Love and Lies in the COOP Carpark

I am learning Romanian.

Luckily it is quite similar to French. I hope to be able to have a bit of a conversation with my fat friend who sits outside the COOP sometime before I leave.

I know it sounds pretty judgmental, but when she tells me she has 4 children and a dead husband it sounds so convenient. I mean, that's a great testimony for a beggar lady, right? Perfect sob story. OK, that last paragraph sound terrible and it was mostly designed to shock. My point here is, apart from the fact that I am a bit of a bitch and too tired to know if this is pushing the boundaries too much, I don't tend to believe people that are asking me for money on the street.

But, the thing is. It is OK if they lie. Infact, it is OK if anyone lies to me. I am not going to mind and my default position will probably be to believe you even if it is ridiculous. I don't mind the fact that I am gullible. The decision I have come to is this: as long as it won't break my heart I don't have a problem believing you. That extends to personal safety I suppose but is far less day to day. The point is, I don't have time or right to judge and question everything someone says. If it is important I will do so, else feel free. My hope is to try and show love to people despite whether they are being honest or kind of anything else like that. So feel free to scam me out of money or time or anything else I don't value spiritually. I will still feel like I was doing my bit as Jesus-the-first-time-round and you can take the crap when He comes back.

Plus, I kinda feel like if I learn Romanian they will find it harder to lie to me. I mean, everyone has a level of guilt right? I am just trying to tap into their; play them at their own game!

Seriously though. Beggars are people too and I am trying to get past my capitalist middle class attitude that gets pissed at a system that will never really shit on my affluent parade 'cause I will never really have any problems in that area and if I did, maybe I'd appreciate the help. I think that we are all identical particles put into different forcefields and shooting in a multitude of directions. Who knows what their next resultant force will be...?

Carrots vs Confusion

When it comes to carrots things are pretty easy. You can eat them whole or in sticks, boiled steamed or stir fried, long or round, grated in a salad, dipped in a dip, curried or mashed, as soup or even juiced. I have tried quite a few of these already (I would estimate my carrot intake today to be 6 but I am persevering for more) and intend to make my way through them all.

But there are so many ways to be a Christian, and not all of them are compatible at all. Recently my biggest issue is to do with things of a "spiritual" nature. I use speech marks not 'cause I am being patronising but 'cause lots of things are of a spiritual nature and I am trying to differentiate about issues of demons and angels and all that jazz.

This I think can be demonstrated by the following example, taken from a conversation I was having this afternoon. Satan. Now, fortunately I started the sentence with the name which meant I didn't have to face the question of whether or not it ought to be capitalised. I read a post on Stuff Christian's Like (which is a pretty cool blog when I get round to reading it. You know how some people are more listeners and some more talkers, well I am a blog writer rather than reader... make your mind up what that says about having a conversation with me!) ages ago about this once but I couldn't find it again to give you the link. It doesn't really matter 'cause my feelings on it are much less formed and I am more confused than amused.

The question is, does it give more recognition to the devil (that is not a proper noun so I can rest easy) to capitalise the 'S' or to forsake accuracy for the sake of reducing the value of the word?

And that is where I am at. I am a pretty open minded lady and I have no problem believing in a spiritual realm that overlaps with the physical. We are physical beings and as such there is an effect from the unseen on the seen. I also think there is an effect from the seen on the unseen that my frustration a few days ago is testimony to (see 10 Things I Hate About [insert just about anything here right now]), where my tiredness and unbalanced body left me verging on a depressive episode and I really had to slow down and recoup whilst at the same time praying God's rule over my life (seeing as I had inadvertently let this slip when I was physically under par (isn't that a good thing is golf? What a funny expression.)).

But then I wonder, can we give too much space to worrying about what Satan can do? I mean, call him satan and you are recognising that you are not comfortable to the point of compromising grammar, leaving space for a fear of attack - and we all know that God in the only one to fear.

Words are powerful. But then, so is God. I think He is more powerful so I have nothing to fear... right...?

There exist so many different ideas and, unlike ways to serve carrots, some of them have to be wrong. Like, can we say or do things that bring down 'badness' on our lives? Do generational curses still exist? Or is it all covered by the blood of Jesus without any further issue except perhaps in the most extreme cases? And what is a most extreme case anyway...?

