once more tomorrow morning, and then maybe once on Monday afternoon (Halloween day, come to think of it). Maybe I'll remember to take my camera for those, but this idea may be more trick than treat...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113014109249280538?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1130101981622083202005-10-23T22:57:00.000+02:002005-10-23T23:13:01.626+02:00An annoying feature of this particular blog service is that with each new post I must delete two or three anonymous comments left probably by computers that have figured their way around such things that are written in the style of some stranger who reads blogs and likes this one and cares. At least they care enough to point me to some great product or service at the other end of the attached link.<br /><br />I'm sorry if this post sounds like one of them.<br /><br />But I just boarded the Skype train this weekend, and except for a little digitizification of voices in my ear, it was quite a wholesome experience. To wit: a call to Prague and the lovely love of my life cost more than a call across the ocean to my lovely parents, but compared to last year, when I would make calls to the same lovely people every weekend, this cost pittance. Oh yes. Pittance. Plus I got to wear a sleek black headset that I bought at Tesco. It has a microphone and makes me look a little bit more like Garth Brooks.<br /><br />And from these phonecalls I learned that Chrissy also hates the expression "love on" (i.e. "Just go over to those kids and love on 'em, and when you're done, love on 'em some more.") and that my parents have yet another emergency room visit to laugh about. So technology just tells us what we already knew, I guess.<br /><br />Just cheaper.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-113010198162208320?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1129875877035773572005-10-21T08:23:00.000+02:002005-10-21T08:25:59.730+02:00Answer to my prayers, there was peace in the office this morning, and my colleagues were warm.<br /><br />Only in the back of my mind, a prize package from home was in my hands today and then under my desk and burning up waiting to be opened.<br /><br />Hefting my prize down the hall and the stairs, I stopped to na shledanou the porter, who wants to use his english whenever, and we had a patient conversation, two weak hands just grasping a conversation in two tongues.<br /><br />Setting my prize on the floor (it was a heavy prize and I couldn’t hold it leaning to balance anymore) I talked some more and the deputy director hand delivered me another card from home and an english teacher came and cleared up the conversation (but I had been right on without her, come to tell).<br /><br />Lugging my prize to the bus, my colleague and I rode home (the prize burning in my lap), talking about <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">england</st1:country-region></st1:place>, where I’ve never been, and how learning about a new place and living there are two different things.<br /><br />Hauling my prize off the bus and up the stairs, I saw the woman from church who is an angel and who speaks some english, too, standing in my building taking donations for second-hand sale for charity. Leaning to balance, I stopped to dobry den her and say we’ll see one another this sunday. And she said no, which is yes.<br /><br />And I opened my prize, finding all the possibilities for gingersnaps and a superchunky jar of skippy.<br /><br />It pours.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112987587703577357?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1129622996172127472005-10-18T09:55:00.000+02:002005-10-18T10:33:20.753+02:00<span style="font-size:100%;">It was the coleslaw that did me in.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />I decided that the coleslaw would be the best last bite: the one that sticks in your mouth as you’re getting up to leave the room. The potatoes weren’t dry and the minced chicken goo was much better than it looked, but the coleslaw was the kicker. I scraped some over to the side and began quickly stuffing the goo and potatoes into my mouth.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Czech men eat at an awesome speed. So quickly do they devour their lunches that there is still steam rising from the plate long after the food is gone. My boss, Frank, throws back our cafeteria lunches at this same alarming rate. I swear, I look away for one second, and his once plentiful rice has simply vanished.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />So last year I decided to race Frank to the finish. A grand prix lunch sprint, if you will, with potatoes and meat paste and sauerkraut for our course. In order for a lunch to qualify, Frank and I had to order the same selection <i style="">and </i>have the soup. Usually I skip the soup—that’s a lot of food—but once I go for the bowl, the race is on.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />I never once beat him. I took bigger bites. I stacked the meat and the cabbage together. I ate whole dumplings at once. I even quit chewing for a while. No good.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />But this year things started to turn around. I had my first victory early last month. It was a sauerkraut goulash with flour dumplings and the soup had liver in it. But I finished it all the same, and looked up to see Frank washing sauce over his last dumpling. Success. I returned to the office wearing a broad, secret smile.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />But my luck didn’t run out. I beat Frank to the finish twice more that week, proudly returning my clean plate and bowl to the window without a small stack in my hands. Two more lunches qualified the next week, and again, Frank was left to carry his own dishes.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />So I came into the cafeteria today riding a five-lunch winning streak. And, with my spirits high and my stomach empty, I eyed the soup...and picked up a clean bowl. It was on.