Sabbath Tango

The Wonder of La Mezquita

2010-10-27T14:14:00.005-04:00

If ever a place on earth can truly convey the concept of infinity, La Mezquita in Cordoba, Spain comes closest. This huge mosque was the jewel of Western Islam from the late 700's when it's construction was begun by the Caliph Abd Al-Rahman when he assumed rule over Moorish Spain in Cordoba until 1236 when the Christian King Ferdinand III conquered Cordoba and reclaimed the city for Christian Spain. It is truly an amazing building and beyond inspiring! Even with the changes to it brought by the Catholic Christians (closing off many of the entrances, especially those that led in from the Courtyard of Orange Trees, by the construction of private family chapels by those wishing to be buried within the walls of what became a Christian house of worship, along with the building of a giant cathedral right in the middle of the mosque) it is still a wonder to behold. There is nothing else I have ever experienced which has conveyed such a sense of wonder and mystery.

With its sea of columns in muted shades of rose and blue, a ceiling that is only 30 feet high, yet broken up by double arches of red brick and white stone so that it feels even lower, and simple floors of stone or brick it conveys a sense of the embracing, sheltering presence of God. It is the complete opposite of everything a cathedral attempts to communicate. Cathedrals stretch upward, striving to reach heaven, extending the gaze upward toward a distant God. Cathedrals want to remind us of the majesty, wonder, awesome might, grandeur, and power of a God who is both Creator and Sovereign, Ruler and Judge over the Universe.

That is not the sort of place where I worship at home. It is not the type of place which draws me closer to God and evokes within me a sense of God's presence and love. I can be moved by the awe-inspiring works of God in the world - Yosemite Valley, the Grand Canyon, mountains rising to the skies, plains and oceans stretching to the horizon - but it is in the quite times in my own closet, the serene times in a forest glade or by a mountain stream, in the small chapels and simple churches where I am most aware that God is with me. It is in these close, intimate, womb-like spaces where I receive the assurance again that I am beloved by God, that I am not alone in this huge, often cold and impersonal world, but God is watching over me, protecting me, and embracing me in love.

La Mezquita in Cordoba embodies that for me.

Surprises and connections realized in Madrid

2010-10-22T17:26:00.003-04:00

Rising above the city of Madrid, overlooking the Royal Palace and the Cathedral, we discovered Egypt in the middle of Spain! In 1968 the Egyptian government made a gift to the Spanish government for their help in rescuing monuments that had been threatened by the rising Nile waters above the Aswan Dam. What a gift! They bestowed upon the city of Madrid and entire Egyptian Temple first erected about 200 B.C.

What an experience, walking the rooms of Templo de Debod felt as though we had suddenly shifted our trip from the hills of Madrid to the banks of the Nile River. The temple was erected to honor the gods Amun and Isis and including side chapels for Osiris and Horus and others. The temple was actually expanded by Emperors Julius & Augustus Caesar after they had conquered and made trips to Egypt. How wild to think: yesterday we walked streets where Romans had walked, followed by Visigoths (who ruled Toledo and most of Spain after Rome fell), as well as many of the earliest monarchs of the Spanish empire, and even Miquel de Cervantes; and now today we walked on stones where the feet of priests and Pharaohs had walked as well as Julius Caesar and Caesar Augustus! What connections we are making with our physical presence in this ancient and amazing land.

After the Egyptian Temple we entered the massive halls built as a temple to human pride, vanity, and obscene wealth and power as we walked through the second floor of the Royal Palace (Palacio Real). The third largest palace in Europe, after Versailles and Vienna's Schonbrunn, the similarities to Versailles are everywhere evident. That should not be surprising since the palace was commissioned in the 18th century by King Philip V. Though he ruled Spain for 40 years, he was very French. (The grandson of Louis XIV, he was born in Versailles and preferred speaking French.) His wife was originally from Italy and her influence is very evident as well, especially in many of the interior frescoes, ceilings, and other decorative flourishes. The palace is huge, with more than 2,000 rooms and though you only tour 24 in the public tour that is more than enough opulence and over-the-top wealth to convey the majesty and power of the Spanish royalty.

While the current King & Queen do not reside in the Palace, living in a mansion a few miles away, this place still functions as a royal palace, and is used for formal state receptions, royal weddings and funerals, and special state occasions (such as when Spain officially joined the European Union the signing ceremony took place in the Hall of Columns.) We walked on the Grand Stair up which all guests walk when arriving for state functions. We cannot remember, but I am sure we trod the same steps some of our Presidents have walked, possible President Bush and First Lady Laura, or President Clinton and First Lady Hilary. Again, it was a day for realizing connections with many, many people are much closer than we usually realize as we live day to day.

A day for exercising the body & the spirit

2010-10-21T17:44:00.005-04:00

A walled city where none of the streets are level, they either go up or down, not too steep, but definitely make walking interesting, especially since they are also cobblestone and extremely narrow. God forbid you meet a car coming or going. I actually had the zipper on my jacket clipped by the passenger-side mirror of a fairly quickly moving vehicle as I tried to edge around a corner that interrupted what little sidewalk was present, thus forcing you into the street. Too close a call for me!

Welcome to Toledo! It is a city with 2,500 years of history and somewhat frozen in time about 700 years ago. In fact the city is so well preserved it has been declared a national monument. The ENTIRE CITY! And the Spanish government has forbidden any modern exteriors. (Of course like any government, I guess they are exempt for the new entry they added to the Alcazar when they renovated it into a national military museum is extremely modern. It totally clashes with the rest of the building and the entire city!)

We spent a marvelous day wandering the streets of Toledo (which is exactly what you do. Even with the Guide Maps it is nearly impossible NOT to get lost. At some point it seems every tourist does so, some multiple times, or they just give in and wander and take what the city provides, which is actually a treasure around every bend or corner in the maze of streets.) For a city whose life-blood is tourism, the signage to assist visitors in getting around is extremely poor. You will start down one direction because a sign designates that way to the Mezquita, for example, and then you never see another sign the rest of the walk. Yet along the way there are multiple forks in the road and you enter numerous small plazas with numerous entrances and exits. I have had a far easier time navigating the lakes and streams of the Boundary Waters Canoe Wilderness Area in northern Minnesota than I did navigating Toledo.

Perhaps it is actually designed as a tremendous spiritual exercise?! After all, it is a walled city. Three sides are bounded by the Tajo River. It is set on top of a hill. So you really cannot get "lost" but will always bump into an edge with an option to head back toward the center. It becomes a problem if you are a goal-oriented, accomplishment-driven American who feels you must see "all" of the sights, or at least a major portion of them. So this spiritual exercise of the streets of Toledo will either drive you mad, or it will begin to break through your "expectations" of what must be achieved and experienced and begin to lead you to slow down, grow patient, go with the flow and simply experience what the city, what life, has to open up before you and, if you slow down enough to look for it, surprise you with.

We did see some of the sights: the Cathedral (huge, immense, awe-inspiring, although after a little while inside, it actually began to feel "oppressive" for Dianne), the Synagogue which houses the National Jewish Museum, a second synagogue which was once a mosque, a Christian church, and for a while served as the stables for Napoleon's horses, and the Mezquita, a very ancient ruined mosque which also was once a Christian church and has some remaining Christian frescoes on the ceiling and the walls.

But we also enjoyed a delicious and slow-paced lunch at a little restaurant where the inside was packed with locals and the outside tables filled with tourists from Germany, Italy, USA, and several other places. We ordered the Menu de Dia (a three course meal). We each had the traditional Catalan Soup; Dianne had a veal steak that looked exactly like a Palomilla and I had venison stew (Toledo is known for its wild game options for dining). It was all washed down with a cheap bottle of Red Table Wine and topped off with flan. It was good and the afternoon sun warm and enjoyable and a nice respite in the middle of the day.

We also enjoyed a surprising invitation immediately after arriving and walking up the hill to the Cathedral, by a very friendly man who told us all about a little shop of artisans just 2 minutes away where we could watch them working, for free! We decided to accept his invitation, since it was only open until noon and it was already 10:30 a.m. He walked us down the hill about two blocks to a charming little shop in a back-alley where we were introduced to two gentlemen working on gold damascene jewelry. We then entered their shop and of course purchased some very nice quality craft work from craftsmen who have been plying their trade for 25, 30, and 48 years! It was a pleasant surprise!

Toledo was a good experience at just the right time. It invited us to slow down and soak in the location, rather than keep driving to achieve all the notches we could count on our traveler's staff. After today I feel we are beginning to find that balance we wanted to achieve between sight-seeing and simply living in and soaking up the surrounding culture and environment which is Spain.

Amazing Art & Food in Madrid

2010-10-20T18:16:00.006-04:00

El Prado is a museum to rival the Louvre, the Uffizi in Florence, the Art Institute in Chicago and the New York Metropolitan Museum of Fine Art. We spent six hours tracing the evolving career of Goya, from a hired artist for the Royal Court, to an artist who made political statements, to a disturbed man painting his darkest nightmares after living through the horror of the War for Independence from Napoleon, and then viewing the works of Vasquez, El Greco, Ribera, Titian, Fra Angelico, Raphael, & others. Dianne "discovered" a Mona Lisa anonymous knock-off that looked every bit as good as the more famous portrait. It is clearly the same model in the same pose without the landscape background and from the same time period as Da Vinci's painting. There were surprises around ever corner.

But, as amazing as the art museum was, what I really want to share with you today is about the food of Madrid. We embarked on our first "Tapas Crawl" this past evening. This is a Madrileno custom where friends travel from one pub/restaurant to another, drinking wine/beer and eating tapas (basically a Spanish appetizer). At each stop they usually get a plate or assortment to share, or just small individual servings called "pinchos." Anyway, if you are a Madrileno (that is a native to the town) and know where you are going without needing to scope the establishments out and try to size them up, and you are with a group of friends, it sounds as if it could be a fun evening. But as a couple of tourists unsure of the language, the food, and the pubs/restaurants it was actually a somewhat daunting endeavor.

The first place we stopped was a vinoteca (a wine bar) where we had a delicious Rueda Verdejo (a white wine). But, though they had a tapas menu on the table, the waiter did not return to take our order. We did not see anyone else eating in the place, so we assumed perhaps the kitchen was closed (they were advertising on the door for "help") but when we went to leave I asked the waiter if there were "no tapas" tonight and he look rather flustered as though he had missed a sale. We then checked out several more places, all of which either seemed over-priced or what I could understand of what was offered I wasn't sure I wanted to eat. We finally got off the beaten path and discovered a wonderful little neighborhood place: La Tia Cebolla Taberna (Auntie Onion's Tavern). While it appeared rather rough around the edges we dove in. The wait staff was very helpful and we enjoyed a free offering with our vino rioja (red wine) of fruti del mar (a seafood salad, which included octopus slices). This beginning was good, so we proceeded to order and then enjoyed a lovely salmon & brie on toast and the house specialty a Don Paco, which was a hot open faced sandwich of toast, tomato slices, ham, covered with melted manchego cheese, flavored with pimiento powder & basil flakes. Both were very healthy servings and were wonderful. They filled us up so our crawl basically ended there (I don't imagine a true Madrileno would end the evening after just two stops!) except for the cafe we stopped for a hotel/bar near our own hotel. I am not sure we are fans of the Tapas Crawl, but we have experienced it!

The Spanish diet is heavy on meat (much like Argentina) except that this time it is weighted toward pork rather than beef. That is very clear when you visit the Museo de Jamon (yes, that is the Museum of Ham!) This deli/restaurant is a Temple to Ham, with large leg portions of pigs hanging from the rafters and almost everything on the menu incorporating some type of pig: ham plates, ham sandwiches, chorizo sausage, etc. This is mostly a dried, salted, type of ham which is much closer to prosciutto than to our ham steaks or spiral cut hams in the US.

Overall, we have found the food very good. We had a most exquisite gourmet dinner our first evening here. We started with mushroom croquettes, followed by two cuts of veal which were wonderfully prepared, and ended with a cheesecake dessert which was basically a form of upside-down cheesecake in a bowl topped with a delicious cream and berries, along with cafe espresso para mi y cappuccino para Dianne. The owner, waiter, and chef were all very young and most attentive. It was a wonderful introduction to Spanish cooking. I fear we will not lose any weight on this vacation!

Madrid is very familiar!

2010-10-20T04:01:00.005-04:00

It feels like coming home! Arriving in Madrid and I feel as though I know this place! The architecture, the busy streets, the clothing the people are wearing, all feel very familiar. I even know where to look on the sides of the buildings at the corners about 10 feet up from the street to find the street sign to be able to identify the streets and know where I am! Madrid feels exactly like Buenos Aires! The sound of Spanish fills the air and mi Espanol es vuelve!

Walking the streets yesterday with Dianne had the same feel as walking the streets in Buenos Aires. Except, cleaner! No dog poop on the sidewalks! We have seen fewer dogs being walked than in Argentina, although one group did bring a HUGE Harlequin Great Dane (beautiful dog) into the restaurant last night as they sat at a corner table and had their drinks and tapas. The dog was amazingly well behaved and after it settled down in the corner you barely knew it was there.

It really should not have surprised me that Madrid would feel so much like Buenos Aires. After all, BA was founded and settled and created by people from Spain! It is that old colonial attitude still lurking in my brain that whatever we have in the New World (the Americas) is truly new and unique, forgetting that our ancestors arrived from Europe (most of them) and it was their culture which they brought with them. The connections are clearly here in Spain to see and it is one of those reasons I like to travel: to be reminded of our connections with the people of the past and our relationships at a DNA level with people all over the world.

I am posting a few pictures to illustrate what Madrid feels and looks like. In a future post I will add a link to more pictures. Buen dia!

Sabbath Time is Observation Time

2010-09-11T10:51:00.005-04:00

Observation. This is another important reason to include sabbath time in one's schedule on a regular basis. With our hectic, high-speed, high-stress, constantly on the go, one more thing to do, scheduled lives today, we move so quickly and so distractedly through life that we seldom take the time to simply "observe" life. We might spend more time than we should (I know I do) "watching" TV shows, sporting events, even news. But how much time do we devote to simply "observing" the world around us: watching our children or grandchildren play, especially when they are not aware of our presence; watching the birds in the trees and bushes outside the window, or the lizards on the pool deck; watching the clouds form and float by; watching a rain shower or thunderstorm pour out its fury; watching the sunrise or sunset long enough to enjoy all the subtle color shifts during the event.

Beyond the obvious exercise benefits and the hour plus for meditation, the opportunity to observe the world around me is one reason I treasure my time to walk each day. It is during my walking times that I most often see the wildlife which inhabits the world with us. They are always there, but when we are zipping from place to place in our steel-encased automobiles we zoom by them so quickly we easily miss their presence. Last week while in Georgetown, Texas I walked three mornings at sunrise. The first day I spied 5 white-tail deer. The next morning, walking in a light rain shower I noticed 3 more deer. The last morning, a beautiful dawn, I doubled my count and saw 8 deer. That made a total of 16 sightings of deer in 3 days. (I realize some of them may have been the same animals, since they were all sighted along the same 2 mile stretch of road. Even so, the 8 deer spotted the last day were all distinct, separate animals.) I also saw what I believe was a spotted owl on the first morning fly across the roadway, being chased by some smaller bird.

Speaking of "observation" - as I write this blog post I just glanced outside the window above my desk and the sun has evidently shifted to strike with illumination, a large, intricate, well-crafted spider web hanging directly a foot beyond the window. I just looked up at the right time to notice it. Had I not done so, as I can tell now, a few minutes later, I would have missed it, for the sun angle has shifted again and the web has become almost invisible from this spot. So much of observation is obviously about timing. And being in a mode of alertness and readiness to receive.

While I enjoyed seeing the deer in Texas, I live in a veritable paradise of wildlife activity and enjoy spotting fellow creatures regularly on my walks here in South Florida. Regularly I enjoy the company of peacocks with their brilliant turquoise and aquamarine colored feathers, aw well as flocks of ibis along with lone herons, great and small, white and blue. Mullet regularly jump in the canals and this past week I finally spied one of the small crocodiles which lives in the small lake behind the office building where the VITAS south office is located. (I do think the large crocodile escaped that lake. The fence at the end of the ramp, evidently erected to keep the crocodiles impounded, appeared to have been breached, having been bent under a great weight. And I have heard reports of a 10 foot crocodile having been spotted in in the mouth of the C-100 canal at Deering Point feasting on the small snapper.) There is also a pair of horned owls which live in the trees of the small park on the C-100 canal through which I walk which I have occasionally spotted early in the morning right after sunrise.

This morning I arrived at the bay at Deering Point right at sunrise. There were growing cumulus clouds hovering on the eastern horizon which added to the splendor of the sunrise. But the most amazing part of the 15 minutes I spent standing by the bay was experiencing the waves of ibis setting out from their roosting mangroves about a half mile north of my spot. They left in groups of 15 to 30 at a time and flew in formations south. As they passed overhead and all around in wave after wave it was like some massive air force taking off and headed on some bombing run to attack some distant target. They make no squawking noise as they fly, but when a large flock passes close by the noise of the wings, the strong "whoooosh" is awesome! It was a most amazing, wonderful way to begin the day.

The pictures posted include the spider web I just observed, some samples of South Florida wildlife I often enjoy, and a sample of the low-flying, early morning ibis flocks passing close by which I photographed on another morning, not today.

Sabbath Time: Time for reflecting

2010-09-03T23:02:00.004-04:00

“I just don’t think about it.” This is a common reply by my 93 year old grandmother who I have been visiting in Georgetown, Texas. Whether it is a function of her age, of the beginning traces of dementia, or a defense mechanism she has learned when she doesn’t want to talk about something I found it a fascinating reply. She offered it often when I would ask her some query, like why they receive nice linen napkins at their tables for lunch, but then receive large 2 foot by 3 foot cotton terrycloth bibs for dinner? She didn’t know. She just doesn’t think about it. I told her that was the sort of trivia about which I often find myself thinking. I would want to know. I would assume there must be a reason and I would wonder what that reason might be.

Martin Heidegger, German philosopher who lived from 1889 – 1976, said in an address given in 1955 that the greatest danger of our time was that the calculating way of thinking, that is part of the technical revolution, will become the dominating and exclusive way of thinking. Why is this so dangerous? Heidegger said: “Because then we would find, together with the highest and the most successful development of our thinking on the calculating level, an indifference towards reflection and a complete thoughtlessness … then humanity would have renounced and thrown away what is most its own, its ability to reflect. What is at stake is to save the essence of humanity. What is at stake is to keep alive our reflective thinking.”

Coming across that quote recently, and visiting my grandmother, began to crystallize some thoughts for me. I agree with Heidegger on the importance of the ability to reflect on life. Animals don’t seem to have this ability. It is part of what makes dogs such wonderful pets: they don’t remember and reflect upon the vagaries of human behavior. They grow to love those human beings who take care of them and they then do so with a complete devotion, with unconditional love, never flagging in their zeal to show that love. Other animals a primarily concerned with survival, with finding food and maintaining their security, and with breeding and perpetuating their species.

Certainly we human beings are concerned with those matters, but a large part of what makes us different, perhaps even unique, is our ability to also reflect upon our experience. We have the ability to remember, to recall, to think about and ruminate over what we did, what happened to us, and imbue it with meaning.

But as we have become more proficient at problem-solving, at calculating and planning, especially with the aid of technology, have we become so engrossed, obsessed, and consumed with this thought process that we take less time to pause, recall, remember and reflect upon the life we are living, the experiences we are having, and find some deeper meaning to our lives?

This is an important reason for Sabbath time. Not just to relax. Not just to take it easy and rest. But also to have time to think, not in a calculating, planning, problem-solving sort of way, but rather in a slower, thoughtful, reflective manner. Sabbath time allows us to just be still with our lives, to recall our experiences, to remember them and to reflect upon them. As we do, we begin to identify larger patterns, deeper meanings, and fresh insights that are refreshing, renewing, and enlarging of our lives.

My grandmother may not think about such things. (Although I suspect she might do more reflecting than she owns up to.) But I definitely need and desire to think about such things. In fact, I yearn to reflect upon many things. Sabbath time is indeed sacred time. It is time to reflect and keep alive that divine quality with which God blessed us when creating us in God’s image.

A Gentle Morning at The Cove

2010-07-20T22:52:00.005-04:00

The air was near-still, just the vaguest hint of a breeze wafted the pungent aroma of the sea and marsh, rich with salt and decaying vegetation to my nose. The marsh grasses are so vibrantly green the salt water obviously does not seem to harm them but rather enhance their beauty. Obviously they are not really grasses, but some sort of grass-like plant growing at the edges of the coves and bays on Cape Cod. They pop visually, even when the daylight is muted, as it was that night at sunset in Rock Harbor. The low-hanging, heavy clouds which had blown in from the west hid the sun so we could never really tell when the sun set.

The next morning while I sat on the porch at The Cove Motel overlooking the cove at Orleans the sky was again overcast. The clouds hung just barely above the level of fog and again shrouded the arrival of the sun. Even with the clouds muting the sun-light the colors surrounding me were vibrant. The world was awash in various shades of green with accents of lavender, cherry, yellow, rust, white and brown. The air pulsated with bird life - song birds, swans, gulls, terns, ducks, geese, and crows - a veritable symphony of sound washed over me and awoke my eardrums.

Such a muted, gradual awakening of the world from slumber under a blanket of mist or low-lying clouds seems the most comforting and perfect manner for morning to unfold. The sunlight gradually intrudes upon the world, the temperature so very gradually begins to climb, and life gently stirs and stretches, yawning into activity. This is so much more civilized than when the world is startled awake by the brilliance and glare of a full, non-shielded sun.

These types of mornings occur often near water, the night mists and fogs arising to allow this slow embrace of the day to evoke life gentle, with loving nurture. It is a most hospitable way to care for life - inviting the world to awaken by providing a muted, gentle, open and welcoming space for that to take place. I much prefer it, and it seems from the joy and celebration of the morning the wildlife agreed, to the approach that demands a response and a conforming to the will and expectations of the sun in the harsh judgement of a naked sunrise. When the land and water is overshadowed by clouds they create an arena of peace where the plants and animals and birds can slowly stretch their limbs and begin to explore their capabilities and the world around them without the harsh judging glare and withering gaze that sternly demands results.

Would that we could provide such welcoming arenas for one another as human beings.

Memories Triggered by Familiar Sounds

2010-07-16T08:14:00.007-04:00

The sound of the cicada's was omnipresent. The distant moan and rumble of the train washed over me like a warm shower. But it was the church bell's - just a brief Westminster chime sounding the quarter hour - which evoked the memories triggered by familiar sounds. I had not heard the sound of church bells in ages. A carillon used to sound from the steeple of Columbia Presbyterian Church, located right next to the Columbia seminary campus, several times a day, but most noticeably for me at the six o'clock hour every evening. Then First Congregational United Church of Christ in Elkhart, Indiana, followed by Melbourne UCC in Florida both had carillons serenading the local communities, primarily downtown business districts, with lovely sacred music several times each day. When I moved to Christ Congregational UCC in the south suburbs of Miami the carillon was turned off because the neighbors had complained to the County government about the intrusion into their lives with "church music." Shortly after I arrived we briefly turned the carillon back on, just to play the Westminster chimes on the hour, but the neighbors again began sending us nasty notes. Before we could even decide whether to turn it off or not, the carillon stopped playing and we never pursued repairs. Truth is none of the members of Christ Church really lived close enough to ever hear the bells and, other than the Preschool staff, the rest of the staff was never really present to hear them very often either. Still, I do miss the gentle sound of old church hymns played by carillon bells. Hearing the bells always brought me comfort and peace, often triggering positive, happy memories.

While reflecting on the church bells my ears picked up the distant moaning of a train horn following by the rhythmic parting of the sound waves by the passing of the train cars on nearby tracks. Again, the doors of nostalgia opened on past lives. The sound of trains did not become a regular part of my life until I moved to Columbia Seminary in Decatur, Georgia. The tracks were about a half mile away, close enough to hear the train as a distant romantic serenade, rather than an intrusive oppressive presence. Especially pleasant were the late night trains passing and offering a gentle form of lullaby while trying to drift off to sleep following late night studies. The trains followed me to Cullman, Alabama that first seminary summer, and then to Joshua, Texas my second summer, and even to Elkhart, Indiana in my first church after graduation. For eight years trains offered an audible connection with a romantic view of Americana, the earlier history of westward expansion, and a feeling of the transportation lifeblood of the country pulsating with life. When I moved to Melbourne, Florida, even though the church was one block off the Florida East Coast Railway, the trains did not seem to run as often and I can barely recall their presence. Since moving to Miami they have clearly faded the arena of nostalgia.

Strolling comfortably with these audible memories suddenly the cicadas jumped into my awareness. They had been providing an omnipresent backdrop of white noise so prevalent in northern climes in the temperate zone where forests with significant growth of deciduous trees are the rule. Sitting on the porch where we are staying, the sound of the cicada's ebbed and flowed, swelling to the crescendo that surrounded and enveloped as though it was a physical presence, only to fall to pianissimo level that never fades away, remaining at the lowest level of audible awareness.

I am not as aware of the sounds of my life in Florida as I was during this early morning meditation. What I did recall at that moment, becoming aware of their absence, is the sound of birds that are very present in Miami. There were no songbirds this morning. I don't hear songbirds in Miami either. Our birds are not the melodic type. We have mockingbirds and doves, jays and crows, parrots and peacocks, all joined by the squirrels. They offer more staccato, or screeching, or haunting calls rather than melody, but it is very present.

I will need to listen more closely when I return home to identify the prominent sounds surrounding me, providing the sound track for my life.

(The pictures offer a taste of the setting for this auditory reflection.)

The Glorious Poinciana

2010-05-30T18:52:00.004-04:00

It was a scene straight out of some "indie" film. I was lying on my back, floating in my pool with my ears submerged so I heard no sound but the sound of the water. Staring straight up from there I was gazing at the most beautiful scarlet-orange poinciana blossoms, framed by the nearly lime-green miniature leaves fresh this spring, against a hazy bluish-white sky. It was deliriously gorgeous. (Poinciana trees [several pictures of them are posted here for those unfamiliar with them] are quite possibly my very favorite thing about living in South Florida. Along with the glorious weather 12 months of the year, which allows for continual golf, bougainvillea blossoms, orchids, frangipani trees, peacocks, ibis, white herons, and so many things that truly make this paradise.) With no sound accosting my ears or my awareness, what I was viewing was immensely more beautiful and intense. I felt like I was watching the opening scene of some strange, artsy, Sundance-worthy independent film and the camera was soon going to pan away to some obscure, or some strangely horrific scene. It was a mini-sabbatical moment.

