The Jared Tracker

2008-06-20T10:14:00.015-05:00

So I got this YMCA membership in January, because hey, January is long and dark. And I swam a couple times and it was nice. Also, the wellness centre at work started a triathlon program and an application drifted across my desk, so I signed it because I didn't have to pay (well, it came out of my paycheck). Something to do at "the Y."

Anyway, before you could say "omega 3 ratio", I was tumbling headlong into the epic: tracking nutrition, trying to keep up to my workout log, purchasing all things spandex. There were swimming groups, running groups, spinning groups, schedules, blisters, and seminar after seminar on how to eat, sleep, train, and time bowel movements. I kid you not. It was incredible! For almost five months people had to avoid me in elevators or I would wax rhapsodic about Cliff bars and brick workouts, bike frames and power gels, tall tales and true facts about how at Ironman they have volunteers to take off your wetsuit (you peel halfway and lie down before T1) and slap you with sunscreen (four volunteers, eight buckets, and one speedy Coppertone gauntlet).

It was surreal, but at the same time, going through this with 35-odd other co-workers ranging from "can't-swim-a-lap" to "I-eat-miles-for-breakfast... -and-dessert" gave it a strange sort of logic. We trained together, learned together, and tried to set reasonable personal goals without letting anyone beat you out of the changeroom. Before long, project deadlines and work problems would do their swirling dance and yet hold no power over me--"Which bike should I get?" and "How can I improve my power transfer?" floating through my head.

I don't know what all aligned to bring me to the finish line after a 2km swim, 55km bike, and 15km run through the hills of Huntsville, Ontario, but it was worth it. Wolfgang and Nicole Guembel, two professional triathletes hired by the University Health Network to aid in the triathlon program (who do this for a living!?), certainly played a large part. With a honed training schedule, and everything sneakily written in time increments (run 30 minutes! swim 45 minutes! bike three hours then run for one!), it was exhilirating to find yourself finishing a run, checking the map, and realizing you'd just run 10 miles. Not that it wasn't tough at times, but with a bit of consistency and incremental gain, the human machine adapts pretty fast. Very cool.

Anyway, catch me in an elevator sometime, otherwise I could go on much longer. But out of left field I'm technically a triathlete, with two races down and maybe more in my future. I highly recommend it.

June 1: Milton Sprint (750m swim/30km bike/7.5km run)

My ride!

Transition area

The final km

June 15: Muskoka Long (2km swim/55km bike/15km run)

Warm up

Hard right

Hard evidence

Full set over on Flickr.

2007-05-06T17:47:00.001-05:00

Right. So where have I been the last little while? Mostly making things go alongside these fine folks:

My Job: The Core Four

That be Raymond, our very own Justin Liu, and Tran--the ones who've seen the lion's share of my last four months. The days and evenings have been full: the system I wrote to track patient visits and log issues for the Toronto Western Hospital pharmacy went live at the beginning of March. This meant my going on-call for four weeks and fielding an email or two (thousand) to make sure everything worked and everyone knew what was going on. I hope we still do.

But that's only half the story. Now that two more hospitals are interested in making our system work for them (meaning another round of design, modification, and, well, homework), it seems I have a few more emails yet to answer. And so it is that my manager pulled me aside earlier this week and offered me a full-time position. Even better, after mulling things over, I believe I'm going to accept. Fact is, it's a great job, and the people I'm working with are both passionate and fun to be around. Little nutty though.

Working at UHN

Now, that's not to say life has been all work. Closer than I'd like maybe at times, but since I posted here last I've seen three provinces, a couple states, and lots of good people. I mean, with hooligans like these on the loose

les amigos trois

you're bound to end up driving through Pennsylvania in the middle of the night dressed up like a cowboy and looking for a barn dance. And finding one. And a break-dancing inflatable cow. Not that evidence exists.

Plus, we're looking at 24 degrees Celsius this week, which might even be warm in Fahrenheit. With one eye on the used-bike market and the other on my vacation days, I might just be able to start crossing off some of my Toronto to-dos: do my laundry, bike the Don Valley, visit Waterloo...

2006-12-20T23:01:00.002-06:00

Conclusion: outside of the academic system for the first time in many moons, November is less stressful, though just as busy. October too, for that matter! And we can probably just set December aside for Christmas (four Christmases? five?).

Life is still good over here, and the days are full. I've been working a lot, sometimes late (the bane of flexible hours), but it's been pretty fun. My work at the Princess Margaret Hospital runs over a year contract, which means the halfway-point lands in January... along with a plenitude of associated deadlines. Thankfully, my project has already survived a couple of management changes and administrative obstacles, so we're pretty much out of the danger zone. As for the rest, the day-to-day craziness waxes and wanes, and though I'm pretty finished come Friday around 3pm, overall I feel on top of things and up to the challenge.

Outside of work, the evenings are ravenous! I did find a place to play badminton for a few months, and joined the choir at Knox Presbyterian Church (on Spadina), where Ali and I have been attending the last little while. The choir is about twenty-five voices strong, though of course I'm in a tenor section of three--oh, and the tenor lead sings full-time with the Canadian Opera Company. Thankfully, the rest of the choir can't keep up with him either, so I don't feel so bad--just delightfully in over my head. Other Toronto highlights include some off-the-beaten-trail theatre ("Baby with the Bathwater" and "Pounding Nails Into the Floor with my Forehead"), and several quality afternoons laughing/admiring/eye-rolling/wandering in and out of the many pint-sized galleries lining Queen St. and other, more hidden crannies. Strange city-people events aside ("Manhunt," aka "street tag," anyone? Darn that Thursday night choir practice!), I still run off into the forest now and again. Unfortunately, running away recently became more difficult, as in early December my time finally ran out and Ontario lunged at me with its "Non-Student-Loophole"-Ontario-Resident talons... the essence here being I had to re-register my 1984 Accord. A little bit of fix-it work and luck had things looking promising, but when the dust finally settled, I had to put "Gramps" to rest. So, instead of car keys, I'm rattling subway tokens, and in an oddly European "wait, this is North America?" moment, I took the train (admittedly, the GO) on this continent for the first time. The trip was so... linear :)

Thankfully, other trips are still bursting the seams! Most notably, Ali and I went to a certain "governated" state to visit these smiling people:

Our Californian Hosts

For those who don't recognize the above, suffice it to say that the goon on the left works at Google, which meant a fun tour of the campus (look! free food!) and other assorted shenanigans. Sadly, Ali didn't get to see her server farm, but we made it up to her with a game of pretend...

Pretending to be Pros

Followed by the real thing!

Catching the Big One

I think Rhoda took approximately three millions photos, but I put some highlights up over on Flickr. It was a fantastic way to celebrate that good old southern holiday known as American Thanksgiving: good times, good people.

And that's about three months right there. I did shave the beard in there somewhere, and found myself a quaint little used ipod nano (thanks Justin!); otherwise, I've just been enjoying the opportunity to catch up with people I know who've been hiding out in the GTA for the last couple years (the list is longer than I thought!). Of course, I'm taking off again on Friday for Manitoba (hitching a ride with Vaughn... wanna come? Room for one more!), so life isn't *all* Toronto, but hey, could be worse. And then it's head-down for a Rocky Balboa of a January (minus the sixty-year-old part, and a follow-up Rambo IV... you know, I'm just going to let that one go).