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />I lapped it up quickly—Frank called it “pig slaughter soup,” and said that there was real pig’s blood in it; anywhere in America it would have been a well-laid trap, but soup that scabs is normal fare here—eyes on the prize, Joel, eyes on the prize. Frank was tilting the bowl to get the last bloody drops as my chair scraped loudly on the tile. It was me standing quickly to get in line for goo and potatoes. And as the cafeteria lady slopped on the meat, I took it as a good sign: the less the flavor, the less the savor—perfect conditions for a race.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />But I hadn’t anticipated the coleslaw. Sure enough, it was that flicker of canteen gourmet that erased my edge. There’s no place for thinking in a school cafeteria, and when I looked up to see my opponent, he was scooping the last of his goo onto his last potato. His coleslaw was halfway to his colon.</span><br /><br /><span style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">It was the taste of defeat that stuck in my mouth. Morosely, I stood to carry a pile of dishes to the window.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/1600/Donut%20Kluce.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7938/1649/320/Donut%20Kluce.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=""><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Pictured: That's Frank on the left, and on the right, my Czech English-teaching colleague, George, enjoying a nice sweet-lunch of dumplings and cream. Frank usually smiles.<br /><br /></span></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112962299617212747?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1129557037064827142005-10-17T15:28:00.000+02:002005-10-17T15:52:46.213+02:00<p class="MsoNormal">So last week on the bus I stood opposite a man who was supposed to be a cowboy. I looked down (he was sitting) at his nose, weathered like the <st1:place st="on">Badlands</st1:place>, and admired his Sam Elliot moustache, like sand in coffee. His hands gripped a leather case, but it might as well have been a saddle stripped fresh from the horse, hot with the sweat of a day’s ride.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was clear to me that this was a happy accident—that on a bus in Sokolov, where country music is the only thin link to the Old West, I saw a cowboy. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112955703706482714?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1129208225377342942005-10-13T14:43:00.000+02:002005-10-13T15:11:32.186+02:00So whenever I play a game in class, I always have each group come up with a team name in English. There's a level of convenience in doing things this way, but it's mostly for my own entertainment. Every round I get a lot of "The Sharks" and "Black Angels" and "Girls For God," but in about 12 months of teaching at ISŠTE, I've gotten some really terrific names. Here are some of my favorites:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tereza's Patriots</span> - <span style="font-style: italic;">and I don't really know if Tereza even knew what a patriot was</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Saturday</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span> - who chose "Monday" for themselves at first and then were downgraded first to "Friday" and then to "Saturday" when they refused to participate</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teletubbies</span> -<span style="font-style: italic;"> it's less the name that puts them here than that they laughed and clapped like little gnomes whenever they scored</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Worm</span> - <span style="font-style: italic;">yeah, I had to ask them like three times if they were serious</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shark Killers</span> - <span style="font-style: italic;">whose opponents were The Sharks, incidentally</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Žlutice</span> - <span style="font-style: italic;">so I compromised on the English rule...and because it means "Yellowtown"</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Phoebe </span>- <span style="font-style: italic;">this one came today, and I hope she reads this</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Viva Saskatchewan!</span> -<span style="font-style: italic;"> I almost just called them the winners right then and there</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112920822537734294?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1129125217950454842005-10-12T15:38:00.000+02:002005-10-12T15:53:37.956+02:00So there are probably a million different ways to tell if an artwork is a good one. Perhaps some day I'll write down here the things that draw me to certain artists---be they writers or painters or singers or other such makers of beauty. But one thing pretty much always seals the deal for me:<br /><br />When a work of art makes me itch deep down and either grab a pen to try and make something beautiful myself or just burn that I didn't make it first---that is a beautiful work of art.<br /><br />I didn't write this song. But a lot of things I've written were planted by it. It's by a pretty great singer named Andrew Peterson. I hope someday you can listen to it. It's really quite beautiful.