I have been able to find such mini-sabbatical moments quite frequently, I have just been very terrible about making the time to write them down and reflect on them in the blog. I made a commitment to write at least once a month in this blog and I have done a terrible job fulfilling that commitment. Nor have I been writing in my journal, although I have probably written several more times there than here.

One of those journal entries I was able to identify that television watching had become part of my downfall for finding time to write and reflect on life. (Although I am doing quite a bit of writing, as I have now begun posting a weekly eDevotion for the members of my church, and having become Moderator of the Florida Conference United Church of Christ I am now needing to write a quarterly column for their newsletter and I intend to begin writing, perhaps monthly, eDevotions for the Conference clergy and lay leaders.) I do like to write. It is very cathartic for me and probably my favorite means for expressing myself. I really do enjoy the discipline of writing in this blog and in my journal and when I do not make that time I greatly miss it.

Anyway, I am recommitting myself, and I believe since we are entering the summer season and the regular television shows have all ended (including Lost, which was phenomenal, Fringe, which is almost as good, The Amazing Race, the only reality show worth watching, American Idol, what can I say, I get sucked in like everyone else, V, I am a sucker for Sci-Fi, and two which have been cancelled, so I will hopefully be watching a little less come next Fall, Heroes and FlashFoward) to writing regularly in my journal and on this blog. I will be making a stronger effort to share with you more of my experiences with mini-sabbaticals and other reflections on the wonderful dance of Sabbath Tango.

A Most Unusual Sabbath Moment

2010-02-26T17:45:00.005-05:00

I continue to struggle, obviously, with my commitment to write every day in my journal and regularly on this blog. I still am not quite sure why. I do believe I am having trouble managing all my email and my addiction to information on Facebook and other blogs. That may be more excuse, or symptom, rather than actual issue, but that is where my thinking is moving right now.

I did have a reflection that grew out of a rather unique "sabbath" moment. I will share part of the reflection and then maybe add some more comments afterward. This is what I wrote one night back in January while I was on-call for VITAS Hospice and attending a death.

So I'm sitting in a patient's room in a nursing home, waiting for the funeral home to come and transport her body. On the wall facing her bed, in this otherwise very cold and sterile environment, is a small print of Seurat's "La Grande Jatte." It is a rather interesting painting hanging in a strange setting, so that I find it rather absurd. The painting is full of life, though somewhat surreal due to the pointillism style of design and due to the strange aura of underlying horror, sadness, uncomfortable feeling that pervades what, on the surface appears as a happy painting about people enjoying a bright day in a park. Having thought about it, perhaps it is a most appropriate print for a place where there is horror, sadness, and great discomfort being lived out every day in a facility that makes only a token effort to mask the horrible reality of people aging and dying without the presence of real love and often in great loneliness.

I always think of my son, Paul, when I see that painting. It is one of his favorite pieces of art. I called him in Salt Lake City (actually I texted him and then he called me back) to share my experience with him of seeing this print in this surreal setting. We had a very good conversation. He has clearly begun a new life for himself in Salt Lake City. His family, me included, clearly wants to still take care of him and cushion him from the harsh realities of the world. But I am growing to believe that he needs to find his own way in the world - even if it means taking some lumps along the way. I know he has a good foundation we gave to him. I know he is a smart young man and I truly believe he knows we are there for him. I trust him to himself and the arms of God and know he will be OK.

I do not often have a chance while I am working for VITAS to spend time in reflection and in jotting down some of those thoughts. Usually on a death visit I am very focused on family members present and helping them begin to cope with their grief over the loss of their loved one, as well as handle the details of calling the funeral home, dispose of the controlled medications in sent to the patient, and fill out the paper work to document the death and what I have done.

But in this case, there was no family present. Family was notified but chose not to come to the nursing home. There was no staff present, they were off handling other patients. So it was just me alone, with the dead patient, and my thoughts. It turned out to be a very positive and helpful "sabbath" time for reflection about life, death, and my relationship with my son.

What I learned out of the experience was to be alert for those moments of "mini-sabbath" opportunities that occur along the way. They are most irregular. They often come out of the blue, usually when you are not really looking for them. But they can be very powerful, both in terms of nurturing my soul, my spiritual life, but also in terms of nurturing my heart and mind. They can bring a refreshing sense of mental and emotional renewal, as well as spiritual renewal. A new step in the dance of Sabbath Tango!

The pictures are from the Art Institute in Chicago, the Seurat painting "La Grande Jatte." The larger picture is the whole piece. The closer view of the little girl in the middle begins to illustrate some of the underlying unsettling feelings in the picture.

Celebrating God's Continuous Epiphanies

2010-01-06T10:51:00.006-05:00

Epiphany is the celebration of the truth that the God we worship through Christianity is a God who has revealed God's self to the world. Most clearly we Christians believe that revelation has been made through the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the Anointed One of God, the Christ. Epiphany is the Feast of the Magi, or Three Kings. It is a celebration of light bursting forth into a world shrouded in shadows and darkness.

Unfortunately I did not get up early this morning and walk to the bay to view the sunrise, which would have been a most appropriate way to mark the Day of Epiphany. But temps in the high 30's in Miami are way too cold for those of us who have lived here long enough we no longer have body memory of freezing weather. So, I stayed in my nice warm bed and gained an extra hour of sleep, which I never seem to get in sufficient quantity.

Yesterday, however, the 12th Day of Christmas, I did not receive "12 drummers drumming" but I did enjoy a "revelation" experience. The night before I was on-call for VITAS and had to attend a death at midnight, an event which lasted until 4 a.m. Again, my sleep was inhibited, so I slept late (until 9 a.m.) and decided I had to go for a walk before going to work, so I took my walk to "The People's Dock" late in the morning before noon. ("The People's Dock" was the name of the public landing that abutted the south side of the Deering Estate property in the early 1900's. Access to that dock is still public, even though Miami-Dade County Parks have expanded the Deering property southward beyond the "South Wall". Since my traditional walk destination on the bay has been closed for six months of renovation work, I now walk about a half mile further to "The People's Dock", which in many ways is actually a superior location from which to view Biscayne Bay, some mangrove islands, and of course if I get there in time, the sunrise.)

Anyway, upon arriving at the Dock, I paused before taking in the water view to peer over the gate in the South Wall of the Deering Estate, just to see what I could see and was surprised to be staring down into the face of a mother raccoon and her two babies. She was equally shocked to be staring up at me. They had been moving out from some heavy grass and I believe were in process of crossing the grassy driveway which proceeds from the gate into the property, probably moving toward the water, when I poked my head into their world! We stared at each other for a brief moment in shock, before she quickly recovered her wits and decided to retreat to the protection of the heavy grass, where I could no longer track her movements. Her two babies followed immediately.

It was the briefest of encounters, but was a marvelous experience. It reminded me again of the much wider, much wilder, creation with which we share this world. Even in what we think of as highly urbanized locations, nature still breaks in and exerts her presence. We share this planet with a far more diverse tree of life than we acknowledge on a daily basis. We are surrounded by a wide variety of birds, even amongst our tallest buildings. Any body of water attracts waterfowl more than we usually stop and appreciate. Though we try our utmost best through our fumigating and exterminating, there are far more insects in our personal spheres of movement than we like to think about. And higher mammals have not yet been wiped out by us, but instead continue to find ways to adapt to our omnipresent influence.

Beyond that, though, the experience also reminded me that I need to remain alert in life and be willing to "look over the wall" to the other side from time to time. (I am not advocating voyeurism, but a removal of the "blinders" I far too often wear as I move through my daily existence.) One never knows what lies just beyond the wall, or in the underbrush, or around the next bend. It is so very easy to develop tunnel vision and never look to the left or right as I move through life. How many "revelations" of the beauty and wonder and glory of God have I missed??? I need to be sure and keep removing the blinders and keep looking for God's next surprise!

A sunrise of promise for 2010

2010-01-01T17:05:00.004-05:00

The sun rose brightly over Biscayne Bay on a new day, a New Year, a New Decade. There were clouds on the horizon so the sun was slightly delayed in breaking forth with bright rays of hope and glory for the new day. Somewhat symbolic it seems. Since 2009 was such a difficult year for so many of us undoubtedly we will not be able to put it behind us as quickly as we might like. While 2010 holds the promise of being a better year and for many of the problems of the past several years to begin to be solved, resolved, and improved upon, it will probably not feel a lot different than 2009 for the first part of the year. The promise, though, is that just as the sun did rather quickly rise above the clouds to a clear, open sky to shine forth brightly, 2010 will eventually prove to be a brighter, better year than 2009.

It has begun well for me. I did get up at 6:00 a.m. to walk to the Bay to start my day. As I left the house the full moon which closed out 2009 was still shining in the western sky through a slight haze hanging over the darkened world, whether from Florida humidity, or the remains of all the fire works exploded by our neighbors the previous night (it was like a war zone) providing an ethereal illumination for the beginning of the walk. The sunrise was well worth waking up early and the walk. It is always very nourishing for my soul to spend even just a few minutes down by the Bay at the start of the day. That also means I got my exercise and meditation walk in for the day. I then spent the rest of the morning cleaning up the house to get ready for my daughter to return with one of her Law school classmates for a few days before they have to return to Pennsylvania.

I have also been able to write this post for the blog, which makes two days in a row and provides a good start to 2010. That is my primary resolution this year: to make a commitment to finding time to write, either in my blog or in my private journal, every day. I wrote almost every day when I was on sabbatical. That was in addition to studying Spanish, doing homework, exploring the city in which I was living. There really should not be any excuse for not writing. So I will make a commitment to doing that each and every day this year.

Happy New Year one and all. Hold onto the hope and promise of the sunrise for a new day for our world in 2010!

Some final thoughts on/in 2009!

2009-12-31T22:47:00.005-05:00

Happy New Year! It is 11:00 p.m. on December 31, 2009. I have done a lousy job of regular postings on this blog this past fall. My last post, "A New Commitment to Sabbath Time" talked about a plan for incorporating mini-retreats into my monthly schedule. I did achieve that to some extent: I had a trip to Orlando in November for the Florida Conference Board of Directors' meeting. I had some great reflection time in the car on the drive to Orlando and actually composed some blog posts in my mind, but then never made the time to sit down and actually commitment them to computer and post on the blog!!!! Then I had a nice weekend off for my annual immersion in NASCAR during the final Sprint Cup race in Homestead, Florida. That has developed into a very enjoyable, mindless, ritual event for me. It started as a means to better connect with my son who was a temporary NASCAR fan when in elementary school, because his best friend was a fan. Eventually Paul grew out of that interest, which was never very deep, but I had become hooked. Unfortunately, the weekend is all focused on watching the cars drive the track and there is not much reflection or meditation time. It is not an experience that requires a lot of mental activity, but it does require focus, even if somewhat mindless. Still, I have grown to enjoy it and look forward to it every year. Over Thanksgiving I enjoyed a long weekend, with a trip to Naples to have Turkey Dinner with my father-in-law. You may remember from the last post that during the trip to Naples in October I actually developed a deeper appreciation for the view from his patio as a place to meditate, reflect and blog. But that didn't develop this time in November, or on our trip over on Christmas Day. Both trips were nice and relaxing in terms of providing a break from the regular hectic schedule of daily work life. The first weekend of December also provided a break of sorts. Dianne and I traveled to Melbourne/Palm Bay to join with the Riviera UCC folks in celebrating 120 years of ministry to those two communities. This was the church I served for 9 years upon first coming to Florida when it was located in downtown Melbourne. I had very little responsibility for the weekend, just reading scripture in worship on Sunday, and enjoying their celebration banquet, greeting and visiting with old friends, on Saturday evening. It was a nice break from the regular Advent routine. This past week was nice and slow and I had a good visit with my two children, even if too brief with my son. He and his sister arrived the day after Christmas, along with Dianne's daughter, her family, and Di's brother and family for a very full day of family Christmas. Then there was worship on Sunday. But we did get to the movies twice as a family, enjoyed several videos and one game of cards, and several good dinners. Now he has gone back to Palm Bay for three days before flying back to Utah for the start of the next semester at college. His sister is returning here tomorrow for a few more days with us, along with one of her new law school buddies who needed a Florida sunshine break from the Pennsylvania winter.

The only problem with all those breaks these past two months is they were actually too many. The result was even more stress and pressure during the regular weeks of work, as all my regular work commitments had to be completed in the remaining time each month. While I really enjoyed the down time and the change of schedule, what I learn from this experience is the need for balance: I need some down time for reflection and meditation, but not too much, unless it is a large block of time taken all at once, like a week or two of vacation, or a longer retreat or continuing education event. I also need to make sure and incorporate at least a brief period for reflecting and writing those reflections so that the time takes on more depth and, especially when I do have a meaningful reflection like I did several times on some of the long drives, I don't lose those thoughts to the ether.

Anyway, while I missed November with a post, here is one for December, a final one for 2009, and I am saving some thoughts for tomorrow morning and hopefully my first post for 2010. Happy New Year!

A New Commitment to Sabbath Time

2009-10-30T17:49:00.005-04:00

The sky was bright blue. There was a gentle breeze blowing off the Gulf of Mexico, which was shimmering invitingly beyond the mangroves & Australian pines. Sitting on my father-in-law’s fifth floor balcony in Naples on Wednesday morning, October 22, working on my submissions for the church newsletter, I wished that was my office setting all the time. I would really enjoy working in such a relaxed setting with such a beautiful, inspiring view.

Later that day Dianne and I then drove north to Clearwater Beach and set up shop on the ninth floor of the Hilton, with a balcony facing north presenting a view of Clearwater Bay and the condos, homes and palm trees of this sleepy little island to the east, and of the beach and the Gulf of Mexico to the west. While this was been a working trip for Dianne who went there to conduct the wedding of the youngest child of a life-long friend she has known since they were both 10 years old, for me it was another form of Sabbath retreat. Yes, I did engage in some work activities: finishing up my newsletter submissions as I previously mentioned, answering emails from parishioners and colleagues, scheduling a substitute preacher for an upcoming Sunday, participating in a conference call meeting of a committee of the Florida Conference UCC, and doing some reading as research for Sunday’s sermon. Even so, there was a much more relaxed rhythm to my days, with work slipped into the seams and edges of the day, while there were also many renewing and regenerating activities composing the bulk of my activity. Each day included a 75 minute walk on the beach (twice at sunrise, once in the middle of the day). I read the New York Times from front page to back every day (a much more complete, comprehensive, and interesting newspaper than my hometown Miami Herald). All three meals every day were relaxed times with Dianne, without a TV and with good conversation. I even enjoyed a little bit of pleasure reading, starting the Pat Conroy novel, South of Broad.

Early in my career as a pastor I read somewhere the suggestion that a pastor ought to schedule a monthly retreat for the purpose of self-renewal, spiritual regeneration and growth. I never felt I could afford to do that every month. I have always been very faithful about observing and keeping my day off each week (of course most people in the work force in the US get two days off, but clergy never seem entitled to that perk). I have also, occasionally, tried to schedule a quarterly retreat, a few days away from my ministry setting, usually at a retreat house. But I have never established even that as a regular pattern. But since my Sabbatical, when I learned how truly renewing time away from the regular schedule of responsibilities, activities, and expectations can be, this past year I have been reflecting more upon the nature of Sabbath as time away. As I look back at the year, especially through these blog posts, I realize I have had some sort of time away almost every month. Some of it has been around family concerns; my father’s failing health and then death, my children going off to law school and college, attending this wedding to support Dianne. Some of it has been more related to work; attending the Florida Conference Annual Meeting and staying over an extra day to enjoy Daytona Beach with my wife. And some has been family vacation time; our trip to Chicago to celebrate Dianne’s birthday with family, our quick trip to Savannah in September.

The result has been a more relaxed pastor during the more common active periods of ministry. I have been able to go about my work with greater energy, a better balanced sense of priorities and perspective, and a fresher capability for creativity. This past year this schedule evolved more by accident than by planning. Having a better understanding of the benefit such a schedule provides, however, leads me to the decision that I want to commit to such a schedule in the future. Toward that end I plan to take a mini-retreat each month this next year. If I will be away during the month for Conference related business or vacation time, I will dedicate a part of that time away to some intentional Sabbath time of reflection and renewal. If such time does not present itself in a month, I will take a 2-3 day mini-retreat during one week of the month and get away from my home, my regular routine, and set aside the time to spend in intentional prayer and reflection on life and my ministry. Such a schedule should provide great benefit to me and to my ministry, and possibly ensure a longer tenure with renewed energy and a healthier attitude and outlook. Stay tuned for more updates on the Sabbath Tango experiment!

Sabbath Tango is a Difficult Dance

2009-09-28T18:30:00.006-04:00

I am really struggling to keep posting to this blog. I had set myself a goal of having at least one post each month this year, and here it is almost to the end of September before I am adding something for this month. The month almost slipped by without a post, and I even had 10 days off from work for vacation time with Dianne this month! I must say, it was a very mixed bag as far as vacation time goes. We had to begin the time with a trip to Naples, FL to check on her father who is having some health issues and then we had to end the time with another trip to Naples the last two days to check up on him again. Thankfully, the two trips resulted in good news from the doctors visited, so they were certainly worthwhile and necessary.

Sandwiched between these two trips to Naples was a quick trip to Savannah, GA, which is apparently becoming our new "favorite" southern city. (Sorry Charleston, you are being edged out by your neighbor to the south!) Savannah is a lovely, old south city filled with charm, story, restored 150 year-old houses and other architectural structures, lovely shaded squares, and very gracious hospitality. It also has a beach on Tybee Island (which Charleston has, too) which is very necessary for us as both of us worry we will dry up and wither away if we are ever removed too far from an ocean for too long! We had a very nice time in Savannah. The B & B where we stayed was lovely and very comfortable. The hosts were most attentive and prepared very delicious & filling breakfasts. We had some exquisite meals, very delicious and at least one, very gourmet! We enjoyed some jazz and some street artists.

It was a very enjoyable 4 days. But it did not have the feel of "sabbath" time. Why was that? It was vacation. It was a break from my regular routine. But it was not that special, step aside and live life at a different pace, time. It was somewhat diminished by the fact that I had not completed the work I needed to finish before leaving by Sunday, and so a big chunk of Monday and Tuesday, when I was in Naples, and then back in Miami before leaving for Savannah, was spent working on articles for the Church newsletter. I think it was also kept from being Sabbath time because of the time spent attending to my father-in-law's medical needs. (That was important time and necessary for us to pay attention to, but it was not sabbath time.) And then, for some reason, we filled the time in Savannah to the brim with activity: visiting Fort Pulaski (which was very interesting); visiting the Tybee light house; visiting Bonaventure Cemetery; visiting antique dealers and old houses, including the Mercer-Williams house, which was made famous by Johnny Mercer, whose great-grandfather began building the house before the Civil War, did not finish the house after the war, sold it to someone else, and no other Mercer, including Johnny, ever lived in the house! Everything we did was interesting. But in the short time we were there it felt like we filled the time too much with activity and not enough with laid-back, down-time, with no activity except perhaps to read, enjoy the gardens of the B & B, maybe even sleep some extra time.

What I would conclude is Sabbath Time is hard to find. We do not live in a world that encourages or nurtures sabbath time activities. Even our regular Sabbath Days, (Saturday for the Jews and Seventh-Day Adventists and Sunday for Christians) are filled with activity. For most of us, finding even an hour on Sabbath Day to gather with others for worship is often difficult. And forget about trying to find sabbath time during the rest of the week. Unless you have been laid-off, downsized, or had your hours cut-back, because of the bad economy, you are not working a 40 hour week, you are working a 50 or 60 hour week, often spread over 6 days instead of 5. On top of that you are needing to spend many hours attending to chores and tasks at home. So actually finding time for rest, relaxation, meditation, worship, just being and enjoying creation, it very, very difficult. It is most certainly a dance. As "Dancing with the Stars" has demonstrated for all America, to master a dance takes hard, hard work, time, and dedication. We keep wanting sabbath time to just "materialize" and when it doesn't, we don't seem to know how to advocate for our right to it and are afraid to proclaim how important it is. I wish I had an answer, but instead, as my minimal posts illustrate, it is a difficult tango for me to master as well.

Enjoy the pictures above of Savannah. It is a lovely city. And I encourage you to keep practicing your sabbath tango, as I promise to keep trying to do as well!

Walking Up & Down Memory Lane at 8,000 feet

2009-08-25T19:37:00.005-04:00

Walking 1.8 miles uphill, achieving an elevation change of 1,040 feet in that distance, at altitudes of 7,500 to 8,500 feet just about did in the lungs of this sea level fellow! Today I walked up & down memory lane, basking in nostalgia, as I did the above in Mill Creek Canyon. This canyon has always been my canyon of choice. It is the closest canyon to Westminster College, in the Wasatch Mountains. Within 15 minutes I was traveling up the canyon from the eastern shelf of the Salt Lake Valley, moving from below 5,000 feet to over 7,000 feet in my car (I pitied the poor fools trying to make the climb on their bicycles!) The only hitch in the day was the fact that the first half of my hike took place in a steady, light rain shower. It was hard enough though to require me putting on my jacket (as much due to the cooler temps from the rain and altitude) and to carrying my umbrella, since I was concerned for my camera in my "supposedly" rain-resistant backpack. (Camera survived fine. Backpack is a good one.) I am sure I was quite a sight in my black tennis shoes, white socks, tan shorts, black jacket, backpack, and black umbrella! Oh well, everything stayed relatively dry and it did make it a little more enjoyable!

After surviving the climb in the rain, I was blessed by the rain stopping and the sky clearing to blue on my descent. Along the way I took lots of pictures of mountains, trees (both pines and aspens), tons of wildflowers, a squirrel who was quite agitated by my presence, and the stream that runs down the canyon alongside the trail. After descending and enjoying lunch in a picnic area, I took some photos of the Salt Lake Valley from the mouth of the canyon, which afforded a wonderful panoramic view from high on the eastern shelf.

Mill Creek Canyon was where I spent most of my hiking and canyon time when I attended Westminster College. One winter a friend and I attempted to snowshoe, on rented, plastic snowshoes, in this canyon and struggled through 10 feet or more of snow. Not very successful. Another friend and I did some low level rock climbing in this canyon, and I took at least one or two girls up the canyon for some romantic hikes. (I also took my wife, Dianne, up this same trail to Dog Lake 14 years ago when we visited Salt Lake City on our "Grand Western Loop" via car.) I remember visiting the trail heads one June and it was snowing at that altitude! It was a wonderful way to end my "Sabbath Time" visit to Salt Lake City. Paul is ensconced in Westminster College. I have enjoyed a deep draft from the well of Zion (as the Mormons call it), a locale I dearly love. My body is tired, but my spirit is refreshed. I am ready to return to Miami!

The photos are from my hike!

An Ode to Salt Lake Valley

2009-08-25T00:11:00.005-04:00

I am so JEALOUS of my son! The Salt Lake valley is such a truly beautiful place to live and he will have the opportunity to live here for the next four years as he studies at Westminster College. Yesterday I said good-bye to him, probably for four months, until Christmas time. He is ready for this adventure. He has matured before my eyes, even in these past two days as I observed him begin to settle in to his new home, meet new people, take in all the rules, regulations, and information of orientation. He is becoming a man, and one whom I am proud to say is my son. It was a difficult moment to say good-bye and hug him for the last time for quite a while. I will miss him a lot. In the past four years, as his sister had gone off to college and begun building her adult life, he and I have had the gift of significant time together, traveling together just the two of us, enjoying movies together, getting much better acquainted. Now he is embarked on his own adventure. I have done what I can as his father. I have brought him as far as I can. Now I begin to move into a more supportive role from the wings of the stage. Center stage in this drama now belongs to him. He is ready and I know he will grasp the role and perform marvelously.

As to my jealousy: it has nothing to do with his going to college. I do not wish to repeat those years (although the two years I spent at Westminster were two wonderful, marvelous, exciting and happy years in my life. I cannot say they were the best years, as I have had many other wonderful years in other places, too. But they certainly rank in the top five time periods of my life.) No, my jealousy relates to this place, the Salt Lake Valley. Since the day I first laid eyes on it (which was the day I arrived with my parents when they brought me out to begin my stay at Westminster. I had not seen or visited the campus before that day, having applied and enrolled without ever having visited!) I have been in love with this place and believe it to be one of the most beautiful homes in the mountains anywhere. (I must admit, having lived for two weeks last September, winter in Argentina, in San Carlos de Bariloche in the Argentinean Andes, that place gives Salt Lake Valley a run for its money.)

What makes this place so beautiful? It is surrounded by mountains which can be viewed from almost any spot in the valley. Unlike Denver, where the mountains are not even visible from the majority of the city, the Wasatch Mountains loom over the city on the east, and to the west of the valley there is another range of mountains, both of which seem to converge together (even though they really don't meet) to the south. The only open space is to the northwest end of the valley where the Great Salt Lake is found. In addition, the Salt Lake Valley is high desert, which means the climate if very dry. Thus the sky is usually bright blue with a burning sun, even for most of the winter. The snow is very powder-y, very light and fluffy due to the low moisture content. And all the temperatures, weather the 95-100 degree heat of summer or the 30-40 degrees of winter, due to the low humidity, is much more bearable and less oppressive than the temps in more humid regions. Finally, Salt Lake City itself is a beautiful, clean, well maintained city, with wide streets (designed originally so that a team of four oxen, pulling a cart, could make a u-turn without any problems), lots of trees, and even though it is an urban area, maintains a small-town feel.

In my 24 years of living on the coast of Florida I must truly admit that I have sand between my toes, I love the 12 months of summer we enjoy in Miami, and I love living there. I really do not want to live full time anywhere else. But sitting in the Chinese restaurant tonight, enjoying my Moo Shoo Pork, all the while staring out the window at the imposing peaks of the Wasatch Mountains, my heart felt fulfilled and at home. Someday I would truly like to return to this city and spend 3-4 months living here and enjoying the view, the outdoor recreational opportunities, the parks, the cultural events, and fully soak in what has always been one of my favorite spots on earth.

