I think it’s time to teach my kids the “it’s raining, it’s pouring” song. Or perhaps the “rain, rain, go away, come again another day!” one. Or maybe “Mister Sun, Sun, Mister Golden Sun, please shine down on me!”

Last night, there were really heavy rains, and (I believe) four people were killed in flash flooding in Tbilisi. So sad. Here, there was a really strong thunderstorm, which caused a mudslide/avalanche? (I think? There might have been something lost in translation, but it certainly looked like that on the news. There were rocks. And mud.) I, in my it’s-the-middle-of-the-night-and-I-was-rudely-awakened-by-thunder-and-lightning-and-the-realization-that-my-window-was-open haze, thought I was in Japan. For some reason. Then, I had a slight freak-out, because “AHHH, what if there’s a tornado?!” Again, it was the middle of the night, and I was quite confused. There wasn’t a tornado, for the record. Anyway, though, there’s mud everywhere, flash flooding, leaky roofs (not ours, luckily!), and it’s still raining.

Keep us in your thoughts and prayers, please.

Stay tuned for: Adventures in Turkey! Adventures in Tbilisi! And other awesome stuff!

Namaste. :)

I just got back from a long weekend holiday to Trabzon, Turkey, with some friends, and today is Victory Day here in Georgia (yay, no school!) As such, I’ve been bumming around a lot. So this is a post of random things that have been floating around my mind recently.

Nationalities for which I have been mistaken in the past 5 months, in order of frequency: German, Russian, Georgian, Turkish, Polish.

The next novel I want to read. Yep, I was raised on Guy Noir and A Prairie Home Companion.

Works I want to translate for my graduate school portfolio. Right now, Heart of a Dog and Data Tutaskhia are high on the future list. But for now, I need some poetry and short stories (Russian and/or Georgian). Any ideas, dear readers?

Hair conditioner is awesome. My hair is so soft. AHHH.

I am super happy that HIMYM (How I Met Your Mother, also known as The Best TV Serial Currently inExistence) is popular in Turkey as well as the U.S.

Spring in Georgia is like an explosion. An explosion of wonderfulness. :D Also, the strawberries here are the best I’ve ever had. EVER.

My university graduation is in 2 weeks. I should be there, but I obviously won’t be… Missing my Luther family (and, dare I say it, The Luther Commuuuuuuunity… bahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! :D ) a lot right now.

 

I apologize that this is so late, ahhhhhhhhh. Procrastination is easily one of my biggest talents. I will never admit that on a resume.

Right now, I’m listening to National Public Radio’s On Being. Conveniently, this week’s episode (and, by ‘this week,’ I mean the episode from 5 April; I’m really behind) is about Orthodoxy! It’s a great program, and I recommend it to anyone interested in religion and spirituality. It also makes me a little nostalgic, because in my previous (read: American) life, every weekend I’d wake up, think and write for a bit, make coffee, and then drink it at my kitchen table while listening to On Being and reading the news. Good times. Also, Krista Tippett’s voice is every bit as pleasant as the woman’s from The Splendid Table. (My best friend will know exactly what I’m talking about… love you, Kels! :D )

Anyway, though, Palm Sunday here was 8 April. It was Easter Sunday back in the U.S., so I spent part of the morning listening to Easter music and being a little sad about not getting to sing in a choir. [Easter music is my absolute favorite to sing, and I've been singing in the church choir at my parents' every year for the past 15 years, at least... it's weird to suddenly stop.] Then, my host mom and sister and I donned dresses and headscarves, and went to Kvelatsminda, a church a few kilometers from our home. Kvelatsminda was built in the 8th-9th centuries, and is one of two remaining churches in the world to have two identical domes—the other is in Bulgaria. I believe the name translates loosely to “Church of All Saints,” but upon Wikipedia-ing it five minutes ago, I found also that the English name is “Church of the Dormition.” Then, I looked up the definition for ‘dormition,’ and found that in Orthodox tradition, it stands for the Assumption of the Virgin Mary into heaven. Hooraaaaay, multi-tasking!

