So, I have arrived, after what ended up being a long and interesting 17 or so hours of travel. My first flight wasn't bad at all; I sat next to a man who also had pretzel M&Ms and we ate them while discussing travel tips and business trips to Athens.
The second flight... Well, it was an adventure.
It started out great- we left on time, I had the third Hunger Games book to read (which is fantastic), and I sat next an adorable couple who literally spent ten minutes discussing how the movie "How to Train Your Dragon" was basically just like "Lassie"...minus the CGI... and the Viking-era setting... and the storyline. There was also an old man diagonally in front of me who was the only one in his row until the last two people boarded the plane- two girls in their twenties or so. He moved so they could get in, shot the woman he was standing next to a knowing look, and said, "Well, could've done worse."
Then we had to turn around mid-flight so someone could get medical attention. We waited at a strange airport for about three hours in the middle of the night before we were cleared for take-off again, which ended up delaying the flight by almost four hours. Not fun.
After I got through customs and claimed my baggage, I went looking for the bus stop. It took about three airport employees and one cheerful policeman to get me going in the right direction, but I got there. I would have pictures of the amazing countryside, but I was literally nodding off every five minutes and had no energy to dig around in my bag for my camera.
Basically: you know how in movies, Ireland always looks like a giant patchwork quilt of greens and browns? Well, it looks like that in real life, too.
Sorry this is unedited and hastily written, but I have to go. More coming soon!
Friday, August 27, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
So long, America
So, I'm leaving. Today. I'll be at the airport in about an hour.
I have no time, otherwise I would expound upon what I'm feeling.
...So now, I guess it's goodbye America, hello Ireland!
I have no time, otherwise I would expound upon what I'm feeling.
...So now, I guess it's goodbye America, hello Ireland!
Monday, August 23, 2010
Sisters, Goodbyes, the Oregon Trail, and Cookie Dough (among other things)
First order of business:
My youngest sister is starting high school on Wednesday.
I can't believe it. She's only in sixth grade with pigtails and braces and blaring Taylor Swift CDs from an old boom box!... At least, she is in my head.
And now she's supposed to go to high school! She's going to step onto the campus on Wednesday with a purpose other than a football game or band concert! Boys are going to chase after her! Girls are going to be petty and mean to her! Teachers are going to dump more projects than should be allowed on her! This is madness!
Yeah, I know she'll be all right. Better than all right, actually. She's so much cooler and better prepared than I ever was or could have been. She's got several good friends (and a couple not-as-good ones, but hey, who doesn't have those), a lot of common sense, motivation, and an amazingly strong trust in the Lord. High school might be mean to her, but she'll respond to it with the sweetness and grace and love that has attracted people to her since she was little. I know that she's going to shine (to use a typical high school cliche) at Myers Park and come out on top. But she's my little sister; I'm just praying her wonderful innocence doesn't go away, at least not completely.
Suzanne, if you're reading this, which you very well might be... I love you. I always have and always will, and there is nothing you could do to change that. If you ever need anything, let me know. You're so amazing and I wish I could be a little more like you. If I could give you any advice for high school that you might actually remember, it would be this: Listen to the little voice in your head, never lose sight of the faithfulness of God, try not to judge, take a break once in awhile, and don't ever stop in the middle of a hallway during a class change. I love you to the moon and back, mah seestur.
Second order of business:
Goodbyes.
They suck.
Just saying.
Third order of business:
One of my best friends since middle school came over tonight for a few hours. We hung out in my room as we finished our other friend's (extremely belated) birthday present, ate cookie dough, and I played Oregon Trail on her iPhone.
You see, I was one of those few deprived American children who had always heard about, but never actually played, The Oregon Trail game. The sad thing is, I would have loved it. I'm a sucker for those strategy-survival games, especially anything based in frontier America in the 1800s (what can I say, I'm a Little House book reader through and through). I discovered two useful life skills as I played that game: (1) I am actually pretty good at pounding nails, and (2) I can survive a bear assault for LONGER than 30 seconds, while making kung fu noises. Shazam. Beat that.