The pictures above include some shots of Westminster College campus where Paul is now living and going to college, as well as some views of the mountains which contribute to the lure and beauty of this place.

A Sacred Time of Transition

2009-08-23T11:33:00.007-04:00

A low, gray, overcast sky has greeted us on the final day of Orientation at Westminster College in Salt Lake City, Utah. Since Paul and I landed 4 days ago the weather has been hot with bright blue, cloudless skies every day. Somehow this weather today feels appropriate for a day of saying goodbye to my son as all the other parents will be doing as well. I do wonder what they will be doing about the "Regional Brunches" which are to be held outside on the lawn in front of the library?

Yesterday was a day of moving in, settling in his dorm room, meeting his roommate, checking out the college job fair to sign-up for possible work-study jobs, gathering information about the activities and life on the Westminster campus, hearing presentations from various administrative staff, and meeting and greeting various faculty. It was a day clearly designed to help students and parents transition to college life and to begin the process of separation for the parents and integration into the Westminster community for the students.

A beautiful and very inspirational event was the Convocation held late in the afternoon in the Field House. Families and friends were seated in the bleachers, with seats arranged on the main floor for the students and faculty. The sound of bagpipes announced the opening processional as the Utah Pipers Band led in the faculty, wearing their colorful academic regalia, who formed two lines to create a welcoming corridor for the new students to pass through upon entering. It had much of the pomp and circumstance of a graduation and was another clear indication of the benefits of attending a smaller college, where this sort of ritual and ceremony is still an important part of the life of the college community. Listening to the various speeches it became clear to me again of the strength of this college. Though small and relatively unknown, Westminster has a clear vision and educational philosophy which is strongly grounded in a collaborative learning model that approaches the students not just as receptacles of knowledge, but talented, intelligent, capable participants in creating a learning environment. Westminster is clearly about forming scholars and shaping thinkers for leadership and participation in the world. I remembered why I treasured my time and education at Westminster so much, and became further convinced that this was an excellent choice for Paul to make for his college education. I know deep in my heart he is going to thrive in this environment.

While I spoke in an earlier post about taking children off to college as another type of sabbatical experience, it is not typical sabbath time at all. It is a very busy time: helping both of my children settle into their new homes was extremely time consuming. It is also a very emotional time, perhaps more so for me this year because both Paul and Rebekah are living outside the state of Florida for the first time since they were born. Even so, it is a time filled with reflection. It is a different time than normal daily life. It is a time for marking passages in their lives, in my life, in our family life. It is a truly sacred time.

The pictures above include Paul settling into his dormitory room, participating in the convocation, and a sample of the view he will enjoy for the next four years, the Wasatch Mountains which are omnipresent as they loom over the Salt Lake Valley in the east.

Taking Paul to College

2009-08-20T11:46:00.007-04:00

Crickets & cicadas serenaded us all night long. Walking around Liberty Park this morning I watched the sunrise over the Wasatch Mountains. Most of the yards in this quiet neighborhood have beautiful wildflowers growing. There is definitely a small town feel to this city. Yes, we are no longer in Miami! Yesterday, after five hours of flying time, with a stopover in Dallas, Texas added in, Paul and I arrived in Salt Lake City, Utah where he will be living for the next four years as a student at Westminster College.

It is wonderful to be back in Salt Lake City. The two years I spent here as a student at Westminster back in the mid-1970's were some glorious, fun, stimulating, challenging and wonderful years. Breaking away from my roots in St. Louis, Missouri undoubtedly helped me to develop my traveling lifestyle that has taken me to Atlanta, GA; Elkhart, IN; Palm Bay and Miami, FL as places I have called home and to almost all of the 48 lower states, plus France, England, Italy, Israel, Argentina & Peru, as places I have visited. In my heart, I truly believe this experience at Westminster College in Salt Lake City, so far from home in Florida where he has lived for his first 18 years of life, will bring similar possibilities into Paul's life.

When we touched down in Salt Lake City yesterday my stomach suddenly filled with butterflies. I don't fully understand it yet, whether I am excited for him, nervous for him, or what. I will explore those reflections in another post later this trip. For now we are off to set-up a bank account for Paul, purchase needed items for his dormitory room, and continue exploring his new home. The pictures with this post were taken at the Wildflowers B&B where we are staying. It is just three blocks from the campus and is run by two lovely women who provided a marvelous breakfast. Paul is framed by the Wasatch Mountains to the east (which is why they are washed out by the early morning sun), I am standing in front of the B&B, and the chickens live in this coop in the back yard (we have not had eggs for breakfast yet, but I'm betting we will!)

Another Type of Sabbath Experience - Taking Children Off to College!

2009-08-12T22:55:00.007-04:00

For the past four days I have been embarked on another type of Sabbatical experience: accompanying my oldest, my daughter Rebekah, to Pennsylvania to help her settle into her new apartment. She has moved to Carlisle, PA and is enrolled in Dickinson Law School of Penn State University. My little girl is off on a new adventure, passing another milestone, and taking another giant step into adulthood. Is all this truly happening? Is she really becoming a Law School student, embarking on a graduate degree, in a far northern state? Where did the past 22 years go? I really am proud of her and so happy for the opportunity she has before her. I know she will do well and achieve amazing things. But as any parent who has experienced this knows, it is such a bittersweet time. Although I must admit, the past four days have been so busy - driving from Miami to PA in just over 24 hours, with a six hour stop to sleep and a two hour stop in IKEA, Baltimore, to purchase furniture (more on that adventure in a moment); several trips to WalMart and Target and another trip back to Baltimore IKEA to pick-up furniture and a variety of items one needs to set up house in a new location; hours spent assembling furniture; a little time today to explore the town and see where Bekah will be living and studying for the next three years - that I have had precious little time to sit and think and reflect and actually allow the grief feelings at this step to take hold of me. Perhaps tomorrow on the flight home, when she actually takes me to the airport and she makes another trip to Baltimore IKEA!

So, what is up with IKEA? Bekah was told by customer service when she called them weeks ago from Miami that they could deliver her furniture to her apartment in PA for a fee of $99 if she purchased it in the store. They also said if she did so before 3:00 p.m. they could deliver it that same day! So, we dashed to Baltimore from Miami, barely stopping to sleep, to arrive at IKEA before 3:00 p.m. on Monday (a highway construction delay topped off with an accident scene in the middle of it cost us about 30 minutes, but we still made 3:00 p.m. Hooray!) At the home delivery desk we learned they ONLY deliver to her region in PA on WEDNESDAY OR FRIDAY! So it would not have mattered when we arrived on Monday, the furniture would not arrive before Wednesday!!! Of course, the car was loaded to the gills so we could not take the furniture ourselves at that moment. She arranged for the delivery and we made our way to Carlisle, found her apartment (a ground floor in a nice row house), met her landlord, did the walk-thru, signed the lease, and unloaded the car. The next day we trekked back to IKEA in Baltimore (about a 90 minute trip) to pick-up the furniture ourselves. Upon arrival back in Carlisle we began assembling the furniture, starting with the bed. After getting the sideboards attached to the head & foot board we were ready for step 6, attaching the middle support beam. Could not find it! Momentarily panicked that we had messed up royally when we unpacked the bed frame at IKEA in order to fit it in the Hyundai Accent and thought we might have left the support beam in the box! After Bekah called IKEA we learned that no, we had not messed up, THEY DID! It seems this is one of the furniture pieces sold in multiple packages, and you must purchase each package and pay for them separately. On Monday when she purchased the furniture, one of the store employees went through the self-service section and pulled her furniture for her and placed it on the cart. So we had not gathered it ourselves and had no idea that there were three parts to the bed. The IKEA customer service employee's response when that was explained to him was, "Oh, sorry about that." Since we could not finish the bed without that piece, Bekah has been sleeping on her mattress on the floor inside the bed frame. Plus, she will now have to drive back to IKEA Baltimore on Thursday after taking me to the Harrisburg airport! IKEA is still her favorite store, for the merchandise! She loves their product. But it has slipped significantly in her eyes in terms of their Customer Service!

Aside from the furniture difficulties, we have had a wonderful time together. It has been marvelous to explore her new home town with her. Carlisle is a lovely, very old, small town in rural Pennsylvania. It sits in the shadows of the Allegheny mountains to the West and North of town, in a beautiful valley still filled with farmland. It is a town rich in history, having been founded before the Revolutionary War; having been visited by George Washington who used it as a staging area to assist in quelling the Whiskey Rebellion in western PA; playing a significant role in the Civil War campaign decided at Gettysburg (which lies just about 20 miles to the South.) Dickinson College was founded in 1783 by Benjamin Rush, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and the Law School founded about 50 years later in the early 1800's.

While the time with Bekah has been packed full of activity, it has also been a rewarding time for me, having this final, father/daughter time with her. I don't know if we shall ever have time like this again, or if so, how soon. She is just about all grown up. In three years she will be a law school graduate and quite possibly on her way to being married. She will undoubtedly end up with a very busy, very demanding law position and will have less and less time for her father. I am not crying poor me, I know this and I really do want this for her. She is pursuing a dream she has had since she was in elementary school and she first declared at the dinner table she was going to be a lawyer and a Supreme Court Justice. I am totally confident she will achieve those dreams. I am just extremely pragmatic and realize the road to those dreams will involve me less and less. Which makes me extremely grateful for any special time I receive with her, such as these past four days. It has truly been a blessing and I am so glad I was able to enjoy this first step in her adventure with her.

Next week I get to accompany Paul as he begins his own adventure: first year of college at Westminster College in Salt Lake City, Utah! Check back in a week for further reflections as my new Sabbatical experience doubles with my second child leaving home for schooling outside the state of Florida!

The pictures above are samples of Rebekah's new life in PA!

The Power of Memory: Remembering & Reliving the Sabbatical

2009-07-23T10:32:00.009-04:00

While on a roll, I want to post something other than a complaint-based rant. There have actually been a number of experiences and reflections I have enjoyed this month, related to my Sabbatical of last year, that I just never found the time to sit down and write about on my blog. (That is part of the source of the complaint-based rant.) So, today, my last day of vacation in Chicago, I want to share some reflections on remembering the Sabbatical this month.

When July 1 rolled around this year I discovered a strong sense of melancholy also arrived with the turning of the calendar page. I began remembering exactly where I was and what I was doing one year ago: Paul and I had just arrived in Minnesota; Paul and I were entering the Boundary Waters via canoe; there were no fire-works on the Fourth of July last year as Paul and I were deep in the north woods, far away from civilization. That experience has continued almost all month. In fact, other people have joined me in remembering. My daughter-in-law, Erika, commented last night that I have set a precedent now, two years in a row in Chicago visiting them in July. There are now expectations that I will return to Chicago again in July now that the precedent is set! It was also noted shortly after we arrived this year that last year at this time we had actually just left Chicago to head to St. Louis. I was also very aware on my father's birthday this year, July 19, that last year we were in St. Louis just a few days before his birthday to celebrate with him and this year he is no longer with us, having died in February.

There was another incident earlier in the month that evoked a slightly different take on this nostalgia. Early in July one Saturday morning, in fact I believe it was the Fourth, I made my morning walk to the bay and upon arrival was greeted by several folks embarking from the landing area for a day of fishing from kayaks. As I stood on the landing watching two of the kayaks paddle off toward the bay into the rising sun it seemed to me they were in the wrong place. They should have been paddling away from the Sawbill Landing heading out into a wilderness adventure in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in northern Minnesota!

There is no memory I can recall of ever having experienced this same sort of nostalgia so strongly as I am experiencing right now around my Sabbatical experience of one year ago. Will this be prominent in my thoughts and feelings for the next three months? Will I in essence relive the Sabbatical in some form this year? And what about in the years to come? Will I have some of these same thoughts and feelings every year during July, August, September and October? Vivid memories are a common part of my life. But never do I recall this strong recollection of where I was and what I was doing at the same time one year ago as I am experiencing with the Sabbatical. Perhaps this is another indication of what a once-in-a-lifetime, life-changing, foundational experience was my adventure of last year.

(The pictures are from the time in the Boundary Waters last year. Just a chance to share more of my thousands of photos with you and to share some of my nostalgia.)

The Difficulty of Learning the Sabbath Tango

2009-07-22T17:59:00.004-04:00

Here it is July 22, 2009, and I am making my first post for the month! Last year, even with six days in the wilderness of Northern Minnesota, I already had several posts by this time. In fact, by the 22nd of July, 2008, I was on my way back to Miami after the first three weeks of my Sabbatical feeling very refreshed, relaxed and ready for my South American adventure! This July 22 I am finishing up my one-week vacation, enjoying a final full day in Chicago, and wondering where the vacation time went to so fast?!? One-week of vacation is not nearly enough time off to accomplish what a vacation needs to do in terms of restoring the body, mind and soul. For example, I am just now getting over a cold that is trying to become bronchitis. This hit me two days ago, about half-way through the vacation. It took my body 4 days to realize it was on vacation before it could consider whether it wanted to get sick for vacation or not! It took my mind a good three days to realize it was on vacation before it began to shift into relaxation mode. It has taken my spirit about six days to realize it was on vacation to where I was ready to begin engaging in spirit-renewing activities, such as writing in my journal, or my blog, and reading a book just for fun! Of course, I return to Miami tomorrow and back to work on Friday, so body will have had about 4 days of vacation, 2-3 of them fighting illness; my mind will have had about 5 days of vacation, also 2-3 days of that clouded by my body's illness; and my spirit will have had about 2 days of vacation.

And that is how most of my time off this year is shaping up. We had this week in Chicago to celebrate my wife Dianne's birthday (and we had a wonderful time with our family in Chicago, Jim, Erika, and granddaughters, Madeleine & Shelby.) I will next take a 4.5 days early in August to drive with my daughter,Rebekah, to Pennsylvania to help her get settled in her apartment for Law School which begins later that month. Then, after returning to Miami, a week later I will fly with my son, Paul, out to Salt Lake City, Utah, to help him get settled in Westminster College for his freshman year. I will take about 8 days to make that trip, and the last two days will probably be alone time for me as it appears that the orientation schedule does not include parents on Monday or Tuesday. (That is fine with me, at least I will get a little bit of solo vacation out of the trip!) Then Dianne and I are planning to take a 10 day trip this September, probably to California. Perhaps that will be a long enough experience to bring full refreshment and renewal to my body, mind & soul?!

I am not really complaining, as much as I am bemoaning several realities. First, the fact that we expect too much out of too little far too often in our society. We expect a one or two week vacation to make up for the other 50 highly stressful, highly taxing, highly exhausting weeks we spend at work, at volunteer activities, at household chores, etc. We expect one-hour a week on Sunday mornings to renew our relationship with God and to restore our spiritual health to a balanced place to take us through the week. Our bodies, minds and spirits need regular renewal time and periodic intense, extended renewal time, for good health. It is the way we were created. Besides all the medical studies highlighting this truth, God's plan as detailed in the Bible also teaches us the same thing. God established the Sabbath at the very beginning creating the world: after six days of work, God rested. God knew when to take a break and God taught us that we need to do the same thing. Yet how infrequently do we really take a weekly Sabbath? If we are lucky enough any more to not work on Saturday or Sunday we almost always fill both days with chores and other high levels of activity. How often do we stop to ask ourselves if something we are planning to do will be renewing to our body, mind, spirit, or family relationships?

The other reality I find very sad is that there is so little acknowledgement of the importance of family and family relationships in the structure of our employment practices. I remember when the Family Leave Act was passed by Congress back in the '90's that mandated employers to allow mothers and fathers time off work for the birth or adoption of a baby. It was a major battle to get this law passed! Most employers do not allow for separate sick-leave days for caring for a family member: an employee must use their sick leave, which in most cases is pretty minimal for the year, especially when it must be divided between the employee and one or more dependents. Most employers do not allow for time off for attending to other family care situations: like attending graduations, taking children off to college, etc. To do such a parent must use vacation time. Now I realize there might always be people who would abuse some benefit, but I also realize that we as a society are extremely driven to succeed at all costs, especially when it comes to turning a profit. We have very little humane and compassionate practices in our economic, business, and social relationships. And the church gets sucked right into the same attitudes and practices. This is very sad.

But I am thankful for a caring and understanding congregation of people who, while they expect a lot out of their pastor and like for him to be available 24/7/365, still realize he is a human being who needs time away for renewal and refreshment. They are fairly flexible and as long as I am there at the critical moments, for the most part they allow me space and encourage me to find Sabbath Time so that I can be healthy, whole, and a better person and pastor. Finding such is part of the difficult dance known as Sabbath Tango. As I learned in Argentina one does not pick-up the Tango, and definitely not master it, in just a few lessons. It takes years of practice. Even so with the Sabbath Tango.

(The pictures include: A brown bear cooling himself at the Brookfield Zoo, he definitely seems to have a better handle on the Sabbath Tango than I do; Dianne & I with our children preparing to go out to celebrate her birthday with a fabulous dinner; a view of the Chicago River from the boat tour we enjoyed; a photo of me & Dianne and taking a photo of ourselves and the Chicago skyline in the Cloud Gate in Millenium Park; and a photo of Dianne, Rebekah & Paul at the sign for Millenium Park.)

Final Sabbatical Event a Celebration

2009-06-30T16:23:00.004-04:00

Argentina has been making a big splash in the news recently, but it was not Governor Sanford's mistress or the parliamentary elections which captured our focus at Christ Congregational Church this past weekend. No, we gathered as a congregation to celebrate the marvelous gift of renewal pastor & congregation experienced this past year with an Argentinean dinner, surrounded by the sights and sounds of Argentina in our Fellowship Hall. With some photo posters decorating the walls bringing Buenos Aires, Bariloche, and Machu Picchu to life, about 40 members and friends of the church gathered to enjoy las comidas de Argentina, prepared by Tango's Restaurant & Bakery. Typical fare such as Ensalada Rusa (potato salad w/peas & carrots), Chorizos, Entrana ala Verdeo (grilled churrasco steak with a Chardonnay scallion sauce), Gnocchi Alfredo and a variety of mini desserts, was enjoyed by all with the Tango music of Carlos Gardel serenading in the background.

After dinner I shared some final reflections on the Sabbatical experience for myself as Pastor, with a montage of photos from Argentina and Peru projected in the background. Those reflections were drawn primarily from this blog, so I will just summarize them in this post. I began by reminiscing on the dreamlike quality of the adventure of twelve weeks in South America, seventeen weeks of not working, learning Spanish as an alien in distant lands. The primary blessing I would identify of the Sabbatical was the time for reflection on my life, on the world, on my work life and on my call to ministry. That has especially become clear to me eight months removed from the experience. It is so difficult to claim time in my regular schedule for simply sitting and reflecting on life and the world. For a pastor that is especially sad. Historically, reflection time has been a major element of the pastoral role and a significant part of why we are given the privilege of financial support by a community for this ministry. Without ample reflection time it becomes increasingly difficult to adequately feed the people of the community through sermons and writings.

In addition to ample time for reflection, I summarized my learning on the sabbatical in five areas:

1. The basics of the Spanish language. Difficult as it has been to maintain the level of fluency I developed in Argentina, I did learn the basic structure of the language, the basic verb tenses and conjugations, and a basic vocabulary on which I can build. I know I will continue to grow in my ability to use Spanish and I see evidence of it, albeit baby steps, every day.

2. How much I love to travel and how much it nurtures my soul. I have already reflected on this in another part of the blog, but it is clear to me that I need to continue to seek ways and means to incorporate significant travel experiences into my life. It is one of the most renewing experiences possible for me.

3. A renewed sense of what is truly important for me. First: my family. Second: Paying attention to and nurturing quality relationships with people. That includes my family, but also those to whom I minister as pastor. Third: Nurturing time for reflection about life. Fourth: Importance of developing outside interests beyond my work as pastor.

4. The importance of maintaining a flexible and creative approach to life, relationships, and spirituality. When we are rigid in our desire to seek control of life, we are less able to go with the flow. As a result, life becomes more of a burden and less enjoyable. When we can adapt with some flexibility to whatever situations arise in our lives, then we can find the good, even in the bad, and we can continue to see the beauty and blessings in life all around us.

5. The importance of trusting myself and others to accomplish what needs to be done. We completed the Sabbatical Grant Application within three months time. I planned my time away within a year. I went away and the congregation did not fall apart. In fact, it thrived. I return from the Sabbatical with a new freedom to be Pastor in this place in a new way. I am taking clear steps to take on less responsibility, to trust others to assume more responsibility, to support, encourage, and assist them in that process. The result will be, I am sure, a stronger church community more completely living out its call to be the body of Christ, the people of God in this place. It will also lead to a healthier, more renewed, and better pastor, who will find the time for reflection and be better able to inspire and guide the people of God.

On Saturday, with the assistance of the Rev. Dr. John Manrodt from the Counseling Ministry of South Florida, about 22 people returned to spend time reflecting on what the sabbatical experience was like for them as a congregation. After some creative exercises to help stimulate that thinking and sharing, we spent some time looking toward the future and what it means for us as a church and pastor that we have had this experience. Some positive plans began to grow out of those discussions and everyone seemed to leave with excitement and a forward thinking approach to the future of Christ Congregational Church.

While this weekend will probably be the final planned event related to the Sabbatical, the experience of planning for, living the adventure, and re-engaging life and ministry afterwards, will continue to have an impact and influence for years to come. It was a marvelous gift. For me from the people of Christ Congregational Church in terms of their support and their allowing me the time to pursue. For all of us from the people of the Lily Foundation who made it possible financially with their generous Clergy Renewal Grant.

The adventure continues, though not in South America, but right here in Miami and I look forward to continuing to reflect upon Sabbath and sabbatical concerns, especially the dance between Sabbath time and regular time, the Sabbath Tango.

A Celebration 18 Years in the Making!

2009-05-23T00:07:00.003-04:00

My son is graduating from High School tomorrow! Eighteen years ago when I held him in my arms at his birth this moment seemed an eternity away. Over the years there were even some periods in our struggles with him around his studies and his attentiveness to school where we wondered if he would actually make it to this moment. But despite all our worries and fears he has arrived and arrived in very good shape. He has matured, taking giant steps forward this past year, into a fascinating, creative, deep-thinking young man. He is finding his talents and calling in life (not that it is necessarily settled yet, but he does have a direction to his journey that he is walking with some intentionality) which he is embracing, even as he continues to remain open to exploring more areas of possible interest and creative expression. He is enrolled in the college of his choice, which also luckily chose him, and with a final summer of freedom before him, is actually quite ready, even anxious, to be finished with high school and ready to move on to the adventure that awaits him in college.

And so I am sitting in a hotel room in Melbourne, Florida, at midnight, having enjoyed an evening of celebration with my son, his mother and step-mother, his sister, one uncle, and sister's boyfriend and wondering how did I get here and where did the years go so quickly?!?! I don't really "feel" old, yet my daughter has been out of college for one year and is headed off to law school in August and my son is graduating high school and flying off to college out west this year as well. Eighteen years have literally flown by, when viewed from this end of the chronological spectrum. This is one powerful reason why sabbath time, time-off, and time to relish and reflect on life is so important to me. Because it all passes so quickly. Especially when one is caught up in the myriad duties of working, pastoring a church, living life. Yet, in spite of a recent sabbatical to help regain my focus on time-off and reflective time, I still struggle to incorporate into my schedule time to write, time to reflect, time to just be.

At the same time, as I do reflect on my life, it is very good. I am engaged in very meaningful ministry at both the church I pastor and through part-time, on-call chaplain work for VITAS Hospice. I live in a beautiful place, South Florida, with near ideal weather 90% of the year. I play golf once a week, walk several times a week, encounter a wide variety of wildlife (amazing since I live in an urban area). I am surrounded by very loving, accepting family and wonderfully supportive, even if at times a bit challenging, church members. My life is rich and for the most part enjoyable and meaningful. Perhaps I need to take a step-back from, a sabbath break from, my expectations about sabbath time and reflection time, and relish the time I have to enjoy the life with which I have been blessed? Perhaps my reflection time is quality enough if I find the moments to think about life and appreciate life, even if I don't write those reflections down anywhere? Perhaps my occasional posts on this blog, my sporadic entries in my journal, are satisfactory reflection times for the time being and when I need to engage in more frequent writings, I will find the time, I will make the time, God will bless me with the opportunity, through another sabbatical, another vacation, another period of intentionality?

But for right now, I am relishing and wallowing in the celebration of my son, my youngest child, graduating from High School! Way to go, Paul!!

Holy Week Sabbatical

2009-04-11T11:51:00.002-04:00

Holy Week has always been a time of Sabbatical for me. Especially the days from Thursday through Easter. I know it sounds crazy for a pastor to make such a statement. After all, aren't these days the busiest days of the church year?!? And yet, I have always tried to slow them down, and allow them to be all about the worship events. As much as possible I have refused to schedule weddings on Easter weekend; I have refrained from visiting folks, unless they land in the hospital or have a real crisis in their life at the moment; I have kept all meetings off the calendar. It has not been particularly hard to do these things, as most people in the church are pretty focused on the holiday, or Spring Break from school, and engaged in family activities more than church activities (except the worship.) So even though there is work for me in terms of getting ready for the various worship experiences, several sermons or meditations to write, liturgies to plan, and all the myriad details of making sure all the candles, sound systems, etc. are set properly, there is a sense of Sabbatical time to all of it for me. For instance, I myself prepare the Fellowship Hall for the Maundy Thursday celebration. I recreate, [somewhat, with the help of a member who owns an Import store with merchandise from Morocco] an "Upper Room" atmosphere. We set up a station for washing feet in the center of the room on a Turkish rug, with basins and pitchers and grass baskets, etc. I surround that with the round dining tables and spread around the room lots of candles. It creates a very effective mood for the worship. All this set-up takes me about 2 hours, but I approach it with a sense of spiritual practice, a form of service to the people coming and to God. It is a time to reflect upon the coming worship, even to identify with those disciples Jesus sent on ahead to prepare the room for the supper that last night before his death.

All the preparation for the events of this weekend provide the same sort of reflective time for me. In a very real way time slows down and I somewhat glide through these three days into the Easter celebration. I am able to prepare what I need to do with moments of reflection along the way and without stressing over getting everything done. It is nice to be able to find such a rhythm of reflection in the midst of my regular work (although holiday times are hardly "regular"). I wish there were a way to incorporate such a relaxed, less-stressed out rhythm into my regular work schedule.