Sun, wind, waves

2006-09-16T10:39:00.002-05:00

Two exemplary days from my week: Tuesday - badminton at the Knox Presbyterian Church, Wednesday - sushi and karaoke on Bloor. There's lots of fun to be had here, if you're looking. The big event was Pemma's birthday, and with a smattering of her co-workers and some Waterloo-ites, things got a little crazy. Daif? Say you were to walk into New Generation and hear "For she's a jolly good fellow?" That was us.

New Generation Sushi, Toronto

Karaoke, Korean style

There are more pictures over at oceanpark... with an evening that ranged from "In Da Club" to "Under Da Sea," "Do Re Mi" to "Downtown" (and a free-stylin' "My Sharona"), I promise you, none of them are embarrassing.

*******

In addition to hunting down as many places to play racquet sports as possible, I'm also looking for a choir (or two) to sing in. I'm still occasionally struck by all the options. In some ways that old schism hasn't gone away--big city versus rural country--but I love how Toronto is redeeming itself. Each time I move to a bigger city I empathize a little more with "those people" who in the past have learned that I am from Elm Creek (population: 325) and burst out with "but what do you *do* there?" Not much, I guess! But there are those "even in Toronto" who are looking to connect with people, and not just things.

More to the practical point, I'm working like a fiend, and positively loving it. My contract at the Princess Margaret Hospital has me writing software to help clinical pharmacists make changes "at the bedside" to the medications prescribed by a patient's doctor. They may read this, but the people I'm working with are smart, driven, and laid back, which is one wicked combination in a place to work. Technology in healthcare is pretty exciting at the best of times.

*******

And in the "food-for-thought" category (aka "lots of big words"): Biology Under Attack by Barbara Ehrenreich, a cell biology PhD. who pulled an Orwell (passing as a low-wage worker) with Nickel and Dimed in 2001. The article only really gets going about halfway through: search for "arrival of the intellectual" if it you want to skip to the good stuff. Granted, you probably have to care about "social theory" and not take the implication that "religious creationism equals dogmatism" too personally.

2006-09-11T20:50:00.001-05:00

Life in the fast lane

What was I thinking? I had it made!

There is much going on today, everywhere. I'm feeling caught by the big picture. But there are still things to be said.

So I'm off to go call some of those people.

The list is long, but you're all getting a prayer today.

2006-08-03T21:04:00.001-05:00

And the ball stops rolling... right here, this very moment: baked potato in the oven, steak on the grill beside the corn cob, "The Boy Least Likely To" on my headphones, the computer resting beside my camera and a copy of "Napoleon: A Political Life" (so sue me, I read _Les Mis_ on the way to Halifax and now look at me--non-fiction!)...

And I'm a software developer at the Princess Margaret Hospital living and working in downtown Toronto.

You have to remember, I'm still in Lithuania. Not physically of course, but I continue to be blindsided by it at odd moments: passing certain senior ladies, turning the corner to find an Eastern European boutique selling tight jeans and printed sweaters (the salespersons' accents surprisingly comfortable), and meeting a plethora of Ukrainians and Belarusans where I never would have picked out that "w" in village before. This is funny because Ali is recently back from Bangladesh, and she's busy sniffing out every salwar kameez within fifty paces. We make an odd pair, strolling down Yonge street, trying to take it all in.

Earlier this morning, I could have looked you straight in the eye and told you it was June. It's not. Ali landed in Toronto on July 9th, and after some quick transition time we hit the road to Halifax for her friend Drew's wedding. The trip was over too soon, but I loved the introduction to Peggy's Cove and the Nova Scotian countryside (...and Victor Hugo ;-] ). For those of you in the know about my own personal P.E.I. curse, well, still unbroken: I have not as yet graced those reddish shores. But the trip was worth it nonetheless, and my multi-lingual nostalgia was refreshingly assuaged by our very own Quebec. I may still occasionally get Upper and Lower Canada confused, but hey! Canada has a history! (Note: this is apparently good to remember when living in Toronto, as you may suddenly find yourself on the border between Little Portugal and Little Argentina during World Cup action, where (as in most of the city) the ratio of foreign flags to Canadian is 99:1... and the rest say "Go Leafs Go." :-] )

So I still find myself reacting to the city in various ways, but surprisingly (not so?), many of them are positive. Foremost among these happy things are the job and living arrangements that I've managed to procure (or have procured me?)... but perhaps a little more background is an order.

As you may remember, I spent May and June pouring time and stress into the job search amid the guilty pleasures of a reunion tour. Silly me: everything was waiting for me the whole time--I just didn't know it yet! After drawing blanks for almost two months, sometime around the end of June I decided to drive to Toronto and hope for the best... no real plans beyond a list of phone numbers. After a brief side trip to an extended-family picnic at Happy Rolph's petting zoo (...don't ask :] ), I showed up at the doorstep of one "Justin Liu," my trusty backpack and equally trusty ThermaRest in hand. He welcomed me in and said, "Hi. By the way, you have a house and a job."

Long story short: I had interviewed with Justin's team at the Princess Margaret back in May. I didn't get the job, but on the interim a new one-year contract had come up--and they'd already interviewed me once. So by the time I opened Justin's door, all I had to do was sign the papers. Oh, and Justin's housemate had just decided to move out, which is how I found myself moving into a new place, mid-lease, the day after I got back from Halifax and the day before I started my new job.

So, one (or two) humbling miracle(s) later, I'm settling into life in the eye of the metropolitan storm: The Annex, a quiet neighborhood just north of the University of Toronto, right smack in the downtown T-Dot. No one GTA and outward seems to believe me, but it's really nice here. I'm splitting the upper floor of an old Victorian with Justin--the second-floor balcony is ours:

157 Admiral Road.

In addition to this, my walk to work takes me through quiet streets shouldered by some positively wonderful old ivied houses--

on the way to work...

as well as some decidedly Torontonian backdrops:

a little further on.

All told, not a bad introduction to the place! And that's a snapshot of the pieces :) I don't have any furniture yet; I've been running around parking my car everywhere I can find a nook; I'm balancing groceries and paycheques and wish-lists until I can find my feet. But what little money I have left after Lithuania is the direct result of the generosity of people who believed in my being there, and this gives me a profound respect and thankfulness for where I find myself now, however long I stay.

Now I just have to start adding in a few evenings: soccer (Zwei LinkenFuss? If Dave ever goes?), ultimate, maybe a choir with the legendary Steve and Louise... and life is building towards a glowing autumn--though at 50 degrees Celsius after humidity it's clear summer isn't over yet (of course, in *Tennessee* it might as well be February ;-] ).

My humble apologies to everyone who has been trying to track me down recently--the phrase of the year is definitely "off the grid"--but one of these days I'll get a phone number and try and do something social again. Until then, feel free to drop by 157 Admiral any time between 6pm and 10pm weekdays, any time at all on weekends. I may still be sleeping on a ThermaRest, but I can probably spot you a couch. :)

2006-06-29T13:25:00.000-05:00

So after assorted travels and many family and friends, I have officially landed in Toronto. Soccer today I hear... do we refuse to let the rain cow us?