And lastly:
Two days until I leave. TWO DAYS!
I have so much to do, and so little time...*
Another post coming soon, probably about my wonderful pre-senior year reflections. Be prepared.
*...(Does anyone else ever think of that scene in the original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie whenever that is said? I do)...
My youngest sister is starting high school on Wednesday.
I can't believe it. She's only in sixth grade with pigtails and braces and blaring Taylor Swift CDs from an old boom box!... At least, she is in my head.
And now she's supposed to go to high school! She's going to step onto the campus on Wednesday with a purpose other than a football game or band concert! Boys are going to chase after her! Girls are going to be petty and mean to her! Teachers are going to dump more projects than should be allowed on her! This is madness!
Yeah, I know she'll be all right. Better than all right, actually. She's so much cooler and better prepared than I ever was or could have been. She's got several good friends (and a couple not-as-good ones, but hey, who doesn't have those), a lot of common sense, motivation, and an amazingly strong trust in the Lord. High school might be mean to her, but she'll respond to it with the sweetness and grace and love that has attracted people to her since she was little. I know that she's going to shine (to use a typical high school cliche) at Myers Park and come out on top. But she's my little sister; I'm just praying her wonderful innocence doesn't go away, at least not completely.
Suzanne, if you're reading this, which you very well might be... I love you. I always have and always will, and there is nothing you could do to change that. If you ever need anything, let me know. You're so amazing and I wish I could be a little more like you. If I could give you any advice for high school that you might actually remember, it would be this: Listen to the little voice in your head, never lose sight of the faithfulness of God, try not to judge, take a break once in awhile, and don't ever stop in the middle of a hallway during a class change. I love you to the moon and back, mah seestur.
Second order of business:
Goodbyes.
They suck.
Just saying.
Third order of business:
One of my best friends since middle school came over tonight for a few hours. We hung out in my room as we finished our other friend's (extremely belated) birthday present, ate cookie dough, and I played Oregon Trail on her iPhone.
You see, I was one of those few deprived American children who had always heard about, but never actually played, The Oregon Trail game. The sad thing is, I would have loved it. I'm a sucker for those strategy-survival games, especially anything based in frontier America in the 1800s (what can I say, I'm a Little House book reader through and through). I discovered two useful life skills as I played that game: (1) I am actually pretty good at pounding nails, and (2) I can survive a bear assault for LONGER than 30 seconds, while making kung fu noises. Shazam. Beat that.
And lastly:
Two days until I leave. TWO DAYS!
I have so much to do, and so little time...*
Another post coming soon, probably about my wonderful pre-senior year reflections. Be prepared.
*...(Does anyone else ever think of that scene in the original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie whenever that is said? I do)...
Saturday, August 21, 2010
International Chorus
Note: From July 17th-26th this summer, I was a member of something called the Youthcue International Chorus. Basically it's a program through the Youthcue organization (website: www.youthcue.org )where students, ages 15-20, from all over the US (and Canada) audition/apply and are selected to go on a ten-day trip together. Most of the students have never met any of the others, unless they've been on previous trips. The program also teaches leadership skills in hopes that the students will return home better prepared to emerge as leaders in their home churches and choirs. The tour this past year was to French Canada, specifically Quebec City and Montreal. It was extremely meaningful to me, and when I got home my choir director asked me to write a report about it for a committee at my church. It's not the best thing I've ever written by any means, but it's something that meant a lot to me and that I wanted to share, so here a few excerpts...
"During the weeks leading up to this thing called 'International Chorus', I found myself alternating between excitement and anxiety. Committing ten whole days of my summer to thirty other students that I had never met before in my life was definitely outside of my comfort zone. But as it turns out, taking that leap of faith resulted in ten days of making music and being swept up into God's presence with thirty students whom I will never forget.