A Birthday Gift to Myself

2009-04-02T18:24:00.003-04:00

It was a type of "mini-sabbatical" today. Since it was my birthday I decided to take most of the day "off" from work. An additional round of golf for the week was my gift to myself. About 9 a.m. I called my regular golf partner, Frank, to see what he was doing for the day, and then we spontaneously visited a course we have played before, but not our regular course. The day was beautiful, bright blue skies, with clouds floating by in lazy fashion. It is a slightly easier course than we normally play, but even so, Frank shot one of his best rounds in a long time, an 81! I told him it was my "gift" to him (to let him beat me on my birthday! I shot an 87, still pretty good.) Being in a good mood after that, Frank bought me lunch at his favorite French Cafe. We enjoyed Prosciutto d'Amore on ciabbata bread sandwiches, and French coffee! Nice, relaxing morning! After getting cleaned up I then spent a little time in the afternoon engaging in pastoral care work, visiting some of my parishioners who live at East Ridge Retirement Village. I know you are not supposed to work on a "sabbatical," but I have been needing to see some of these folks for quite some time and they were very pleased to see me. Pastoral care, especially of this sort, is actually very enjoyable and even somewhat relaxing for me, sort of like visiting good friends. Especially since the conversations for these folks include some sharing of my life and of events and activities at the church, as a way of sharing news and connecting them with the wider world, as well as listening to them share about their lives, their families and friends, etc.

These sorts of days need to be a regular part of all of our lives. I know they are difficult for me to take and enjoy, as I am very responsible and very driven in terms of how much work I am aware is always needing my attention and energy. Yet I also know that God's design for humanity and the creation includes a regular sabbath every seventh day. While I am pretty good about taking my day off each week, there needs to be regular special days of rest, reflection, meditation, in my schedule for me to be re-energized and for me to do more than just the regular work that is part of a pastor's schedule. More and more that work has become task oriented and less and less the work of one who reflects on life and seeks the deeper theological insights into life.

But today was a day to reclaim some of that ability. It was a day for me. It was a day for sharing with family and friends. It was a day for thinking about life and for blogging. Now if I can just claim a day like this sooner than a year from now when my birthday rolls around again. Then I will be making real progress on implementing a learning from my sabbatical!

Another type of mini-sabbatical

2009-03-30T17:29:00.003-04:00

"We have lost the ability and time to reflect on our lives today." With these words Ted Runions opened the retreat for the Board of Directors of the Florida Conference United Church of Christ which I recently attended. Everything proceeds at such an accelerated pace, yet we have less time, because we are expected to do more than we used to do. He reminded us that a “retreat” is a gift of time to stop, reflect, and think about what we are doing, why we are doing it, and how it is done. His opening comments reminded me of the purpose of a sabbatical. They also brought to mind how much I treasured and enjoyed the four-month gift of time to do just that in my own life. The longer I am back, the more I try to schedule and create such a time to reflect on my own life in the regular schedule of my days with increasing difficulty and frustration, the more I realize what a truly precious gift were those four months in 2008. Increasingly I feel like the crazy woodpecker who has taken to beating his head against the window in front of my desk. The bird must see its reflection and is either attacking this "other" bird which it feels is a threat, or is trying to make contact, but just keeps banging into this hard glass. I keep trying to find time in my daily routine to write in my journal, or write on my blog, or just sit and think. But it just does not happen. My days are filled with work duties, family duties, and when there appears to be time in the evening, I am often just too tired to focus beyond the television, or bed. I am very thankful that I keep finding small blocks of time, like my father's funeral weekend, or this Board of Director's Retreat weekend, to step away from my regular schedule. And I do some reflecting during those times. But it does not feel as if they are enough to deeply, richly feed my soul.

The Board of Directors' retreat was a sort of mini-sabbatical. Not only did it allow time for reflecting on the work of the Board and on my role with the Board, but the facilitator also helped us identify our Myers-Briggs Personality Types (I am an INFJ) toward the end of helping us clarify the personality of the Board of Directors and giving us some insight how this information can help in our work and functioning as a group. This personal information, however, also provided me an opportunity to engage in some personal reflection. I gained some new insight and recalled some old insight, into my personality type and I was able to reflect somewhat on why I am the way I am and revisit some understanding about how I function and what it most healthy for me. For instance, it was reinforced for me one more time, in one more way, that as an "I" (introvert) type, I draw my energy from time alone. Thus, it is vitally important for me to have quiet time to reflect, to be alone, in order to be re-energized. My daily solo walks are important. Time to write would be a very important positive exercise for me. I have been learning and claiming all these insights in many ways the past 8 months. This was one more confirmation about this self-knowledge. The trick is, as I initially stated, finding and claiming the time to commit to these activities.

A Different Type of Sabbath Time

2009-02-21T22:11:00.003-05:00

Sabbath time it definitely is. But it is such a strange type of sabbath time. I am speaking of the period of time we take for initial mourning and grieving when a loved one dies. I totally understand why it is necessary. I learned early on Tuesday morning, February 17th, that my father had died at about 6:00 a.m. Central Standard Time in Mountain Home, Arkansas. For the next three days I had to make arrangements to travel to Mountain Home; contact family members who would want to know the news; take care of details at work for me to be absent on a Sunday morning and for 5 days total; and cover some of my regular work duties for those three days. All of that I did, but with a lot of distraction. My mind constantly wandered. I found it very difficult to remain focused. And I was not always distracted by thoughts of my father. Sometimes, I was. Sometimes it was thoughts of my mother, who has been dead for 10 years. Sometimes, I could not tell you what it was, other than my mind would just wander and I did not have the energy, or desire, to stay focused on one task for a very long time.

So, I fully understand the need we have as human beings, as spiritual beings, as emotional creatures, for sabbath time, down time, grieving time. Not that we can wrap up all of the grieving we might need to do in a few days. But, it is important for us to spend this time doing very little. It is important to spend time gathering with family we might not have seen for years. It is important to spend time allowing our minds to wander, for memories to surface and be reflected upon and rehearsed and sat with. It is important to spend time sharing stories about our deceased loved one, about our childhoods, about our separate and joint experiences with the one we are missing.

Sabbath time is a time for renewal. It is also a time to honor God. And during this type of sabbath time, our grieving sabbath, we honor God by honoring the loved one who has died. By stopping our regular lives, our regular routines, we say to the world, and to ourselves, "This person was important in my life, to me. The loss of this person needs to be marked and remembered. The life of this person needs to be celebrated and honored with respect and love. This person is a child of God and their life needs to be celebrated and given back to God with gratitude and thanksgiving." All of this we say through our action of taking sabbath time to mourn, grieve, and celebrate.

All this I am taking time for right now in Mountain Home, Arkansas and St. Louis, Missouri. All this I am engaged in with my brothers and sisters, uncles and friends of my father, and with the support of my wife, Dianne, and the support of many myriad prayers being lifted up for me and my family by family and friends and colleagues and church members not present physically, but clearly felt spiritually. This is a very different type of Sabbath, but it is every bit as important as regular weekly sabbath time and periodic Sabbatical time. And it is a gift, one which I treasure.

Pastor as Poet Needs Time for Reflection

2009-02-19T11:02:00.002-05:00

Since returning from my Sabbatical there has been an increasing restlessness and dis-ease in my soul. I returned to work with renewed energy. I was well rested; my mind and my spirit were rejuvenated. My stress level was greatly lowered and my ability to cope with stress without unhealthy reactions was improved.

However, as I move further along in my work as pastor, I find it difficult to keep my attention and my energy focused. Initially I attributed this to the difficulty of returning to work routine after four months away from that routine. But it has been three-plus months back at the routine (almost as long as the entire sabbatical had been) and those difficulties persist, instead of lessening.

Today I read an article on the Christian Century web-site which struck a chord deep within and perhaps begins to help me identify something of what may be going on. The article is excerpted from M. Craig Barnes's book The Pastor as Minor Poet, published by Eerdmans. Barnes teaches at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and he presents another way of viewing the role and work of the local church pastor: as a poet. He is not advocating for us to write verse, but rather describing our calling with the analogy. Here is a brief excerpt from the article.

In contrast to the biblical and theological poets, the pastoral poet has the unique calling of making sense of their words in light of the dust and grit of daily life in a parish. And unlike those whom society has traditionally revered as poets, whose vision of the deeper reality is nurtured through quiet sanctuary, if not isolation, the pastor-poet lives with a crowded and noisy soul. Central to what it means to be ordained is to open the doors of one's soul to the complexities, pathos, longings and even sins of those the pastor has vowed to serve.

At the same time, the pastor is even more attentive to the unapparent presence of God among the people of the congregation. One of the reasons that people need pastors is precisely that God is always present but usually not apparent. It takes a poet to find that presence beneath the layers of strategy for coping with the feeling of its absence. Thus, the parish minister's soul becomes a crucible in which sacred visions are ground together with the common and at times profane experiences of human life. Out of this sacred mix, pastors find their deep poetry, not only for the pulpit but also for making eternal sense out of the ordinary routines of the congregation.

Pastors' days are filled with committee meetings that never end and accomplish little; confirmation classes with kids who can't be cool unless they look bored; races across town to make a hospital call, only to discover that the patient was just discharged (You're not getting credit for this one); counseling sessions with people who don't like their jobs but can't afford to quit them because they need them to afford lifestyles they don't really like either; funerals where they fight back their tears long enough to lead worship; weddings where they fight back aggressive photographers; conflicts with people who just won't leave the church; and the relentless return of Sundays that demand another profound sermon. And through it all, the attentive pastor is constantly spinning the poetry, helping the congregation to see the sacred subtext of their lives.

As poets, pastors are always looking for a portal that invites passage into a deeper, more mysterious—and thus true—understanding of what is seen. …

What if, instead of working so hard at omnicompetence, pastors were free to work hard simply at being better poets? And is it possible that the call to parish ministry can come not at the expense of our souls, but at their delight—the joy known only by those who can behold mystery and truth at work just beneath the surface of all the belief and all the reality of parish life?

One of the things learned on my sabbatical was the importance for me, as pastor, to have time to reflect on life, on the world, on the church. Without realizing it, I tapped into the importance of the pastor as poet, who “is always looking for a portal that invites passage into a deeper, more mysterious – and thus true – understanding of what is seen.” But to nurture that role, we need time. And the modern pastoral schedule does not allow for that sort of reflective, meditative, time. I am usually lucky to find a few minutes a day for quiet prayer! (Actually, I have been very good about maintaining the discipline of my daily four mile walk to the bay which provides me about 80 minutes of solitude and quiet time for prayer and meditation as I walk. It may also be part of the time necessary for me to use for poetic reflection.)

It is not easy to reclaim one’s schedule in order to direct it more for “poetic reflection” than for “technocratic managerial” tasks. Everything in our culture entices us and draws us toward “omnicompetence” and a technician mentality that approaches life as a problem for which we just need to identify the right solution, the right formula to correct and improve it, the right script.

The attitude and view of the poet, however, is an embracing of life to fully drink it in, fully absorb it, and then begin to understand the deeper meanings above, below, and within. Life is not a problem to be corrected, but a wonderful ride, or marvelous adventure, to be experienced fully through complete and total immersion. The poet does not shy away from pain, or try to mask or cover-up the sorrow and suffering, but embraces these experiences, too, as fully part of what it means to be alive.

Perhaps my restlessness arises from a need deep in my soul for this sort of exploration and embracing of life. While on sabbatical I uncovered once again my love for writing, especially free-flowing, reflective writing, and I discovered how nurturing this practice is for my soul. Since I have been back to work it has been difficult to find the time to spend at my computer, or with my journal, pen in hand, and just write freely about … anything… and everything. Whether my schedule and responsibilities allow for me to fully do so or not, clearly I need to consciously commit to nurturing my poet!

Echoes of South America in the Midwest U.S.

2009-01-21T22:09:00.007-05:00

Located in south-central Missouri in the beginning of the Ozarks is the small town of West Plains. After driving for 3 hours from St. Louis I stopped in a local McDonald’s to get some lunch. As I approached the counter my jaw dropped in amazement. There on the menu board, in bold lettering was the title “McCafe.” Underneath the title was a listing of the variety of coffee drinks – cappuccinos, lattes, espressos, etc. – available for purchase. Was I back in Buenos Aires, Argentina?! As I shared with the young woman working the counter, I had never seen a McCafe until I saw them in the McDonald’s in Argentina. She related that they were proud to be the first rural community to have a McCafe. As far as I know, they are the first McDonald’s in the United States to have one. (Although my brother who lives in St. Louis tells me they have been appearing in the St. Louis McDonald's restaurants for the last six months or so.) And just a few months ago, I thought I had discovered something unique which McDonald’s had added just for the South American culture!

That was not the only echo of South America I experienced on that drive, though. As I drove through the Ozarks in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas their appearance reminded me of the drive through the Sacred Valley from Cusco to Ollantaytambo in Peru. That landscape was intriguing because it was clearly an agricultural area, yet the colors were all various shades of yellow, brown and tan. Driving through the Ozarks I was greeted by a palette of various shades of yellow, brown and tan! The trees were bereft of leaves, except for the stands of pines. Mindful that it was winter time and the fields were fallow and dry here, it dawned on me that the fields in Peru were evidently dry and showing the colors of late winter, early springs, before the rains. More than that, though, the topography was also similar, for this was the foothills of the Ozarks with the road running along the tops of a ridge and gentle rolling hills spreading out all around. The Sacred Valley in Peru is a high plain located in the Peruvian Andes, providing a vista of rolling hills spreading out to the mountains that surround the valley.

When Dianne and I were experiencing the Sacred Valley I remember commenting to her how much the views reminded me of Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming. Now I have been reminded of those views in another part of my homeland and it reinforces for me the truth of how much more similar our experiences are throughout the world than different; how similar are our lands; how similar are our dreams; how similar is our world. When we see wonderful sights in our homeland we often yawn at them. When we see similar wonderful sights in another land we label them exotic. Of course they are similar, for the same God created all the world, all people and nations, all the universe. Our similarities as well as our differences should be celebrated. Our common experiences should bind us closer together in common understanding. And we can learn to celebrate the exotic all around us and treasure the beauty we have right outside our doors.

The pictures above illustrate the similarity between the Ozarks region of southern Missouri and northern Arkansas and the Sacred Valley of Peru. The first picture is a lake in the Sacred Valley and the second picture is Lake Norfork in northern Arkansas. The third picture is the rolling hills of the Ozarks in southern Missouri and the last picture is the rolling hills of the Sacred Valley. As you can tell, my time in South America is still very alive for me.

Incorporating Sabbatical Learnings Not-so-easy!

2008-12-31T17:04:00.007-05:00

Sixty-eight days ago I returned to Miami from South America. That is one week shy of how many days I spent in Argentina this year. It has been 59 days since I last posted an entry on this blog. I am struggling with the adaptations and changes to my life that I had hoped to incorporate following my Sabbatical. I returned to Miami a changed person. The problem is, I returned to the same life, the same job, the same church. Old patterns were very easy to slide back into and developing new patterns has been very tough.

Initially I was trying to ease back into work, into the community, into my family. I have spent a lot of quality time with family - paying more attention to my relationship with my wife, going to the NASCAR races at Homestead Speedway with my son one weekend, spending quality time with my daughter who has moved in with us full-time while she works in Miami and applies to law schools. Since I have been home I had the privilege of baptizing my three granddaughters; celebrated a quiet Thanksgiving with my wife, stepdaughter, her husband, and 3-month old baby girl; celebrated my 14th wedding anniversary with my wife by giving her a new dog, (a zukon: a bijon-frise/shih-tzu mixed breed); and of course, celebrated Christmas. That is just the family activity.

In addition the activity at church has slowly accelerated with the holiday season. It has all been good, but very busy and not a time for incorporating changed patterns. What I realize now is that the holiday season already involves changes in our regular living patterns. So, to try to make changes in a changing time is very, very difficult. Probably impossible.

A few things changes that I hoped to make I have made good progress toward implementing. Probably the one thing I have followed through on the best has been a renewed commitment to walking for exercise. One of the changes that took place for me in South America was the loss of 30 lbs. of weight. I had been fighting the "battle of the bulge" in my waist for a decade or more. In Argentina, without an automobile, I walked almost everywhere. I realize now I was walking probably better than 5-6 miles a day on a fairly regular basis. And I was eating healthier. One commitment I wanted to make was to walk 4 miles each morning. That has been difficult with morning breakfast meetings, on-call hours for VITAS Hospice, and a variety of factors. After a couple of weeks of struggling with this commitment, I made a new commitment. To walk 4 miles a day, no matter what time I must do it. So, I began the practice of walking later afternoon approaching sunset, if I was not able to walk at sunrise. As a result, I can now say that for more than a month now I have been walking 4 miles a day, morning or evening, without fail. The result is through the holidays I have been able to keep from gaining weight. (And I have not been all that good about not eating too much as we all tend to do over the holidays.) Now that the holiday binging period is almost complete, I am confident I will be able to maitain my commitment to regular walking exercise and with a return to healthier eating habits, I should be able to lose that final 15 lbs. that will get me to my goal of 185 lbs.

Two other changes I have made that I feel are positive. One is I no longer live by a list at work. Before the Sabbatical I had a practice of making a "to-do" list each Tuesday as I began my week (Mondays being my day off) and scratching off the items on the list as I went through the week. I know this is supposed to be a good time-management technique, but it can also become a constrictive practice. It was so freeing for 4 months to live life without a "to-do" list and so I decided I was not going to make a list when I returned. I have not and so far I do seem to be able to accomplish what I need to do each week. (The truth is, most of what I have to do each week does not vary much and I know what those tasks are and I get them done.) But not having a list staring at me is helping me to stay loose and less stressed.

The second change I have made is a definite reduction in my work hours each week. Before Sabbatical I am sure I was working upwards of 60 hours a week regularly. Now I am definitely below 50. I am not stressing over work as much and I am more relaxed at home. I really do believe I will be able to make some of the other changes I had wanted to make in this New Year. And tomorrow I am going to start by writing another post to my blog and share my "list" of changes for the New Year.

(The pictures I have posted include "Miami Snow on Christmas Day" [actually just foam on the water of the bay at sunrise], the NASCAR race, baptizing my granddaughters, and sunrise over Biscayne Bay on one of my morning walks.)

Re-entry at Christ Congregational Church

2008-11-02T15:39:00.005-05:00

After two days back at work, I am, so far, working my plan to re-enter slowly. Yesterday, November 1, was my first official day back at work, off of sabbatical. The telephone started ringing in the morning, so obviously people were counting the days until I was off of sabbatical. (But I must commend them for they clearly respected the sabbatical and did not call me while I was away.) Dianne and I took the early part of the day and drove to Key Largo, in the Florida Keys, primarily to run the errand of visiting Shell World to buy some special sea shells for the baptism of our granddaughters coming up November 9, but the real reason was to spend some more down time with each other and have a nice lunch on the water. It was a beautiful day and while it was not South America it did allow us some fantasy time of still feeling like we were still on sabbatical or vacation. The drive was relaxing, Shell World provided a large selection of shells from which to choose shells not only for next Sunday's baptism, but also a supply for future baptism ceremonies. We enjoyed a very relaxed lunch at Sundowner's on Florida Bay with up-close visits by sea gulls and a white heron.

After returning home I enjoyed the end of the Miami Hurricane football game as they beat University of Virginia in overtime and then watched the University of Florida Gators beat the Georgia Bulldogs, supporting my daughter's Alma mater and vicariously enjoying the game with her through mutual text messages. Then Dianne and I went to the 3 C's Preschool Harvest Festival which had been postponed a week due to weather. I was warmly greeted by people we saw who knew us and was a nice preview of the welcome home we received on Sunday morning.

Sunday morning has come and gone. It was very comfortable for me to lead worship. It should not have been a surprise to me, as I have been leading worship, with others or alone, at least 46 weeks out of 52 for the past 28 years. As Dianne reminded me as I went out the door this morning, "It's just like riding a bike!" (That chestnut is as well-worn as every piece of meat out of the ordinary supposedly "tasting like chicken.") But I was a little concerned if I would remember what to do and what to say. As it turned out, I did not even think very much about the words I say at Communion when I break the bread and pour the juice, but they came to me at the time I needed them without even thinking about what they needed to be and the benediction words, I did not stumble over them at all. I guess my wife is right! The experience of leading both times of worship was very natural and felt very familiar. Plus I did not stress over it and handled it with grace and professionalism. It seems the sabbatical did help. Plus I had many people commenting on how rested and rejuvenated I appeared.

The question will be to see how long the affect lasts. I was asked what I planned to do to keep refreshed and I shared my thoughts on what now be my focus as pastor. I realize I did way too much as pastor before the sabbatical, and I do not want to fall back into those patterns. So I plan to focus on four areas:

1. Plan and lead worship

2. Prepare and present a sermon

3. Offer pastor care as the people need it

4. Offer leadership, in supporting their work as the people of God and helping to focus the work of the mission of the church.

I also plan to make writing in my journal a regular part of my life. One of my members who teaches Spanish in high school has offered to help me keep up my Spanish with regular tutoring and I plan to accept her offer. Several members have offered to help me practice my Spanish and I plan to do that as well. I certainly hope these practices will help me remain rejuvenated and not approach burn-out status quickly as work responsibilities accumulate. Stay tuned!

The Final Day of Sabbatical

2008-10-31T13:31:00.005-04:00

Sitting in my home in Miami, on the last day of my Sabbatical, I am drinking the espresso I made (which does not even begin to approach the marvelous quality of the coffee I enjoyed in Argentina.) I have been home for six days and South America has begun to feel like a hazy dream. It truly was a dream life I enjoyed for 12 weeks. I never would have imagined I would fall so deeply in love with that continent and those countries, Argentina and Peru. I can begin to understand, I think, why British and European travelers fell in love with places like Africa and Asia. It is related to the exotic, yet familiar, nature of new lands. It is related to the level of hospitality one encounters from the local people (always a surprise, for we have this inbred idea that other people, especially foreign people, are never as warm, welcoming and hospitable as we are ourselves.) It is related to one's willingness to invest oneself in a locale and truly embrace it as a home. It is related to the good experiences one has and whether they outweigh the bad. It is related to one's ability to fit in to the culture, to embrace the language, to understand the thinking of the local people. When all of these factors come together in a positive manner, then one will find oneself in a new home, where one feels quite welcome and an integral part of the community, not just an outsider. You discover the place becoming a part of you and you a part of it. That certainly happened for me with Argentina.

It is perhaps the most amazing event of this sabbatical. Although, actually learning to understand and speak the Spanish language in just 12 weeks time is certainly an amazing feat for me, considering my struggle with learning other languages in more traditional educational settings in the United States. Before this sabbatical, I had never really thought much about South America. I was aware of it. I knew people from various countries in the region. I had enjoyed many different movies set in South America and I had a vague sense of the history of the region. But I never had a strong attraction or desire to visit. There were always so many other more exotic, more interesting places on my list. So it was actually quite serendipitous that I chose Argentina as the location for my sabbatical and now I am so glad that I did. In 10 weeks time it became a second home, a second country, for me and it will always have a very special place in my heart.

Now I am engaged in the task of reconnecting with my life in Miami. It is clear to me that I am in a stage of withdrawal and mourning from my life in Argentina. I cooked parilla for my wife and daughter one night, grilling vegetables and a piece of vacio (an Argentine cut of steak I actually found in Publix) and it felt familiar and almost as good as the Argentine grills. I have been eating Argentine and Peruvian chocolate I brought home and looking for ways to order more or find it here in Miami! I have been trying different roasts of coffee beans to find the rich, espresso roast I enjoyed in Argentina. I have been buying various Malbec wines from various Argentine wineries, looking for the quality I enjoyed in country.

Even as I try to hold on to my experiences in Argentina, I have begun to reconnect with my life in Miami. I have played golf at least once and it was good. The four-month lay-off does not seem to have hurt my swing. I have spent most of my time with my family and I have been catching up on chores around the house which needed attention. Today is the official last day of the sabbatical and tomorrow I officially return to work. Sunday I return to leading worship and I understand a Bienvenido a Tu Casa luncheon has been planned for after worship. It will be a joy to see the folks of the church and to begin reconnecting with them. In truth, I have the feeling the sabbatical will continue to unfold and even though today is the official end, the impact and affects of the sabbatical will continue for months to come.

Back in Miami!

2008-10-26T18:56:00.005-04:00

All it took was a five and one-half hour airplane ride and my South American adventure was over! Yesterday Dianne and I had a rather uneventful flight from Lima, Peru to Miami and it feels like I have awakened from a marvelous dream. It was great to be greeted at the airport by my daughter, step-daughter and her husband, and my newest granddaughter. I have really missed family and it was a nice surprise to walk out of the International Arrivals restricted area to see them in the lobby and not have to wait for them curbside. It has been a full 24 hours with family as we had dinner with them last night and went back to their house for lunch today to visit with another long time friend who is almost like family.

But it feels strange to be back in my home in Miami. In fact, the initial feelings are that it doesn't feel like "home." It is the same house. My "stuff" is still here. My family lives here. But there was a "strangeness" to walking in last night. It is an early confirmation of what I was anticipating in South America that there will be a time of adjustment for me upon return. We are usually so caught up in the day to day "everydayness" of our lives that 8, 12, 16 weeks fly by and don't seem so long in the course of a year. Yet, in truth they are a significant passage of time. Twelves weeks is what I spent out of the United States, living in South America. It is a fourth of a year. Sixteen weeks is what I spent away from work on Sabbatical. That is a third of a year. A lot happens in those amounts of time. For me, a lot happened here at home that I missed. And a lot happened to me, that others, except through my blog, have not experienced with me. How all of this will mesh together to allow me to re-engage with my former life here in Miami will be a most interesting process. Probably as interesting, if not more so, as the Sabbatical experience itself.