<br /><br /> I wanna open up my eyes<br />And see a more beautiful world<br />Let the hand of God Almighty<br />Sweep his colors through my life<br />I wanna hold tight to the laughter<br />And ride it like a child<br />On the winds that billow joyful<br />Through the sky<br /><br />I wanna open up my heart<br />But you know, sometimes it's hard to find<br />Because I've buried it beneath the selfishness<br />That I've hidden behind<br />I wanna stand my ground unshaken<br />But I wanna tremble when I kneel<br />And let my song remain unbroken<br />Through the tears<br /><i><br />So let me sing for the love<br />Let me love for the lost<br />Let me lose all I have<br />For what I found on the cross<br />Let me trust you with my life<br />Let me live to give you praise<br />Lord, let me praise you<br />For the grace by which I'm saved<br />Lord, let me sing</i><br /><br />I wanna open up Your word<br />And let the thirsty enter in<br />So they can drink deep of the water<br />You've given to them<br />I want to run the race with vigor<br />I want to fight the fight with strength<br />And let my song rise from a whisper<br />To a scream<br /><br />I wanna open up my arms<br />And embrace that old rugged cross<br />I wanna take pride in the reason<br />And be humbled by the cause<br />And when this lisping, stamm'ring tongue<br />Lies silent in the grave<br />Then in a nobler, sweeter song,<br />I'll sing your praise<br />I'll sing your praise<br /><br /><i>So let me sing for the love<br />Let me love for the lost<br />Let me lose all I have<br />For what I found on the cross<br />Let me trust you with my life<br />Let me live to give you praise<br />Lord, let me praise you<br />For the grace by which I'm saved<br />Lord, let me sing</i><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112912521795045484?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1129037877274020172005-10-11T15:26:00.000+02:002005-10-11T15:37:57.280+02:00A good thing about coming back to ISŠTE for year two is that there's less distraction of figuring out how to do, well, everything. A bad thing about this is that with less distraction, you're more aware of how you are a part of The System which people use---often against one another, and often without you really knowing the extent of it. And there's not really much you can do about it.<br /><br />So we foreigners miss a lot, sure. But often what we see is the fly under your nose.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112903787727402017?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1128932266269159412005-10-10T10:17:00.000+02:002005-10-10T10:26:10.766+02:00<p class="MsoNormal">So this weekend the West Bohemia Social Club put on an event for twenty ESI teachers from across the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Czech Republic</st1:place></st1:country-region>. Honza the hamster was also present. We dubbed the event “A WestBodacious Weekend.” And bodacious it was:<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/47/8096/640/Group%20Pic%20in%20Loket.jpg"><img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/47/8096/400/Group%20Pic%20in%20Loket.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With so many people, everyone’s take on the WestBodacious is bound to be different. Here’s some slices from the weekend that I had:</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A Friday rendezvous in Cheb prolonged the Great Streak: every single time I’ve been to Cheb I’ve eaten pizza. Viva la streak!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We had overnight guests for the first time in the new flat: five guys laid out on the floor, packed tighter than sausages and just as greasy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A scrumptious breakfast (special acknowledgement to Kevin Dickson, BMK and Jihavlanka coffee grounds) preceded a trolley car ride to Loket, where Mike Harvey stole a terrific picture right out from under my nose. While we were visiting the torture chamber in the castle, Hank had some problems with the ticket lady:<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/47/8096/640/IMG_5686.jpg"><img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/47/8096/400/IMG_5686.jpg" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last year’s Canadian Thanksgiving feast produced a terrific picture of us mid-air, jumping in Sokolov’s <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Old Square</st1:address></st1:street>. I maintain it is perhaps the best picture I have ever been a part of. This year we remembered the occasion by expanding the idea to eight jumpers in Loket’s old square. This one is just more fun:<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/47/8096/640/The%20Big%20Jump.jpg"><img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/47/8096/400/The%20Big%20Jump.jpg" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I spent Saturday afternoon with my friend Matt Smith in Sokolov, enjoying conversation and my first viewing of <i style="">The Italian Job</i>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Met up with the boys in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Karlovy Vary</st1:place></st1:city> for some dinner—pizza again! At least everybody can agree to pizza.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the walk home to the flat, a high-speed police chase passed us on the streets of Sokolov. It’s a wonder that police mini-van kept as much ground as it did...</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We messed around and talked, then bundled up, falling asleep to my second viewing of <i style="">The Italian Job</i>.<o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The guys caught a train early Sunday morning, returning to their homes for church and chilling. My sweet Chrissy hung around for church and lunch, and for the afternoon, where I had my third viewing of <i style="">The Italian Job</i>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>I really need to get some more movies.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112893226626915941?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1128884429233732972005-10-09T20:57:00.000+02:002005-10-09T21:00:29.240+02:00So I walked into a packed church this morning. And yes, this was noteworthy. The Czech Brethren Evangelicky church in Sokolov has a number of warm spots. A full sanctuary is usually not one of them. Come to think of it, the sanctuary itself isn’t all that warm. Huh.