My Friends . . .

   Several of my friends came to visit me in the last months.   They are each great people because they are unique and because they all really want to make a mark on the world; to give to those around them.  First of all, I will recognize Beatrice, Lois, and Janelle.  They are my friends from Faith Builders, and they came here to see me.  I know that sounds conceited, but it is partly true.  They play off each other in the humor that they create.  Sometimes they can’t even stop laughing at the jokes they share.  Seems like that is why they never slept the night before they left:) They made themselves very wonderful guests by they pitching in and working on whatever was going each day.  They even made us a scrumptious Mexican meal. Next comes Kendall, the guy, he is the one who I really felt like I got to know much better this time than I ever have.  We had some really great conversation about commitment in marriage and in singlehood (0f course he is dating so this is a very relevant subject:)), about music, and about some other important and goofy things as well.  He helped the guys dig the footers for the house and then to wire up rebar for the footer itself.  I really enjoyed having him here.  (The picture here is of Kendall with his turban on after we were walking around Krakow late at night during our Krakow-Auschwitz trip). Thank you for coming to visit!

Now my friend, LeRoy, from my home community of Gap Mills WVa is here for two months to help work on the house for John and Laura.  He has been really fun to get to know again; a real man of God and principle.  I have also loved to watch him jive with the Polish culture.  The first week he was here he started making it his business to explore the town and systematically lose himself in his “free time”.  He has this ancient old cruiser of a bicycle that he trundles around town on.  Building a basic Polish vocabulary for himself has not seemed to be too much of a problem even though he communicates by acting when he wants to buy something.  A great phrase that he and his boss learned and use effectively during building is: “Mam prace dla ciebie!” (I have work for you!)  LeRoy and I went on a jaunt down to Prague the other day when we were waiting on materials.  We had a great time snooping around the city and seeing many of the ancient architectural wonders.  One of LeRoy’s favorite places was the orchard on the hillside below the Strahov Monastery.  We ate supper there one night and laughed hysterically watching a man throw sticks into one of the trees trying to knock out a few green pears, only to knock down a bunch of leaves and nearly “bop” himself on the head with the stick.  

About my last Month

          There is nothing so sure in our world as the passing of time.  I have a bent towards believing this statement because a lot of things have been happening for me recently and yet I have not had the time or energy to write of them or to process everything.  The end of June was really an amazing time for me because a couple whom I teach with at Studium Szkola Jezykow invited me to spend a few days with them at their cabin near Kutno, which is west of Warszawa.  They were really wonderful hosts and I actually got to practice my Polish more as well as to develop a deeper friendship with my co-teachers.  As I was traveling meet them, our train hit a man who was trying to commit suicide.  It was the strangest feeling to think that the train I was riding on killed a man.  It all happened so fast.  The engineer blew the whistle.  The train came to a sudden stop; so sudden that smoke came rolling up from the brakes in a putrid smog!  We must have sat there for an hour until the conductor came through and told us about the young man’s decision.  I say “decision” because it was his decision to some degree even though I am not sure how responsible he was. Even though I am not sure how someone could decide to throw themselves in front of a moving train to end their life.  There must have been terrible desperation in his life! I am thinking about it.  Well, with this experience still on my mind I started my vacation with my friends.  They have a little cabin bordering a pine forest on one side and a small lake on the other.  We spent our days talking about small things, talking about truth and about God, taking walks together, playing with their big German shepherd, and swimming together.  I really feel blessed because our time together bonded us with more than just “happens” in teaching together at school.  I feel blessed because they invited me to spend time with them on their vacation.

Now, something very special happened just after I got back from vacation.  Lukasz and Magda, two of my very good friends ( Lukasz is my bother in Christ), were married.  I got the privilege along with the rest of the team to sing for their wedding.  It was really a powerful ceremony in which the priest talked about what really makes a strong home; the rock of Jesus Christ.  I ask God to bless their marriage and to give them a deeper desire to know Him; to know truth.  I have really enjoyed hearing Lukasz introduce Magda to me like this: I say, “Lukasz, tell me, who is this person you are with?” “Robin, this is my new WIFE Magda. “  Lukasz’ face splits into a grin from ear to ear.  I love it.  God is really working.                                                                                                                                               