It makes me, as a scientist, very uncomfortable. I want evidence and as I may have mentioned before it took a huge step of faith to accept, well faith. My only axiom is the bible/The Bible and I don't even know the grammatically-spiritually correct way to write that. Do I next have to start accepting/rejecting all sorts of other theologies that I can't see explicitly answered therein? For now at least I just can't do it, so I'm gonna stick with God's love and The Word and hope/trust that by giving my days to Him I am covering all my bases.

I wish it was all about carrots.

P.S. Input welcome at this point by the way...

10 Things I Hate About [insert just about anything here right now]

I am in a bit of a shit mood. Thus I shall fulfill the venting element of my relationship with BGB.

For starters, I just knocked two really pretty expensive (well, one did not cost a lot but it is worth a lot I just know how to shop well; note also that price is relative and I am a student!) delicate beaded dresses on top of a really pretty dried (not dead) 'strawberry blonde' rose, thus endangering the two and destroying the latter which by the way was the last one of a really pretty bunch given to me on my birthday.

Plus I am really tired even though I slept 12 hours last night. I feel like I never really woke up properly today and thus am worrying that I am foreseeing a difficult recovery from the past week and will inevitably be hurtled into busy life again before I am ready to be, which in turn will result in the crazy scary mean Kat(i)e who does not live in the full glory of God but stumbles through in the dark and doesn't even know how to get back to light. I have too much to do this week to not be OK for it!

The weather just turned cold and none of my jeans fit me anymore :-(

I am losing my voice which is making speaking and singing and well, all kinds of communication, impossible/very hard, painful and tiring.

I made lots of bad choices today resulting in feeling like nothing was productive, everything took longer than it should, I ate too much crap, spent too much money and interacted poorly with people I didn't know. Leaving me feeling like a spazzock and that I wasted a day that was supposed to be really cool (just 'cause days are these days) but wasn't.

The biggest bummer is that at the time I wasn't even able to see what was wrong and only realised everything too late which means that it couldn't have been any different anyways. I don't quite know where I went wrong as I was trying to rest and thought I had done so but my brain is not functioning properly implying that I haven't. Maybe I didn't stop soon enough and so it will take a while to get back to top form but I am a little bit worried that I never will and being fuzzy in the head is not a very nice feeling when you are supposed to be processing things.

All in all I am pissed off 'cause yesterday life rocked and now things have changed so quickly, without anything specific actually being wrong even. I suppose that being tired and sick and confused will do that to oneself but it just sucks that I can lose track of joy when it was so very profound.

In good things I found another suitcase in the street, which will come in handy when my friends come over and take back stuff for me. But it is not leopard print so it doesn't really count for much more than neutral.

I feel like a bit of a bitch to everyone I hung out with today! I'm not saying you were a waste of time, just me that's all. Hopefully there will be progress before the YAGs BBQ/pool party tomorrow else I will be a sulky cow and probably have a hissy fit. Could be interesting but not ideal.

On that note bed calls...

P.S. For those who thought "raised to the ground" was a strange phrase actually it is not. The word is "razed" and it originates in latin - think erase. You might still think it's strange but at least you can spell it now!

Amazing Hostel

When that is the name of the place you are staying, and said residence is costing 16 Euros for 2 nights, you may be astute enough to not have high expectations. You would be wrong, this is by far THE most wonderful place I have ever lived and am comparing with my own home, that of my parents and all 5 star Swiss chalet hotels in Gstaad (check me out!).

I was not planning on blogging this evening. At the very least I may have made a note in my journal. I am however so totally impressed with ALL Hungarian folk that I simply had to share the smile with you all.

I arrived well after 930 (local time) after a delay and what not. The airport tourist office advised me to get a 22 Euro shuttle to my hostel but given that I was only going to be here till Tuesday morning (and it was overpriced) I decided I simply had to do it properly. Train, tram and wondering the streets...

My phone battery was dead along with the hostel address so I had to find someone to help me briefly charge it, though only long enough to get the street name. No matter, I was all about being alone and independent in the streets of Budapest. This, I have decided, is the best way to be. There is nothing more exciting than the moment you step into a new place without a clue what you are going to do next, no money and no language skills...