<br /><br />The Czech Republic is known among missions organizations as one of the most atheistic countries in the world. Communism, fascism, imperialism and now capitalism have not been kind to the Czech church, to point the ism finger. West Bohemia in particular seems to be the darker corner of the country, with up to 75% or more of the people considering themselves atheists, to pull a statistic more or less from thin air. You get the idea.<br /><br />Across town the Hussite church is having repairs done on their church building, so they need a place to hold service for the next two weeks. So this Sunday, two communities met together to worship. The fellowship hall (where we gathered) was full of voices as we sang together, and as the Hussite group interspersed parts of their sung liturgy into the service.<br /><br />Next weekend, Czech Brethren’s sister church celebrates its 100th year, so all the sister churches will gather in Kynsperk just-up-river. The Hussites will meet in our Sokolov building, and I, unfortunately, will be in Prague on ESI business. It’s rough wanting to be in three places at once.<br /><br />But this morning it was good to be with God’s community. Even though I didn’t know half of the faces there. Even though I didn’t get three quarters of what was said. Even though I couldn’t jump the language barrier and talk to the people there. I may never worship with some of these brothers and sisters until the Last Day that Pastor spoke about, but this Sunday it was good to be there.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112888442923373297?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1128492205822589332005-10-05T08:02:00.000+02:002005-10-05T08:03:25.826+02:00<p class="MsoNormal">by Joel, B.A. English, TEFL certificate, reader of brochures</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>John Steinbeck is the greatest 20^th century American novelist. And I haven’t even read <i style="">The Grapes of Wrath</i>. Yet.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>I have thought so for some time, but recent reflection has reminded me that I am right.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">First, that I read <i style="">Cannery Row</i> in one (albeit rather long) train ride and enjoyed it tremendously. Second, that <i style="">Cannery Row</i> (and other such Steinbeck fictions) does not set out to be clever, but just to weave together some stories about a particular community of people (and one gopher) who live in a particular place, which I think is a more honest way of looking at the world. Third, he wrote <i style="">East of Eden</i>, probably the best book anybody could ever read.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As an English major, and more importantly, as a writer of a blog, I declare the niceties of rhetoric moot except as I have decided to use them to the advantage of my argument. This is the rhetorical equivalent of a raspberry. Do not argue with a writer of blogs. It will only compound the nonsense, no matter how slick your Socratic method, no matter how sharp your Occam’s razor, no matter how plentiful your rhetorical allusions.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>So there.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112849220582258933?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1128406684850639892005-10-04T08:17:00.000+02:002005-10-04T08:22:57.626+02:00<p class="MsoNormal">So this weekend I left my industrial paradise in Sokolov and crossed this wide country Americans like to compare to <st1:state st="on">South Carolina</st1:state> (size-wise, that is) to visit the Big O: <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ostrava</st1:place></st1:city>, the industrial paradise of Czech industrial paradises.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>As industrial paradises go, <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ostrava</st1:place></st1:city> certainly has a lot to offer. A particular all-night chicken sandwich stand run by immigrants comes to mind. And also a victory statue of a tank. Other European cities have victory statues with men on horses. <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ostrava</st1:place></st1:city> is more modern and more realistic.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The purpose of my trip was to visit with the ESI teachers serving in the opposite corner of the country as me, to see how they’re doing, to share some time together, and to let them cook me some delicious food. Someone once said that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I say: yes, and you can have my money, too.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">One highlight of the trip was meeting the Christian community that these ESI teachers are a part of through Fishnet, the Christian language school/service where they teach. I’d always heard about how different an experience the Fishnet ESIers have from the rest of us (as useless as such comparisons are). Well, it’s the truth. They’re a part of something great that God’s doing out there. And so are we, when you step back to a better perspective.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Out there in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ostrava</st1:place></st1:city>, I mean. And not that we aren’t part of something God’s doing right where we are, either. Oh, bother. “All the time, God is good,” or whatever you say at a time like this.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Other highlights were doing general nonsense with the notorious Kevin Dickson (himself), visiting Ostrava’s infamous Stodolni Street, and going to a concert to see the director of Fishnet’s band (whose infamy is growing) perform original English songs to a festival crowd hungry for more. They’re climbing the charts in this country, you know—and their band name means “little balls of happiness.” Indeed they are.