Since I clearly need a break already, it's up to Ottawa for Canada Day, but on my return I think it's time to find a place to settle in. I'll write more once work and home are finalized.

2006-06-15T00:46:00.000-05:00

Wow, I haven't had that much sports fun in a long time. Oilers with the overtime win in Game Five: a beautiful thing. Sometimes the simple stuff is just so great.

2006-06-10T14:45:00.000-05:00

Off the grid. On the dole. On the road. Couch-crashing. Jet-lag. Consecutive all-nighters. Sunflower seeds. Fields and the big sky. Photos of Lithuania. Missing it. Loving it. Oh the joys of Canadian beef and barbecue. Heck, multitudinous family and friends too.

For all those fine people who have not (yet) recently suffered through the stories and scheduled interruptions of a visit by yours truly: a brief Mayesian synopsis. It's been pretty much ups, downs, and turn-arounds, but I think things are finally starting to settle out.

*******

The Leave-taking

Yes, May 1st, and my final sight of Klaipeda, already three kilometres behind me. I left first thing in the morning with Jen and a few other faculty members; we took the van to the Vilnius airport, flew from there to Frankfurt (where I had met Jerilyn on my way in), and then it was time to board the international flight back to Canada. I'm usually only nostalgic long after the fact, but I'll admit I was forlorn like a puppy and taking many pictures. Then there was the moment of truth, wherein I nearly broke loose with my credit card and went for it... but who could pass a sign like this without being just a little tempted?

Cue blindfold, pick.

For those as yet unfamiliar with my tale of woe, due to government bureaucracy, a bum radiator, and some unforeseen health issues (not my own), I found myself jobless, carless, and homeless on return. Bievenue a Canada! But I've always been blessed with good friends, and I still had my trusty pack... so I scraped together my remaining twenties and was off to Waterloo. Very strange taking the bus, I might add.

Not Waterloo

Wait, that's not Waterloo! No, the above crazies are Rose, Nathan, and the indefatigable Vaughn at the Sherwood "cottage" (pictured in the background... long story). And that was only one weekend among many in Waterloo, Toronto, Beamsville, Winnipeg, and Elm Creek--playing ultimate, Settlers, poker, "talk-all-night," "drive-very-far," and "not-sleep." Sheesh, talk about a reunion tour! Needless to say, the rest of May was a blur, and my editor says to cut the details.

But it was great! An honest count puts me up over well, many friends, all willing to eat something, talk, and maybe run around a bit. I couldn't have asked for a better return to a country still coloured by the filter of last year--people, I sincerely appreciate your caring friendship. And for those of you truly starved for stories, well, Vaughn has a rational account of one among many of the month's adventures--this one concerning the latest in an illustrious history of 20+ hour drives to Manitoba... just don't believe everything he says :)

*******

So now I'm gathering my wits in the guestroom of my parent's house, finally able to unpack my stuff and put it in a real closet after almost a year, falling in love with Manitoba all over again. The stresses are different here, you know? The last week has been back-to-the-grindstone job hunting, so reality has once again been met, but I've also had a few just-abouts... and one of these times something will stick. I still plan to throw everything in the back of my (now fixed!) car and head Toronto way in the near future (i.e. next week), so if you know of a place to either work and/or sleep for the next year or two, please let me know!

Plus, if I haven't visited you yet, send me an email; I'll see what I can do. The list already includes Grand Prairie, California, Colorado, and Tennessee... what can one more city/province/state/country hurt? Exactly. Peace out team! I leave you with art a la Sherwood.

Etching

2006-05-03T13:57:00.000-05:00

Home again, home again, jiggity jig. Good times all around. A few hours to Vilnius, a few hours to Frankfurt, a few hours to Toronto, and suddenly Grandma's putting thirds on my plate and I'm waking up at five in the morning to plan my next lesson. Except it is suddenly, blissfully, already done. All of them. For months.

It's a good feeling :)

So instead I'm just easing back into the familiar. Have to find a job, a house, and a charcoal BBQ grill (mmm... all-beef patties) somewhere in the next two weeks, but it's all good. True to rumour, I found myself surprised by little things on the return: the guy wearing a cowboy hat, the guy wearing socks 'n Birkenstocks, the lady behind the service desk who smiled and spoke English... habits and pieces of a former life in a new light. But with the rest, relaxation, and dangerously high, no, MENNONITE levels of food going on, things feel pretty wonderful. Rejuvanating, really.

I'll get things sorted out in a bit, i.e. internet access and pictures, but until then, yup, I'm safe, yes, I really do miss everyone, and sure enough, saltibarsciai would taste so amazingly good right now. Course, I also don't have to clamp a ticket or make up some sort of pantomime (or butcher a third language) in order to russle up a bit of supper due to the vacant fridge. And today, that's O.K.

So I'll be back around here in a bit. Hope spring is finding you well, and that the switch to new stuff etcetera--should you be finding yourself in such a situation--is going swimmingly.

ciao,
jp

2006-04-20T12:36:00.000-05:00

Ten short days.

For those of you not up to counting, that puts my flight home on April 30th--yup, I set foot back on Torontonian-Canadian soil at 7:45pm (ahhh... 12-hour time). I'll forgo all the usual "this seems surreal," but if you could assume for me that it's there? Many other things remain to be done, of course, but that's April for you.

The plan is to be BBQ'ing and eating non-ketchup-tasting pizza somewhere around Southern Ontario for the summer. I have a few job leads, but nothing definitive... maybe Ottawa, likely the T Dot or Waterloo. So please, if you know of someone I could interest in a resume (the Penner Special), drop me a comment or an email. I've got soft. dev. and information management (tech. writing) down... but will switch career paths for food. Okay, not quite, but I might be interested.

Also, I hope to visit you at least twice and snatch a frisbee from out your grasping hands times innumerable. Plus, if you mangle sentences as badly as I've begun to, we can be friends.

Back to work, but keep Canada warm for me, eh?

2006-04-14T09:20:00.000-05:00

Whoa, something to blog about, and it just kind of happened to me.

All right, so this post is going to be personal, as in, you might learn something about me. Sorry. But recently I've been working on this new plan whereby I try to do work all of (well, most of) the time, and "save up" my pointless internet exploration... for Friday afternoon, during which the (morally and lawfully legal) sky's the limit. It's fun! I'm done classes early, I usually just want to turn my brain off anyway, and it means I can waste time productively!

...or something. Right, so it's amazing how boring the magical interweb appears when you sit down and say "begin." But that's kind of the point, and besides, despite your best efforts, one or two collaborative bookmarking sites will usually be enough to get you going. With the imposition of a few ground-rules, like "no repetition" to avoid infinite time sinks--for example: clicking through pictures, posting comments (anywhere), and pretty much any kind of news but especially the odd surreal weird (life will continually outdo our ability to keep up, and yes, I spent a year reposting fark entries [can't promise the ads are tasteful--ed])--you can find yourself in some pretty interesting places, reading some pretty informative and interesting things.

Of course, Sir Net is the king of niches, and so anything I reveal here is going to "niche me," but I've already warned you about this so away we go:

Start with a standard, eternally-making-the-rounds article, usually a reprint from 1993, often the type of straight-forward satire piece that stands the test of time:
How to Deconstruct Almost Anything
Marvel at the smooth writing, the witty perceptiveness, and the peculiar relevance of the intersection of literary criticism and computer engineering (here we go already!).

