It's Going to Take Time



View from my window.

Hello Readers! Long time no see.
Grab a cup of coffee, this blog is going to be long. This last Tuesday I was in Berlin, which is why I didn't get to write. This week and a half was jam packed full so sit down, and enjoy it with me! The blog has pictures and an explanation will be given beneath or above.



Okay, here's a picture with a story. But first to clarify, that's my Class Teacher Frau Ortmann. Frau means Mrs. in German, so Mrs.Ortmann. Starting from the fifth grade I believe, each grade is seperated into three groups. Each group has  a 'Homeroom Teacher' that they can go to for problems or help until the year they graduate. When they go on field trips, the 'Class Teacher' is responsible for the students and the students know they always have someone in the school to talk with. I like that about the German school system. Another point, in the German school, you always have your main classes German, English, Math, and History with the same people. This creates a group of kids that you hang out with and can also count on. It's different than in the US where every class has different students.

Now the story, first you may be asking yourself why my school has banners hanging with grafitti and a band setup in the background. Every year the Senior Class has to organize workshops or an event that would inforce their 'A School of Courage, Against Racisim' motto. This year they had multiple people from the German Parliament and other social help orginizations. Students could sign up for the workshop they wanted to attend such as 'Can Israel be Cool?' or watch a play and have a discussion afterwards. It's one of the biggest days for seniors, except for their exams. This was on a Thursday. On Monday, Nadine, one of my friends in the senior class called me to ask if I could do her a favor and show a little presentation about the USA. I gladly agreed. Wednesday rolled around and as we were sitting on the bus she asked me if my project was done. I looked at her a little confused and titled my head back to look at her with suspicous eyes.

 'Done?' I said. 'I have until next week..?'.

'Nope, this Thursday.' she said as she waved and I got off at my bus stop.

I have done four or five presentations since I've been here and I do it gladly. I will normally bake something so my audience has something to munch on. So I looked up a turtle brownie recipe and began to melt the caramel. It took me three or four hours to sift through pictures in Facebook so I could show my home highschool. I made a twenty slide Powerpoint about my school, church, family, and me then picked out some slightly dressy clothes and went to bed. I was running kind of slow the next morning, my eyes were strained from staring at the computer screen so long the day before. My sister ran past my room to catch the bus and I grabbed a pair of shoes. As I got to school, I thanked God I grabbed heels. The front of the school was hung with banners and there were parking people directing the traffic of parents and people from our town. Before I could even get to the door, Nadine ran to my side and asked if I had everything ready. She brought me to a room to drop my backpack off, and then we flew up the four staircases to room 410 where my students were waiting. I opened the door. Forty-five seventh graders were all seated and staring at me. Simply by being looked at with ninety eyeballs I turned lobster red. I laughed and asked her if I was being punked.

'No you're not being punked. They are going to be split into three groups, three of fifteen. You will have one group for one hour and fifteen minutes then the next group will come. Try to be done around noon.'

I looked at my watch, 7:40. I still had to print something. I wouldn't say I was stressed, but as I walked through the hallways to the printing room, people were running by me. Running up the stairs, down the stairs, out the door, back inside, dropping boxes off and picking them back up. The franticness (is that a word?) began to rub off on me as Nadine found me and rushed me back to the room where my students were waiting. The first two groups went by really quickly, the kids were intrigued and asked questions. Did I mention I'm a ham? The last group was a little restless, but what can you expect after three hours of hearing different presentations?

It was noon and I had a headache. I opened the door and went into the foyer where music was litterally BLASTING. Think NFL Superbowl. I shut the door and pressed my fingers to my forehead. I took a deep breath, went out and found a place next to my friends. I kind of fell asleep with my eyes open while the hour long 'thank you' speech was given. I was almost in La-La land until I heard my name called. Lobster red again. The school and guests turned to where I was sitting on the balcony. I looked to the stage where my senior friend Jesse was holding flowers. I quickly ran downstairs and onto the stage, smiled, and waved while the audience clapped. They called out the next group. Flowers! As horrifying as the day was at first, I now had flowers. (See picture below.) The day was simple insanity, but I have learned not to let the situation affect my calmness. Praise God. 