For now, I plan to take my re-entry nice and slow. I do not plan to think too much about work or what I need to be doing when I return to work very much this next week. I plan to spend time performing some maintenance chores around the house. My wife and daughter did a great job taking care of the house in my absence, but some things, like taking down hurricane shutters put up as a precaution, they really cannot do. I also want to play at least one round of golf, it has been four months since I have swung my golf clubs. I plan to brush up on my Spanish lessons. Even though the last two weeks were spent in Peru, a Spanish-speaking country, most of our time was in tourist areas, where most of the service people we dealt with spoke some, if not a lot, of English and tended to assume we knew no Spanish. So, it was almost like being back in Miami two weeks early: in an environment where there was Spanish being spoken around us, but an environment where it was not necessary for us to know Spanish to function. In that regards, I am very glad I chose Argentina and not Peru for my Spanish language classes. I know I was surrounded by Spanish speakers and most of the 8 weeks I was in Argentina, it was necessary for me to know Spanish to function. It was truly an immersion experience that helped me learn the language. Based on my recent experience in Peru, I am not sure I would have found the same type of immersion experience there.

I also want to spend some significant time this week reflecting on my entire Sabbatical. I know this will be an on-going process, but I want to begin that process this week before work responsibilities begin to impinge on my time and attention. During the past 4 months I have done some reflecting on what I was experiencing, what I was learning, what it might mean for me moving forward. But now that I am nearing the end of the Sabbatical, I want to revisit those reflections, deepen them, and refine them. I want to begin to seriously contemplate what all this might mean for me moving into the future.

Final Post from South America!

2008-10-24T23:01:00.005-04:00

Dianne is packing, and I am trying to hang on to my South America time by writing one more post for the blog. We had a wonderful final day in Lima, Peru. We began the day with a harrowing 30-minute taxi ride to Lima central and the Plaza de Armas. It is quite impressive, lined on two sides by yellow colonial buildings with Moorish balconies, on one side by the Cathedral and Archbishop's residence, and on the fourth side by government Palace. We toured the Cathedral, which was quite impressive and somewhat macabre. In the crypt below the central nave there is a display behind glass of quite a few human skulls and apparently the rest of the bones of the bodies buried there. No names, no indication to whom the bones belonged. There are also quite a few displays of religious art, including religious artifacts made from gold and silver.

Just as we were finishing our tour of the Cathedral, I heard music floating through the door from the main plaza. Emerging into the sunlight my gaze was drawn to brightly colored uniformed band members behind the bars of a wrought iron fence surrounding an apparent government building. Inquiring of the guard at the Cathedral door I learned that the music indicated the daily changing of the guard at the government building. It was about a 30 minute ceremony with lots of music, goose-stepping guards, trumpets, flags, etc. Unfortunately it all took place behind the iron fence and the riot police kept the tourists and school children gathered to watch, on the other side of the street from the fence. Still, it was quite an impressive ceremony.

Following lunch near the plaza, we caught another taxi back to Miraflores and visited LarcoMar, a shopping mall built into the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It is a stunning setting, but a sad place from my perspective because it looks as though it was clearly built and financed by American money. The majority of the stores are US brands and it feels it could be in Anytown, US as much as in Lima, Peru. But the gelato we enjoyed was delicious, as was the coffee. And both were even better as we were sitting at a table overlooking a beautiful spring afternoon sun shining over the Pacific Ocean.

After finally enjoying a dramatic sunset we made our way back to El Señorío del Sulco, where we had a gourmet dinner our first night in Lima. We wanted to ensure we had a wonderful final dinner and we were not disappointed as Dianne dined on a suckling pig roasted in a pisco sauce and I enjoyed a lamb shank along with a mashed corn side dish. They were accompanied by another fine Peruvian Tacama Blanco y Blanco wine and topped off by a very sweet, but tasty pudding desert. A fine way to close out our adventure in Lima, in Peru, in South America.

Tomorrow we board a Lan Peru flight for Miami and back to our normal reality. I am sure I will be processing and enjoying this adventure for months to come, perhaps years. I hope you will continue to visit this blog, as I will continue writing reflections as I reenter life in Miami and in my work as local church Pastor. I firmly believe that Sabbath Tango is not just a theme for my Sabbatical, but for my life and work and I will try to explore that theme in the days to come.

Eating Our Way Through Lima

2008-10-23T23:45:00.004-04:00

Lima has turned out to be a very nice, very relaxing, very enjoyable final stop on our visit to South America. Dianne and I both had very low expectations of Lima based on what we had read or heard about it before we arrived, but we have been pleasantly surprised by what we have found. Perhaps it is the neighborhood where we are staying, Miraflores, which is clearly a middle to upper class neighborhood, but we have found it very clean, feeling very safe, and very attractive. There are lovely parks. There are gourmet restaurants with stunning settings. There have been neighborhood-type restaurants where we felt like we became part of the family in the time of just one meal. Plus, unlike Cusco, you can walk the streets and not be constantly accosted by street vendors and beggars. We even found a large handicraft market in Miraflores with pretty much the same crafts we saw in Cusco and we were able to shop at our leisure without too much pressure, even from the attendants of the different shops. It was much more relaxing and a much more enjoyable experience. (Plus we found some really nice bargains!)

Our time in Lima is definitely very relaxed with an emphasis on eating really good meals. Last night we ate at El Señorío de Sulco, listed as a three-fork restaurant in the Footprints Guide, yet written up as a "five-fork" restaurant, reputed to be one of the finest in Lima. We would agree. The food was delicious, truly gourmet, and the service was first-rate. Dianne had a very delicious roast duck marinated in a dark ale & corn beer sauce. Steve enjoyed a very traditional Peruvian Roast Beef dish, cooked in an interesting collection of herbs and served with sweet potatoes. We enjoyed another bottle of very fine Tacama vineyards Peruvian Tinto Wine. We had heard that Peruvian wines were not very good and while we would still rate the Argentine wines the best we have tasted in South America, the Tacama wines are very tasty and very good. We satisfied our desire for sweets with a very tasty flan with caramel & pecan topping.

Today we had a really fun lunch. We decided on a café/bar named Shehadi Pizzeria. It sounded very Middle Eastern, but the menu listed clearly Peruvian dishes. It turned out to be owned by a Lebanese-American from Brooklyn who has been in Lima for 3 years. There was a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge painted on one wall. The wait staff was extremely attentive and bent over backwards to be sure we had a good dining experience. The food was excellent. We both had dishes that were Peruvian, but with a Lebanese twist.

Finally, tonight we were able to finagle a table on the outside deck of La Rosa Nautica, a Lima dining establishment which is built on a pier sitting over the Pacific Ocean. The deck was quite comfortable and allowed us to hear the waves breaking on the beach while watching the lights of Lima blink at us from the towering cliffs overhead. La Rosa's main dining room was totally booked for the night (we did not need reservations the night before) but they had some tables available outside. The waiter here was a bit snooty, but the Sommelier was quite helpful in choosing a very nice Tacama Blanco y Blanco which was very delicious. The food, though, was wonderful. Dianne enjoyed a very tasty and smooth Fettuccine Alfredo with shrimp while Steve was delighted with the Sea Bass Rosa Nautica, baked in a delicious white sauce with shrimp and sea scallops and mashed yellow potatoes. We topped off the meal with an exquisite Chocolate Mousse pie with lacuma sauce, all of which was very rich and very delicious.

We have one more day in Lima, one more day in Peru, one more day in South America. Then on Saturday we board an airplane to fly home to Miami. This has been a most amazing, constantly surprising, consistently enjoyable experience for me and for Dianne. We are not ready for it to end and I know that the memories we are gathering will stay with us and unfold for us for years to come. From all the sights, all the delicious food, to all the wonderful people we have enjoyed a very rich experience. One more day to go! We don't plan to waste it.

Surprising Reactions to Lima

2008-10-22T19:13:00.004-04:00

Gray skies that blend into a gray Pacific Ocean are the backdrop for our first day in Lima, Peru, yet our impression of Lima has raised our impression of Peru as a whole. While I still believe Peru is a country with tremendous poverty, it is clear there is money in this country from what I have already seen in Lima. Just the drive from the airport was through streets very busy with both automobile and pedestrian traffic. There was significant evidence of retail and commercial activity that looks much more like what I am used to in the United States than any other economic activity I have seen elsewhere in Peru or Argentina. Lima is clearly a city that is not dependent on tourism for the engine to drive its economic activity. It is also a city that, while still not up to US standards, is closer to those standards than even Buenos Aries, at least in terms of what I experienced.

As we drove to the little Bed & Breakfast where we are staying the next three days, we passed through the San Isidro district which is clearly a middle to upper class neighborhood, where there are many embassy compounds and clearly up-scale living accommodations. Our lodging is just two blocks from the road that run along the bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. After checking in we went out to get some lunch and walked along the bluff. There is a beautiful park complex, filled with walkways, play areas for children, beautiful flower beds all in bloom (after all, it is springtime here in Peru) and stunning views of the Pacific. Even with the horizon blending one level of grey from the water into another level of grey from the clouds in the sky, the waves breaking on the beach below were still impressive. Along the walk there were small well-kept homes squeezed between high-rise apartment buildings, with even higher-rise buildings popping up here and there. It is clear this is where some of the money in Peru lives.

This was further confirmed for us when we entered Francesco's restaurant for lunch. Escorted to the second floor, we were clearly under-dressed for the clearly businessman's lunch site. Sitting in our blue jeans and long-sleeve t-shirts, the waiter, sommelier, bus-boys, servers, everyone associated the restaurant, were nonetheless very helpful and very pleasant. Not wanting to over-eat so we could enjoy a very nice dinner later, we did "tapas", choosing from the appetizers and enjoyed more than enough for lunch. Dianne began with a traditional Peruvian Pisco sour and I had, on the recommendation of our Taxi driver that it would be could for clearing up my cough, a Pisco Puro (a shot of straight pisco). We followed with a shared Crab Meat Tamal and then Dianne enjoyed a Pepper stuffed with shrimp and melted mozzarella cheese while Steve enjoyed a baked potato stuffed with seafood (octopus, shrimp, scallops, and crab). The setting was first class, the service superb, and the food exquisite. An outstanding lunch. A great way to begin our stay in Lima.

While we have not ventured too far, our impression of Peru has improved dramatically already with our exposure to the San Isidro and Miraflores neighborhoods of Lima. We are both feeling better than the past few days, possibly due to our return to sea level from the heights of Cusco in the high Andes. It is another amazing aspect of this sabbatical for me that I began my time in South America on the Atlantic Coast in Buenos Aries in August and I am ending my visit on the Pacific Coast in Lima in October. And I did not have to fly as far to do so as I would have had to in the US. And in just three days I will be back on the Atlantic as I return to Miami. What an amazing adventure this continues to be.

Here is a link to a Kodak Gallery Album with a few pictures of the Pacific Ocean coast near our Bed and Breakfast here in Lima: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.bxf8wjty&x=0&y=3aijbm&localeid=en_US

Final Thoughts from Cusco

2008-10-21T17:30:00.005-04:00

Thankfully El Balcon, the hotel where Dianne and I have stayed in Cusco, is very comfortable and quaint. Thus it was a very nice place to spend our last day in Cusco, just hanging out in the room. Dianne became quite ill last night after dinner (actually she said her stomach had been upset most of the day) resulting in a night of nausea and vomiting, with little sleep, and great discomfort. She has spent all day in bed trying to feel better, drinking a little tea and trying to slowly eat some food to keep it down. Several of the Cusco residents seem to think she is suffering from the altitude which can affect your digestive system in bad ways.

Having visited Cusco at the start of the week, seen most of the sights, and then gone on to Ollantaytambo and Machu Picchu, a day of rest was very welcome and we really don't feel we are missing all that much. We did visit two museums yesterday which had nice collections of pre-Columbian art and artifacts, including quite a few Inca pieces. They were a nice completion of our tour of Incan lands and history.

We are both ready to leave Cusco. It is a beautiful little city, very quaint and antique-looking. A lot of the architecture is still a strong mixture of Incan and Spanish colonial which is quite striking, interesting, and beautiful. The main plaza and the several little plazoletas that we visited were quite lovely. But what detracts from the beauty of the city is the poverty. We have learned from several Peruvians that work is very difficult to find in Peru. That is quite evident from what you encounter on the street as a tourist. Evidently we stand out like sore thumbs and thus are constantly accosted. You literally cannot walk half a block without being asked if you want your shoes shined, do you want to buy a painting from my portfolio, would you like some of these finger puppets, or other handcraft items, do you want some coca leaves candy, postcards, etc. Anything you can imagine they try to sell to you and it is a constant gauntlet you must pass through on the street. It is worst around the plazas, and if you dare to eat at an outside table enjoying the sun and the beautiful plaza views, they walk the sidewalk and accost you at your table! It is quite annoying. It becomes very difficult to maintain an attitude of compassion for people in such dire straits that they must resort to this type of begging to survive. And it does seem to be only a small step up from outright begging, especially by those who are very aggressive and persistent in their approach.

Beyond this atmosphere in the tourist areas, the few times we have driven beyond the main tourist areas what we have seen indicates a country in extreme poverty and extreme economic difficulty. All the housing seems very poor, even the "new" construction (still mostly of adobe bricks dug from the ground.) We have not seen any area that appears "middle" class let alone an upper class neighborhood. That may change in Lima, but in the highlands around Cusco, that is our experience. Even so, the people are lovely, (with the exceptions of the street vendors, and even the few of them we have actually dealt with in purchasing anything [I did buy a work of art for my office] turned out to be quite personable) and they seem to maintain a spirit of hope and joy in life. They offer quite a testimony to those of us, like myself, who have so much more and for whom life truly is so much easier, and yet find myself many times complaining, whining, and taking so much of my life for granted. Somehow it seems they find the joy in the very fact of being alive and find blessings to count and hope to which to cling. There is a lesson here for me in my life when I return to Miami.

Tomorrow we board a plane for Lima. We have reservations at a lovely little Bed & Breakfast in the Miraflores neighborhood, two blocks from the Pacific Ocean. We plan to mostly spend our time there, relaxing, do a little touring and shopping, but mostly rest up and prepare to return to life and work in Miami. We fly home on Saturday. Dianne returns to work on Monday and I have one more week of Sabbatical before it is over and I return to work November 1. I can hardly believe that this time has arrived.

Initial Thoughts on Machu Picchu

2008-10-20T12:24:00.006-04:00

What to say about Machu Picchu?!? It will probably be months, if not years, before I can fully put into words even half of what I experienced in my two days wandering this amazing mountain-top city. While it is not as high as people think (listed at 7,800 feet above sea level, whereas Cusco is 11,000 feet) it is still impressively located atop a mountain, with the sides falling steeply to the valley floor some 1,800 feet below. You can also climb several surrounding peaks, or up the Inca Trail to the Gate of the Sun (which Dianne and I did our second day here) which is another 1,000 feet above Machu Picchu for even more breathtaking views. (Actually, the climb itself also takes away your breath!)

Our first day in the ruins started out very cool, cloudy, and misty. While the clouds were not at city level, but above the closest peaks, they were still covering some of the surrounding peaks and deepened and darkened all the colors of the stone and vegetation. We hired an impromptu guide at the gate, Felix, who was very kind, fairly knowledgeable, and basically did what we hoped in taking us around in an orderly fashion to all the important spots in the city in about two-and-a-half hours. After that we had the entire afternoon to explore on our own. By that time the clouds had become the white, puffy cumulus clouds of summer afternoons with lots of sunshine and it actually became hot up on the mountain top. Unfortunately I was fighting a sinus infection wanting to turn into bronchitis, running a fever, and generally feeling lousy, so our exploring was somewhat limited. We did revisit some of the sites Felix showed us and took pictures and we did make the climb to the Watchman's Hut to take the classic postcard photo of Machu Picchu with Wayna Picchu rising up behind it along with some close-up photos of llamas grazing on the terraces. (We also played footsie with a llama as we were climbing down the 150 step stairway from the Hut to the exit level and the llama was climbing up and walked right past us.) We did head down to our wonderfully comfortable Eco-lodge, Rupa Wasi, in town a bit earlier than we might have if I wasn't sick, so I could take some medicines for my symptoms and take a short nap before dinner.

We awoke after a good, long night's sleep to raindrops on our roof and low clouds wrapping around the mountains. It did not look like it would be a good day to visit Machu Picchu, but I awoke feeling better than the day before and we had already paid for our tickets to enter the ruins, so after breakfast we boarded the bus for the 20-minute, winding bus ride to the top. By the time we reached the entrance the clouds had lifted and blue sky was beginning to show. So, we embarked on the 1,000 foot climb to Intipunku (The Gate of the Sun) which is the pass the main Inca Trail crosses and where travelers would get their first view of the city stretched out below. We took the climb slow and easy with several stops along the way to take in the view. There were also some interesting sights we encountered along the way - evidence that people are still worshiping in the ancient Inca fashion.

We came upon one spot where a huge rock jutted out over the trail with stonework below it that gave the appearance there had once been some sort of structure here, possibly a shrine. There were numerous small piles of stones, 3, 4 or 5 stones high, on top of the various walls all around this rock (which one could say bore a resemblance to a frog). Even more intriguing was the small group of women and a child, in a small shaded opening next to this area who were clearly praying facing the mountain (standing there with arms raised in quiet posture). A little further along the trail there was another group of stone structures which could have been some sort of outpost on the trail, or again, a shrine. Next to these structures was another large rock, this one laying on the ground, but clearly polished and shaped on top in one of the traditional Incan designs. Again, there were small piles of stones on this rock and in various other places around the area. But in addition, on one of the shelves of this rock were clear offerings left for Pachamama (Mother Earth), hard candy pieces and coca leaves. It is fascinating, and even a little heart-warming, to realize that despite all the Spanish conquerors and their Catholic priests did to try to wipe out the indigenous religion of the people, it still survives in some form.

While it is hard to describe, it is clearly evident when visiting, that Machu Picchu has a strong spiritual dimension to it. While the archaeologists have many, many competing theories about what purpose the city played, why it was built here, what are the meanings of the different structures, it is clear that the area held great spiritual meaning for the Inca people. It is clear that it was again, an area with a good water supply and a location that could be easily defended and would be difficult to attack. The fact that it survived in such good shape for so many centuries beyond the Spanish invaders is a testimony to the building skills of those who constructed it, and to its highly difficult to reach location. It is truly one of the wonders of the world.

(I have posted pictures with my previous two posts from Peru, so if you read them earlier, revisit them to see a few pictures. I have not had a chance to create Kodak Gallery Albums yet, so there are no links to more pictures, but they will be added in the next few days. Dianne and I are wearing down from all the climbing and walking, so we are going to be slowing down the "tourist type" activity the rest of this week and taking a more leisurely pace. I should be able to finally organize the Peru pictures and share more with you in a few days. So, keep checking back.)

Here, finally, are some links to Kodak Gallery Albums where you can see more of the amazing photos from Machu Picchu. This link will take you to pictures from Day 1 in Machu Picchu: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.bh2fuudi&x=0&y=-b3i3xa&localeid=en_US

From the "magical" Ollantaytambo

2008-10-17T16:55:00.006-04:00

Sitting at a balcony window overlooking the Plaza de Armas (the main plaza) of Ollantaytambo with a huge mountain overlooking the town from the other side filling most of the window, I bring you another post from Peru! Dianne and I have truly been transported into another world, and it even feels, another time. This little town is at the juncture of two river, three valleys, would be extremely hard to approach in secret, and fairly easy to defend. It is completely sensible that this place has been settled by human beings for tens of thousands of years and still today. The mountains surround the town, almost embracing it in their arms, providing a true sense of divine protection.

We spent the morning climbing up and down more than 200 stone steps to visit the palace/fortress/religious sanctuary of Ollantaytambo. There is evidence of at least three different construction techniques, indicating most likely at least two other civilizations or cultures pre-dating the Incas in constructing this place. There are also marvelous examples of Inca construction, with the uncompleted Temple of the Sun and Temple of the Moon. We had a wonderfully informative impromptu history and archaeological lesson from Eugenio, one of the docents, or guards, at the ruins. The knowledge of the stars, the movement of the sun and moon, of geometry, algebra and other sciences involved in the construction is amazing. And so much of what they knew appears to have been lost! How sad for the rest of us.

After the morning climb and tour we had a disappointing lunch before visiting the local market with the people selling their handmade jewelry, woven crafts, etc. Much of the work is beautiful. Dianne purchased a few souvenirs and I practiced my Spanish. We then hung out in the main plaza waiting for the electricity to return so we could visit the Internet cafe and check email and I could post to the blog. Again, I am really sorry there are not pictures, but promise by late Sunday or early Monday there will be some added. So keep checking back for them.

Last night we had a truly gourmet dinner at the little Bed & Breakfast where we are staying. Dianne had a chicken dish that had a sauce which included the muña herb of which I wrote yesterday (the one that also is good for headaches!) I had an Alpaca Tenderloin in an elderberry sauce. It was pretty good (though not as good as Argentine beef, of course!) The meal was delicious and we plan to eat there again tonight.

The Bed & Breakfast is, literally, right on the train platform so when we leave at 7:00 a.m. for Machu Picchu tomorrow we do not have far to walk! Again, we have no idea what our Internet access will be in Aquas Calientes. Supposedly the town is very small and very primitive, although we did make hotel reservations on-line. But if there is no post until Sunday night or Monday, you will know it had been a difficult thing to do in that town. (Either that, or we were too physically tired after visiting Machu Picchu!)

Here are two Kodak Gallery Album links. The first takes you to pictures of the town of Ollantaytambo and the little Bed & Breakfast where we stayed: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.2avaio92&x=0&y=3ehek9&localeid=en_US

The second takes you to pictures of the ruins at Ollantaytambo: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.7i5a09ra&x=0&y=2ytn8q&localeid=en_US

Finally, word from Peru!

2008-10-16T17:00:00.008-04:00

Ollantaytambo is the name of the pueblo from where I am finally writing a post. We left Buenos Aires 3 days ago (was it really only 3 days), landed in Lima, made it through immigration and customs and connected with our flight to Cusco, landed in Cusco and made it to our beautiful hotel, El Balcon, on the slope overlooking Plaza de Armas and Cusco. It was a long, tiring travel day (made longer by Alberto, a very nice tour organizer who met us at our hotel, greeted us as though he was the host of the place, and proceeded to talk to us about how long we were staying, what were we planning to do, offering us several tour options, catching us with his "used car salesman pitch" while we were still reeling from the flight!) We did book a half-day city tour with him for the next day, and arranged transfer back from Ollantaytambo train station by car upon our return on Sunday from Machu Picchu. Anyway, we finally made it to our room and collapsed! I took some beautiful night photos of the city from our balcony, including of the brightly lit white statue of Jesus high on a hill overlooking Cusco with his arms raised in blessing! (Talk about a neon cross!)

The next day we went to the Perurail Train Station to trade our Internet voucher for our tickets on the train to Machu Picchu, found a bank to change some dollars into nuevo soles, walked around some lovely squares visiting some shops for Dianne to browse and shop. We picked up lunch to take back to the hotel, ate and got ready for our tour. While we are not fans of group tours (yes, it is amazing that we took this tour!) the tour guide Puma (yes, that is his first name, he is Quechua, which is the proper term for the native people we know as Inca) was excellent and made the tour extremely worthwhile. Cusco lays claim to being the longest settled and populated city in the hemisphere, with its roots dating back possibly 7,000 years. The Inca Empire was only about 100 years long, though it was probably the high point of construction and settlement. Of course, most of what the Inca built was destroyed by the Spanish conquerors, beginning with Francisco Pizarro.

One fascinating fact we learned was that while most Inca structures have been destroyed or damaged, it was all by human hands, not a bit by earthquakes. The Inca, or their predecessors, figured out a way to construct stone structures that would move with the earth and not topple or crumble. So, for instance, in 1650, when there was a massive earthquake in the region of Cusco, all the Spanish buildings constructed on top of the Inca buildings crumbled, but the bottom portions of the buildings, which were the original Inca construction, all remained standing! To this day engineers from Japan, San Francisco, and other earthquake prone areas, have visited and studied the Inca construction but have not figured out how to duplicate it.

While it is only a small portion of the vast gold and silver wealth of the Incas, we were amazed at the opulence in the Cathedral. The vast usage of gold and silver plating on altars and various structures was stunning. Just the wealth exhibited in this one, huge, structure (actually it is three churches joined together, with the Cathedral in the center and two "smaller" churches on either side) is mind-blowing! Plus we saw the blackened Christ on the cross known as ¨Lord of the Tremblors" which was the crucifix they finally, in desperation, paraded around town in 1650 when the earth was shaking and the earth stopped! Finally, we saw the Peruvian version of Davinci's "Last Supper" which depicts Jesus and his disciples about to dine on cuy, guinea pig!

After the Cathedral we rode the bus up 1,500 more feet, to the impressive stone ritual site known as Sacsayhuaman. It is huge! With huge stones in the walls that are still standing. One Inca historian who wrote shortly after the conquest by the Spanish wrote how he got lost in Sacsayhuaman it was so huge and labyrinth-like. We also visited several other interesting Inca ruins before returning to the main plaza about 7 p.m. Growing tired, Dianne and I went looking for a "simple" dinner. We went to a restaurant recommended to us by the Hotel manager, La Retrama. Located on the second floor overlooking Plaza de Armas, it was a lovely, elegant restaurant. We were the only patrons for about 30 minutes before two tour groups (they sounded German) joined us. But the food was delicious, the staff extremely attentive. One waiter named Emilio, not our main waiter but very friendly, discovered I had a headache and brought me some sort of green herb in a small container to crush and deeply inhale the aroma. (Dianne just found the name on the web, muña.) And it worked! Not immediately, but within a half-hour or so my headache was gone! Dianne even shared and we both testify to this natural healing wonder!

It was not a "simple" or short dinner, though. The food was delicious, but more than I was looking for (actually Dianne was ravenous) and then about the time we finished a Peruvian musical group, with flutes, drums, a guitar and mandolin set up in tradition garb and began playing. They were then joined by four dancers in very colorful costumes, who were very energetic and performed 4 different dances. It was at least an hour-long floor show, and the musicians were still playing when we finally left! It was a much later night than we had planned, but extremely enjoyable.

This morning after breakfast I walked to the Instituto Nacional de Cultura to buy our entrance tickets to Machu Picchu before we were picked-up by Edwin who drove us through the Sacred Valley to Ollantaytambo. The drive was amazing. The panoramas, the vistas, the scenery, both fascinating, stunning, awesome, breathtaking, I could pile up the superlatives and not do it justice. I am sorry I do not have pictures posted (I took many of the last 3 days) but it turns out there is not WIFI at our hotel in Ollantaytambo so I won't be able to add pictures for several days. Maybe this weekend in Aquas Calientes, where we are spending Saturday night during our visit to Machu Picchu. Otherwise, I will definitely add pictures to whatever posts I share, beginning with this one, by Monday. Sorry! Know we are safe and having an amazing visit in Peru!