Within minutes a lady on the train was helping me identify my stop. She taught me how to say thank you, I still can't do it but atleast I am trying and I wrote it down so I could practise. At the trolley bus a girl came and asked me if I was ok after she witnessed me endlessly pouring change into the ticket machine (running to the shops halfway through to get more) and stamping my feet in mock frustration. I ended up paying more than the price of a ticket but with nothing to prove as such. All was well though, she assured me they would not check and it was true. In the time I was waiting for my tram to turn up (not including the two that had passed while I faffed about) another lady asked me if I needed help. Atlteast, I think she did - She didn't speak English so I wasn't sure what was going on but there was lots of smiling and pointing at my map which then induced the fourth one so far to offer me assistance. Hence, I like Hungarians. I am also going to firmly believe that it is not just 'cause I look perpetually gormless.

Anyway, mum. I have arrived safe and sound at my AMAZING hostel and am all clean from the best shower I've had in a long time (this could be rose tinted from the fact I was really dirty). It's tucked away inside a really big half derelict old building which even at night is amazing and I think I may cry when I see it in the morning. The staff and resident residents are very friendly and the first conversation they were having was about where in Switzerland the Euro was being held - I think I may know that one (aside: how glad am I not to be there this week...).

I wasn't really hungry (I'd bought a wierd savoury croissant to break a note. I think it may have had ham in which may or may not have been cooked) but one of the residents offered me a glass of wine (gladly recieved) and a a whole pizza (politely refused and then forced upon me until I ate a slice and now feel kinda sick). He is sweet but I not totally convinced by sincerity of friendliness. Maybe wearing a ring on my wedding finger is not enough... Oh well, I turned down the offer (thrice and counting) of him going out to buy more wine and think perhaps if I continue to refuse the dinner invite I will be OK! Arggh, getting into scrapes before I even start. It is ok to lie in this situation isn't it (insert question mark here). I mean, I try to just say no but sometimes I don't think it qualifies as an answer.

Well, I feel totally blessed and protected right now so I sure it will be fine. Roll on walking tours and Hungarian cuisine (what do they eat here anyway QQ).

Laters!

Another thing about French Class

I don't know what I have said about my French teacher but she is called Bee and she is Great! We met a few weeks after I came to Geneva and she offered really early on to give me lessons for free: one of the many wonderful things that happened surround my departure/arrival that pointed me towards the big JC (Jesus Christ not Johnny Cash, who is by the way the medium JC).

Anyway, Bee has had an amazing life. She was a really '68er and, well let's just say she has some stories. I should get her to write a blog it would be much more interesting than mine. Bee is also a German, though her French is totally perfect and her grammar much better than most actual French people (I am so not the one to talk!).

Her English is pretty amazing too; occasionally I teach her new words but only colloquially (that's fun), or the correct pronunciation of manure. There is one thing that she says though, or the manner in which she says it, which stands out every time. Sometimes when you translate things there is a bit of a gap between the languages and the intended message does not come across quite as it might in it's native tongue. For example, I am apparently a REAL freak. Sincerely and honestly; but it's OK 'cause she likes freaks. As time has passed I've established that there are a good many of us, herself included, that fit into this category; and decided that I quite like the definition.

I admit though, tonight I was thrown. I was wearing my hair slightly differently (face-length bob with a fringe right now and I had a half french plait, for those that care) and had on brown and gold tones. Bee always like to comment (with absolute truth) on my appearance and today she looked at me totally shocked and delighted and said:
"You look really pretty. Strange that you look so nice!"

Thanks.

Now, I am not totally insecure and I have been there with the linguistic short-fallings before, so it was mostly just amusing that even as the evening wore on I was getting occasional glances and the odd reiterated "Amazing, really amazing".

Is it that shocking to you?!

My favourite is when she tells me she doesn't like what I am wearing; or what I was wearing at church last week. I feel it's important, particularly when I am getting the magnitude of compliments I was tonight, that they always come with this healthy pinch of salt. The "I love your outfit today" is so often followed up with a "Shame you weren't wearing it on Sunday" that I can't ever become vain.

Thanks for helping me keep it real!