Flashlights and Other Potentially Useful Items

It was never shameful to learn from any teacher things that are useful to know.
-Leon Battista Alberti 

As many of you know, I made a last minute trip to Romania for the holidays. Of course, with any visit to Romania comes attending church - like everywhere else in the world - but interesting things seem to happen in foreign churches that an American wouldn't typically expect (see the post 'Lovebirds' for a good example). This trip was no exception.

Since it was the Holidays, church happened many more times than normal. On New Year's Eve my family and I bundled up, tromped through the snow to church, sat in the barely heated building, and watched our breath emerge from our mouths as we tried to decipher the Romanian words flowing from the Pastors mouth. Slowly the light outside the windows faded and I found myself drifting off into thoughts of warm sunny beaches only vaguely aware that the youth group was getting up to sing. Then, all of a sudden, in the middle of a song the entire church went pitch black.

I have to admit that my first thought was not anything like it should have been. Instead of solemnly thinking "Snap. However shall church continue? The power went out! This is a horribly awful development and will most surely ruin my New  Years Eve," I found myself feeling quite happy and thinking "Yessssssss! Yes! Yes! Yes! However shall church continue? No one can see! Pastor can't read his notes! We get to leave early!!!" (I know, I'm not a very good candidate for Missionary Kid of the Year). The youth group's songs instantly sounded more cheerful, and for a few seconds I found myself full of an uncontrollable hope, pleading with the lights to stay off so that we could move on to our New Years celebrations.

That's when I heard the rustling. The youth group had stopped singing and in the silence I heard a sound that was somewhat familiar, although I couldn't quite place it. It sounded almost like my sister trying to find a tissue in the swimming pool sized bag that she calls a purse. I futilely looked around and right as I glanced towards the side of the church where the females were sitting, I saw it. A soft glow penetrating the darkness.

Someone had pulled a flashlight out of their purse.

Then I saw another light, and another. It seemed like everyone had a flashlight stored away conveniently in a purse or a coat pocket. The worst thing was, no one was acting as if this were abnormal! Needless to say, the hope that I was feeling only moments earlier ebbed away with the darkness. Of course everyone would have flashlights. Of course.

Then, the power came back on.

I couldn't really expect anything else, and really part of me was glad that church could continue (I'm not that horrible of a MK). It just made me wonder, what other potentially useful items are hidden away in the pockets and purses of Romania?

I'll probably find out next time I go to church with my family.
-Matthias

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The Hike

"Many climbers become writers because of the misconceptions about climbing."
-Jonathan Waterman

One of the views from our hike

This weekend several of my friends and I celebrated fall break by driving a total of 36 hours in order to spend 36 hours in the mountains. You see, my uncle Steve owns a lovely piece of property up the road from White Pine, Colorado (don't bother looking it up...even Google can't find White Pine). To us college students, so ready for a break, the mountains sounded like a grand idea, and hey, what's 36 hours of driving? So, we all piled into a car (or an airplane...several lucky people flew, I was not one of them), trekked across the Oklahoma Panhandle, and arrived at White Pine without too much hassle. After a night's sleep, a delicious breakfast (that took way too long to prepare), plus a 'everyone gather around the fire and share your deepest secrets and cry about it' session, we decided to go on a hike up the mountain.

It wasn't my idea.

From my experiences of spending a summer at White Pine several years ago, I suggested (with much digress) that we hike up Tomichi Pass. "It's not long," I guaranteed them, "I know it's been two years since I've been up there, and never mind the fact that I drove it last time, but I'm positive that we'll be able to do it in an afternoon!" I honestly think the apple cider from that morning's meal may have sat in the car just a bit too long...

After grabbing multiple bottles of water, making peanut butter and honey sandwiches, and peeing several times each (we were drinking lots of water...the altitude you know, it shrinks one's bladder), we were off up the pass. After about three steps, I was out of breath. After about six steps, I could feel the fat on my body start to melt away. This was going to be good! Then I looked down.

I was wearing Converse.

Have you ever tried to climb a mountain in Converse shoes? Don't. It does funny things to your legs. Besides the fact that they have no support, so even if you are a tiny bit fat you'll be dying from lack of air in several seconds. (It's easy to blame one's lack of physical ability on the shoes. Try it. That's why I still haven't bought a good pair of running shoes.) Anyway, we hiked for several hours, and try as I might, I still couldn't find the peak we were aiming towards. I kept reassuring everyone that it was just beyond that next mountain, but soon we were looking back at the snow covered peaks we had just passed, wondering how in the world we were surviving in the frozen tundra above the tree line of the Rocky Mountains.