Here are the Kodak Gallery Album links with more pictures of Cusco. This first link will take you to pictures of some of the ruins in and around Cusco: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.ayd2yio6&x=0&y=n5wvig&localeid=en_US

This second link will take you to pictures of the Folklore Show we enjoyed at dinner: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.57sw3pfq&x=0&y=ky1jw8&localeid=en_US

With Tango & Delicious Steak We say Adios, Buenos Aires!

2008-10-13T22:12:00.005-04:00

Dianne is trying to fit all of our "stuff" into three suitcases, evenly balanced below 20 kilos each so we don't get charged a tariff at the airport tomorrow as we leave Argentina for Peru. We closed out our time in this marvelous city with a Tango lesson this evening, followed by the most amazing steak dinner either one of us has ever tasted, ANYWHERE! We each had the lomo cut, which is a thick sirloin type cut: Dianne's was cooked in a red wine sauce with a chive & mushroom risotto. Steve had lomo from the grill accompanied by grilled vegetables. Both steaks could be cut with a butter knife and truly, melted in your mouth. The most tender, flavorful, delicious cuts of beef we have had in Argentina or anywhere. They were accompanied by a delicious Malbec, Terraza de los Andes Bodega, and followed by the heavenly Argentine coffee and two marvelous desserts: for Dianne a Rice Pudding which came in five small containers, each with a different garnish - strawberries, dulce de leche, chocolate shavings, raspberries & blueberries, and kiwi! Steve had a creme brulee with flambead bananas! What a truly marvelous way to close out our Argentine adventure!

In the morning, at 6:00 a.m., the Taxi driver (Sergio) will be here to pick us up and take us to Ezieza airport so we can catch our 9:15 a.m. flight to Peru. We land in Lima, have a brief layover, and by 4 p.m. will be in Cusco, high in the Andes. I have very mixed feelings about saying good-bye to Argentina. It amazes me that in 10 weeks, even with being robbed in the midst of that time, I have moved from questioning why I ever decided to come to this city and country to having fallen in love with both. I would come back, and I hope to some day. It is a wonderful city with a rich history, an exciting present, and I hope, a bountiful future. It has rich culture, delicious food, and an amazingly varied terrain. It has much to commend.

A Quiet Final Weekend in Buenos Aires

2008-10-12T11:53:00.004-04:00

Since returning to Buenos Aires from Iguazu Falls we have been spending a very low-key weekend in our apartment in Palermo. It feels rather strange to have become homebodies while we are half a world away from home in Miami, in a fabulous city, which we may or may not every return to visit. But Dianne returned from the jungle with a developing sinus infection and I am trying to nurse her back to health in preparation for the next leg of our adventure in Peru. So, she has been taking the antibiotic her doctor sent along for such an occasion; getting plenty of rest, drinking lots of liquids, and taking it easy. We have seen a lot in Buenos Aires so this respite will not really result in her missing too much. And, we have not been totally couch potatoes, going out each evening for a delicious dinner.

On Thursday night, after returning from Iguazu Falls, we went to this little "resto-bar" in the neighborhood which has music every night, most of it Argentine Folk music. This night at La Peña del Colorado there was a very gifted singer and professor of music performing, Silvia Zabala. She had a wonderfully rich, strong voice and lots of energy. She was accompanied by two gifted guitar players and throughout the night she invited them to take the lead at times, invited a friend in the audience to share some songs (and she, too, had a marvelous voice), and invited two other musicians who play with one of the guitar players in a separate group, to do a few numbers. The bar was fairly intimate, the food was delicious. It was traditional Argentine food: Dianne had a pumpkin squash casserole, Steve had a tamal and a beef & tomato stew (which, interestingly he did not order, the waiter just brought to the table. We thought it was a gift from him, or maybe his sister who was seated at the table next to us, but then he charged us for it! Oh well, it was delicious and it worked out fine! I probably say that because the bottle of Malbec was so wonderful that I could go with the flow.) We interacted some with the waiter's father, sister and her boyfriend and we truly had an evening where we felt as though we were regular resident of the neighborhood.

The next night we went to La Nazarenas, a very classy Parrilla-Asador Restaurant downtown. The service was impeccable; the wine, another Malbec (the fourth bottle for the fourth dinner in a row, all marvelous, each one different in taste, body, aroma, etc.), was superb; the steaks, tender and juicy; the grilled vegetables, delicious; the fine crystal wine glasses, a very classy touch. It was a very special dinner. Unfortunately, we did not get to continue our evening at a Tango Milonga because Dianne was not feeling well, but dinner was a treat.

Then last night we went to a very nice restaurant in the neighborhood, Don Justo's. Again the setting was very first class. The food was excellent: Dianne enjoyed Pollo Don Justo, which was a chicken breast marinated in Portuguese sauce, covered with peppers and mozzarella; Steve had Salmon stuffed ravioli with mushroom sauce. Instead of Malbec, we enjoyed a bottle of La Rural Trumpeter Chardonnay, one of the best chardonnays we have ever tasted! We topped this dinner with a crepe filled and covered with dulce de leche and wonderful Argentine coffee. Would that American coffee was as rich, full-bodied, and smooth as Argentine coffee!!!

Yesterday the weather began shifting to the rain that had been forecast for several days and it continues today. So, we are resting and working in the apartment. I have organized all the photos from Iquazu Falls (all 700!) and have added links to the previous post about our visit to the Falls to Kodak Gallery Albums. If you have read that post previously but did not see the links to the photos, I encourage you to return to it now and enjoy the photos. You will be amazed and not be disappointed, I guarantee it! I plan to cook spaghetti for lunch (lots of restaurants are closed on Sundays until dinner time) to use up the food because we have to leave this comfortable apartment tomorrow. We will go to Caseron Porteño, the hostel where I began my stay in Buenos Aires 10 weeks ago. We will stay one night there before boarding a flight for Peru on Tuesday. We have two more nights to enjoy the delicious Argentine cooking and then we are off to a new world, a new culture, a new country.

Sensory Overload in the Jungle

2008-10-09T09:06:00.005-04:00

It is truly amazing the power and effect of millions, probably trillions, of gallons of water rushing over a cliff! Sensory overload was the affect on Dianne and I as we toured Iguazu Falls in Misiones Province, Argentina, on the border with Brazil. (At one point we realized that much of the day we spent looking at Brazil, which was the land we viewed across the river as we walked the cliffs of the falls and the catwalks constructed on the sides of those cliffs and over the rushing water. We did not get into Brazil, but we did view the Brazilian jungle!) Iguazu Falls are truly one of the natural wonders of the world. The power of the water is phenomenal! The visual spectacle continually takes your breath away! The sound of the water rushing over the edge of the cliffs and pounding into the rocks below is deafening. It becomes your constant background noise and you do not even notice it after awhile, until you are standing directly over a rushing cataract, or at the base of a particularly grand fall, and suddenly it surrounds you physically. Or, you are walking in the jungle, several kilometers away, and it slowly creeps back into your awareness that the sound you are hearing is the falls off in the distance. There was so much to absorb that our senses just could not take it all in.

Besides the waterfalls there is so much life surrounding you: numerous birds and myriad of flowers. We heard far more birds than we saw(we even heard a "Chili" type parrot calling off in the distance), and we saw a lot! The flowers sometimes stood out and at other times blended into the landscape. At one point I was about to stop and take a photo of a small purple flower when Dianne called me over to look at some yellow iris-type flowers. When I went back to take the purple flower I saw very close to it some yellow orchids that I had not noticed the first time. As though they had instantly sprung up in that place, though I realize they had been there all along. There was just so much to absorb! We saw coaties on the path, pulling fruit off a palm tree, one even cleaning up the lunch remains someone had left on the table outside the small cafe. There were a small band of cai monkeys, lots of lizards of several variety, capybaras (a small hairy rat-like critter). Oh, and the butterflies - mariposas - were everywhere: large and small, white and black and blue and orange and scarlet, bark colored, black with red and yellow markings, too many to catalogue!

Our two days began with an afternoon trip to the Park. We first visited the information center which had a very nice interpretive display on the rain forest. After grabbing a nice lunch at the local cafe we caught the "Green Train" for the ride out to the Garganta del Diablo, "The Devil's Throat." There is a rather lengthy walk across 12 branches of the river on a metal catwalk to the edge of this huge horseshoe shaped falls. As you approach you see the mist rising above the tree line and begin to hear the roar of the falls. Once there you are standing on the edge of this cliff watching billions of gallons of water rush over the side, some of it directly beneath you. One of the guidebooks said "it must come closest to the experience that ancient sailors feared" of reaching the edge of the earth where the water rushed over into oblivion. There is so much water concentrated in one spot that there is a constant mist rising up from the base of the falls. This obscures the view of what is going on down there, but instead it presents a constant, gorgeous rainbow for viewing. Every so often the mist rises up high enough and the breeze shifted so that the viewing platform was drenched with a brief rain shower. We spent somewhere between 30 minutes and an hour just staring at the falls. Everywhere you looked there was a different aspect presented, so that you had the grand scope and then hundreds of smaller snapshots presented for your viewing pleasure.

Our second day was spent walking through the jungles, viewing the rest of the falls (of which there are many), first from the Upper Circuit which takes you on metal catwalks again over the tops of the falls and right along the edge where the water plunges over the side. After lunch we walked the Lower Circuit which descends via metal stairways and catwalks down to the river with numerous viewing platforms presenting a variety of views of the falls from a lower perspective. And every time they came into view the picture was more spectacular than the one before. (I know I am gushing and overwhelmingly using superlatives, but trust me, there is no way to do justice to the grandeur, the glory, the beauty, the awesome experience presented by Iguazu Falls.)

At the base of the lower circuit (right before the final descent to the river bank) there is a viewing platform that approaches the base of one of the medium sized cataracts (which when you see the picture will give you an idea of how immense are some of the other cataracts!) If you are brave enough, or foolish enough, to walk out on this platform, you will be soaked to the skin (Dianne and I had our rain jackets to put on), but you will also experience the immense power of the falling water. It creates a constant spray which soaks you. There is a constant breeze blowing from, I assume, the air being displaced by the force of the falling water. It feels like a pretty stiff wind blowing. The deafening sound, like a train rushing by, totally surrounds you. And there is a constant rainbow present. It is an amazingly awesome experience!

I first posted this from an Internet shop in Puerto Iguazu while we were waiting for our afternoon flight to Buenos Aires. I have added some pictures to the post and now finally have added links to Kodak Gallery albums with many more photos for you to enjoy. I shot over 700 photos at the falls and it has taken some time to organize them so I could share a portion of them!!! Don't worry, I did not upload all 700 to the albums. There are quite a few, but you won't want to miss seeing more pictures of the falls, the butterflies, the birds, the animals, the flowers. So much! I promise you will be amazed!

This link takes you to pictures of the falls themselves: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.bdtpijt2&x=0&y=-ppfui6&localeid=en_US

This link takes you to pictures of the wildlife: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.72stird2&x=0&y=-1c509w&localeid=en_US

This link takes you to pictures of the flowers: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.5gl04rye&x=0&y=4zns0m&localeid=en_US

This link takes you to pictures of the butterflies: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.ai7j9ocm&x=0&y=q1ipkx&localeid=en_US

Finally, this link takes you to pictures of the birds: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.8ppldzs6&x=0&y=kvy7da&localeid=en_US

Off to the Jungle!

2008-10-06T22:09:00.003-04:00

Tomorrow morning at 6:30 a.m. we are being picked up by our faithful taxi driver Sergio (although we have not found a bad taxi driver yet) to be driven to the "other" airport, Aeroparque Jorge Newberry, where we will catch our Lan Argentina flight to Puerto Iguazu. It will be 3 days and two nights in the jungle on the border with Brazil and Paraguay, enjoying the incredible Iguazu Falls. We will be communing with the abundant rainforest flora and fauna, including mammoth butterflies, mischevious coatis, talkative parrots and jaguars. It will be a very interesting break from the city.

Today was a very laid back day of getting ready for this side-trip. Steve did laundry in the morning at his favorite neighborhood lavadero (laundromat). Dianne explored the local shops. They went to Steve's favorite lunch place when he was taking classes in Buenos Aires, Nuevo Martone on Avenue Corrientes, and Dianne met Marcello and the gang. They then dropped in on Senora Restelli, with whom Steve stayed when he was in school here. (She was quite impressed with the improvement in Steve's spanish and she was very sweet to Dianne.) Then they went to visit the school and Dianne met Ale, Steve's teacher and Norma, the secretary. They then walked down to Calle Florida and visited several shops, Plaza San Martin, where Dianne asked a police officer why all the officers were standing in a circle around the statue (she learned there was some sort of demonstration to take place in a little while.) After catching a taxi back to Palermo, they had a marvelous dinner at 1810 Cocina Regionale with a nice bottle of Malbec, delicious empanadas, a stew and a squash chicken pot pie, topped off by a very rich dessert with dulce de leche and merengue and two cafes. It was a very enjoyable day.

Tomorrow we are off to Iguazu as already shared, without the computer. So we will probably not post pictures or information about the Falls until Thursday evening.

A Slower-Paced Weekend

2008-10-05T22:01:00.006-04:00

After three very full days visiting parks, taking Tango lessons, walking the central historic district, touring museums, Dianne and I realized we needed to slow down. So the past two days we have taken a more relaxed approach to the city. Each day we slept later and then spent the afternoon attending a craft fair. Saturday it was in La Boca, home of the Italian immigrants (who seem to have been replaced by Peruvians). Sunday it was San Telmo, with their Antiques Fair and street performers. In La Boca we ate a leisurely lunch at an outside table of a Resto-Bar and watched two Tango Shows being presented, one across the street and the other down the street, by performers for other restaurants. Dianne had delicious beef medallions in wine & mushroom sauce and Steve had ravioli with meat sauce, and both enjoyed a a glass of full-bodied Malbec. Then on Sunday lunch was a very tasty, and very filling (Dianne could only eat half of hers) Steak Milanese consumed in the marvelous Bar El Federal (pictured above), dripping with ambiance and old Buenos Aires atmosphere. The days were both filled with bright sunshine, the weather could not have been more perfect. We returned to our apartment tired each evening, yet not worn out. They were more like the days a resident enjoys on the weekend instead of the hectic days a tourist feels driven to cram full of every possible experience available in a city before one must leave, quite possibly never to return. Tomorrow promises to be another day similar to the last two as we will venture downtown briefly, but also spend time preparing for our trip this week to the jungle in northeast Argentina and the spectacular Iquazu Falls.

Tango Night in Buenos Aires

2008-10-04T11:12:00.004-04:00

In the heart of one of the traditional barrios of Buenos Aires, Balvanera, old place of poets and compadritos, near the home barrio and stomping grounds of the most famous Tango singer from Buenos Aires history, Carlos Gardel, Dianne and I immersed ourselves in Tango, the dance of passion and the music of nostalgia. The evening began with a group Tango lesson at Complejo Tango. The L-shaped room was packed with about 40 people, almost all novices, taking the lesson which made for very tight confines, especially when couples started moving and practicing their dancing. But, it gave us a good taste of what a crowded "milonga," public dance hall, will be like if we venture into that environment. The teacher was very good, the class very enjoyable and helpful and we are getting better, growing more confident, in our ability to dance Tango together.

We received our certificate of completion, which meant we were allowed to stay and enjoy dinner and the show (the teacher's joke that if you did not learn well enough, you did not get your certificate, and thus could not stay!) The maitre d' escorted us to a front row table, right next to the stage on the corner, one of the best seats in the house! The dinner was delicious, with a nice bottle of house red wine (a blend of Cabernet & Malbec), very fresh greens and tomatoes in the salad, a tasty and tender steak, followed by a wonderful dessert. (Dianne had wine soaked poached pear with vanilla ice cream and Steve had a white chocolate mousse with red raspberry and currant sauce!)

During dessert the show began, with three energetic young couples dancing Tango and three smooth voiced singers crooning nostalgic songs. Dianne was sung to two or three times during the show, winked at by one at least once, and the show proceeded on the stage and all around us with action periodically taking place in the midst of the audience. Actually, the show began with the three male dancers performing some solo and group numbers, illustrating the beginnings of the dance as an all male dance performed while men waited for their turn in the local bordellos in Buenos Aires. (Tango has a very checkered past!)

The evening was wonderfully fun. The restaurant and show were set on the third floor of this building in what felt like a converted loft. It was designed with wrought iron balconies overlooking the stage. On one balcony the Tango orchestra of four musicians played the live music and on the facing balcony were more tables and chairs (which were not filled this night). It was an excellent introduction to Buenos Aires culture and history, share in more enjoyable fashion.

Today we will probably enjoy more Tango as we are headed to La Boca, one of the oldest barrios in the city, near the mouth of the Riachuelo River. La Boca was settled by Italian immigrants and is one of the barrios that claims to be the birthplace for Tango. It is also home to the famous La Boca Juniors soccer club, which made Diego Maradona famous. The "Caminito" is a kitschy-tourist oriented location, with brightly colored buildings and Tango dancers performing in the streets for the tourist. It will be a nice, relaxing day. We have been keeping a pretty busy schedule since Dianne arrived and have begun to realize the need to slow down a bit and absorb more deeply what we experience.

Dianne Made It!!!

2008-10-02T10:40:00.005-04:00

Dianne finally arrived in Buenos Aires! After her 13 hour flight delay, after taking 40 minutes to retrieve her luggage, clear customs and immigration, we finally embraced outside the doors to international arrivals at Ezeiza Airport in Buenos Aires about 9:45 p.m. Tuesday night. Our taxi ride back to Palermo took about 45 minutes and we had a very Buenos Aires style late dinner together at 11:00 p.m. It is GREAT to have her here.

The schedule I had become used to keeping though is being adjusted. Right now we are still trying to find a schedule. I have not written in my journal since she arrived. I have not posted to the blog until this morning (and only at her insistence, so you could all breathe a sigh of relief that she has arrived safely). She has been catching her own breath after her hectic travel schedule since last Friday. (She flew to New Jersey where she officiated at the wedding of a life-long friend's daughter at Bear Mountain, New York on the Hudson River. She returned to Miami Sunday evening and was supposed to fly to Buenos Aires on Monday night, but didn't leave until Tuesday morning.) We had a Tango lesson with Guadalupe (my Tango teacher) yesterday and then ate lunch at a Pizza Cafe dedicated to the memory of Carlos Gardel, the well-known Tango singer from the 30' & 40's. We then walked to Plaza Congresso an witnessed the ending of some demonstration before the Congress building, down Avenida de Mayo to Plaza de Mayo to see the Casa Rosada (the Presidential Palace) and the Metropolitan Cathedral. There were the remains of another demonstration taking place in Plaza de Mayo (the people here certainly exercise their right to free speech to express their opinions!) After all that walking (we did stop in Cafe Tortoni for a coffee and break) we caught a taxi back to Palermo, picked up some of the best gelatto this side of Italy, and retired to our apartment.

Today we are off to the Parks and Gardens and maybe the Cemetery Recoleta. It is a beautiful day with sun and almost no clouds. It is SO NICE to have the love of my life and my companion and best friend with me to share this amazing city.

The Jesuits in Argentina

2008-09-30T11:37:00.005-04:00

As I am waiting for Dianne, I thought I would share some additional pictures from Córdoba (I know that seems a long time ago that I was in that city, but it was only 4 weeks.) The pictures above and in the Kodak Gallery Album link below, were taken during my tour of the Historic Museum National University of Córdoba, also known as "The Jesuit Block." This block was the center of Jesuit activity, not just in Córdoba, but really all of Argentina, beginning in 1599. At that time Córdoba was still a small town and it was the Jesuits who put it on the map. In Córdoba the Jesuits built the "Colegio Máximo" which became the National University of Córdoba, and the Colegio Nacional de Montserrat. In the surrounding regions they built "Estancias," a system of ranches to provide the support they needed for their religious and educational work.

Their work was interrupted in 1767 when they were expelled from Spain by King Carlos III, and as a result, expelled from the Spanish colonies as well. The King was bothered by their growing wealth and power. As a result, the university and the college became Federal State institutions and remain so to this day. However, much of the original buildings are still in use and a large portion of the original Jesuit Library collection is still intact, with books dating to 1515 included in the collection. This lead the United Nations to declare the colonial buildings of the Jesuit Block a World Heritage site in the year 2000. The University is the oldest university in Argentina and the fourth oldest in America. It is still considered one of the most prestigious academic institutions of Latin America.

We were not allowed to take pictures inside the Museum, where I saw the rare books collection and the Hall of Graduation, with the description of the examination process for doctoral candidates. (It was quite grueling. Went on for three full days, conducted totally in Latin, with the candidate being grilled by ALL the current doctors on the faculty.) But I was able to take pictures of the descriptive plaques which will provide you with more details on the history if you are interested. All these pictures you may find in this Kodak Gallery Album link: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.ci7nk862&x=0&y=-waporw&localeid=en_US

I am including a second link to another Kodak Gallery Album which contains pictures of the Jesuit Crypt, built in the early 1700s to be a crypt and crematorium. Archaeologists do not believe it was ever used, though, as the Jesuits were evicted in 1767. The structure was buried around 1829 and forgotten until Telecom was laying underground telephone cable in 1989 and discovered it. As a result the city restored it. The link is: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.76ymobu2&x=0&y=rdw377&localeid=en_US

Still Waiting for Dianne

2008-09-30T10:11:00.005-04:00

The way life has been going recently, this is no surprise. It is 11:15 a.m. in Buenos Aires and I am still waiting for Dianne's arrival. For some reason, she was not told why, her flight from Miami was delayed 13 hours. That meant she spent last night in the airport Marriott in Miami (courtesy of Lan Argentina, with dinner and breakfast on them) and her flight is scheduled to arrive in Buenos Aires now at 8:25 p.m. local time. Complicating her life beyond that event yesterday was the fact that there were terrible thunderstorms in Miami on Sunday night, one of which knocked out the power at our home for several hours. It also messed up the Internet connection and the telephone lines, (even after the power resumed) all of which complicated her efforts to prepare to leave. But I just spoke with her 15 minutes ago and she was sitting on the plane which appeared to be on-time for departure. So it will only be 9 more hours!

In spite of this glitch, life is returning to normal and my outlook is definitely improving. This morning I was finally able to pick-up the locks to the closets in my apartment from the locksmith with the new keys. I had been very bothered about this because I did not return in time on Saturday to get them and he had closed. He remained closed not only Sunday (which was expected) but also all day Monday (which had me very nervous). On top of the anxiety it added to the fact that every time I had to go out since Friday's trauma I could not secure my computer and other valuable inside the apartment. Nothing happened (actually there is pretty good security on the apartment building itself), but after Friday, my paranoia is definitely on level orange if not red. (I think that is the order for the Homeland Security alerts?) The locksmith was also able to open the lock on my suitcase so I could put a new lock on it (the keys to that lock were also in the backpack) and again have access to my passport! So, the suitcase is now accessible again and the locks are back on the closets. I learned you can use a steak knife as a flat-blade screwdriver. (All sorts of things I am learning on this sabbatical!)

I am listening to the two Tango CDs I purchased this weekend as I write these words, so my attitude toward Buenos Aires is growing more positive as life slowly returns to normal. I was able to reschedule the taxi driver late last night when I found out about the change in Dianne's arrival, which was quite an accomplishment. He speaks almost no English. Plus I had lost his telephone number in the robbery. But I found it on my Skype history. I was able to find a late night locutorio (public telephone shop) to call him. He answered his cell phone so I did not have to leave a message. I was able to communicate what happened and renegotiate when he would pick me up to go to the airport, all in Spanish! (I did write it out before I called, but still...) So I am feeling more capable, more positive about things, than I have for several days.

I also want to say "Thank you" to all those who reached out to me during this difficult time with kind words of support and encouragement. Some did so through my blog, and some through direct emails and some on my Facebook page. All of your comments were strengthening to me and it was good to know I was truly not alone in this situation and, even though distant from me, I was still surrounded by a community of love, support, and concern. God is good and God does provide, almost always in ways we do not expect, but always God demonstrates we are not alone. Thank you all.

Preparing for Dianne - Physically & Spiritually

2008-09-29T17:38:00.004-04:00

Dianne arrives tomorrow! This has been a day of preparing for her arrival. The maid came and cleaned the apartment. I have bought groceries and sweets for breakfast tomorrow if she is hungry upon arriving. The flowers have been replaced with fresh flowers. (I would take a picture of the beautiful violet iris and the scarlet and white amalias, but I can't because I don't have my camera!) I have rearranged my belongings so Dianne has space to put her belongings upon arrival. Everything is pretty much ready, now all I have to do is wait for the time the taxi arrives and I head to the airport to meet her.

As you maybe could tell by the snide side comment in the above paragraph, I very much need her presence for I am still working through the trauma I suffered last Friday. I basically turned into a couch potato this past weekend. On Saturday morning I did trek down to the Police station near the central government area. A very nice and gentle policewoman assisted me in looking at pictures on a computer of men and women that matched my general description of those I felt I might be able to identify. There was one woman who was very close and I had a strong sense it could have been the woman I had the most interaction with during the "sting." I could not come up with a man I felt strongly I could identify. She was going to circulate the woman's picture in the general neighborhood where the event took place. I realize they probably will not catch the people who did this and even if they do I will not recover anything they took (if I could just get the journals back that would be tremendously healing for me) but I do think it was helpful to spend the morning engaged in this task of trying to identify them. I feel that it was an important step in the healing process of dealing with the trauma, the sense of helplessness that it evoked, and trying to move on. After all, I have done all that I can, now I can, I hope, begin to let it go.

I am having trouble doing that, though. I find myself caught in negative thoughts about the city, about those people, as I walk around. Saturday after completing the task with the police I returned immediately to the neighborhood where I live, picked up some empanadas for lunch, and went back to the apartment. I spent the afternoon replacing the camera by purchasing the replacement on-line with Best Buy for pick-up in the local store near my home in Miami, where my daughter went to pick it up. Of course there was a glitch! My credit card company, for some reason, froze the purchase request because it was done on-line. It took three times as long as it should have for me to get the equipment, because I had to call the credit card company, approve the purchase, call Best Buy back twice to get it straightened out. Right now, life is not easy!