It took me the entire first day of the trip to realize that I had come into this experience with the automatic assumption that it was going to be something like a youth choir trip on steroids. It didn't take me nearly as long to figure out how wrong I was. There's so much I want to say about my time with the Youthcue International Chorus (or INC), but it's hard to squash ten days of incredible fellowship and stories into a few hundred words. I wish I could communicate how much fun it was to bond with each other while sitting in a boiling hotel lobby, watching one of the worst Asian action movies I have ever seen, on the French channel. I wish I could put into words my love for the music we learned, or the warmth of the blend that the chorus had. I wish I had a dozen pages to try and describe to you one of the grey stone cathedrals with centuries-old stained glass windows and a seven-second echo. I really wish I could tell everyone about playing ninja on the metro, being let loose for hours at a time in cities that felt more European than North American, playing Barzilian Uno just outside the elevators, and nearly getting lost in Quebec City while trying to fine the Cirque du Soleil. I wish I could explain the fun of jet-boating in the freezing rapids of the Saint Lawrence River, why Montreal bus mirrors could be dangerous, what to do if shot with a dart by your fellow singers, and how handing out food for four hours at the Family Distribution Center just might earn you a shirt with the name "Fonzie" still attached to it. I wish I could tell you a lot more than I can in this one report...
...I remember the first night pretty clearly. we had just finished up our first rehearsal together, and we were sitting down as a group for our introductory leadership session with our director, Randy Edwards. One of the first things he said struck me deeply.
'Look around this room," he said. "This trip will be the last time that this specific group will ever sing together again on this earth." The truth of that statement surprised me. What he said was right- we had students from all over the continent, and while some of us might reunite once in awhile in small groups, it would be virtually impossible for this same chorus to ever sing together again. To me, it made the trip seem much more precious, especially as it drew to a close. I will never be able to express the deep gratitude I feel for having this opportunity to travel with the INC. Every single singer in the chorus and every adult who was present ministered to me so much throughout the trip. I want ot say thank you to Randy Edwards, Lois Gagne, and everyone else involved with the International Chorus for making it happen; and thank you to everyone who helped to get me there. Maybe most of all, thank you to all the students I met there- I hope to see you all again.This trip was my first; God willing, it will not be my last..."
So, yeah. I really wish I could still be on that trip, with those people. I miss them all a ton.
Sorry for the sentimentality, I just felt like sharing this.
"During the weeks leading up to this thing called 'International Chorus', I found myself alternating between excitement and anxiety. Committing ten whole days of my summer to thirty other students that I had never met before in my life was definitely outside of my comfort zone. But as it turns out, taking that leap of faith resulted in ten days of making music and being swept up into God's presence with thirty students whom I will never forget.
It took me the entire first day of the trip to realize that I had come into this experience with the automatic assumption that it was going to be something like a youth choir trip on steroids. It didn't take me nearly as long to figure out how wrong I was. There's so much I want to say about my time with the Youthcue International Chorus (or INC), but it's hard to squash ten days of incredible fellowship and stories into a few hundred words. I wish I could communicate how much fun it was to bond with each other while sitting in a boiling hotel lobby, watching one of the worst Asian action movies I have ever seen, on the French channel. I wish I could put into words my love for the music we learned, or the warmth of the blend that the chorus had. I wish I had a dozen pages to try and describe to you one of the grey stone cathedrals with centuries-old stained glass windows and a seven-second echo. I really wish I could tell everyone about playing ninja on the metro, being let loose for hours at a time in cities that felt more European than North American, playing Barzilian Uno just outside the elevators, and nearly getting lost in Quebec City while trying to fine the Cirque du Soleil. I wish I could explain the fun of jet-boating in the freezing rapids of the Saint Lawrence River, why Montreal bus mirrors could be dangerous, what to do if shot with a dart by your fellow singers, and how handing out food for four hours at the Family Distribution Center just might earn you a shirt with the name "Fonzie" still attached to it. I wish I could tell you a lot more than I can in this one report...