I tried to keep up the motivation. "Hey guys! At least we still have peanut butter and honey sandwiches!" I gasped between half hour breathing breaks. "Oh! And we also packed clementines!" So, we sat down to eat. Then we decorated a Christmas tree with the clementine peels (that's our version of 'leave no trace' - 'make it look better than it did before with tropical fruit peels that would never be found on the top of a mountain'). After the lunch break, everyone decided to give up finding the original peak, and just run up to the top of one of the nearby mountains. I sat on a rock and watched.

Two hours later, I was interrupted from catching snowflakes on my tongue by the exhausted mountain climbers returning from their jaunt to the summit. I waved goodbye to my new baby bear friends and trekked back down the mountain, only to realize that Kristiana wanted to go swimming in the alpine lake up the road...

Maybe Colorado wasn't such a good idea.
-Matthias

P.S. If you ever happen to find yourself not able to fall asleep because you are more sore than you have ever been in your whole entire life, take Ibuprofen before you toss around for hours. You will thank yourself in the morning.

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The Shower

Everyone who's ever taken a shower has an idea. It's the person who gets out of the shower, dries off and does something about it who makes a difference.
-Nolan Bushnell

I left my towel at Aunt Rhonda's.

There are two reasons why I left my towel: first, I had used it that morning and didn't want to pack a wet towel in my suitcase. Second, I figured that every hotel or residence I stayed at would have towels that I could use. For the most part I was right, but being right for the most part is the same as being wrong.

Fast forward four weeks into my summer travels. It was my last night in Poland and I was staying at a facility set up by some church. I decided I wanted to take a shower - it had been rather hot that day and I had spent 3 hours in a stuffy communist-era train. I gathered my deodorant, razor, shaving cream, toothbrush, toothpaste, and my comfy pajamas that smelled like they hadn't been washed for weeks (they hadn't), and prodded down the hall to the bathroom only to find that it was locked. I sighed, flashed a disgruntled smile at someone who muttered something to me in Polish, and went back to my room. I paced back and forth multiple times until I was bored enough to see if the bathroom was finally open. It was. I opened the door with no trouble and happened to notice that there was an absence of a lock. Puzzled, I inspected the door more closely. Turns out one has to pull instead of push. Who would've thought?

I walked to the back of the bathroom where the single shower room was located. I opened the door and observed the tiny room. It was completely covered with tile, as most European bathrooms are. There was a large window on the wall adjacent to me covered by a curtain. Three hooks hung on the wall presumably meant for changes of clothes. The shower was on the wall to the left, and try as I might, I couldn't find a shower curtain anywhere, which totally negated any use those three hooks may have had. There weren't any towels either, so for the third time that evening I meandered back to my room - this time in search for a towel. I couldn't find one. I looked in all the wardrobes, all the dresser drawers, and on all the beds. No towel. Sighing, I zipped open my suitcase. My goal was to find the most absorbent, yet quickest drying material that I had with me. T-shirts, jeans, and underwear flew out as I dug. Finally, I found what I needed.

My H&M scarf.

Thankful yet again that I refused to buy polyester, I made the trek back to the shower, scarf in hand. I was then presented with the problem of how to keep the scarf and my change of clothes dry as I showered. I couldn't hang them on the three useless hooks, and I certainly couldn't leave them outside the door of the shower room (although, I forget why). Finally, I decided to place them behind the window curtain and pray that I wouldn't get lead poisoning from the chipping paint gathered on the windowsill. I had visions of the curtain suddenly catching a draft and flying open leaving me exposed to all of Poland and without any dry clothes to change into. After dropping every single sock I had with me into the water gathered on the bottom of the shower, I managed to get clean, dry (thanks to my multi-purpose scarf...ha! the fashion designers didn't see that one coming!), and into my comfy pajamas.

As I made my final stroll to my room, I resolved that I will eventually design a t-shirt that boasts "I survived the shower." The words will be written in the gaudy typeface that every B horror movie uses, and you can betcha that it will double as a towel.

-Matthias

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