In front of my school with flowers and my history teacher,
 Frau Obermeit.



The day after was Friday, Ivan's 18th birthday. We celebrated at his host moms house. He is from Colombia and is also going to our highschool. It was a suprise birthday which is why you can see me saying 'shhhh!'. I made him a brownie cake and wrote 'Happy Birthday Ivan!' on the top. From left to right; Tatiana from South America, Chiara, Me, Claudia, then an exchange student from Turkey (can't spell his name!) a host mom with her child, and way to the right is Paco (his nickname) also from South America. It was really, really hard to keep us all quiet!

We celebrated into the night with snacks, music, and pizza. While everyone was dancing I looked for someone to converse with. He was the boyfriend of my friend Kerstin, and he had just gotten back from Africa. I was fully intrigued, and he was fully passionate to answer all of my questions. The part in Africa that he went to was very poor. He expected that the family dynamics would be stronger than in Germany. He figured when they didn't have money, they would realize that family is more important quicker. But that wasn't the reality, the people would rather have a cellphone than shoes. He was the only white person in the village, and was asked everyday for money from the people. He said 'Their concept of money is totally different than ours. Because I was white they asked me for it, without thinking that they would have to work. It was all about the money for them.' Here is a picture of all of us at the dinner table. The conversation left me with a lot to think about. But I never had time to really think, because on Monday I was leaving for the class trip to Berlin.

Berlin was intense. The history is dark and I dare to say that the reality is sometimes too. The wall was built in 1961 and stayed for twenty-eight years until 1989. We had a city tour and also a tour of the Secret Police Jail center. Our tour guide was an inmate for eight days, he greeted us by saying that 'The freedom and liberty that you have now was given to you, it is a gift. My generation fought, and many died for it.' The three hour tour only got more heavy as the time passed and we walked through the cells. The picture below is of my left foot in East Germany, and my right foot in West Germany. The wall in West Germany was filled with grafitti and many people planted gardens directly to the side of it. Whereas in the East there was a hundred foot perimeter that was called the 'dead mans zone' where one would be shot immedeatly if trespassed. The wall was about a foot and a half thick.

Here is a picture of the Berlin Fernsehturm. It is a large tower that was the glory of East Germany during the time of their separation from West Germany. For many years it would be the tallest building in the world. Millions of East German dollars would be spent building this tower. At the same time many churches were demolished. A church was almost always the biggest building in a German village. A tour guide during my tour of Berlin last summer said that the government wanted to show that they had the most control, and that they had the most power. That is why they built this monument. To their surprise after the tower was done being laborously built, they saw that everytime when the sun began to shine..that a perfect cross would form on the reflecting plates. They tried many methods like differenet glass, or painting the glass over but everyday at around noon the large cross would reflect over the capital of Germany. What they thought would be their glory...turned to be God's. You can't see it in this picture because it wasn't sunny or noon, it would reflect on the ball part at the very top. Its made out of glass.

The second day in Berlin we went to see a musical in Potsdamer Platz. The play was about a girl who was seperated from her love because of the Wall. The play lasted about three hours, but was totally intriguing. Some of it was true, but some parts had to be fiction (like her brother floating over the wall with a balloon) so the audience would stay intrigued.

This picture doesn't really have a story, I asked a couple students from the 10th class to make some goofy faces with me. I am in the eleventh grade, but was invited to go to Berlin with the class beneath me. My school is really good with providing me with opportunities like that.

Here is our tour guide and some school mates in the newly built church monument. It was in honor of a church built in the early 1900's that was demolished in order to create room for the Wall.

