Dear Grandchildren,
You know how the old saying goes for being overwhelmed, "Drinking from a fire hose?" That’s a perfect description for how my first week went in the intensive Turkish class. Even if you figuratively try to close your mouth, you can’t. Everything comes at high speed and does not diminish one tiny bit. The scene which tells it all for me came during the last hour on early Friday afternoon. A Chinese woman, who seems to inhale the language, and I were paired by the teacher for a short conversation that grew out of what we had "learned" during the week. For some odd reason, I didn’t get the jump on her. Instead, I was slow to the punch and she began to ask me questions. Simple questions. But my brain was cramping big time. She would ask a question and I struggled and struggled to think of an answer in Turkish, let alone say any words that could be remotely thought of as an answer. As soon as she paused, in my weird exhaustion I blurted out a question so that she finally had to answer. Ahhhh. That felt much better. I was doing the short part — asking the question — and she was doing the hard part — formulating an answer. Naturally, because she is such a natural, she just rang out the answers as fast as I could think of something to ask. To everyone in the class, it must have been comical to see my woefully weak interaction with her strong, solid grasp of things.
One of the nice elements in my class consists of three students who all graduated from Cal Berkeley. They are from southern California and I happened to say that I had graduated from Cal. They immediately jumped on our college connection. Even if I struggle, I still have some caché with those three.
My birthday was wonderful. I heard from a lot of family members and a couple of friends. I was really touched. Grandma and I went out to dinner at a restaurant that had been recommended by an acquaintance who lives in the city. The taste was very good, the amount was modest at best, and the price was right up there in the stratosphere. The whole experience would have been fine except for one thing. We chose to be seated inside the restaurant where no smoking is allowed. At least, that is what two posted signs say. (People who sit outside in the nice evening air are allowed to smoke, and do.) But some older gentleman, who was sitting with another three older gentlemen, lit up. Whaaaat? I thought. So we said something to the waiter. He went to the old man (he is no longer a gentleman in my book) and asked him to stop. He responded, we were told, that it is hard to get around and he is old. Before we left, he had lit his second cigarette. We shall vote with our feet and not go back. The next time I see my acquaintance, I shall tell him of our experience in a restaurant that he recommended.
I have changed where I walk in the mornings from the waterfront to a nearby park. One word describes my reason — dogs. The last time I walked along the bay, a second pack of dogs ran at me. I decided to switch places. So I have been looking for a stick. I bought a cheap umbrella in the old market. The fellow who sold it to me went on and on about how sturdy the most expensive umbrella was. When I didn’t buy it, he launched into how fine the more expensive umbrella was, showing me how sturdy the metal pieces were underneath the umbrella’s fabric. I bought the cheap one. All I wanted was something to swat a nasty dog. We went with my first counselor Saturday to a little, picturesque village in the mountains and I spotted a nice stick. It is three feet long and is just the thing for swatting if I feel cornered. Hooray, now I am ready. But I haven’t seen any dogs in the park in the mornings. Mostly cats and kittens. But call me semper paratus, "always prepared," the motto of the US Coast Guard.
I should really be studying. But I want to write to you. On Sunday we shall host our first guests from out of the country. I shall write to you more about it next week. It will involve a trip to Ephesus. We shall see whether my preparation pays off in making the visit more interesting, especially pulling in more connections to the world of the New Testament. During this month, we are looking forward to two baptisms, one in the branch of a boy who lives almost four hours away but whose mother and aunt are diligent about holding a Primary each Sunday. The other will be of a sibling of two YA church members. They are all being taught via Skype. Cool. What is the expression? "By small means ..."
I love you and pray for each of you every day.
Grandpa Brown
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