Take a moment to find something to disagree with for superiority purposes (e.g. "clearly, the author fallaciously overgeneralizes literary criticism from an overtly reductive view of deconstruction"), note the irony, then accept the author's olive branch of "fine, there's some content in literary criticism." Nod with satisfaction at the successful completion of yet another brush with what could have been a conflicting worldview.

Pause, get a crazed "I used to be in CS" look-in-your-eye, then hack the planet by removing parts of the URL to bring you to the main page, and *then* navigate through the (clearly pathetic) homepage until suddenly you find yourself at *that* talk about cyberspace, from (even earlier!) 1991, and realize, stunned, that his resume backs up every word.

Spend some delightful minutes reading the rest of his opinion pieces, realize that once again someone has been you before you got there, and resolve to give up both the internet and your dreams for the sake of something more immediately tangible.

(Upon return to reality, raise doubt in yourself as to whether you might not have already posted this before... vive la Derridean differed meanings of differance!)

Anyways, I know I've just made most of my audience cross their eyes and roll them at the same time (impressive!), but this kind of stuff *is* my druthers, and I'm now an official Google reader subscriber to The Habitat Chronicles, because who doesn't like statements like "our intuitions involving identity break down in the face of the scale of global civilization and the technological affordances of the Internet" (the promised part II of A Contrarian View of Identity)?

Regardless, if you didn't enjoy with some sort of primordial glee the depths of "Godel, Escher, Bach" (should we really have to link things anymore, especially when odds are someone's already biased it into Wikipedia?), you can relegate this "Chip" and, indeed, my entire post, to the land of overinflated internet ramblings.

Though if it's Friday afternoon, you may as well make yourself comfortable.

2006-03-26T04:59:00.000-06:00

I know... I've been remiss. Although I wonder: since the dawn of blogs*, how many entries have begun with apologies? A flaw in the medium? The carpenter and his or her tools?

That's right Jared, spread the blame.

*******

So here's what's on my mind. You may not be aware of this (especially those of you who aren't geographically here right now), but Lithuania shares a border with Belarus. Belarus is currently in the throes of the re-election to another five-year term of one Lukashenko, and though the ballot is over, it was to a great extent rigged. Now everyone has to figure out what to do and think about that.

Some question the effectiveness of the resulting active protests of the opposition party. What's the point? It isn't going to change anything! Others deny a problem exists: one Russian newspaper has a quotation from a Lithuanian daily (Respublika) entitled, "The Byelorussians Do Not Want Freedom."

Even though these events are close at hand, I find myself an outsider: I know students with friends who are being arrested (Suzana especially is being quoted for her thoughts), and the conversation swirls among LCC staff and faculty (Mark, for instance, points out an American NSA press statement), but I myself have no direct connection to the conflict.

*******

In fact, in terms of current events, I am likely more closely linked to the news that several members of a Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) delegation kidnapped in Iraq were recently released, though one of the hostages, Tom Fox, was tragically executed (see the CPT press release). I have several close friends (Natasha, Chris) who have participated in both short- and long-term CPT delegations, and find myself irresistibly drawn to the arguments surrounding the use of non-violence in the context of Iraq.

On this front, my friend Vaughn points out two more editorials: Cal Thomas suggesting that the death of Tom Fox was useless because the odds of change without violence were "zero to none," and the anti-violence response of Dave Miller, a CPT member in Hebron at the time of the kidnapping.

*******

Frankly, I often find it hard to see my way through the dust that gets kicked up around political issues. Frustration and apathy are not just a temptation (or someone else's flaw), but an honest, valid problem that often colors these conversations for me (perhaps providing a necessary function at times?). More to the point, the manipulative arguments and constant rehashing of the obvious exhaust me.

But to not enter the conversation in any way is, in my opinion, to shirk responsibility. And that's what connects these two events for me--the protests in Belarus, CPT's peace-building in Iraq: I think it is important to take steps toward what you believe in, whatever the odds or limits of the effect. Not blindly, but with as much of an awareness as you are able. Not to change the world, but simply to stand up for your place in it.

I personally have a profound respect for Christian Peacemaker Teams. And I believe the protests in Belarus showed laudable integrity in the face of a possible escalation of violence.

*******

Over and around these things, my time here continues to be both stretching and rewarding :) The LCC board of directors met this past week, the still-in-the-process-of-being-created tradition of the "Parade of Stars" roared by on Friday (Anna and I were the hosts), and the business department continues to wrestle towards the resolution of LCC's accreditation goals. Also, a few extra classes this week (no hard feelings Jerilyn, but I'm coming after you ;) and the epic adventures of Rushdie's Midnight's Children (20th Century Literature) await. Plans for May remain up in the air, but hey, maybe a Frisbee is up there too.

And finally, March break pictures, in which Adam Feiner and Mike Turman cross the Big Wet to take on Vilnius, are up over on Flickr. Stories within stories, but at least the slate is clean again.

Hey, who *is* that guy?

Mike at Forto Dvaras

Latvian Bobsledding

2006-02-13T09:35:00.000-06:00

Eurosport has been covering the Olympics with traditional media excess recently, and with some spare time and a television together in my apartment over the weekend, my sense of connectedness with the world has reached unparalleled heights. Perhaps because of this new, zen-like state of being, I remained unphased as the luge broadcaster confidently filled his audience in on the "secret training facility" (he used those words) that Russia constructed in Sigulda, Latvia, in 1986. Instead I replied, with a British accent of my own, "Yes, well, from my *own* personal experience, I would have to say that the bobsled section of this particular track is, well, short, but technical, and not without merit despite a certain lack of je ne sais quois."

Though I suppose my experience may have differed somewhat from the Olympians'.

*******

You see, the weekend before, Thor, Jerilyn, Sarah and I rented a car and made the trip to Sigulda to see the bobsled track for ourselves. Upon arrival we became privy to the effects of "luge inflation"--a.k.a. "screw the tourists." As a result of these effects, there were two models we could choose from: the "real" bobsled, or the... luxury model. For 21 Lats less ($45 CDN), we could take the, well,

Our Bobsled.

Not that this puppy couldn't fly like a wildcat, but I have to say I would have preferred the orange one. Now, some might argue against the authenticity of our "wild speed adventure," but hey, the laws of economics are made of sterner stuff than you or I. Thor *did* strategize his way through to a third option... luckily, we managed to stop him before the security guards had to.

Thor, unleashed

Unfortunately, even though I stealthily took a video of the entire one minute, nine second affair (causing my right hand to reach temperatures of near absolute zero), I traded the long hours required to figure out how to post that sucker on Blogspot in and emailed two friends instead. You know who you are. And yes, I'm still behind. Keep 'em coming.

*******

But one does not travel to Latvia for one minute and nine seconds (unless one does). No, we stayed the night and saw what had to be seen! And actually, our lodgings turned out to be just as cool as the bobsled track.

Get Thor to tell you sometime about his first experience with this hostel, and I promise you will come away with a sense of harrowing dread. The story includes--not a word of a lie--a stormy night, a power outage, a cablecar, an axe-wielding groundskeeper, children screaming, and an open steel door with signs reading "QUARANTINE." During the day, however--and for the duration of our trip--things are much more serene. In fact, at first glance, you likely wouldn't think "hostel":

Wait, is that a hostel?