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Much business also occurred. This business was not yours, so I will not bore you with it.<o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That’s what the rest of this blog is for.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112840668485063989?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1128406614391459802005-10-04T08:06:00.000+02:002005-10-04T08:16:54.396+02:00<p class="MsoNormal">This "grandma" as the locals call an "indian" summer is definitely on its way out. I've been watching the woody hills our balcony looks onto and I swear that just today the deep green has lost as many as a dozen shades in some broad strips. A giant pencil has been rubbing them, eraser-down, all day, scattering curled flecks of color into the thick clouds bunched up overhead. Some baker has been sifting yellow sugar onto the trees directly beneath my window. I want the one next to the playground; it's gotten an extra helping and is sure to taste it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I eat dinner every night to the death of flies. My windows are broad and clean and the flat is warm, and the flies moved in before I brought in the first box. Just how they got in here I haven't figured out yet. If I buzzed just right I could ask them where the OPEN sign is and then snoop around for the off-switch, but I don't think they remember, honestly. All day long they're beating against the glass, ignoring the peaches and apples on the window sill, trying to get back outside. After one or two days of this, the flies are quite done in are drop to the table, where I eat my scrambled-egg burritos and watch them pass into the next life.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Some of the flies go quickly, falling off the window and directly into that deep sleep of the ages. Others are more theatrical, writhing on the stage like a six-legged Desdemona. I imagine them on their backs balancing a beach ball, turning it round and round, willing the show to go on. I return later that night or for breakfast the next morning and there they lie, as though the weight of the beach ball eventually became too much. Someone has removed the beach ball overnight and left the body as a warning to those still beating their wings against the window.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last week I saw a woman pluck a fly right off the glass on a bus the three of us were riding. She got hold of it by the wings and proceded to fling it out the opening in the window one seat ahead. Since then I've taken to treating the flies in the same way, leaving them distracted by all that view they want so badly through the window and plucking them off as if they were seedless grapes. Then I eat them.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Okay, that was just for shock. I really just open the balcony door and fling them out to their freedom, or mine, depending on your point of view. It's not so much that I'm afraid that they'll eventually discover my peaches and apples, it's just that you can only take so much death when you're trying to eat scrambled-egg burritos.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112840661439145980?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1127978333027170252005-09-29T09:14:00.000+02:002005-09-29T09:18:53.036+02:00<p class="MsoNormal">Here's the latest edition of the newsletter I email out periodically to friends and supporters back home. For those of you who crave such accuracy, I actually live on the 12th floor...Europeans push floor numbers up one by including a "ground floor" in every building.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br />A Clean, Well-Lit Place (Notes from the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Czech</st1:PlaceName> <st1:placetype st="on">Republic</st1:PlaceType></st1:place>)<br />September 29, 2005<span style=""> </span>—<span style=""> </span>(29. zari 2005)</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just like I thought it would be, our move to the new apartment was like jumping into a mountain river from a high rock—you swear it’ll never happen, you push down fear because someone’s making you do it, and when it’s all over you wonder why you didn’t do it sooner.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Given that we now live thirteen floors up, maybe jumping is a poor analogy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But it’s been almost two weeks since Hank and I “took the plunge” into our new place on the other side of town. It wasn’t our idea to move, mind you—my school, which owned the old apartment, decided last April that the building wasn’t useful to them anymore, and a drain on the budget. I preferred to think of it as “home.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But it seems that ESI’s mantra—“low expectations”—has gone bust again: except for being on the other side of town, a good half-hour walk to school instead of a five-minute one, the new place is clean and bright and cozy. We’re closer to where Beth and Christie live, we’re surrounded by four grocery stores, and in a few months we’ll have an enviable view as below our windows construction begins on the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Czech</st1:PlaceName> <st1:placetype st="on">Republic</st1:PlaceType></st1:place>’s newest Tesco, sort of a European version of Wal-Mart.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve posted pictures of our new place on Webshots for those of you brave enough to click this link: <span style=""><a href="http://community.webshots.com/user/aguaviva312">http://community.webshots.com/user/aguaviva312</a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last week we finished our first month in Sokolov this year, and let me tell you it’s been great to be back. When I arrived here this time last year I was new to the scene, unknown and ignored for the most part. Over the year I met a whole bunch of great people and made some good friends. So coming back this year, no longer a stranger, I was overwhelmed with people happy to see me back. I hadn’t been expecting that.