Of course, I am writing this as I listen to Wolf Blitzer on CNN talking about the $1.2 trillion stock loss on the US stock market today! I cannot even fathom what is really happening at home right now. I know that this financial crisis is filling the local papers and even the local news here, but the concerns are not the same, I don't believe, as what is possibly taking place back home. People here are certainly concerned, but it appears to me that they don't feel their economy and other world economies are so tightly tied to the US economy that it will destroy their lives. Whether that is true or not, being outside of the US during this certainly brings a different perspective.

One of the pieces that has helped me was the UCC On-line Devotional this morning, written by the Rev. Kenneth L. Samuel, Pastor of Victory for the World Church, United Church of Christ, Stone Mountain, Georgia. The devotion is called "Deep Calls to Deep" and is a reflection on Psalm 42: "My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your cataracts; all your waves and your billows have gone over me." Here are his words:

From the dark dungeon of a deep distress, the Psalmist discovers something that persons who live only in the shallow plateaus of comfort and convenience may never know. The Psalmist discovered that the profound depth of a person's distress causes that person to tap more deeply into the inner recesses of spirit and soul. In fact, it often takes a deep debacle or a cataclysmic calamity to reveal to us that which is really at the core of our being. Trouble, adversity and trial show us who we really are by causing us to tap more deeply into the depths of energy, hope and resilience that we never knew we had. Deep depression and deep disaster call us, beckon us and invite us to explore the depths of faith, hope and resilience that are deeply embedded in the souls of all who cultivate faith in God. And the good news is that like the Psalmist, we can discover that our faith in God is much deeper than the disasters of our circumstance.

Reading this I realize that some of the practices that connected me with God had been ignored by me this past weekend. I have not been reciting my mantra "Ubi Caritas" (honestly, I have not felt like there was much "love and charity" present in my life since Friday). I did not resume writing in my journal until late yesterday, with a follow-up this morning. (And as I had discovered earlier on Sabbatical, when I don't journal I don't deal with life as well. Since I resumed journaling, I do think I have begun the slow process of healing, as I already feel a little more positive.) I had not been meditating (at least not actively) during the weekend. Quite honestly, I think what I did was retreat into my "cave" and lick my wounds. Which was possibly what I needed to do at that point. But now I want to get out of the cave. I want to engage the city once again (which I began to do as I prepared for Dianne's arrival with all the errands I needed to complete) and which I know I will have to do with Dianne, for I want her to have a good experience. As hurtful as this experience has been, as much as it is threatening to color my view of this city, I still believe that this is a great city, with wonderful aspects and amazing people.

It was helpful for me to read that Devotional and hear the Word of God speaking to my deep hurt and my deep fears. As it spoke to me, I shared it because perhaps it may speak to whatever deep hurts and fears you have in these troubled times.

Probably My Worst Day of the Sabbatical

2008-09-26T23:00:00.008-04:00

They took the wind right out of my sails!!!! At least for the moment. Today, (Friday) just as I was falling in love with this city, it rose up and smacked me in the face. I was robbed! That's right, I became a victim of a distraction scam that resulted in me losing my backpack, my camera (and all its equipment), and the one that hurt the most, both of my journals, in which I have been recording my thoughts and feelings and reflections for the past 3 months. I am fine. I really don't believe I was ever in any real physical danger. I was distracted by several people around me, while I was sitting on a bench in a public park, with other people around in view. It was very well done, and on reflection, I think it was quite elaborate. I quickly, once I realized my backpack was gone, identified that at least 4 people were involved, with three of them distracting me, and I never saw the fourth, but I know the other three did not take my backpack. But on further reflection, I think there was even another person involved in that distraction effort. It was all very subtle. But "strange" things began to take place in my view, which caught my attention, and led me to let down my guard and lose my items. I tried to run them down, but they even sent me in the wrong direction at first.

I spent a very upset next few hours. First, I talked to two security guards at the park, one of whom helped me search for my backpack and the people I had seen (of course to no avail). I then went to the local police office and filed a "denuncia" (denunciation), which is filing a charge. Part of that paperwork is evidently even going to a judge. I am going to another police office tomorrow to look at "mug" shots and see if any faces are familiar. There was a very nice woman at the park who heard me struggling to talk to one of the security guards. She was bilingual and helped me communicate. The police were very solicitous and kind and gentle (though I realize there is really not much they will be able to do). So, even as the city slapped me sharply, at the same time it reached out and picked me up and comforted me.

At least I did not suffer any physical harm. At least I did not have any important papers, documents, credit cards or money in the pack. The camera I can replace (also, at least I have kept up with downloading my pictures to my external hard drive, to my Kodak Gallery Albums, and to CD's, so I did not lose any of what I have already captured.) The backpack I can replace. I will struggle to replace my journals (in fact I really cannot, but I can start a new one and I do have my blog entries).

But I have been violated (as any person who suffers a crime against them has been) and I am angry. As I said at the beginning, these people took the wind right out of my sails. I have been reading a book that a member of my church gave me before I left about Buenos Aires that is subtitled "A cultural and literary companion." It is a marvelous book that tries to understand and characterize this city through its history, and through the words and descriptions of this city that writers, novelists, poets, both indigenous and foreign, have written. It has enriched greatly my understanding and my appreciation for and view of this city. My reading, along with all the good experiences I have been having, have strengthened my comfort level with the city, made it begin to feel like home, and was leading me to fall in love with it. Then this. (Actually, I think all that contributed as well to my guard being lowered so that I became an easy mark.)

One of my colleagues and friends in his blog on spiritual matters reflected on the story in Matthew 14 of Peter bravely stepping out of the boat to "walk on the water" with Jesus. "But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened and he began to sink. He cried out, 'Lord, save me.'" In his reflection he pointed out that even though Peter stepped out in faith, "when he saw trouble brewing, his faith weakened and he began to sink. How often does this happen to us? We start out with bold motives, but when opposition challenges us we falter and fall away. Our faith task is to allow God to surprise us, to become more than we think we are, and this means moving beyond the secure places and daring to stand firm in the midst of the storms of life." I need that surprising word tonight. I need to remember that while this at first felt like a sabbatical-crushing experience that might possibly color my entire experience with negativity and bitterness, it mighty actually turn out to be a sabbatical-strengthening experience. It may actually turn out to be one of those times in life when I become more aware of the presence of God and identify the way in which God is with me, watching over me, and able to help me walk through the storm in amazing ways, even on the surface of the water.

I don't have the reflections yet, but I can sense that I am beginning to move beyond my initial anger, my initial hurt, my initial sense of being a victim. My trip to Tigre, to the delta of the river Paraná, tomorrow is being canceled. I just don't have the energy for that trip. I am going to go to the Police Station and look at faces in pictures. I will have a nice lunch, and then I will hang out in the apartment. I need some down time. I need to reflect on this. I need to begin my new journal. I need to to work on my Spanish even more vigorously, for though it is there, it was not very good in such a stressful situation. But I am okay. I will be okay. And I know there are even more learning's to draw from this experience as part of my sabbatical. Thank you for your prayers. (The pictures above include two from the garden near the spot where this happened and two of a local police station in a different barrio, but put up to honor the assistance they did provide to me.)

Don't Wake Me From This Dream!

2008-09-24T17:58:00.003-04:00

For some reason it hits me late at night. Each night when I turn out the lights and lie in bed waiting for sleep I realize that I am looking out the window of a ninth floor apartment in Buenos Aires, a major city in the southern hemisphere, in South America. Before I fall asleep it already feels like a dream! I walk around the streets of a city that in many respects is the most cosmopolitan city of Latin America, perhaps in the Western Hemisphere (I know I will get debate from my friends who love New York, Chicago, LA, even Miami.) But just living here is an amazing experience and I keep waiting to awaken from this dream.

Every afternoon I spend a few hours visiting a museum (yesterday I visited the Eva Peron Museum and today it was the Nacional Museum of Decorative Arts) or visiting a special park. As I walk the streets I see buildings from the 1800's and early 1900's in the French Renaissance style, the Belle Epoque style, right next to more modern high rise structures. I go out for lunch every day and go the large supermarket about twice a week. Then I visit the corner fruit and vegetable market about every 2-3 days. My lunches are casual, not rushed, my dinner's late and simple.

There is ample time for reflection, on my life, on the world, on my work life and my call to ministry. Some of that reflection comes in quiet moments spent writing in my journal. Some of that reflection comes when I am walking the streets, on my way somewhere. Some of it comes while enjoying lunch, or a late afternoon café espresso. My spiritual moments come in times of reflection, or in times of standing in wonder in the middle of a beautiful park or plaza, or while walking and reciting my Latin chant mantra: "Ubi caritas, et amor; ubi caritas, Deus ibi est." (Where there is charity and love; where there is charity, there is God.)

This has been a wonderful time of growth and reflection for me. I have grown through gaining the knowledge of how to speak Spanish and the skill to do that with some capability. I have grown through the experience of living in a different culture, a different nation, a different part of the world. I have grown through moving outside my comfort zone, pushing my boundaries, learning that I can adapt and am still fairly flexible. I have grown through the times of reflection that have allowed me to take stock of my life and my ministry. It has been and continues to be a marvelous and amazing sabbatical experience, more than I ever imagined it would be.

I have not been taking many pictures lately, and the museums here in Buenos Aires do not allow photos, even without flash, so here is a link to some photos I took in an art museum in Cordoba with a taste of Argentine artists. This link will take you to a Kodak Gallery Album: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.a4avvx16&x=0&y=-ybuggz&localeid=en_US

A Day of Reflection

2008-09-22T17:07:00.004-04:00

Today was another low-key day of reflection and meditation here in Palermo. I left the apartment mid-morning since the maid came to clean, and I walked back to where I had spent a large part of yesterday, down by the French Embassy. Yesterday the Embassy opened its doors to the public from 12 noon - 6:00 p.m. and I joined the long lines of people who waited to enter and view this Belle Epoque style building constructed in the early 1900's. Originally it was the home of the Ortiz Basualdo family, it became the French Embassy in 1939. The French saved the building from destruction by refusing to give it up when the Military Regime in power wanted to demolish it as part of the their plan to create the grand boulevard of 9 de Julio. Much of the building has been preserved as it was originally constructed and the main living areas on the second floor were the parts opened to the public. These included the library, the billiards or smoking room, the dance hall, the corner sitting parlor, and the dining room. Several of the rooms had a Versailles feel to them while the dining room was patterned more on an English design. It was a most interesting visit, unfortunately they did not allow pictures.

That is why I returned today. Also, because I wanted to visit nearby Plazoleto Carlos Pellegrini which one of the guidebooks described as one of the best places to capture a sense of the former glory of late 19th, early 20th, century Buenos Aires. It most definitely is true. This small, very well-kept plaza, is surrounded on three sides by well-preserved buildings that present a small vista of what Buenos Aires must have looked like in the early 1900's. One building is now the Brazilian Embassy. There is also the French Embassy, the Jockey Club, and the BNP (Nacional Bank of Paris). You can see part of the view in the photo above.

After visiting this pleasant little square, I proceeded a few blocks further on to find the memorial to the former Israeli Embassy. In 1992 a car bomb destroyed the embassy and killed 29 persons. The space has been turned into a memorial with a raised area that identifies the former outline of the building and the 29 victims remembered by 22 trees and 7 benches. It is a stark space that certainly highlights the continuing, senseless violence in our world. I had intended to spend some time in this plaza writing in my journal and reflecting on life, but it was too stark a place for that kind of reflection. I did spend a bit of time on one of the benches and reflect on our inability to find peace and a way to live together in the world. People and cultures are far more alike than different, yet most people do not believe that to be true and instead focus on our differences. As a result our divisions grow deeper, lead to growing tensions, and eventually senseless violence. In fact, it was certainly an appropriate day for me to visit this memorial: the night before the Marriott Hotel in Islamabad, Pakistan was car bombed, killing more than 50 people and today there was a driver in Jerusalem who seemed intent on doing harm to pedestrians with his automobile and the Egyptian government announced the kidnapping of about 20 tourists in southern Egypt. I have to wonder how it is that we think we are "winning" this war on terror?

In the following link to another Kodak Gallery Album you will see more photos of the French Embassy and Plazoleto Carlos Pellegrini and the Israeli Embassy Memorial. There are also some photos from one of my walks this past week of the Plaza de Chili and some of the buildings surrounding that plaza. Here is the link to the photos: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.1uascjk6&x=0&y=-3gl7rr&localeid=en_US

The Healing Power of Nature

2008-09-20T09:18:00.003-04:00

Life continues to be relaxed, yet very full, in Buenos Aires. It has been a couple of days since my last post and I have had a variety of experiences. On Wednesday, I finally made my return visit to the Ecologica Reserva. This is a large park on the coast of the Rio Plata beyond the Puerto Madero. There is an amazing story behind this park. Before the 1960's the land on which this park sits did not even exist! At least, not above the water of the Rio Plata. This park is a testament to the ability of creation to heal itself. In the 1960's & 1970's Buenos Aires was engaged in a large building campaign: building a highway system (las autopistas). In the process they had to tear down lots of buildings and tear up lots of old roadways. What to do with the demolition and construction debris became a problem they solved by unceremoniously dumping it in the Rio Plata! This is not all that surprising when one examines the map of the coastline. From the delta to the northwest past the city to the southeast there are no real opportunities to get to the coast because it is all industrialized.

Except for the Ecologica Reserva! What happened after they dumped the construction debris was that nature reclaimed the space. Over the years sand and sediment from the Rio Plata collected and built up on the debris. This was followed by plants and now birds use the area as a prime breeding ground. It is a marvelous oasis just blocks from the city. As you will see in the photos, you can see the high rise buildings being constructed in Puerto Madero, but you cannot hear any of the city noise. (Except for the occasional airplane either taking off or landing at the Aeroparque farther up the coast near Palermo.) Plus you can walk along the coast of the Rio Plata (which residents of Buenos Aires claim is actually a river, but it sure looks like the South Atlantic Ocean to me. You cannot see any opposing shore on the horizon, and there are large, ocean-going ships moving in and out of the port nearby.) You don't want to get into the water for swimming, though, as it is highly polluted!

I first visited the Reserve at the end of my first three week stay in the city the day before I boarded the bus to Cordoba. It was a breath of fresh air for my soul. I had gone three weeks without seeing the ocean (except for a brief, distant glimpse from the upper deck of la Bombanera, the futbol stadium where I enjoyed the futbol match one Sunday afternoon.) I had not realized how much I have become connected, spiritually, to water. One of the things so renewing for me about Bariloche, even more than the strong presence of the mountains, was the comforting presence of Lago Nahuel Huapi. Being able to view that large body of water each day did more to bring peace and comfort to my soul than just about anything else I have experienced on this Sabbatical. I think it is a huge reason why I love the Boundary Waters in Minnesota and always yearn to return as soon as I leave.

Along with the visual contact with the water, the Reserva was also renewing because of the large variety of birds present and very active. I was able to take some amazing photos of birds, some quite colorful. All of this - the water, the birds, the feeling of a wild space that buffered the reality of the city - contributed to lifting my spirit and to leaving me with a desire to return as soon as I could when I moved back to Buenos Aires. It was why I tried for the first two days of the week to get back there. It was why I finally made sure I did on Wednesday. (And that even though I had decided on Tuesday evening that I really did not want to return to the downtown area because of the noise, crowds, traffic, and fumes, very much until Dianne arrived.) But I did go and Wednesday was a glorious day of sun (in fact, I ended up with a sun-burned face) and I did have an enjoyable visit.

I will talk about my other, very different experiences on Thursday and Friday in my next post. To view the pictures I took at the Ecologica Reserva on my two visits, follow this link to the Kodak Gallery Album: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.33z7gfgq&x=0&y=-g6u917&localeid=en_US

Two days to just "be"

2008-09-16T20:53:00.006-04:00

Yesterday and today, (Monday and Tuesday) ended up as days I just spent "being." That is, while I did do some things, I did not especially "accomplish" anything, but have the sense that I spent the days just "existing" and enjoying life. I had intended, each day, to be more intentional about my activity. Both days I planned to go to the Ecologica Reserva, the large wild park on the coast of the Rio Plata (which looks like the ocean to me), but Monday I did not make it and Tuesday I took the subway all the way down to Plaza de Mayo (the end of the line) and started walking toward the Reserva, when I turned around and headed in another direction. (It was already 10:30 a.m., the day was totally overcast, windy, and very cool; it definitely did not seem like a day to go walk along the ocean.)

What I ended up doing each afternoon was to spend time in a garden in Palermo. On Monday it was the Jardin Botanico (the Botanical Garden) and on Tuesday it was the Jardin Japonese (the Japanese Garden). Both are marvelous spots, filled with feasts for the eyes and, even though in the midst of the city, oases of tranquility. The Jardin Botanico was created in 1897 by Charles Thays, French-born landscape architect. It has a wide variety of trees, shrubs, plants, etc., plus a very interesting collection of statues. The Jardin Japonese was created in 1967 to mark the visit of the crown prince and princess of Japan. Other Japanese royalty (or it may have been the same people, I can't quite keep the names straight) have visited Buenos Aires a number of times over the years, and they have a stone plaque in the garden to mark each visit!

In each place I spent time taking pictures, observing the surroundings slowly as I did, and then I took time to just sit on a bench, write some in my journal, soak up the sun (although Tuesday there were more clouds than sun) and just enjoy, as fully as possible, what each garden had to offer. It was nice. Along with those afternoon experiences, the rest of the day was spent handling small errands (like buying some small screws to repair the TV stand, and some pens and envelopes, and groceries each day), eating leisurely lunches out and fixing my own dinner in, working on the computer (handling email, including sending some email to friends in Spanish, writing in my blog, uploading pictures, etc.) The days are being spent at a leisurely pace, which is definitely needed by me, after the last six weeks. For while I was not working 50-60 hour weeks as I usually do back home, I was engaged in work with my language studies, with homework each night and a need to review the days lessons so I could move on to a new lesson the next day, plus make sure I soaked up as much of each location as I could in my "free" time. They were very busy weeks. This week has started off as full, but not with a sense of "busy-ness" or "urgency."

I read that the Buenos Aires poet and author, Jorge Luis Borges, spoke of "Palermo's unending siesta" and I quite agree it has that feel. After going down to the central city area today and experiencing again the narrow, crowded streets and sidewalks, the constant noise, the bus fumes, in contrast, Palermo almost feels sleepy. It is not, and there are busy streets in this barrio as well, but they are wider, the narrow side streets do not have nearly as much traffic on them as the city center does, and people move at a slower pace here. It definitely has a different feel about it, and the noise level, and the exhaust fumes, at not as oppressive here. I definitely like this barrio, and am very glad I am living here for this month. If and when I want to go into the city, it is only a 10-15 minute subway ride. But for the most part, I think I will spend most of my time here in Palermo the next two weeks, until Dianne gets here, when I am sure we will be visiting the central city area much more.

One of the habits I have picked up from the Argentines is my late afternoon coffee. Even before these last two days, it started during my first sojourn in Buenos Aires, continued in Cordoba, and in Bariloche. Each afternoon I find a cafe and get some form of espresso (which is the basic coffee in Argentina.) I must say, they make GREAT coffee here. I have yet to have a bad cup, even the coffee made at the schools was great. And the coffee in the cafe's is wonderful. I would put it right next to Italy's coffee in quality! It is strong and rich, but with no bitterness. I wonder what my schedule will be like when I return to Miami? Will I still find time for my afternoon coffee? Part of the problem is we do not have the cafe lifestyle as they do here. Starbucks is just not the same. (By the way, I did finally find a Starbucks in Palermo. It was in a huge shopping mall! I did not get coffee there. I do not think it would be able to compare with that available in the cafes.)

If you want to see pictures of the gardens follow these links to the Kodak Gallery Albums I have created. This first link takes you to pictures of the statues in the Botanical Garden: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.8j8bwjcm&x=0&y=-r893mo&localeid=en_US

This second link takes you to pictures of the plants in the Botanical Garden: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.7dveymd2&x=0&y=-fp7ep6&localeid=en_US

Finally, this third link takes you to pictures of the Japanese Garden: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.9unxh8fq&x=0&y=rxm91f&localeid=en_US

Returning to Buenos Aires felt like coming home!

2008-09-15T07:33:00.005-04:00

I experienced a very interesting feeling upon my return to Buenos Aires yesterday. It felt like I was back home. I don't mean Miami, but that I had returned to a very familiar place. On the taxi ride from the bus terminal to the apartment I recognized streets, sights, and just the feel of the city was very familiar. It was a much different feeling than the one I had six weeks ago when I landed at the airport and rode into the city in a taxi. That day I was a foreigner in a strange land. I was overwhelmed by the large city, by the strangeness of it all. This time, I was a traveler returning to a very familiar place, a place I knew (at least to some extent.) It was surprising to feel this way, but it was also very nice, very comfortable.

In the afternoon I walked around my Palermo neighborhood and found the very large park system (I say system, because it is not really one park, but several very closely situated, but divided by busy streets, some extremely wide (one street must have had a dozen lanes, most headed into the city.) The parks include a large botanical garden, a zoo, a Japanese garden, a park around a lake with pedal boats and row boats for rent, a park around a planetarium, a tennis complex, a golf course, a huge rose garden (currently under rehabilitation), and two or three other parks that were just primarily green spaces with trees, statues, paths, etc. I discovered that this is the place all the people in Palermo must go on nice weekends. The parks were PACKED with people, especially families, playing, enjoying picnics on blankets, walking dogs, enjoying the boats on the lake, visiting the zoo and the other gardens (the Japanese Garden was completely filled with people. I view a Japanese Garden as a place to go for a quiet experience that is reflective and meditative: not possible in this garden yesterday! It looked from the outside more like a Disney World experience! I will go back on a weekday for my visit.

I also stumbled upon the US embassy. After six weeks in the country I finally found it. Actually, I stumbled upon the Ambassador's residence. I was coming out of the northern half of the large park complex when I noticed this very ornate, building in a Parisian style of architecture with a US flag at half-mast. I assumed it had to be the Embassy and I walked over to inquire of the guard "who died?" since we usually only fly the flag that way when someone of significance to our nation dies. Turned out not to be the Embassy, but the Ambassador's residence. The Embassy was three blocks further south. So, I headed there just to check it out. I must say, the Ambassador's residence is much nicer looking than the Embassy, which looks like a concrete structure primarily built for security. (I learned the flags were at half-mast for 9/11.)

The bus ride from Bariloche was uneventful. It was a very full bus this time, with several groups of people returning to Buenos Aires from holidays in Bariloche. The landscape looked totally different from two weeks before when we drove through it entering Bariloche in a heavy snowstorm. The sun was out, the sky was a bright blue with no clouds, and it was gorgeous. There are very few trees, mostly low growing scrub type vegetation. The mountains have some amazing rock formations. And the water in the river and large lakes was a glorious turquoise shade with, at times, a touch of green color. The pictures above are from the bus ride. If you would like to see more photos, follow this Kodak Gallery link to the album: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.40vjvpva&x=0&y=q5w079&localeid=en_US

My New Home - All My Own!

2008-09-14T20:42:00.005-04:00

I am sitting in my 9th floor apartment in Buenos Aires watching Sunday Night Football (yes, the American version: Pittsburgh Steels vs. Cleveland Browns) but with a Spanish soundtrack. So I get to do a very US activity, but practice my Spanish at the same time! (Although I admit, this is not much practice, since I mostly just watch.

I have returned to Buenos Aires and am living in an apartment in Palermo, which is west of downtown by probably three or four miles, maybe more. It is several subway stops, that is for sure. It is a very nice, quiet neighborhood. And the apartment building seems very quiet. It helps that I am on the top floor, so there is no one above me to make noise. The apartment is small, one big room, but on three levels, so it adds some separation. The bedroom is on one level at the end with the sliding door and the little balcony. The living area is three steps down and includes a seating area, a TV, a small fireplace, and a dining table. Then there are three steps up to the entry area and the bathroom and kitchen. It is nice and cozy.

But it is not Bariloche! Instead of the gorgeous view of the mountains and lake, I have a gorgeous view of the backsides of several old and worn apartment buildings, looking nine floors down into a crummy looking little patio area. I don't even had a view of the city, other than the view you will see in the pictures.

However, it is my own space! That is the most important part at this point in time. I really enjoyed what I learned and the hospitality shown to me, by the four families I stayed with the past 6 weeks, but after living in a bedroom in someone else's home for that long I am ecstatic with any space, as long as I can call it my own (at least for the next 4 weeks!) This place is quite cozy and comfy and I know I will be very happy here the next 4 weeks.

To see pictures of the apartment, follow this link: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.9blitwfq&x=0&y=98qyob&localeid=en_US

Adios, Bariloche!

2008-09-13T09:06:00.006-04:00

This is my last post from San Carlos de Bariloche. It has been a wonderful place to visit and live for two weeks. My soul has been greatly nourished by the mountains and lake, even by the snow. I have seen amazing sights, I have met wonderfully gracious and enjoyable people, and I have reached the Intermediate 1 level in my Spanish studies. It was a great two weeks. In a few hours I board a Via Bariloche bus to return to Buenos Aires and life in the big city. I am much more ready for that reality now than I was six weeks ago when I stepped off that plane from Miami. I am looking forward to the experience of simply living as a local for the next 4 weeks.

As I leave Bariloche I want to share with you the Cathedral of La Nuestra Senora de Nahuel Huapi. You have already seen exterior photos of this Cathedral, because it is right in the center of the view from my apartment bedroom. But one day this past week I visited the Cathedral and it is a wonderfully peaceful, sacred space. I could truly worship there on a regular basis and find a connection with God. It is not the oldest church I have visited in Argentina, but it is one of those where I felt a strong presence of Spirit.

The Cathedral was built in 1946 and the construction is clearly more modern than the ancient cathedrals, including the use of concrete in the pillars, walls, and vault structure. But it also made heavy use of stone and it quite attractive. The name remembers the image of the Virgin which accompanied the first Jesuit missionary to the region in 1670 and they have a replica of that image, a sculpture, that graces their altar area. It is quite lovely.