I also got the privilege of teaching a kids’ intensive English class this spring. It was really a learning experience for me.  It was difficult to get the kids to talk in class sometimes.  They wanted to listen to a lecture instead, but that really in not a very effective way of teaching concepts; more of the student must be engaged. Cor and I taught two twelve year old guys.  One day when while learning about transportation, we put together some Dollar General models of planes and ships for the guys to take home.  We talked about traveling with these kinds of transportation. I think that they enjoyed it although we used Gorilla glue to cement the models together.  I had not realized that Gorilla glue takes at least a half an hour to set up; therefore, getting pieces to stay in place while the glue was drying posed a real trial:(

During all of the kids intensives, my friend Arlyn was here visiting me.  That was absolutely great to have him here, although I felt that I could not spend as much time with him as I would have liked to.  He and I went to Majdanek ( a large concentration camp near Lublin) and Kazimierz Dolny (a small resort town on the banks of the Wisla River).  Really a perfect day trip and we even got to climb together into the belfry of a large Catholic Cathedral.  That was really fun and nerve racking for me at the same time, partially because we went up their without any direct permission and also because it looked as though no one had been up there since the fifteen hundreds (moj zart; my joke)! 

I also really appreciate Arlyn coming because he gave me encouragement that only a man can give; especially one who I went to school with.  He really helped me to see some areas in my life where I need to focus more energy and to allow Jesus to give to me.  I really value his friendship.  Thanks, Arlyn.

To be

      I am sitting at a clean desk for the first time in ages.  For a long time, this desk was covered to about navel height in papers.  I guess that I am feeling very eastern European right now because I am listening to Russian monastery music right now.  Really, I hate the lead guy’s voice right now, but in general I love the mood of the music.  Pardon me, it is not the Russian bass that I was ranting about before.  But they have the same surreal, worshipful sort of effect on my soul.  So somber and yet so supple in its texture.

I look around at this room and realize that it is not super becoming.  In fact, I think that I have lost some interior decorating design skills.  I have whitewashed walls in my room speckled with the remnant mosquito carcasses from last year.  I have a huge American flag over my bed and covering the top of my nightstand is a holly Christmas dresser scarf.  Hah, hah.  Talk about remnant.  The mosquito carcasses are more “in style” these days!   I do like Les and my room.  It is pure guy stuff and guy stuff goes on in here too.  We have a coffee pot that starts perculating late at night.  It really does have this natural “bent” towards doing so.  Of course, Les has this terrible coffee that has a smak (Flavor) resembling that of silage.  It makes Maxwell House look heavenly.  Although, in all honesty, I think that we are now drinking a really tastefully suitable coffee, Jacobs coffee.  I made absolutely no reference to its effect on Les’ stipend in that last sentence.  The other night I hauled the blender down to our room and tried to crush up ice and mix it with cold coffee for the true iced coffee effect.  However, crushing the ice in the blender made such an ungodly racket that I broke into a nervous sweat for fear of waking the whole household.  The coffee was tolerable but disappointing in comparison to my dream when I lugged the blender, ice cube trays, and mugs down here.  I have had better success with fruit smoothies.

Stolowa Wola

     This past weekend, Lukasz, his girlfriend’s cousin, Les, and I went to a small city on the south side of Lublin for a short vacation.  There were no mountains that I was hoping to see but the landscape was very beautiful and the atmosphere was really quiet.  It reminded me alot of my home in the WV hills and mountains.  Really mountains add alot to an atmosphere of peace for me because they create a wall to “hem” me away from things that want to press in.  Think about the verse that talks about God trapping and protecting us from the front and behind.  Where do we have to turn?  We can only wait and look up.  To look up to the heavens is both a response of willingness to know what God is thinking and it is also the place that it dawns on us how protected we are in the sheer vastness of life.  But, as I move on, our little quad headed into the back country to celebrate the fall of one era that is giving way to a new era in Lukasz’s life.  He is to be married at the end of this month, June 30th.  God bless you Lukasz, I think you are crazy like every man must be to want to get married and to settle down with the love of your life.  May God teach you in his love and with his hand, may he guide you into true hope and the knowledge of his presence.  Our first evening was spent mostly eating koczolek (a mixture of vegetables; cabbage, potatoes, carrots, onions, garlic, and pork cooked in a Polish Dutch oven) and being lazy around the fire.  It was really fun.  The next  morning we got up early and went rafting down the nearby San River.  We did over forty kilometers and got thoroughly roasted by the sun to top it off.  There were some moments of sheer abandon when we (Les and I) went charging down the sand and plowed into the water sending sheets high into the air.  The water fights were great too;  “Give it to ‘um.” “Bring it on!”  That evening we played a hard round of soccer which the eight year-old twins of our hosts really enjoyed.  It was the time where a permanent bond between the boys and the big boys developed:)  Centering around a game that to them (the twins) touched heaven and for at least Lukasz and Tomek was a rejuvenator of the love of their lives.  I know that I am a sorry American who really stinks at soccer, and it makes me mad!   The next morning however, we were not so energetic, having been well toasted the day before we bathed our sunburn and layed around until early afternoon.  Les and I gave the little guys a couple of English lessons.  They seemed to really enjoy it in spite of the warm day and the difficulty of wrapping their minds and lips around English syllable and sentence structures for a hour at a time.  Good little students!