Picture from the top of the German Parliment building. There always seems to be cranes and reconstruction going on in Berlin.

Germany has a very different style of art than the US. Almost all of the apartment complexes are painted with random pictures...like this astronaut.

And finally, we have a picture of donuts. I wondered when I was with my friends why they were beyond excited to go to Dunkin' Donuts. I would always stay outside when they went inside to order their drinks. I'm a Starbucks person, DD is not for coffee lovers but for milk and sugar lovers. If you want coffee, go to Starbucks. But this time I went inside, and LOOK! No wonder why. These donuts were insane. DD is an American owned company and we don't have these, but internationally they sell totally different products.

From left to right; Me, Chiara and Claudia. I have mentioned them in previous articles but rarely included a picture. Last week it was 65°F and sunny. I got a picture before we went roller-blading by the Elbe River that runs through our town. Just to clarify again real quick, Chiara comes from Neapel, Italy and Claudia comes from Slovakia. They are both exchange students with AFS, we are all staying until July 6th. I am so blessed to have exchange students nearby that I can share funny stories that only an exchange student would understand.

I am so blessed. Thank you for reading, and I hope your cup of coffee was a good one!

God Bless you today! Genevieve

The Flag of Forever

Hey folks, sorry for the delay our internet was down!

Path leading to East Sea, Rügen

This blog post would take a week to write if I were to tell every funny story. I can’t believe it has only been nine days since I last sat here at my computer. I can’t believe where the strength of my legs have brought me. In a very, very small nutshell of my last week I went to the Sport Hotel in Rügen for two days with my family, spent three days in Berlin with friends, and three days at my grandparents with Nadia. This nutshell is absolutely microscopic in comparison to everything that I did. If I were to hold this nut in my hand, it would fall between the small crevices of my palm. My mind is still spinning from living at a fast forward pace for a week. It feels like I would need two weeks just sitting in a chair staring out the window to balance my focus. I’m going to tell you the funniest story from the bundle, and also give you some liberty to decide what I write in the next blog. Here are the titles of five stories you can choose from, let me know in a comment at the end of this blog which one you want to read!

1.       How do we get home from here?

2.       Squash is not that easy after rock climbing.

3.       The Grandmas aren’t so nice.

4.       Just give me my coffee.

5.       Don’t eat the seahorse!

Taken from the Rügen Boardwalk, oceanside

Mix of modern and classic houses on the island Rügen

Modern windows and classic streetlamp, Rügen

My favorite story from last week takes place in Berlin. I’m with Claudia, my fellow AFS friend from Italy, standing in front of a Starbucks across from the Brandenburg Gate (informational link). It’s three degrees Fahrenheit and I feel like a chilly potato. The wind finds its way through every poorly sown seam in my jacket. I turn to push my way into the crowded Starbucks when I notice out of the corner of my eye an American flag. The Brandenburg Gate is to the right of the American Embassy, but the man holding Americas flag was dressed with soldiers clothing. I tugged Claudia’s jacket and we walked in his direction.

In front of the Brandenburg Gate, Berlin
Last time I was here was with my school
exchange last summer!

He was standing on a small podium that said ‘Welcome to Berlin’ and waving with not only an American flag, but a Turkish one too. ‘Hmmm’ I thought trying to piece the puzzle together. ‘Es kann nicht Wahr! Amerikan? (It can’t be true, an American)?’ I suddenly thought. ‘’What state are you from? ‘ I asked him excitedly. He looked at me with raised eyebrows. ‘’ I don’t understand’’ he said with a thick accent. Not American!! I felt like an eight year old kid on the hottest day of summer who just got out of a two hour ice cream waiting line, about to take my first lick, and then someone smacks my cone down onto the pavement and keeps walking. I don’t know why I was filled with bursting excitement at the thought of seeing someone from the States.  I also can’t explain my disappointment when I found out he wasn’t from America. But he saw the disappointment on my face.