So. Where was I… ah, yes. at the donning of dresses and headscarves. I am, perhaps, mistaken, but I believe the reason women are required to wear skirts and cover their hair goes back to one of Paul’s New Testament epistles. Excuse me while I go fact-check. (“Your call is important to us, please continue holding until a representative is able to speak with you.” Being on hold: something I do not miss about the U.S.) Aha. Back. I’m sure you were anxiously awaiting my return. But yes, in the 11th chapter of First Corinthians, Paul instructs his male readers to keep their hair short and women to cover theirs. He goes on to say a few more things about how women should act and what their purpose on earth is . . .  Things on which I have Opinions. Buuuuut that’s not what this post is about. Shoot, I. . . have digressed again.

Back to Palm Sunday. In Lutheran tradition, we hold palm tree branches and parade around the church sanctuary before the service, saying ‘Hosanna, hosanna.’  At the end of the day, the same palm leaves are burned for the next year’s Ash Wednesday ashes. I think we’re probably supposed to be more excited with our ‘hosannas’ than we seem. Lutherans are reserved people. A typical Sunday morning service at my home church goes something like this: the pastor greets the congregation and announces the processional hymn, the organ (pipe organ, if you’re lucky! . . . I should also note that I’m biased, because I’ve studied the organ for the past seven years) chimes in, and it’s glorious and wonderful and gosh, I miss singing. Then, there’s a few readings, the Gospel, communion, more singing, and, finally, after the service, coffee hour. (My favorite hour!)

Here, though, church is more fluid. Everyone stands for the entire service, and people sort of move in and out of the building. I assume the Gospel readings were the same (not being fluent in Georgian, I wouldn’t know), but instead of palm branches, we waved sprigs of leaves from some other tree. I don’t know which, offhand, but if I saw some growing on the side of the road, I could tell you. Other than that, and lighting candles in front of some of the icons (for me, one for Christ and one for the Virgin Mary), there seemed to be many similarities. More than I was expecting. The biggest differences, to me, were between traditions and practices—not so much theology (although I know there are differences there, as well—they just aren’t as apparent for one who doesn’t speak the same language).

I’m about to write a new post on that, though. Stay tuned for the next installments in this series: A more detailed comparison of Lutheranism and Orthodoxy! Good Friday (or, in Georgia, Big Friday)! Easter Vigil! Easter Sunday! And also, at some point, my host cousin’s baptism.

Until then, be well, and namaste.

- the weather. It’s only slightly overcast (in fact, there’s a huge patch of sunny blue sky right outside my window), and yet it’s thunderstorming?
- the rules of backgammon (нарды).
- how my feet got so dirty.
- how they make instant coffee powder.
- if I will experience reverse culture shock upon returning to the United States (…probably.)
- what possessed Andrew Lloyd Weber to write a musical about cats. Why not dogs? Or, I dunno, platypusses? …Platypi? Platypae?
- what the plural of platypus is.
- how long I can reasonably go without washing my hair, now that it’s short again.

I have decided my springtime Life Duty is to be the rescuer of lost insects who find their way from the Great Outdoors into my little room and can’t get out again. I have a special box for catching them, even. Mostly bees. Sometimes horseflies or moths. The other night, I had eight moths in my room. EIGHT. Luckily, this means I am no longer afraid of anything. Well. Snakes. Still. And clowns. [Sidebar: our textbooks have a large number of clown characters. Disproportionately large. I am not sure what their significance is. Perhaps clowns are more popular in Great Britain? GAHHH, I hate clowns.]
Also, I got a haircut, and it’s great, and it was only 5 lari! (That is approximately 3 USD.) I love this country.

“sheet.”

(Today in class, the following conversation transpired):

5th grade student: “What does “sheet” mean?”

Me: “Like, a sheet of paper? Or a sheet on your bed?”

*Coteacher gives Georgian words for both.*

5th grader: “So that’s what it means when you say ‘oh, sheet?’”

Me: “Ohhhhh my. Nonono, don’t ever say that! That’s a bad word!”

Coteacher: “Now they’re all going to remember it…”

“beach.”

“count.”/”can’t.”

“ask.”

“where.”