So, today I am still bearing effects of the sunburn.  My back is peeling.  I went jogging last night for about six kilometers and when I returned I had all these little pockets of sweat under my top layer of skin and my back was itchy.  When I itched it, big pieces of skin rubbed off.  I am learning about sun.  I was only burned once before.

The Sound of Silence

 The Sound of Silence

 

Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence.

Fools said I, you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you.
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the sign said, the words of the prophets

Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whispered in the sounds of silence.

 

      I was blessed with a really fun experience last Sunday, and that was being on the jury of a music competition hosted every year by my school, Studium Szkola Jenzykowa (Studium School of Languages).  This competition allows students to learn songs from the language and also any other dramatic performance along with that and perform it before an audience.  It was really fun to see some of “my” students perform and to listen to/ see the rendition of the songs they had learned.  Many of the songs were fairly meaningless pop songs and the younger ones had learned kiddie songs but to watch each person interpret their song was fantastic.  I feel like I can learn so much from their body language about what they think about the song, how much they understood the lyrics of what they were singing, and how much they have been coerced into a “style” of performing or not.  I find certain styles of voice modulating and breathiness in the singing to be pretty distasteful.  It is a learned performance habit and it is not genuine at all.  One particular performer almost sent me into an hysterical bout with laughter because their voice sounded identical to someone speaking on high-dubbing.  You know.  The kind that sounds like a really excited version of the Chipmunks, where all the words shimmer in their fevered-pitch and the voice is projected with more of an electronic than human vocal sound. But this particular voice was really “sighing/ breathy” too and so it made for a really hilarious combination in my opinion.  It was not the performers fault though.  I think that they were probably taught to sing that way.  I especially enjoyed handing out the awards to the winners in the children’s category.  One of the little girls, who actually had won first place, sat near the front of the auditorium and kept smacking her little fist into the palm of her hand.  I think that she knew she had done a good job or at least her best, and she looked up with pleading eyes that just begged to be chosen.  She must have been six or seven.  Her anticipation had to wade through the grueling moments as the second and third place winners were announced in her category.  I thought she would crumple under the excruciating tension.  But, joy of joys, her name was announced and she was up onto the stage in a few hops.  When I handed her the award, she looked up into my eyes and said: “Thank you, sir” in perfect English.  It was beautiful.

     One of the songs that was sang did really impress me alot.  The “Sound of Silence”.  The girl who sang it really powerfully interpreted its meaning through her style.  When Paul Simon wrote that song, I am not sure that he knew the power in the words that he had used to craft it, but it has spoken to me.  I think that many people may wonder what this song means.  I wonder also, but I think that it speaks very deeply to the human problem of communication; the lack of communication.  The lack of love. The song talks about neon lights stabbing the sound of silence.  It says ” People writing songs that voices never share and no one dare
disturb the sound of silence.”  Silence is something that grows like a cancer and even when there is a shout of desperation to know and to have relationship, it is lost in the sound of silence.  So, we can follow the progression from the idea of silence reigning to some difference, a startling difference, being made through the eerie glow of a neon sign.  This is an attempt to communicate through written words only.  But then, songs are written.  Songs that communicate words and ideas, but they are never sung by voices because people are afraid/ bound by silence. Silence becomes personified.  We do not want to “mess” with silence because it might become angry that it is crossed.  The songs moves on and says that “people bow before the neon God’s they’ve made”.  That is interesting to me because I know that the written word is the safest and easiest way to “communicate” something to someone.  I am doing it right now.  However, if it is used for the simple fact of protecting silence and for procrastinating on communicating, it is only causing the silence to grow like a cancer.  To divide relationships.  Thank you.