‘Woher kommen Sie? (Where do you come from?)’ I asked.

‘Italy’ he replied. My jaw dropped and I twisted towards Claudia. Her face was beaming with the same expectation I had. She had met someone from her home country! With glistening eyes she asked 'where?' (but in Italian). He still looked confused. She continued to speak in Italian. Then he said he was born in Germany and only knew a little Italian. He was an actor, attending a theatre school in Berlin and trying to make some money. Considering he already had the costumes and props, he and a friend stationed themselves in front of the Gate and charged two Euro’s for a picture. Thousands stand before this gate every year to pose for their perfect ‘I was here’ picture and hurry on their way, what a better way to earn a couple bucks.

Berlin holding my flag!

Nevertheless, I was excited to see my flag and hopped onto the podium next to him. He plopped a heavy hat onto my head and held out the peace sign. I rolled my eyes and stuck out my peace sign too. Claudia and I said goodbye and walked away while chuckling with disappointment. We laughed then walked home in silence. The feeling was unexplainable; not the feeling that my heart would freeze at any moment because of the wind chill, but that my heart was somehow a little broken. I knew this feeling from somewhere. When we arrived back at the apartment I let myself fall deep into thought. I thought this guy was from America. No matter his background or what state he came from, I could have made a connection with him, because what we shared was greater than our differences. I thought we shared America.  

My heart has known this feeling on more than one occasion. I have had this feeling after encountering many American ‘Christians’, here is a typical scenario.  I’m at the grocery store or gas station, and somehow they shine a little differently from the other people bustling along with their lives. As I’m waiting in line I’m impelled to talk with them. Through small talk I find that indeed they are a believer. My heart swells and I share my testimony of how He healed a cyst in my stomach and a disease in my blood. Caught up in the excitement of my story, I fail to notice their face. They look at me as if I’m speaking another language. ‘’That’s great’’ they say politely and wish me a good day. ‘Don’t we share the same God? The same Jesus?’ I ask myself as they walk away. They were waving the Christian flag and claimed His Name, maybe even wearing a necklace with The Cross too, but they were not a Christian. If they were, they would know that the impossible is where God works. He works when doctors say that I need an operation to remove a nickel sized cyst. He works when every option, logical attempt, and antibiotic fails. The Berlin actor was dressed as an American soldier and even held our flag. Many Christians may dress, act, and wave the flag of Christ but the words ‘spiritual warfare’ or ‘spiritual principalities’ are truly another foreign language to them. We may be dressed as a soldier of Christ but does our armor know battle? Does our hand know how to hold a sword? Do we know the tactics of the enemy?

Mid-day from my window and a walk

I share this with you in the hope you will join me, in advancing past being comfortable into being curious. I have spent too many days being passive without questioning or evaluating myself. Proverbs 9:8 says ‘reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee: rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee’. If you’re not offended by what I have written until this point, I ask one more thing of you. I’m asking you to evaluate yourself today. I want to leave you with this thought, this question; if today was the day you came before the Judgment Seat, would He know your name? Could He say, ‘I heard you this morning worshipping Me. I heard you this morning praying for your work colleague. I heard you singing praise songs to Me in the car ride. I gladly took your problems and offenses from you when they came and you gave them to me. Welcome to heaven now we can spend eternity together. Our time on earth was only the beginning.’ Could He say that? If He couldn't, are we any more than an actor too?

What I wrote was heavy I know. It was a conviction for myself and my relationship with Him, I am not as close as I wish to be. But the experience showed me the kind of person I don't want to be, I don't want to be an actor. The reality is that on that day we can't fake a relationship with Him. This revelation and soon coming reality is a wake up call.

'The Doorway' Berlin

Have a blessed week, Genevieve

P.S. all of these pictures were taken with my blackberry, I won't get my camera for an extended period of time because of global weather conditions such as tsunami's and floods in Japan. Do you think He's trying to get our attention?