My last night, but not my last blog.

Okay. Honestly people, I don't feel enlightened at the moment. This is most likely caused by the frustration that I'm not sure I'll be able to fit everything into my suitcase, the anxiety that comes with the thought of a 20 hour day of travel tomorrow and the fact that before I knew it, my time in Athens was over.

I had my last tea house today. It was rough, but I don't think it's all going to hit me for about another week when I desire to kiss those cheeks, chase those kids and smell the smell of Athens. It is then that I will be able to wrap up my feelings and my thoughts. My exhaustion at the moment really is a good sign I believe.

At this morning's devotions I shared what my father shared with me in my encouragement journal for this trip. It was relevant for our ministry here in Athens and so I'd like to share it with you.

An Eschatological Vision by Dr. Lyle VanderWerff

A vision I have of earth’s inhabitants
The world made whole; humanity healed
Sons and daughters reconciled to God and their neighbors
Brothers and sisters gather round the Messiah’s banquet.

Broken, bleeding, fragmented though created to be related
Image of God on human face scarred, marred, disgraced
Serpent’s subtle lie bought; sin’s sickness caught
Sexuality, love, labor lost; earth’s terrible cost.

Towers mortared, nations scattered; severed, shaken, shattered
Yet Yahweh’s covenant calls to patriarch, prophet, peoples
New community generated; family with faith imbued
Prototype of true humanity; transcending ethnic boundary

Humans of the globe unite; your liberator resurrected lives
Good news breaks the dawn with rising sun earth wakes
A glorious kingdom comes; join the ranks of vision
Pilgrims moving with mission; international host of Christ

Amen. Expect a lengthy blog once I get my bearings back in the states. But until then, I want to say thank you. Thank you for reading, for encouraging and most of all for praying. I am certain that this experience would have not been so life-inspiring for me if it was not for the support I had back home. I cannot wait to share my stories and pictures with all of you.

Pray for safe travel and a joyous reunion with all my family back in Denver while also remembering all my refugee friends who will be attempting to blend in with the tourists and make it to their next stop on the highway.

Now it's bathroom cleaning time.... See you in the good ol' U S of A!

Blondes and Almira

Yesterday was my last Shower Day. At the beginning of my time I don't think I would ever say that showers were the day of the week I ever looked forward to. It gets so hot with three showers running constantly for 4 hours straight and children running around and tea being brewed, but yesterday I decided that it was showers that helped me connect on a different level to these women and children.

We decided to go to the ARC earlier yesterday, 12:30, so we could lay out pairs of shoes for the women to rummage through. When we arrived the majority of the women were already upstairs ready to shower even though showers don't technically start until 2:00. They so look forward to this time that they're waiting and ready by 11. We got started early, which was a good thing because yesterday seemed to be one of those crazy days. The kids were just incredibly hyper and everyone seemed to be in genuine good spirits which meant lots of laughter.

Much of the conversation centered around the fact that two of my friends, 'R' and 'A' had dyed their hair the night before. At tea house on Tuesday I had noticed that they were doing a lot of pointing to my own, blonde hair, but I hadn't put it together that they would be attempting the same color job I wear myself. These beautifully dark brown haired women didn't have the exact results, obviously. The story, told in Farsi of course but easily translated, was one that I've lived through many times myself. They told of the shrieks they had when they washed the peroxide out only to discover that their hair was a bright orange. They laughed and laughed, and looked at my hair and shook their heads.
R and A are two of my favorite women (I know, I have a lot of favorites). R is the woman I described on an earlier post as the woman who fainted out of exhaustion and potential concussion at a previous Shower Day. She's 24 years old and has two beautiful little girls. 'A', 28, was pregnant with her third child when I first met her. I love holding her newborn son, plastic bag diaper and all. Both are wonderful mothers and show so much love to their children. R and A plan to attempt a trip to Italy in the coming week. I can't imagine traveling with five children, but they are strong, so strong. Looking back on this experience I know that my thoughts and memories will always rest on the refugees and the global issue that remains as this mass movement of people simply cannot be ignored. However, there is one person placed into my life that I will never forget, either. My roommate, Almira.

I've written about her before, but I just want to emphasize the impact she's had on my life. Here I was, scared to death and plopped into Athens where I was told I'd be living with this random woman from Russia. Um, okay, I thought. Soon it was me and Almira, trekking around the Mall, the Olympic Stadium and back and forth from work everyday. Initially I was hesitant and wasn't sure if we'd really be able to connect. Almira's English is very good, but there is still translation issues and we couldn't really enjoy the same television shows (even though she loves Friends as much as I do), so building a relationship didn't seem like it would be very easy. With time, I realized that Almira was one of the most amazing people I will ever come in contact with. She cooks for me, teaches me how to cook, tells me when to clean and I tell her where we have to be and when. We make a pretty great team and have an amazing time whenever we're together.