I will Highlight some things

    I have been very happily busy these days.  Since I wrote about Basso Profundo, I had my oldest sister Caia come and visit me here in Poland!  I think about our time together, and I feel deeply grateful that I was able to see my sister again and spend time with her face to face again. It was a experience for us both.  I think that not having seen my family for a long time gave me the feeling that sometime I would entirely forget what it was like to live in the US.  Those thoughts come with such intensity that you can recognize their edge of irrationality; however, it does make a man wonder sometimes.

Caia and I took a very special trip to the great city of Praga (Prague) in the Czech Republic the first week that she was here.  I must say that experience will probably be a “once in a lifetime” from an architectural standpoint and because I was spending the time with my sister.  I have always immortalized Prague in my mind because it is actually the city of some of my roots.  Now, the city is also a symbol in my mind of the great beginnings of the Reformation with Jan Hus and his “ground-shaking” ideas in the University of Prague.  He is really a man worth reading about because he had his mind set on truth which he eventually was martyred for.   The city itself was really amazing because it is so old that there is about every style of architecture, from Romanesque to Art Neuvo, represented throughout.  Some of the most enjoyable times for me were: climbing up the tower into the tower of the Church of Our Mother Mary and looking far out across the expanse of the city with all its terra-cotta roofs and feeling the breeze cool my brow; sitting on the terraces below the tenth century Strahov monastery and talking; taking in the orchards on the steep slope below, the people walking;  sitting in nice little cafes with Caia, talking and eating traditional Czech food.  If anyone ever goes to Prague, you need to try Swczkowa (roast beef in a sweet and sour cream sauce, garnish with cranberry sauce and whipped cream) served with knedlyki (seasoned bread dumplings, sliced for dipping in the gravy).  The Czechs are also very well known for their beer.  The Czech Republic is a huge consumer of beer, and they have been making it for the last thousand years at least.  Pilsner Urqell and true Budwar (Budweiser) are natives of the Czech Republic.  The city is full of amazing music with classical concerts every night.  Caia and I had a choice of about twenty or so different concerts to go to on Saturday night which was the evening we wanted to do so.  It was sort of a shame because we went to an amazing symphonieta concert in the St Nicholas Church on the Old Town Square, but it happened to be the same evening that a rock band was performing in lieu of the city’s annual marathon.  So, most of the concert was a colossal battle battle between musical genres from opposite ends of the spectrum. Dvorak and Madonna.  Which shall it be?  We spent three days in Prague together.

Caia and I also went to the concentration camp, Majdanek, in south central Poland.  It was a balmy if not nearly hot day, offsetting the sheer horror of what went on in that camp.  In my opinion, the best day to visit camps like these is one in the middle of February.  Cold, wet, bleak; with snow falling and the wind whipping through the buildings.  Any other weather is much too nice, giving you a false impression of the place.  I was particularly impressed by the camp at Majdanek because it is only about three kilometers outside of the the city of Lublin.  It is strange because almost all the other camps are somewhat removed from civilization.  I assume to create a distance barrier from anyone opposed to what was going on if nothing else.  For instance, the camp at Treblinka was so remote that Les and I could barely find it when we rode there last winter.  Hitler was planning for the camp at Majdanek to become the largest concentration area in the Nazi empire.  The original plans were for it to be nearly three hundred hectares in size.  Absolutely massive!  Like six hundred acres.  Only about a third of that was actually developed.

Our little church group had a retreat this past weekend.  We focused on the subject of prayer.  Talking about what prayer is and praying together as a group.  Learning and practicing different types of prayer.  I guess the two things that are really rooted in my mind about prayer is one:  prayer is spending time with God and He really wants us to do that; to spend time in His presence, with Him and two: prayer is a gift of worship that we have.  There is alot of freedom in the way that it can be done, but the beauty and power remains in praying and in every situation obeying what God calls from us.  It was a really good time of resting and having time to meditate and pray.  I am really encouraged to spend more time with God.  That is my prayer.

I cried when my sister left.  It was hard to see her go.

Basso Profondo

Profound Bass. Indeed, I am really absorbed by this group from a monastery north of St Petersburg Russia. They are directed by Georgy Smirnov. “The choir emerges like the breath of God and rolls on in a vibrant acoustic that’s perfectly suited to the voices, which resonate as much in the solar plexus as in the ear.” I have never listened to a group that has such a commanding bass presence. In fact, I think that Boris, Viktor, and Yuri must be some of the only basses who have the ability to reach notes in those octaves and sound so good, unamplified. These are the names of the three basses who sing together on this recording.