And indeed, you would be partially right, because the dormitory rooms are on the first floor of a children's rehabilitation center. The Krimulda baronial estate provides long-term clinical care for children, in addition to housing paying guests for cheap. What this meant for us was a wonderful stay, with a beautiful view over the valley, and a hearty breakfast which we shared with the other inhabitants. A plucky bunch, it must be said, with some of them mighty fast on their crutches:

Our Fellow Guests

The entire area surrounding Sigulda is itself definitely worth the visit, with caves, castles, and some guy who has a ski slope in his backyard complete with half-pipe and a groomer. It was getting a little cool outside (-32 celsius, my camera batteries lasted exactly fifteen minutes), but we took our time exploring the ruins and pathways at a brisk walk. Plus, after bartering our car rental company into giving us another day, we spent an afternoon touring Cesis, the second-oldest city in Latvia (the first stone castle getting started in 1206), and the birthplace of the Latvian flag.

*******

Another fine adventure had on a bit (okay, a lot) of penny-scraping and some canny interneting--a short weekend long on good times. We stopped by the Latvian cities of Jurmala and Leipaja on the way home, and generally had ourselves a grand old time eating pepperoni and stopping by the odd makeshift, backwoods snow-rally. And that was pretty much it.

Oh yeah, and we went to Estonia for supper. I'm not exactly sure *why* we're holding up mustard, a gravy cup, and a coaster with the Estonian, Spanish, and Latvian translations of important phrases including "Would those lovely ladies at the table over there like to join us?", but we are. Enough said.

Cabman's Pub, Valga, Estonia

2006-01-25T07:10:00.000-06:00

So here's how it went:

21:33 - arrive home, unlock door, enter, shut door, lock door
21:34 - remove shoes
21:35 - enter bedroom, remove outer jacket, remove inner jacket, store keys/wallet
21:39 - enter bathroom, brush teeth, resolve to floss, fail to floss, exit bathroom
21:41 - open fridge, remove iced tea, close fridge, open cupboard, remove glass, close cupboard, pour iced tea, open fridge, remove ~~elephant~~ giraffe, remove elephant, replace iced tea, close fridge, drink iced tea
21:42 - grimace, swish, spit
21:43 - place glass, greet couch, stretch
21:47 - stretch
22:03 - stretch
22:10 - yawn
22:12 - notice "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" on the coffee-table and despite a will of steel and certain knowledge of impending doom throw caution and sleep-related responsibility to the wind and resolve to read the back cover
01:02 - finish book, finish iced tea, finish blog entry, call it a night

And that's it really. Didn't quite stay up all night, but I can recommend the book, which is by Mark Haddon, and which is a fun read with just the right hint of sentimentality.

*******

You know those Mensa intelligence tests? They always make me feel dumb when I stall out on question three (usually something about UGAINA and whether it's most likely a river, city, or plant) and then have to go lie down because my head hurts. Intelligence is kind of a funky thing that way: "what does it mean really?" and all that. But I came across this other type of Mensa Test the other day and it was kind of fun. Besides, it called me a genius (26/33) and who doesn't like that? Of course, the next day they put up Part 2 and said a bunch of things about cultural bias and now I'm just a "sharp mind (probably a genius)," which is internet testing for you. Anyway, it's fun with words, so if you're into that sort of thing, enjoy.

*******

I realized yesterday that I've been away from Canada for just over 5 months already. It's extraordinary how much your perspective shifts. It's not that I've been dramatically enlightened by the experience... but I do feel looser, as though some things have come undone that I didn't know were there. A loss of certain cultural points of reference. An outside look at Canada's "footprint" on global events. It's enough to reassure me about my place here, to let me finally shake off the rust of the transition and get down to business.

A Conservative government? We'll survive.

2006-01-23T04:21:00.000-06:00

Austria indeed. So now I'm left with the uneviable task of unburying myself from almost one full month of unanswered email, among other things. The end of a landmark semester, Christmas, New Year's, and the start of another term have all come and gone, carrying with them the people and places in between. I could almost let it go at that, considering the pull of looking back and the pull of looking forward are almost at an equilibrium here, today, on January 23. Though I believe I've promised a feature-length presentation. Well, a highlight reel will have to do. In thirty seconds, the ghost of Christmas past:

Christmas 2005:

Christmas 2005

Travelling:

Two travellers

Prague:

Charles' Bridge at Night

Austria:

From an Austrian Train

Schloss Mittersill:

The Schloss Street Boys - Rowing Away

And... done! Which pretty much covers our adventures, during which Ali came to visit on her way to Bangladesh, and during which we spent many hours folded up into bus seats in order to see as much as possible while spending as little as possible. All in all, a quality holi-dee.

*******

But wait, what about the action? What about the part where Ali finishes her job in Toronto in mid-December and with an ocean to conquer decides to do it all in one valiant run? The part where I wrap up a semester with muted heroics of my own and after a week in Lithuania, we cast off on a valiant expedition to find the lost castle of Schloss Mittersill (a Christian retreat centre in Austria) via Prague? Because I remember that part! It's cinematic brilliance! Prague is fascinating! Victor, our Canadian Study Abroad co-conspirator, buys absinthe! I buy chips! Ali buys--wait, Jared and Victor are already leaving! So much for the Christmas market!

Right. Well, go watch Speed again. Because learning about what to do in a hostage situation is more important than the fact that New Year's at a castle in the Austrian Alps is a lot of fun (and you weren't there). Because it turns out that Ali has all kinds of "family connections" with the peeps at Schloss Mittersill, and so with style and panache we could turn up our aristocratic noses as they rolled out the red carpet...

Fine, so mostly we just slept, ate, read by the fire, and spent some quality downtime (including Uno on steroids) with fascinating people from all over. There was also one, carefully calculated, precisely precisioned day of downhill skiing; the weather could not have been more perfect. Transportation to and fro went a bit awry, but what ski-story would be complete without an elderly non-English-speaking Austrian ski instructor and a hitched ride long after dusk?

*******

Yes, the whole shebang was glorious. And for cake-icing, a heavy Austrian snowstorm conjured delayed trains, a bonus day in Vienna, and another bonus day in Warsaw. In truth, Warsaw was a bit of a bleak return after the sunny days we spent at the foot of the Alps, but despite this, the older sections of town were well-worth our somewhat freezing and abbreviated walking tour:

Warsaw, Poland

And then it was all over, and we were waking up at 4:30am to drive Ali to the airport in Latvia and I was teaching classes with "English" in front of them instead of (well, as well as) "Business" in front of them and students were asking me who Michel Foucault was and grades needed to be changed and people were starting the first season of "Lost" again and Ali was landing in Dhaka and I was hitting snooze for the seventh time and suddenly we were four time zones and sixty degrees celcius apart and no, I still haven't answered your emails yet. Sorry about that. (It sincerely does mean a lot to me, and makes being so far from the comfort of the familiar just that much more possible.)