...I remember the first night pretty clearly. we had just finished up our first rehearsal together, and we were sitting down as a group for our introductory leadership session with our director, Randy Edwards. One of the first things he said struck me deeply.
'Look around this room," he said. "This trip will be the last time that this specific group will ever sing together again on this earth." The truth of that statement surprised me. What he said was right- we had students from all over the continent, and while some of us might reunite once in awhile in small groups, it would be virtually impossible for this same chorus to ever sing together again. To me, it made the trip seem much more precious, especially as it drew to a close. I will never be able to express the deep gratitude I feel for having this opportunity to travel with the INC. Every single singer in the chorus and every adult who was present ministered to me so much throughout the trip. I want ot say thank you to Randy Edwards, Lois Gagne, and everyone else involved with the International Chorus for making it happen; and thank you to everyone who helped to get me there. Maybe most of all, thank you to all the students I met there- I hope to see you all again.This trip was my first; God willing, it will not be my last..."
So, yeah. I really wish I could still be on that trip, with those people. I miss them all a ton.
Sorry for the sentimentality, I just felt like sharing this.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
My Thunder Has Been Stolen
Last night, my dad's side of the family got together for the first time in awhile to celebrate my grandmother's birthday. The night consisted of vulture dip, fun stories, morbid birthday cards, gator rides, and fireworks bought in South Carolina (where they are actually legal). The whole occasion was bittersweet, as it was the last family gathering before many of the cousins (myself included) began to go in vastly different directions. Coming home, I was inspired to write a blog about how much my family has meant to me, particularly my cousin Sarah. Too tired to write anything last night, I put it off until today.
Little did I know, my thunder was stolen in the night.
Yes, my delightfully awesome cousin Sarah has beaten me to it and written about us already on her own blog, which you can find here:
http://saraharant.blogspot.com/
I would put in my own two cents, but she has a very witty way with words (ha, alliteration for the win-) which I will not even try to contest with.
In other words, go to her blog and check it out.
Little did I know, my thunder was stolen in the night.
Yes, my delightfully awesome cousin Sarah has beaten me to it and written about us already on her own blog, which you can find here:
http://saraharant.blogspot.com/
I would put in my own two cents, but she has a very witty way with words (ha, alliteration for the win-) which I will not even try to contest with.
In other words, go to her blog and check it out.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Note: This Is Not an Introduction
I hate introductions. I feel awkward and weird trying to write about myself, so I'm not going to. Therefore, this will not be an introduction. I'm just going to jump straight in.
So, I leave for possibly the greenest place on earth in 12 days. That's really soon. It's been a really long road getting here, so to finally be able to say, "I'm leaving" is a huge relief. I can't wait until I get to meet my host family in person and go walking through the town hearing Irish accents everywhere; I can't wait to be able to say to people, "I learned to surf in Ireland in the middle of autumn", and get the chance to be in another country as a resident, not just a tourist.
I will admit to being scared. Very scared. Terrified, actually. But the Lord is good, and he has great plans for this semester- I can feel it.
So, twelve days from now I'll officially be in the land of leprechauns and shamrocks with six long months stretching out in front of me, during which I get to explore one of the countries I have dreamed about my whole life. To say I'm excited might be the understatement of the year.
So, I leave for possibly the greenest place on earth in 12 days. That's really soon. It's been a really long road getting here, so to finally be able to say, "I'm leaving" is a huge relief. I can't wait until I get to meet my host family in person and go walking through the town hearing Irish accents everywhere; I can't wait to be able to say to people, "I learned to surf in Ireland in the middle of autumn", and get the chance to be in another country as a resident, not just a tourist.
I will admit to being scared. Very scared. Terrified, actually. But the Lord is good, and he has great plans for this semester- I can feel it.
So, twelve days from now I'll officially be in the land of leprechauns and shamrocks with six long months stretching out in front of me, during which I get to explore one of the countries I have dreamed about my whole life. To say I'm excited might be the understatement of the year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)