I am carried away to other lands, other, times by the haunting Orthodox songs and Slavic folk melodies. I realize though that the men who are singing these songs are not removed from this world. They live within a Russian “world” in my time, surrounded by all the ancient traditions of the Orthodox church and by the deep commitment that they have made to a life of celibacy. They are monks. When I think about monks and I hear these men sing the liturgical songs, I cannot help but compare my life to theirs and consider what their existence must be like; as far as my imagination allows me to. They are men whom I really admire. Men of God. When I read what Paul says in I Corinthians 7:32 -34: “The unmarried man is anxious about the things of the Lord, how to please the Lord. But the married man is anxious about worldly things, how to please his wife, and his interests are divided.” I am impressed by the way that these men have “reserved” themselves for the sake of God’s service. I know that monasticism developed out of a mixture of things: desire to be in communion with God, the desire to earn a right standing before God by living in a “more right” way, and the desire to separate one’s self from all the things that are “worldly”/ physical and would draw us away from God; gnosticism. But despite the reasons in history for which monasticism arose, think with me for a while what the lives of these men must be like. This is my imagination. They live within cold, stone buildings in the northwestern part of Russia. An area of the world known for its high consumption of vodka, due to the bitter winters and addiction. Most recently the home of thousands, who will die from acute liver disease from tainted vodka sold on the black market. These monks live have committed their lives to the furtherance of the Kingdom of God. This is something that should motivate us all; their commitment to the call of God to all men. But I am a male too, and I can feel this amazing power that grips me and makes me want to follow in their steps. Some of the richness that a life like this must hold. Yet with that, I feel this huge sense of loneliness. It would be really lonely living in a monastery in northern Russia. It would be a really big commitment to make me let go of other possibilities. So, what I imagine is that their lifestyle calls these men to many hours of being before God and pouring out their hearts to him. Telling him of their need of him in their state of day to day living. Singing songs of worship and also of searching/ asking God to be with them. Also, the awareness of the state of the church; the flock. They must sing, I believe. The way they can express it all.  I am thinking.  I may write more.

My sister revives the lambs

This is a picture of my sister, Hannah, reviving some chilled and forelorn little lambs in the sink.  I think that she is beautiful and that what she is doing is really powerful; nourishing life.  Probably part of the profound impact that it has on me is because Hannah is my sister and I am glad to see her doing this.  I  see how all of her attention is focused on taking care of them and seeing them “pull through”.   It does my heart good to see sacrifice of time and the gift of love being lavished on something so helpless as a lamb.  Thank you, Hannah.

Tea -Black, Earl Grey

Withdrawing from Earl Grey
by Connie Regier

I’ve deprived myself of You
for over a month – I know it’s Zen
to have total mastery over cravings but
when I hold this potter’s mug in my hand
the delightful depth of you is missing
that smooth warm warm tingling in my palm, gone
the aroma of your blended fragrance no more
clear excursions
into amber darkness Oh, my mysterious opium
that total fix that keeps me lurching
through bleak mornings
I need you!

-I dedicate this to Papa.

Several Weeks

You know that despite the silence in “the nest”, a lot has been going on in these last couple/ several weeks.  We have been arranging things for the summer classes which will include both adult and children’s intensive classes for several weeks.  We have only been doing these kind of classes for a year at Gateway to English, so the whole undertaking is new and requires agressive planning and brainstorming.  Another part of our school life here is the monthly English night that has been limping towards greater acclaim and recognition.  This is a free, evening activity and discussion time that we offer once a month to students.  It gives them a chance to interact in English although the environment is not strictly a “classroom setting”.  This leaves room for more spontaneity, which usually develops into communication in Polish instead of English;)  But hey, it is not easy to be a really brave person and make a million mistakes in front of a “panel” of English teachers.  I think that students are a little reticent to come because of this, but the last couple of meetings have really been an improvement.  The group of Polish people is on the rise. We actually got some good feedback from the students saying that the experience and environment was “what we need” “the bomb” “Great”!  Those words are really encouraging for me, as a teacher, to hear.

Atlas, Racheal, Nathaniel, Shannon, and JoElla came over here to Poland for a surprise visit!  Les and I were wicked and found out about their plans about seven hours before they landed in Warszawa.  I must admit that we felt very smug; just a bit like I imagine Sir Aurthur Conan Doyle felt.  The mystery has been solved.  So, Les and I left for the airport at about six-thirty in the morning and our best guess paid off.  We met them at the terminal around 9:45.   It was so strange to meet them and to think about them planning the trip for so long, and we never knew about it!  Little rats:)  But I sure was happy to see them.