Random musings from Holland
This weekend, I left my missionary friends, the Thomassens, and moved to a hotel, since they had already been expecting other visitors this week. For those of you who have faithfully read my blogs this whole past year, I am back in the hotel that was a Franciscan monastery, where I first started my blog. It's historic! Last year I mentioned the sparse accomodations here, in true monastic fashion, but this year, it's much worse. I am in a cell, I mean room, that is 6 feet by 8 feet! Other than the bed, there is a small tray that folds down from the wall where I can eat, type on my laptop, or work on schoolwork. It is slightly larger than one foot square. I have a sink and shower, in a little closet. Each floor shares a bathroom. I can hardly move in the room with my duffel bag and my stuff, so I keep escaping to the lounge with nice chairs and tables. It also has a full wet bar, but I don't know how the monks handled that, ha ha!
I saw a toddler with wooden shoes on Sunday at church. They were painted red with black polka-dots, and she was just as steady in those wooden shoes as any other child would be in normal shoes. I think that was the first actual Dutch person I’ve ever seen wearing their famed wooden shoes.
I also saw a plethora of windmills on Sunday.
I found a bagel shop yesterday morning while I was out walking around just to see what I could see. This was very exciting for me, because months ago, I was in the mood to eat a bagel, and they can’t really be found in France. For months, I’ve been craving bagels, probably because I couldn’t have one. So, tonight after class, I stopped in to get one for dinner, and it tasted perfect! I never thought I’d find bagels in Amsterdam.
The newspaper reporter that I mentioned in my last post did show up yesterday for class, but he was alone—no Muslims with him. Our class discussed common questions/problems Muslims have with Christianity, for example: the concept of the Trinity, or the “corrupted” passages of the Bible. This was presented with both the Koranic references and the Biblical passages that can be used for defense. Our class welcomed the reporter and he was very pleasant—not aggressive at all—and promised an advance copy tomorrow (I think). The story should come out next week, I assume. All the staff of the Bible College seemed to feel that we did the best we could with our presentation, being tactful and gracious about our Muslim neighbors, but without wimping out on our beliefs.
Since nearly everyone in Holland speaks English, I got the bright idea to get my hair cut here. It’s really hard for me to describe what I want to hairstylists in France. I just don’t know all the vocabulary in French (layered, bangs, cowlick, etc.) and haircuts are pretty specific things. In fact, my sister-in-law’s mom, Marilyn Stevens, has been my hairstylist for the past six years at least. I hesitate to let anyone mess up her work, but I found a shop yesterday and made an appointment for Friday. The guy I talked to seemed to understand me pretty well, but his English was poor whenever he answered me. He gave me his card as I left and later when I read it, I realized why—he’s French! So much for my grand plan; I’ll see on Friday what happens.
I also saw a plethora of windmills on Sunday.
I found a bagel shop yesterday morning while I was out walking around just to see what I could see. This was very exciting for me, because months ago, I was in the mood to eat a bagel, and they can’t really be found in France. For months, I’ve been craving bagels, probably because I couldn’t have one. So, tonight after class, I stopped in to get one for dinner, and it tasted perfect! I never thought I’d find bagels in Amsterdam.
The newspaper reporter that I mentioned in my last post did show up yesterday for class, but he was alone—no Muslims with him. Our class discussed common questions/problems Muslims have with Christianity, for example: the concept of the Trinity, or the “corrupted” passages of the Bible. This was presented with both the Koranic references and the Biblical passages that can be used for defense. Our class welcomed the reporter and he was very pleasant—not aggressive at all—and promised an advance copy tomorrow (I think). The story should come out next week, I assume. All the staff of the Bible College seemed to feel that we did the best we could with our presentation, being tactful and gracious about our Muslim neighbors, but without wimping out on our beliefs.
Since nearly everyone in Holland speaks English, I got the bright idea to get my hair cut here. It’s really hard for me to describe what I want to hairstylists in France. I just don’t know all the vocabulary in French (layered, bangs, cowlick, etc.) and haircuts are pretty specific things. In fact, my sister-in-law’s mom, Marilyn Stevens, has been my hairstylist for the past six years at least. I hesitate to let anyone mess up her work, but I found a shop yesterday and made an appointment for Friday. The guy I talked to seemed to understand me pretty well, but his English was poor whenever he answered me. He gave me his card as I left and later when I read it, I realized why—he’s French! So much for my grand plan; I’ll see on Friday what happens.