*******

So yeah, a great couple of weeks. Looking back, that first semester was a great experience: stretching at times, extremely educational (on both sides of the academic fence, I hope), and full of great people. Looking forward, I'm really glad I'm here for a second term, and with a schedule that isn't quite so "ow it hurts me," I'm looking forward to staying up past 10:30pm every once in a while. Though connecting that number with "bedtime," even only mentally, still makes me wonder at how much can change in a couple of months. Which is why I'm staying up all night tonight and blogging my experiences real-time. Wait for it...

2005-12-13T12:47:00.000-06:00

Yup, and now December is today.

A good day, too! Ordered pizza for a change--in fact, got it delivered. Another Lithuanian first. The boxes didn't read "Ginos" and Daniel didn't "make the call" and it came to the reception desk instead of "the guys upstairs" in dorm... but it was almost undergrad again. I'll admit it: I was trying to mentally transmogrify the paper piles in my office into poker and Braveheart (twice, in a row). It didn't work. All I could summon was a few twinges of guilt as the occasional student walked by the lounge... where fine, upstanding faculty members sprawled on leather couches, looking sheepish and using their ripped pizza-box covers as makeshift plates. Hmmm... remember Calvin, Hobbes, and their transmogrifier? I could probably use an upside-down cardboard box right about now.

*******

The end of an academic term always seems like some weird sort of vortex. I guess I've come at this from various angles over the years, but it's true. It's like when you pull the plug in the bathtub and the water lowers until suddenly a funnel appears and the rest of the water rushes out with a loud sucking noise. That last part always seems to happen twice as fast.

*******

Did I mention that Casey and I are thinking of moving into a new apartment, should we be able to find one? Apparently brand-new doesn't necessarily mean brand-name, quality-wise. It's not that the occasional leak in ceiling or window is that bad (unless you happen to have your entire American-exported library on your window-shelf--still feeling your pain, Casey), it's just that we're so far away from the action. Recently we overhauled our living-room layout--Anna and others insist it's too "modern." But we do all right, sprawled out on our respective couches (yes, lots of couch-sprawling, it fills in the gaps). Don't worry about us too much though: I asked Casey and even he admits the place is starting to feel more homey. Also, if you leave the windows open just a crack, there's no condensation.

*******

All of this to say that it's been an absolutely fascinating semester. Some months seemed to drag out forever (October), others didn't seem to want to show themselves (November), but the end of Semester Number One is now upon us. Sure, I have a hundred-some-odd hours of marking left (you were right Kate, never do the math... it feels better to exaggerate anyway :) but there's a strong feeling of accomplishment that's already beginning to build. Not to mention the grin that is at this point quite irrepressible: a certain someone is wandering around London as I write this. Ah certain someones :)

Anyway, the Master List of my Organized Week and I are currently locked in mortal combat. En garde! I've been using my powers to keep it at bay (its own powers are not to be underestimated), but this has been encouragingly easy to do, mostly due to my constant excision of list items: coupe! Or perhaps: fleche! (Adam? Is that the fencing term describing the move where you run past the opponent after launching off of your lead foot in an attack resembling an arrow? Just kidding: I already looked it up) But now I'm hopelessly entangled in a fencing metaphor, so we should move on.

Which means back to work. Rest assured, there is much more to come. Consider this a teaser-trailer for Prague, Austria, and a castle in the mountains. Ah the holidays.

2005-11-30T10:26:00.000-06:00

Impossible! December is TOMORROW!?!

All right, so I don't actually have any regrets about November, but that's only because I didn't realize I was in it. December. I guess the Christmas decorations and the dress rehearsals (for the Christmas program: I'm on vocal choir and finger-cymbal duty... bell choir is students only) and the tinsel in my hair should have tipped me off.

If I were a daily blogger instead of sitting somewhere around biweekly that might have helped too.

So it's the typical term-end rush, but kind of inverted. Or maybe a sin* curve + 1 instead of 1 over: the students breathe their mighty knowledges onto many pages and the teachers stick around to clean up the mess. School seems very untidy these days.

And yes, the adventures of the first-timer continue. Someone asked me in an email if I was finding a bit more of a routine. Yes, I've been routine-finding a bit. I've also been shortening the long hours and balancing my sanity better. That doesn't mean the occasional egregious error doesn't crop up, but we're making it through.

It's even, at the bottom of it all, kind of fun :)

So now I'm off to make Indian food with some fellow late-nighters... then it's back to the office for some quick emails and a lesson plan or two. Good times all around.

Let it be noted that when Lithuania snows, it's really beautiful.

Peace,
Jared

*pronounced "sine," not "sin." Math, not religion. Although aren't the two--? Never mind.

2005-11-22T08:38:00.000-06:00

Who doesn't like really good free stuff? Google Analytics does some pretty awesome free website analysis. I'd never bothered with visit counters and so on. Now I get cool graphs and stuff, for free! Lose twenty pounds! Okay, maybe not that last part.

How's life in Lithuania been the last little while? Pretty good. Coming back from Fall Break was a bit of a kick in the teeth, but it finally started to snow, and now everything feels fresh and clean again. I'm sure there's lots of stuff that will need to get done before Christmas, but it doesn't seem overwhelming today. We're in the semi-finals in volleyball, I don't have to emergency-relief that solo for the Christmas program (on Dec. 2nd and 3rd! Papa sang bass...), and well, marking. Grading! Sorry, keep forgetting.

I guess I'm supposed to have pictures or stories here or something, but this is just a momentary procrastination. So in a mental rush, here's a list of some of those small cultural differences that creep up on you every day:

light switches are hip-height, and *outside the bathroom* (hope you don't have hip-height kids)

you have to "clamp" your bus tickets like a time-card: holes are bus-specific

walking by parked cars? there's often people in them

everyone has cell phones. I mean this literally.

windows open at the top, not just the side

all four wheels are turnable on shopping carts

your heating depends on everyone else

there are no driers; my washing machine cycle is 2h 45m

very little public conversation, and it's never "boisterous"

the air is wet

the countryside is beautiful

potato farmers! using tractors and horses

van taxis, aka "pocket rockets"

pointed dress shoes... for guys

wedding procession? Must be a Saturday.

high heels are the rule... cobblestones nothing!

my ATM advises me to "keep your money in a secret"...

which is good for PIN codes too, cause there's no personal space in lines...

which you're often waiting in: cashiers insist on exact change... often plucking it from offered hands

"Iki" - the grocery store name that means "see you later!"

female janitors in male bathrooms... common occurrence! I mean really, mopping under my stall? LEAVE ME MY DIGNITY!

the sport is basketball, not hockey

fried stale-bread sticks and garlic... with cheese

1%? 2%? nope! sour cream is 35%! (or more)

your milk is already expired

...unless it came in a box, in which case it expires in two years... unless you open it, then two days

pizza sauce tastes like ketchup, but so does everything else

sandwich meat: roast beef? chicken? turkey? nope. ham.

pork!

cabbage!

potatos!

(beef? chicken?)

there's no such thing as fast food

there's no such thing as preservatives (yet fridges are either nearly empty or... not there)

there's no thing so good as the bacon here... it's almost Canadian Back

missing: oh, baby carrots, syrup, dill pickles, salsa, roast anything, a big, juicy burger...

wooden booths to change in on the sand at the beach... hope you don't mind showing your ankles!

nude beaches... sure, what's so funny?

trunks? nope, speedos only

two words: sauna, snow

I know, I know: "there's a lot more!" or, "that's not true!" but hey, give a guy a break. I miss you too.