And, well, the British word for “eraser.” Someone needs to tell these children that if they visit America and ask for a “rubber”… they are not going to receive a device used to erase pencil markings. It’s a challenge in patience (and in remaining straight-faced!), sitting in class and listening to 30 six-year-olds say “These are Tom’s rubbers.” Uff da.

 

 

Chances are, if you know me in person, you know just how interested in religion and spirituality I am. (Or, at the very least, you know I was raised in a very religious, yet open-minded home.) I’m especially intrigued by how religious beliefs and social culture affect each other. When I was a little girl, I was really into Norse mythology and ancient Roman and Egyptian history, and at age six, I decided I was going to be an archaeologist. I even knew how to spell it. (Yeah, I was pretty pretentious.) Okay, I still totally want to be an archaeologist. I think it’d be awesome. This one time, a couple of my friends and I were at the Field Museum in Chicago (Illinois, USA), and we definitely spent a good 30 minutes staring at a collection of ancient earthenware pots. People used them! Real people! Mayyybe we’re just nerds, but know what? I think history’s pretty awesome.

[Side note: on the same excursion, we also touched a rock that's been in outer space. IN SPACE. Also awesome. And we saw some stuffed "jackass penguins." And read an awful {or. . . awfully wonderful?!} Egyptian poem. I definitely recommend a visit to the Field Museum, the next time you find yourself in the Second City.]

So anyway, the point of this post is not, contrary to the above, about my extreme love for Chicago, the Field Museum, or archaeology. It’s about religion! Boom! This is the introductory post in a series about how my past experiences of religion and spirituality (Lutheranism, Catholicism, Taoism, Buddhism, New Ageyism, etc.) are similar to and different from my current ones.

So, some brief background information:

I was raised Lutheran. Very Lutheran. And Norwegian. If you’re familiar with Garrison Keillor’s radio show A Prairie Home Companion, or any of his books, well, that’s about what it’s like to be me. Let me tell you about Norwegian Lutherans. We’re a hardy, stoic people. We don’t shout (or even murmur) during church, aside from mumbled group prayers; our choral music is superb and every child is born with an innate ability to sing with three or more other children in perfect four-part harmony (case in point: this is my university’s top choir; happy Easter!); we drink a lot of coffee and eat a lot of “barrrrs” (Minnesota joke, har, har!); we let anyone take communion; and a variety of other things. We’re just all around nice people. As our dear founder (and my college’s namesake), Martin Luther, said, all of this “is most certainly true.” I attended a Catholic elementary school for four years, though, where I learned all of the prayers and petitions and saints (and just how different, and yet similar, Catholicism and Lutheranism are). It was my first unofficial foray into comparative religions, I suppose you could say. Then, I received my bachelor’s degree from the best little Lutheran college in the universe (there’s a bit of bias, there), where my senior thesis evolved, unexpectedly, from a journalistic piece on how it seemed my religious college had an uncanny ability to produce agnostics and atheists into a creative non-fiction piece about my spiritual journey. And my curiosity about religion is still insatiable! Anyway, that’s me, in a nutshell. Gosh, I love being Lutheran. We’re awesome.

Quick history lesson: So, there used to be one Church. And people fought some, as people are wont to do. Then, in the Great Schism of 1054, the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches split and excommunicated each other. So then, there were five centuries of Catholicism and then Brother Martin Luther came along and had 95 problems with the Roman Catholic Church and broke off, thus becoming Heretic Martin Luther and being one of the biggest players in the Protestant Reformation, which leads us to my current status as a Lutheran. [Actually, I owe Martin Luther my life, because my parents met at church... but that's beside the point.] The Orthodox Church, though, has been basically the same since, well, the beginning. And there are many differences between Protestantism and Orthodoxy.

I certainly don’t intend to get into a religious “who’s right and who’s wrong?” theological discussion, here—that’s the last thing I want to do—so please take into consideration the fact that I’m only just now learning about Orthodoxy. (Wikipedia is awesome, by the way.) Anyway, stay tuned for “Religion! Part One: Palm Sunday Edition.”

(Apologies for my spasticness. And excessive use of the word “awesome.” Nah, scratch the latter. “Awesome’”s a great word.)