Today, for example, began at 6 a.m. on the beach. Florian, Benjamin, Katrina, and I all woke up early this morning to go running on the beach. I was pretty impressed that we all actually got up and drove there so early, but we did. And this was one of the best mornings I've had in such a long time. Just as the sun was rising over the horizon, we arrived on the beach. Running in the sand on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea on a cool summer morning is absolutely blissful. We ran at a pretty comfortable pace, but running in the sand is so much harder because your feet are sinking with every step, and that creates a lot of resistance on your legs. By the end of our run, I was definitely huffing and puffing pretty hard. However, there just so happened to be a very convenient place to cool off nearby--the ocean. Of course, we weren't wearing swimsuits or anything, so we just took off our shoes, and waded into the cold water. At the time, the water felt SO cold, but once we were in for a little bit, our bodies felt very refreshed. Sandy, wet, and happy, we drove home.
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| The beautiful beach |
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| My running buddy, Katrina |
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| The before shot |
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| The after shot |
After I got a shower and cleaned up, I took a little stroll to the grocery store. We wanted to invite the LST interns over for dinner tonight, and I was in charge of making dessert. I got the ingredients to make an apple pie, and after I left the store, I headed to the boulongerie (bakery). I bought a fresh baguette to eat for breakfast, and I put Nutella and cheese on it when I got back home with it. After breakfast, I started making the pie because this was the only time I had free before tonight. I peeled apples for nearly an hour, but soon the pie was finished cooking. It smelled delicious, but I wouldn't get to try it until much later in the evening.
As soon as I took the pie out of the oven, I went to meet our group at the church. We walked over to the university here in town for English speaking class. A few people go every week to talk to people in a certain class who are there to improve their English. It's mostly professors at the university or researchers who take the class, and everyone's language skills are pretty advanced. Our job as native English speakers is just to have conversations with them, which allows them to get practice speaking and ask questions. Today, I found out about an opportunity to take French classes at the language school that is run by other missionaries in town, so I'm looking into that as an option to help me improve my French, a skill I'm very much in need of for the stuf I'm doing at the church.
After the school, I needed to go back to the store where I could get a copy of our apartment key made, since it was closed that first time. When I was walking there, I had a pretty strange, profound experience. I was in a hurry to get to the shop before it closed, so when I saw a woman begging on the side of the street, I crossed to the other side because I didn't have time to stop and give her anything. And then I realized, I just crossed to the other side of the street--exactly what the bad priest and Levite do in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. When I realized that, I was so ashamed, and I decided that on my way back, when I passed her again, I would give her some money. After I got my key and was walking back, I got a few euro coins out to give her. When I got up close to her, I saw that she was dressed from head to toe in black with just her eyes showing through a small slit in her head covering. I think she was an old, widowed Muslim woman. When I put the coins in her hand, she said with so much enthusiasm, "Merici, mademoiselle! Merci! Merci! Merci!" I smiled and walked away, but then as I was walking back home, I kept thinking about the story, and I thought, "The Good Samaritan doesn't just do a minimal amount to help the person in need. In the story, he goes above and beyond to make sure that the other person is taken care of. And, Katie, you've read Half the Sky, so you know better than that. Women all over the world have it so hard (way harder than you do), and you're not doing your part to make that better. Right now, you're just the Satisfactory Samaritan." So I turned around and walked half a block back to where the woman was sitting, and basically emptied my wallet for her. She looked so surprised to see me back there, and when I was giving her the money, she took my hand in hers, kissed it and said to thankfully, "Ma belle, ma belle! Merci, mademoiselle! Merci!" Although the amount I gave her hardly dents my funds in the long run, I could tell that it meant a lot to her.
This was such a new experience for me. I don't usually have such mental anguish and conflict, but I guess all those Sunday school lessons about the Good Samaritan finally got to me in a deep way. I'm still far from being a really good Samaritan and humanitarian, but I just couldn't live with being the kind of person who literally crossed the street to avoid helping someone.
When I got back to the church, we had another rehearsal for the musical, followed by a devo. We sang a few songs in French, read a passage from the Bible, and prayed. Then all the LST interns came over to our apartment for dinner, which turned out great. We made stromboli, and the pie was delicious, if I do say so myself. It really did turn out great though, and with creme brulee ice cream on top of the warm pie, we all very much indulged ourselves.
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