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And even though it’s been a bit lonely at times being the only foreign teacher at ISSTE this year, it’s already apparent that God has a different plan there this year. What that plan is, perhaps future newsletters may tell, but for now I’m carrying on like I learned how last year—the main difference so far being: this time I start the year with a good idea of what I’m doing, instead of stumbling along until March or so before things start clicking.<o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m continuing with a lot of things I started last year, teaching a few of the same classes, meeting for English conversation weekly with a few adult friends, “playing” indoor soccer with some fat Czech men, attending a local church all in Czech. I’m also doing some new things this year, including teaching lots of new classes, serving the Czech ESI team in an administrative role, and eating the strange new foods my new roommate keeps finding at the grocery store.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Things are rolling! And God is proving His faithfulness every day! And it seems that every new day brings a new opportunity to share His light with the people around me. If you’re still praying for us in Sokolov, here are some specific needs we have:<o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span style="">·<span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->For continued good health</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span style="">·<span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->For my students—including Cody (who asks questions about God), Petr (who “disturbs” me in my office every week), and Jana (who kicks my butt at chess every time)</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span style="">·<span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->For the new teachers that I’m serving this year as an administrator, that I would love them with Christ’s love</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span style="">·<span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->For Hank and Christie as they adjust to new schools, a new community and a new culture in Sokolov</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span style="">·<span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->For the armor of God in a real spiritual battlefield</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span style="">·<span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->For a foundation of grace in the new ESI community—both on Team Sokolov and among the greater Czech team</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is where I usually say “thanks again for praying.” But I really do mean it. Thanks. God has been answering so many specific prayers over here this month, from silly “little” requests like getting out of pointless meetings to “big” ones like arranging our move into a new home. Trust God in prayer this month and tell people about His faithfulness—it’s an important part of<o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Making Him Important,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Joel</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112797833302717025?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1127826332799462002005-09-27T14:50:00.000+02:002005-09-27T15:23:58.383+02:00So "cesky sen" is the locals' take on "Czech dream."<br /><br />A few years ago, there was a reality tv show in the Czech Republic called Cesky Sen. It documented all kinds of peoples' reactions to the opening of a mammoth hyper-market in downtown Prague called, appropriately: Cesky Sen. It was a marketing blitzkrieg, and people were hyped up. Everyone wanted to be there when the big tarps came down when the meaning of the Czech dream would be revealed.<br /><br />But it was all a sham. It was some filmmaker's study on marketing and greed, image and discourse. And it was a pretty nifty piece of trickery, if you ask me. Needless to say, the tricked were not amused when the tarps came down over empty scaffolding. A bit too cynical for my tastes, really.<br /><br />So I guess by this you could read-in that this whole blog is a sham, a skeleton robed in fleshless promises. Probably.<br /><br />My cesky sen has all the trappings of a sham. It's full of promises and people leading and being led on, shadows and mirrors, and the occasional hard slap of truth. It's faith, you see, and when you go out for something with faith in mind, I can't blame anyone much for saying it's a sham.<br /><br />But have you tried it?<br /><br />Now that was a fine bit of philosophy. Let's hope the rest is more genuine.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112782633279946200?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17178791.post-1127825375343844372005-09-27T14:42:00.000+02:002005-09-27T15:06:51.293+02:00So most good blogs always start with a disclaimer like this:<br /><br />"So blogs are pretty dumb, I guess, but here goes."<br /><br />So in the name of good form, I follow suit, and worse: this is in fact my second blog. You can visit my original blog at www.xanga.com/spf50. In order to keep in touch with my "target audience," most of these posts will be "simulcast" in HDTV on xanga. I've started a blogspot account because of disenchantment, mostly. And because I saw you can put pictures up here.<br /><br />Another way to complicate my life and waste time, if you think about it. But that's my last apology. On with the next post.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17178791-112782537534384437?l=czechdream.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Joelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12381326215770839565noreply@blogger.com0