My Partners in Crime

2005-11-07T11:22:00.000-06:00

As promised, several more photos are up over on my Flickr account. Here are some of the highlights.

First, a trip to Ramsiske and Kaunas in October. Ramsiske is a heritage village along the lines of Doon in Kitchener-Waterloo, only much bigger (park size). In other words, buildings and terrain are left as they were in much older times, concrete paths lead visitors from farm to farm (to windmill), and during the summer people live there in the old ways... kind of an open-air museum. At Ramsiske, the walking paths lead to several different landscapes; the unique geography reflects all four major regions of Lithuania. The place was definitely a time-warp: the dark bogs made believing in witches suddenly seem less preposterous, and I would not have been surprised if Teutonic knights had burst from the trees to raze the windmill:

Ramsiske

Having the use of a coach bus for the day, our scattered collection of faculty then went to tour Kaunas. But first we visited Fort IX, the last and best-known "political prison" in Lithuania. The prison was a major part of Lithuania's execution of over one hundred thousand Jews in WWII; ethnic cleansing was at its most effective in the Baltic countries, behind only Poland. The experience was another moving one, and touring the grounds with my friend Rina (both of whose grandparents had escaped the Kaunas ghetto) only made it more tangible. I think I understood the persecution in my own family a bit better. I didn't have my camera, but Jen took a poignant shot of the powerful memorial erected on the hill outside the prison:

Memorial at Fort IX

The jagged concrete branches are turned into faces and fists, thrusting from the ground in pain and defiance. A difficult event to remember, but the memorial seemed fitting to me.

******

After several more teaching-packed weeks, fall break finally arrived. I don't remember the first three days, cause I was pretty much sleeping, but after that short recovery time, I was ready for action again. On Tuesday a few of the faculty that hadn't gone anywhere extravagant (yet) travelled to Kretinga for All Saints' Day. In Lithuania, All Saints' Day (Nov. 1) is a national holiday where the deceased are remembered with flowers, candles, and prayers. The cemetaries were full, though the sun was bright and the prevailing mood did not seem melancholic. We stopped by a Franciscan church that several LCC faculty had attended before on the way:

Franciscan Church, Kretinga

My own tour was... extensive. There are far too many cool old buildings to explore!

******

And finally, after all the options had come and gone with various degrees of planning and politics, I walked into the Eurolines office and bought a bus ticket to Berlin. What a deeply amazing city. The people, architecture, history... it was a wonderful few days. Maybe it's the German in my background, but I felt very comfortable there--I could definitely see myself living in Berlin at some point. The Pergamon Museum (excavations of antiquity), Berggruen Museum (private art collection, friend of Picasso's, included Matisse and Klee in addition to an astonishing number of orginal Picasso works), and a lot of glorious walking filled my time. I took many pictures, but really, I just wish you could be seeing it with me!

Underneath Berlin

Tiergarten in Autumn

The Parliamentary Chambers from Above

My Partners in Crime

Now it's back to marking (sorry, "grading," as my American friends insist) and other teaching adventures. It looks as though I'll be teaching 20th Century Literature and Public Speaking next term, so hey! Let's just keep mixing it up :)

2005-11-06T10:38:00.000-06:00

The ashes of several discarded drafts sift behind me in the swirl of my furious passing. Yet the silence must be broken.

I have been busy. Since I have last written I have become a Lithuanian Business Consultant, watched autumn march across the Baltic states, touched ruins of the Berlin wall, marked papers, trod through the Ishtar gate of Babylon, shared smiles with Cameron Diaz, travelled Poland, breathed on the brushstrokes of a private collection of over 80 Picasso originals, read A.S. Byatt's "Possession," gazed on the churches of Riga, graded exams, joined a procession for the dead on All Saint's Day, trespassed the steeple of a Franciscan cathedral, tripped over love, stood on Lithuania's Hill of Crosses, passed under a Quadriga claimed by both Napolean and Hitler, read Alfred Senn's "Lithuania Awakening," prayed for sanity, slept on the park bench of a Prussian King, wrote a letter, and had my hair cut by a friend.

Which of these is untrue? I challenge you to prove false even one. Which of these is the most unlikely? Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, slightly demonic-looking, Cameron Diaz on an escalator (far left):

Cameron Diaz

And the carpet she walked in on:

The crowds came later

I am quickly outpacing (have long outpaced?) my ability to keep up the documentation of these events, but I will do my utmost to get more pictures up at least. I have somehow managed to stand strong before an onslaught of emails--even returning most of them--so if there's a specific story you'd like to hear, I'd try that route.

Dear reader, this is not to say I've abandoned you. Instead, I will apply my meagre abilities only more strongly on your behalf.

Thanks for all the notes, thoughts, and prayers... considering that the above is about 2% of my life here (teaching being the other 98), you are all that has been keeping me going.

2005-09-21T08:37:00.005-05:00

At the risk of becoming tour-guide Jared, I feel I should mention another moment where my sense of Lithuania experienced a significant shift. We visited an abandoned Soviet missile silo.

Tourist attractions often seem like shortcuts to me, almost a way of cheating. There's a sheen that hints at something slightly distasteful underneath. I guess I'm still swayed by the argument that "raw" truth is somehow more "real." Probably it's just that I'm media-saturated enough to resent manipulation--whatever the case, I prefer to take my experience unfiltered when I can get it.

Sometimes, truly, the mundane is more moving. We turned off on a non-descript gravel road, drove for a while, then hung a right onto a concrete pathway made up of oddly-shaped blocks. "That's for tank treads." Ah, that makes sense--as if the sense it made somehow detracted from the unconcealed military intent.

*******

The silos themselves were carefully unassuming. Again, the field under which lay the facilities and equipment needed to launch four, 72-foot, nuclear-capable rockets within 10 kilometers of a designated target resembled nothing more than a pasture with a few concrete lumps. Only barbed wire remained of what was once a system of guard towers and electronic intrusion detectors.

A Missile Silo Site

We explored the grass and rust of the abandoned field for a while, but when a tour bus showed up the experience took a turn for the surreal. My friend Thor was along and managed to hitch us on to the tour group, which was an odd assortment of older and younger Lithuanians. A youth group of some sort? None of them seemed visibly foreign to me; this was no internationally advertised site. They carried open beer bottles nonchalantly, smoked a cigarette or two, and generally made up the type of wise-cracking, studiously uninterested tour group you see the world over.

*******

There were no safety rails or guideposts, only the stripped-down, swiftly rusting remnants of what was once the focal point of a global tension that skirted some pretty severe consequences. A few remnants of Communist decor and some soldiers' equipment. A uniform and the radio room. The tunnels were damp, the stairs unsafe, and the ladders and platforms precarious.

A Tunnel Underground

A Crumbling Doorway

It was small. If you were to imagine being stationed there, it would seem claustrophobic, boring, and humming with a slightly hysterical tension, all at the same time. Walking through the rooms was a bit easier to grasp, something one could probably get used to, but the greater significance of the place was difficult to ignore.