Only two blocks from the Lake, the Cathedral sits on a small bluff overlooking the water. As a result, even though the lake shore drive, a very busy street, runs right alongside, it is several meters below the level of the Cathedral and the park which surrounds it, and it does not impact the serene setting. On my last day of class, walking by the park, I spotted a flock of raptors, some sort of hawk or small eagle. I never knew these birds to function in flocks, but these clearly were. It was not a huge group, maybe six birds, but still, I have always known raptors to be solo creatures, at most functioning in pairs. It was interesting and I got some great photos.

Anyway, follow the link below to the Kodak Gallery Album to enjoy the inside of the Cathedral. Someday, I hope to return to Bariloche and share it directly with Dianne. If you make a visit to Buenos Aires, I would encourage you to definitely put it on your itinerary. It is a gem spot in a country filled with amazing and beautiful places to visit.

The link for the Cathedral photos is: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.8qae3nkm&x=0&y=-6geaaz&localeid=en_US

My last day of language classes!!!

2008-09-12T15:55:00.006-04:00

Today I accomplished one goal of my sabbatical! I completed my six weeks of Spanish language classes. Yo apprendi mucho y yo comprendo mas espanol que antes mi clases. Es necesito yo practicare mi espanol cada dia, para que mi mejorar. (I have learned much and I comprehend more Spanish than before my classes. It is necessary I practice my Spanish each day, so that I improve.) I plan to do that especially these next two weeks while I await Dianne's arrival in Buenos Aires. I return there tomorrow (actually, I get on the bus at 2 p.m. and arrive in Buenos Aires at 9:30 a.m. Sunday). I have rented an apartment for a month and will spend two weeks alone as a Porteno, practicing my Spanish, enjoying the city, and just spending time reflecting and being. It will nice to have absolutely no requirements on me or my time, not even the simple one of class. I do need to practice my Spanish, continue my exercises, but that is not a have-to, that is a desire on my part. I do want to explore more of the city, but again, it is not a have-to, but a desire on my part. I did some of that my first three weeks, and I will do more when Dianne arrives, but these two weeks, pure and simple freedom for me!

I celebrated the end of my classes. Not that I am happy they are over. In fact, there is a sadness in me. Especially at the completion of these final two weeks. I strongly connected with my last teacher, Ani Kantar. I am not sure why, but she was an excellent teacher. Perhaps, it was because my skills had improved to the point where we spent much more time conversing and I got to share more and learned more about her than I did with the other teachers. I appreciate all my teachers, for each one helped me and gave me good instruction, but Ani and Ale (my second teacher in Buenos Aires) were special and hold a special place in my heart. I will always be grateful for the skill they helped me gain in learning to communicate in Spanish.

So, my celebration included: a bife y chorizo plato at Rock Chicken (the Argentine "fast food" place I pictured in the last post on food.) This was a beefsteak and pork sausage with a lettuce, onion and carrot salad and a glass of red wine (house). Then I had a celebratory drink at the Pilgrim Bar (again, pictured in the last post, through the Kodak Gallery link of pictures of Bariloche town.) I taught the bartender how to make a Rusty Nail! They had the ingredients, but had never heard of it. I taught him my recipe, which is stronger than most bars in the States, so any future requests will get a very strong Rusty Nail. It is very interesting here, when you want ice with a drink, most places provide you the ice in a mini-ice bucket! Very cute! And you add what you want. That is the explanation for the picture above! After the drink I walked across the street to the best helado joint (ice cream) in town (according to the guide books), Jauja. Since there are strong Italian influences in Argentina, most of the ice cream is like gelato, and this place is definitely that way. I had Chocolate Profundo and Praline. Excellente!! I have topped all that off with a cafe grande at Tante Frida's while I work on my computer. All their coffee, unless it is specifically labeled "Cafe Americano" is like espresso, even more than cafe cubano, and it excellent! Even a large size, is just more of the same! I love that caffeine!!!

Anyway, I am in a great mood having reached a conclusion and feeling like I have truly achieved something. Bariloche has been a great stop on my adventure. Each stop has been wonderful. Buenos Aires was a great beginning. Cordoba was wonderful for helping me learn the history. And Bariloche is gorgeous, very peaceful and tranquil, and was truly the cherry on top of the marvelous treat that has been Argentina.

I would really like to come back and spend more time in Bariloche. Of course, I would want to come back to my 6th floor apartment looking out on the lake!!! But where ever I stayed, this place would be a wonderful place to spend some time in the summer, trekking in the mountains, visiting the glaciers on Mt. Tronodor, enjoying the Lake. In fact, I would love to return and spend more time in Argentina, period. Those of you who have read from the beginning may remember my first impressions of Buenos Aries and Argentina were not positive. But I can truly say that after six weeks of living here, in three different locations, with four different families, I have come to love this country and the people. Learning the language has definitely helped, but also, spending a healthy amount of time, six weeks, has been important. You cannot truly get to know a place intimately in a two week vacation. It takes time. It takes the experience of living in a place long enough to begin to feel like a resident, to truly gain an appreciation for a location and its people. Unfortunately, most of us do not have the luxury of that sort of time when we are able to travel and visit a place. I am very thankful for the gift of this sort of time through this Sabbatical.

More on Food

2008-09-11T16:36:00.005-04:00

I have not been doing many tourist-like activities this week. Since I have moved downtown and on Wednesday we moved my classes into town, I have not been walking as far or visiting as many tourist locations. I did visit the Museum of Patagonia yesterday, which was very interesting. Sadly, the story of the Spanish encounters with and dealings with the Indians is the same as that of the US government. Once the railroads and refrigeration came, they could expand the cattle ranches in the pampas and so they needed to move the Indians out of the way. So they did. With violence. The pictures of the Indians in the museum from the late 1800's looked just like the pictures of the Indians in the US West from the same time period. Same faces, same clothes, basically the same people. I also visited the Cathedral, which I will say more about in another post.

So, I want to share more about the food. I did not tell you about parrillas and asado and postres. Parrillas and asado are the pride and joy of Argentina. Parrillas are "grills" and asado is "barbecue." They are often used interchangeably, although there are differences. Asado is often roasted meat cooked over an open wood fire on a spit, in fact lambs are cooked in a splayed-out fashion that is quite dramatic. Parilla is a form of grilling meat, similar to our grills, but always with wood or charcoal, never gas (as far as I can tell.) So, in essence they are the same thing, although Argentines will argue with you if you say that.

Parrilladas are basically steak houses, and also the term for a dish of grilled meat. At parilladas you can get steaks, although the cuts all seem to be different from the way we cut steak in the US. There are lomos, vacios, asados, bife de chorizo. (Lomo = loin; vacio is a sort of strip steak, asado a cut from the end of the ribs; and bife de chorizo, a large steak.) There are also other cuts, especially in the fancier restaurants. A parillada dish of grilled meat though usually includes more than just steak. It usually includes a variety of pieces of the cow or lamb, including: chinchulinos, a piece of roasted intestine; tripe, also intestine; higado, liver; corazon, heart; mollejas, sweetbreads (usually brains); and chorizo, which is similar to Italian sausage, and blood sausage, which does seem to be sausage that has actual blood in the casing along with other stuffing (it is very moist, even after cooking, and is very dark.) This is the national dish. I did have parrillada one day in Cordoba, and it was OK. I did not gag or get nauseous. The parts were all edible, but honestly, not my cup of tea. I would prefer a nice, juicy steak rather than all the innards, but I can say I tried it. I don't plan to try it again, unless Dianne wants to, and then I will since, actually, it is usually served as a dish for two or more people. (In Cordoba the owner of the Parilla was nice enough to split one for me.) The steaks are delicious. The beef is supposedly all grass fed on pampas grass, not in feed lots and not pumped full of chemicals. They pride themselves on the natural state of their beef. I have yet to encounter a tough or stringy steak.

As I mentioned, they do a lot with pasta, as well as chicken (almost everything they do with steak they do with chicken, and they also do more traditional chicken dishes) and they have pizzas galore. They have lots of wine available, the reds are the best, and in many places you can get cheap house wine by the glass or jar, which is not bad, and of course wherever you are ordering meat you can get bottles of wine, in a wide range of prices. They also serve water with or without gas and gaseosas (which are sodas).

For desserts they do flan, and rice pudding, plus tiramisu, and tortas (which are cakes, in a wide variety of styles, all very large portions and very rich looking.) They also have helado (ice-cream) which, because of the influence of their Italian immigrants, is basically the same as gelato! And, in Bariloche, they do chocolate! Wow, do they do chocolate. You cannot walk down a block on any street in the downtown without encountering a chocolate store. Some of the larger stores have two or three locations (smaller satellite locations in addition to the main store). I taste tested my way through many of the stores searching for the best to buy for family back home and definitely Mamuschka is THE BEST! They have bonbons filled with liquor that is like getting an actual shot of whisky once you bite into it! Not just a taste. And their tablets of dark chocolate are divine. The second-best I found is a small shop on the other main street, "Chocolate de Pueblo" and the third best was a small shop where you could see them making the chocolate out my the school, but I have not returned there, so I only tried it once. There is even a chocolate museum in town, operated by Fenoglio, one of the large chocolate stores, but I did not visit. I have definitely been following the new physician guidelines for preventing strokes by consuming a small (I stress small) quantity of dark chocolate each day while I am here. (I have also lost weight, so I promise you it has been a small quantity. Besides, the chocolate is so rich that you really do not need, nor can I, consume a large amount.)

I am including a link to a Kodak Gallery album with pictures of Bariloche town that give you a feel for the city itself, aside from the spectacular views of the mountains and lake. The pictures above are of two parillas, the one in Bariloche of which I spoke, and the small one in Buenos Aires, with examples of the meat on the grill. Follow this link to the pictures of Bariloche: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.2m4f8m3a&x=0&y=8z6e2g&localeid=en_US

My trip on Lago Nahuel Huapi

2008-09-10T17:38:00.004-04:00

I know I mentioned this briefly in an earlier post, but let me tell you more about my marvelous excursion on Lago Nahuel Huapi. I had not planned to go, as it seemed a bit expensive, and a day on a boat on a mountain lake in winter did not sound like an enjoyable day to me. But, I rethought it, and on the bus trip out to that end of the Lake (which is the prime trip to take as a tourist, known as Circuito Chico [The Little Circuit]) I decided to see if I could get on the boat. I could and it turned out not to be that expensive: $110 pesos for the boat and $20 pesos for entry into the national park (which they don't tell you about when you buy the boat ticket!) for a total of $130 pesos which sounds expensive (and is if you talk to Argentinos) but translates to $43 US. For six hours on a boat, with guided tours at the two stops, in an amazingly beautiful location, really not that bad as I recall such excursions in the States.

Anyway, I started out on the top deck (two decks total, top exposed, bottom enclosed) and lasted about 15 minutes into the trip before the cold wind while the boat was moving drove me below. You could still see very well through the large window and the pictures as you will see in the Kodak Album prove how amazingly beautiful it is up here. The first stop on the tour was Isla Victoria. This large island in the lake was turned into an experimental tree farm in the early 1900's by someone (I don't remember his name) who was looking for lumber trees that grew faster than the native Argentine trees. They produce an extremely hard wood and are excellent for lumber, taking a lot of wear and tear (the guide showed us the oldest house on the island, over 100 years old, which has fallen into disrepair, but still has the original wood shingles on the roof and siding on the house and still basically protects the interior.) The problem is, the trees grow so slowly that it takes 100 years before producing a tree which can be harvested for the lumber! So, they started bringing in trees from other parts of the world to see how they would grow in Argentina. Two such trees were of great interest: Oregon and Ponderosa Pines, from the Western US. In the US they grow to maturity in 40 years. Well, it turns out, in Argentina they grow to maturity in 20 years! And they grow tall and straight, excellent for lumber. So, now they use them for most of their lumber needs.

On this island though, about 15 years after the first pines were planted, it became a national park, protecting all the plants and animals. Therefore, the trees were never harvested. And these pines, not only are exotics (it was wild to hear them described as exotics!) but invasive exotics. That means, like the Australian pines imported to Florida to protect the orange groves and the kudzu imported to the southern US, they have no natural enemies and they grow like wildfire, taking over and killing the indigenous species! So the pines are now being harvested by the rangers and they are finally beginning to manage them to protect the indigenous species on the island.

The other interesting tree on the island was the Sequoia, from California. They were very interested in them and they, too, grow much faster in Argentina. They have 80 year old trees over 50 meters tall, which is how tall they grow in about 300 years in California! They are not invasive, though, because they need fires to help them propagate, and they do not have fires on the island. So the seed pods do not open up and spread the seeds, which only happen with the heat of a fire.

The other stop on the tour was the tip of a peninsula where a forest of Arrayanes Trees has developed. These are a member of the myrtle family (I assume that makes them a relative of the Crepe Myrtle) and usually only grow as bushes. But in this location the conditions were such that in their competition with other trees for survival, they won and became the dominant tree in the forest. This is the only known location in the world where that has occurred. They have a striking appearance and have created quite a fairy-land forest.

Enjoy the pictures by following these links to the Kodak Gallery Albums. This link will take you to views from the boat: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.2283bj9m&x=0&y=-xmvuwj&localeid=en_US

This link will take you to views of Isla Victoria: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.7wlzk50q&x=0&y=-qpmwto&localeid=en_US

This link will take you to views of the Arrayanes Forest: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.6i38cstm&x=0&y=d1a6ho&localeid=en_US

The Food in Argentina

2008-09-09T09:00:00.004-04:00

One of my readers asked for some more information about the food in Argentina. I have included some comments in other posts and if you want to see those, hit the label "food" at the bottom of this post and it will call up all posts with that label. As I reviewed them I realized I had not been extremely descriptive, so I will give a capsule here and try to include more info about food as I go along from this point. In a nutshell, Argentine food is heavy on meat, especially beef, but also chicken, pork and lamb, as well as venison here in Bariloche, in the mountains. (I had some venison stuffed ravioli last week in a little Italian restaurant where the owner's horse was tied up outside. I wanted to ask him if he rode the horse up into the hills to shoot the deer, but it was beyond my Spanish language skills! Anyway, the venison in such small chopped up quantity in each ravioli and covered with tomato sauce, was not really very unique, but still, very tasty.) Most of the food is very tasty!

Argentines do lousy breakfasts. They are heavy on coffee or tea and medialunas (crescent pastries) or toast. You can get yogurt or fruit or cereal, but eggs and bacon are extremely difficult to find in a restaurant (at least for breakfast, more about that later.) Also, OJ in restaurants is extremely expensive! Muy carro! The pastries are very good, and the coffee is excellent. I have yet to really have a bad cup of coffee. They do their own form of espresso, called cafe chico, or mediano, or grande (all indicate the size) and they also do cordito, capucino, americano, submarino (which is coffee with a spoonful of chocolate to stir into), and other varieties I cannot remember. (I have not seen a Starbucks here yet, though!) They don't need one, as their coffee is great.

They do a variety of things for lunch. Some eat a large meal, some eat small. They have sandwiches that look terrible: extremely thin slices of white bread in triple and quadruple layers with micro-thin slices of ham or ham crudo (sort of like prosciutto, but not really), and cheese. They are not very tasty, I had one on the bus. They do other ham and cheese sandwiches on pan de francais and other sorts of bread as well. They also do lomo sandwiches, which are either a beef or chicken tenderloin. If you get these completo they come with tomato, lettuce, ham or bacon, a fried egg, cheese, and mayonnaise. (Ketchup you have to ask for and they seem to ration it. I have never received more than 2 -3 small packets at a time when I have asked for it. Mayonnaise, however, they seem to love and I have seen them dip papas fritas, french fries, in it.) Lomo sandwiches, as you can tell, are usually HUGE and delicious. I have yet to be disappointed in one and have learned that if I order it, it will be a large meal for me. Most of their portions are really big.

For lunch or dinner, the entree is usually some sort of beef, (of course their steaks are delicious) or chicken. A common form of preparation, beyond just grilling, is milanese, which is a breaded and fried tenderloin hammered very thin. This also can come with a variety of sauces. Along with the entree they rely very heavily on potatoes, or pasta, and to some extent rice. In addition to papas fritas (french fries) they do papas puree (mashed potatoes) and other forms of potatoes that I have not tried. They also do mashed calabazzas squash which is very good. They do salads, too, but they are pretty basic, lettuce, tomato, onion for the most part with oil and vinegar to put on it. They do not have the myriad variety of dressings as the US.

Besides the original Spanish immigrants, the next largest group was Italian, and that is evident in their prolific use of pasta. Almost every restaurant has some sort of pasta dishes on the menu, usually spaghetti, ravioli, gnocchi, lasagna, and cannelloni. However, their cannelloni is usually made with a crepe more than an actual pasta noodle. They do a variety of sauces, tomato, cream, 4 cheeses, with or without meat. Sometimes the meat is chunks of roast beef, not hamburger. (Oh, you can also get hamburgers and hot dogs, but my thought is "why?").

This has become a rather long post, so I will end it for now and later in the week tell you about the pride of their menu, Asado and Parilla, which are Argentine barbecue, but nothing at all like US barbecue. I will also share a little about their postres, desserts, which I have not partaken of very much, as well as the chocolate in Bariloche! (I am still taste-testing that!)

The pictures above are of my favorite lunch cafe/bar in Buenos Aires, and you can see a bit of the food served. Then the bar in San Telmo (a barrio in Buenos Aires) where I had my first HUGE chicken lomo sandwich. Finally, the Italian Restaurant in Bariloche with the horse out front where I had my venison stuffed ravioli.

Signs my Spanish is improving

2008-09-08T10:21:00.003-04:00

The primary reason for taking my Sabbatical in Argentina was to learn the Spanish language. (It was not the primary reason for my Sabbatical. Rather, 28 years in ministry without such a break and the importance of time for renewal for my spirit, mind, and body were the primary reasons. They are the reasons any and every pastor should be taking regular sabbatical breaks during their careers.) But I could have accomplished those goals in many different ways, in many different places, with a different Sabbatical. But a secondary, important reason for this time away from the regular duties of the pastorate was to have time to immerse myself in a Spanish-speaking culture to develop the ability to communicate in Spanish.

This past weekend I had several experiences that confirm for me that I am developing that ability. First, on Friday afternoon I had walked to town after school to withdraw some money from the bank. On my way back up the hill to the house where I was staying, a group of chicas (young girls) stopped me and asked me, in Spanish, where Calle Mitre was located. I actually understood them, and I was able to tell them where it was, in Spanish. Now I realize this was not a complicated task, but it all happened so naturally, without any great struggle on my part, which is the real indicator for me of my growing ability with the language.

On Saturday, I rode the bus up the lake to Porto Panuelo and took the boat excursion on the lake that visits Isla Victoria and the Bosque Arrayanes. On the boat I met a very nice young couple from Chicago, Tom and Jennifer, who live in the River West neighborhood and were vacationing in Argentina with almost no Spanish skills at all. I was quite impressed with their adventurous spirit. I also met a very nice young family from Tigre, which is a distant suburb of Buenos Aires. (Their two daughters are pictured above trying to feed the sea gulls crackers on the boat.) I spoke with them quite a bit, all in Spanish. They overheard me telling someone I had been in Cordoba, and the wife/mother was originally from Cordoba. They also heard that I was from Florida, and they are planning to take their daughters, about 6 and 9 years old and extremely cute and precocious, to Orlando next year. I also carried on a conversation with one of the guides about the Bosque Arrayanes, all in Spanish.

Then on Sunday I had what turned into quite an adventure. It was a beautiful day again, so after relocating to my new home I set out for Colonia Suiza. This is a little hamlet in the mountains where Swiss immigrants settled over 100 years ago. There is supposed to be a city bus, line #10 run from downtown to this little town, but I never saw one of those buses this entire day. Rather than wait around in downtown for one, I started walking west on the lakeside road, figuring I could flag one down when it came along. I walked about 5 kilometers and then stopped at a bus-stop to wait for a bus. I waited about an hour and finally decided to take the next #20 bus to Cerro Campanerio, from where I figured I could walk to Colonia Suiza. I did. It turned out to be 6-7 kilometers, up and down some pretty steep hills, over some very muddy roads. I finally found the town and enjoyed a delicious late lunch of Goulash con Spetzle followed by Mousse de Chocolate con Café chico. Fue muy rico! (It was very delicious!) I then inquired with the owner of the restaurant where the bus stop was located and she directed me, but said it would be two hours before one came. So, she flagged down her parents who were just leaving to drive back to town and they gave me a ride into Centro Civico. The entire 27 kilometers we conversed in Spanish! We discussed life in Argentina, in the United States, about the church, about politics, all in Spanish. It was the greatest kindness shown to me so far in Argentina and it was a real sign I am growing in my ability with the Spanish language.

In addition, I am communicating much more freely with my hostess and with service people around town (waiters & waitresses, those who work in the little markets, the bus drivers and taxi drivers.) Compared to my almost total inability to use the language 5 weeks ago, I am truly amazed at the progress I have made.

My New Home in Bariloche

2008-09-08T09:51:00.003-04:00

I have moved! On Friday during break the Headmistress of the school needed to talk to me. She informed me it was necessary for me to move. Senora Valentina’s niece was arriving unexpectedly this weekend and needed a place to stay. So, the school had arranged a new home for me. She assured me it was a very nice place in a good location with a very nice woman, and she was right! I moved on Sunday morning to an apartment on the sixth floor of a building located two blocks from the lake and four blocks from the very heart of downtown. I have a magnificent view looking west up the lake with the town cathedral squarely center in the view. The apartment is owned by a very nice woman who is taking care of her 95 year old grandmother. I can still walk to school if the weather is nice (it is only one kilometer further and the road along the lake is actually better for walking, wider shoulders.) I don’t have to deal with the killer hill going back up to the house from downtown, which is very good since I have to visit the bank each day to draw out enough money for my apartment rental in Buenos Aires on Sunday. (You can only withdraw up to 600 pesos per transaction in Argentina. This is a federal law passed a few years ago to prevent a run on the banks. I have not tried to make more than one withdrawal per day, partly because I worry about triggering a security hold on my Visa debit card. Which probably wouldn’t happen, but I don’t want to have any problems this far from home.) This will also be a very good place for me to spend more time in quiet reflection and in study. The view helps me with this, and the fact that I cannot get on-line in this apartment. There are only secure networks sending signals in this area which means I will need to do my Internet work on battery power in some local café/restaurant which has WI-FI availability. I can work with the situation.

One of the lessons this experience of living in a foreign land and culture for 5 weeks and with four different families has taught me is the importance of flexibility and adaptability for life. I have always prided myself on being very flexible and adaptable, not requiring a lot of creature comforts to be comfortable; willing to eat almost anything; able to make most any space I inhabit feel like home. I think my experiences camping in Boy Scouts helped me develop this attitude and skill. I am sure my leaving home for college in distant Salt Lake City, Utah, far from St. Louis, Missouri helped with this ability. I became very independent pretty early in life. I know my other travel experiences have shaped this as well.

But as I have aged I worry that I will become more rigid in my needs, likes and dislikes, so that I will be less flexible and adaptable. Either this trip has proven that fear baseless, or it has been a good booster shot to restore this ability. This is an important attitude and skill, not only for traveling, but for life in general. We like to think we can control our lives, but my experience is that we really control very little. Life always throws us a curve when we least expect it and how we react and deal with those bumps along the way can seriously affect our general enjoyment of life. When we are more rigid, we are less able to go with the flow. As a result, life becomes more of a burden and less enjoyable. When we can adapt with some flexibility to whatever situations arise in our lives, then we can find the good, even in the bad, and we can continue to see the beauty and blessings in life all around us. This is not why I came on this trip, but it is a lesson I am glad to have reinforced. It is a lesson I hope I have passed on to my children.

If you wish to see more pictures of the view from my new home, follow this link to the Kodak Gallery Album: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.6rsukd7u&x=0&y=8ee63o&localeid=en_US

Amazing Views from Cerro Otto

2008-09-07T07:49:00.004-04:00

On Friday I left the house early to walk an extra kilometer past my school (4 in total, which is about 2.5 miles) so I could ride the Teleferico to the top of Cerro Otto Meiling. (Cerro in Spanish means "hill", but this "hill" was 700 meters higher than the city of Bariloche, which is about 2,100 feet.) It offers spectacular panoramic views of the area, from the entire Lago Nahuel Huapi spread out on one side with it surrounding mountains, to the mountains even higher where ski resorts are and where tons of snow was sitting on the other. The snow on top of the "hill" was about 3-4 feet deep. There is a revolving restaurant, along with small souvenir stands, snack stands, and several places to take in the view. There is even a most unique art gallery, dedicated to Michelangelo. It houses replicas of three of his most famous statues: David, the Pieta, and Moses, in full-size replication! In a very small room in which it is most difficult to get a picture of David! It also contains about 25 pictures of other works of art by Michelangelo, such as photos of the Sistine chapel, etc. Why this art museum is housed at the top of this hill I have no idea. But it was interesting.

There are also several winter activity options at the top of the hill, such as sliding down a packed down area sort of like a luge. They rent you these little plastic sled seats that look like they were made by Tyco (I think that is the huge plastic toy manufacturer in the States) and you sit on this and slide! There were two tour buses of older teens visiting and that was their main focus.

Anyway, the views were spectacular. I spent about two hours just drinking them in. There are amazing places all over the world and whenever I visit them I continue to stand in awe of the creative power of God in fashioning this marvelous world. It is a shame more people are not able to travel and witness the amazing glory of the earth. I am totally baffled that so many of those people who hold power and who actually make the decisions that are affecting our world in terms of energy policy, conservation policy, recycling policy, etc., are people of means who do travel widely. This earth is such a treasure, such a precious jewel, and we continue to be so arrogant, or so petulant, to think that the lifestyles of 6 billion people are not affecting the climate, the ecology, the environment that is necessary not only for our own survival, but for the survival of all the other living creatures with which we share the planet. I know the earth is an amazingly resilient ecosystem, and I am convinced that until the sun explodes or dies that the earth will survive, but we may not survive and the majority of the species that have evolved to date may not survive, unless we change our practices and lifestyles.

Enough preaching, if you wish to see more of the stunning views from Cerro Otto, follow this link to the Kodak Gallery albums: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.2yr3x4yy&x=0&y=7jwxdv&localeid=en_US