Standing at the Lip

The silos themselves were full of water... ground seepage due to the lack of maintenance. Surprisingly, the site was operational as late as 1978. Indeed, the compass markings on the metal housing were still clear, and as we circled the lip of the silo it was easy to imagine the soldiers and engineers clambering around, keeping everything working. The group was jocular (though when some joker turned out the lights the collective gasp was perhaps a touch more frightened then it could have been), and Thor translated some of the facts the guide was sharing. Peering through the rusty grating underfoot and tapping the metal to hear the boom was quite the experience, especially surrounded by a foreign language in a context out of some disconnected past.

*******

But the truly sublime moment came when some of the men began singing a foreign anthem in their deepest and most operatic baritone. Many of the others joined in. I don't know what the song meant to them, and I suppose I never will, but hearing their voices echoing through the crumbling chambers--the container of what was once the delivery system of human-engineered, large-scale destruction--struck a chord somewhere deep, deep inside.

Orvidas' house

2005-09-11T18:58:00.000-05:00

Has it really only been three and a half weeks? Extraordinary. Something about traveling makes life seem more intense... the past few weeks still seem vivid, full.

And by full I mean busy. Whew. In the past ten days I've taught my first ever university classes, toured the countryside, succeeded in purchasing a cell-phone (but not yet an umbrella), and finally (hopefully) figured out a bus/food/sleep/prep schedule that won't leave me curled up on the floor of my office sleeping for a few captured moments between lesson plans. I mean sure, I knew teaching was a lot of work, but this? Okay, so it's not that bad, but I'm finding that the learning curve is steep and the constant pressure to keep the quality lecture output going will take some getting used to. Tonight, the prospect sounds like a rush... last Wednesday? Not so much.

Still, in between the fourteen some-odd hour workdays, the staff has been conspiring to snatch as much time as possible away from the LCC bubble in order to capture more pieces of Lithuania. It's one of those cases where the more you learn, the less you know--a slow, complex realization. Someone used the phrase "subtle beauty" in describing Lithuania, and that has proven itself true to me several times over in the last few days.

The first real cultural heritage site I visited said "Orvidu Sodyba - Muziejus" on the sign at the entrance. Hidden away in the countryside is a small farmstead owned by the late Vilius Orvidas. Originally a monk, the Soviet occupation forced him to abandon monkhood and take up a trade; he chose to carve wood and rock sculptures for gravestone markers. However, in the collection of sculptures he kept in his yard he hid Christian artwork salvaged from local cemeteries: cemeteries being taken down under Soviet rule.

The resulting collection is moving: haphazard, unorganized (perhaps by some unknown system?)... a strangely fitting setting for both salvaged and self-taught art. Tourist books give it several monikers: "The Absurd Town," "open-air museum," but none of them do it justice. To come across an old woman in her garden, supported by those who pay a few litas to see the work of someone from her past, is a humbling collision of histories.

The original farmhouse:

Orvidas' home.

Many of the carvings blend naturally into their surroundings:

A Tree-Person

Others are forgotten in untidy corners:

Tucked Away

And some seem to whisper at the intrusion:

Up to no good.

We spent a long time clambering over rocks and under logs that were notched and decorated with metal and greenery. As we left, we took some final pictures: of a tank that had been abandoned in a nearby ditch after WWII and placed near the entrance of the museum. To someone from the dusty openness of Canadian prairie, this culture seems rich, sombre, and deeply layered.

Vestiges

2005-08-22T04:08:00.000-05:00

Palanga Beach, Lithuania.

After a whirlwind week of orientation, and a sacrificial Saturday at the office, Casey, Anna, Jen, Rebecca, Pisey, and I took a Lithuanian mini-bus (combines the best of both taxis and mini-buses: looking somewhat like a North American van for the handicapped, it has around 10 airplane-style seats and can be flagged down anywhere though it follows bus-like routes) up to Palanga on Sunday afternoon. The weather had been extraordinarily sunny and warm all week, and everyone in Lithuania seemed to be taking advantage... we decided to join them, and sure enough, the beaches were in full celebration.

A characteristic shot of the Soks on the mini-bus:

Pisey and Rebecca Sok

One of many booths lining the streets of Palanga. Marching bands and bike-taxis also lent themselves to the festival atmosphere.

Knick-Knack Stand

This was our first sign that things were going to be busy:

Following the heat

And boy, were they:

Palanga Beach, Lithuania

Still, we managed to find a spot and spent the afternoon lounging around and playing cards. I got a swim or two in as well, and while no one believed me, the water was much warmer than both the Great Lakes and Lake Winnipeg. It wasn't a private party, but with cold weather coming by all accounts, we made the most of the undeniable heat.

2005-08-19T07:21:00.000-05:00

And I'm in Lithuania. Just like that. Sit on a chair for a while, wander around Frankfurt airport, sit on a chair for a while, wander around Vilnius airport, sit on a chair for a while, say hi to your new apartment. Easy. Sure, the chairs move and there's talking and people and movies and sleeping and the lack thereof, but hey, pretty soon it's 11am and you're eating lunch under the midday sun even though your body is simultaneously thinking "It's three AM!" and "I need to run around!" while random hitch-hikers eat cold, pink borscht and say things you only hope aren't either racial slurs or comments about the city you're planning to spend the next year in.

It's great here though. At least, the transition is eased in every way possible and everything seems full of potential for both challenge and reward. I keep hearing the phrase "honeymoon period" (in the culture shock sense of the phrase), but even filtering for that there are lots of things to get excited about. Or perhaps simply be deeply appreciative and thankful for. For instance, I'm sharing an apartment with a student-life coordinator named Casey--he's a great guy, and the only creature comforts we're missing are a washing machine and a clothes drier. Everything is new (our kitchen was put in on Wednesday), shiny, and ready to be transformed into a comfortable space to refresh and recharge. Sure, the prevailing attitude toward our 25 minute walk to work will fluctuate, and downtown is another 25 minutes past the college, but it's quiet, private, and our landlady speaks English, which puts us a few steps ahead of most of our colleagues.

Colleagues. Yes, suddenly I'm part of a faculty. The faculty. My faculty. It's great: the nature of LCC's location means that there is an extraordinarily deep and dynamic group of people serving here. Orientation is come and gone, and by the time jet-lag has done the same all of my new problems like pronouncing names and oh, you know, teaching, will have at least partially seeped into my brain. But the knowledge that everyone else here has made similar choices and faces similar challenges makes my own situation seem a little less farfetched. As in, *of course* there are people that turn down high-paying positions to go and volunteer in a small Eastern European country at an even smaller Christian university where one in four staff have never *been* to Lithuania before let alone taught there. Some of those people have four kids under the age of eleven. And brought them. It's a wonderful and vibrant alternative way of thinking about work, and it moves beyond the ruts and tracks of our usual attitude toward stability and our dependence on it into a deeper understanding of community and how we should be using our gifts. It also provides a lot to think about when I should be preparing my next lesson plan.

There are already a million other details I'm not including (from food to transportation) that all seem new and different, but even when those things fade or become annoying there is a richness here that I'm looking forward to exploring. And finally, it's great to be actually starting after all the emotional and mental questioning and preparation; from here on in it's the crunch of day-to-day and all the mood swings and reliance that comes with it. Once again I find myself in a place I could never have imagined or planned on my own; in a year's time, who knows what God will have taught me... or what he has planned for me next.