Almira was raised in a Muslim family in Moscow and her parents don't really understand what the heck she's doing here in Athens. She loves her family dearly however, and is the best aunt to her nieces. She lives and moves with the spirit. She's genuine in everything she does. She laughs when things are funny (and sometimes when they're not) and she loves and hugs with such ease. I will look back on our memories with sincere fondness and am so grateful for Skype and Facebook so we will easily stay in contact with each other. Continue to pray for Almira. With the extension of her visa (a serious miracle) she will stay in Athens for another 3 months. I cannot imagine this experience without her. She has taught me so much, how to love and serve and never give up.

She and I stay up late watching YouTube videos. Our favorites are music videos...our favorite song, Be Thou My Vision. Almira sings it in the shower and while washing dishes and if my trip had a soundtrack, this would be the first track. Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYVnd0HaLSc

I'm on my way to debriefing with Carolyn and climbing Lykavitos Hill. Tomorrow is my last tea house and my last day in Athens. Expect a long blog. [Again.] :)

It's the little things that make quite a difference.

We walked into the stoa of our building yesterday without the usual "Ya-sas!" greeting from our security guard, Mohammad. I realized that that small act of Mohammad greeting us and then walking us to our stairs was something I'd simply come to expect when in reality it's something that I should be simply grateful for. I was also a little disappointed because I've been meaning to get a picture of Mohammad for a post just like this one, but with him not there at 10:00 on a Tuesday morning that meant he wouldn't be in for the day.

Mohammad is one of the many people employed as security guards in Greece. Athens has security guards for every store, every building, every metro station...but these people are more than a physical image of security and order and Mohammad has made me realize that.

Mohammad is of North African descent (Egyptian or Moroccan maybe?) and speaks no English, just Greek and Arabic. He's the new security guard for the building that the ARC occupies and he has really become an unofficial and integral member of our team. When the lines get to long, he handles crowd control in the stoa into the street, when we're moving bags of clothing from our downstairs closet upstairs he hops in line and takes a bag, when I'm carrying a very heavy bag from the Nest (a house for new Christian men just down the street) he happily carries up the stairs for me, he knows that Thursdays are women's showers day and so he brings sodas for all the children, when a drunk man urinates all down the stairs he disciplines and then grabs a mop, when we've had a long day and look very hot he insists we sit in his air-conditioned office for a while before we walk to the metro, and even when he's on vacation (like yesterday) he comes up to tea house and greets the refugees and the staff simply because he wants to.

Mohammad represents the type of person that we wish we could be each and everyday. It's those simple acts of kindness, not asked for, not required, but done out of a genuine desire in one's heart. Mohammad is an immediate image of Christ. There's a reason he's the first person seen when anyone comes to the ARC.

My last Sunday. Yikes.

Today was the first of the lasts.

Lee and I attended Second Greek Evangelical Church for the last time this morning. While I will enjoy hearing a sermon in English and not through headphones, there is something about recognizing people and being recognized in a place of worship (especially in a foreign country) that I will miss. Churches are very important for things like that.

After church we hoped to check out the sales at The Mall (you can't blame us for wanting to take a look!). Only Greece closes the mall on Sundays, so we got some pizza and chilled for the rest of the afternoon.

Tonight was Persian Christian Fellowship. Keeping about 25 kids quiet in a room no bigger than my own bedroom would never be on my wish list, but I caught up with some kids I hadn't seen in a few weeks. One girl even had pictures from one of my very first tea houses on her phone. It seemed like forever ago, but that made the feeling of us going way back very real. I had the chance to learn some more Farsi words and phrases. I'm trying to soak up as much as I can in these last days. We went back and forth, them telling me colors in Farsi and Greek and me telling them the names in English and Spanish. It was quite fun. The girls got a real laugh at my attempt to say Would you like to color? in Farsi. Turns out the word for to color and to kill are very similar. Ah, the joy of children's laughter.

I didn't have much to share, but I thought I'd get in even my smallest of thoughts as I finish out my time here. Getting up early to go to Corinth tomorrow...we really don't have a direct route or know much, but wandering around Greece sounds like enough fun to me! :) Don't worry, Dad. I'll be careful. We're just taking the train... :)

Ladies, ladies, ladies

I realized today that while I very much desire to spend time with my friends back at home, it's going to be very difficult to say good-bye to my friends here. I will miss looking at these beautiful faces.

Thursday was a very special Shower Day because we got to pass out some very special underwear in a package that came from Commerce City, CO (thanks, Aunt Jolene!!). The women were giddy and had no problem trying the bras on for size (there is no shame at showers, and that's something we're proud that we can provide).

A few pics:

Before I tell you all about today I would like to note that we saw the new Batman movie here last night (that was Thursday night, a good 24 hours before any of you in the states, booyah!).

But today, Friday, may have been one of my favorite days yet here in Athens.

Today was set aside for a Women's Retreat Day. For men's retreats they are able to go away, out of Athens, but because with women comes children, our plans have to be adjusted. We invited specific women (those whom we have built relationships with recently and who seem curious about who we are as women, but more specifically Christian women). There were 8 women and 14 children total. We all gathered at Donna's house and then sent the children off to the park (not alone, with our short-term team from CA).

You could tell these women were just delighted to be there. They were all wearing make-up and many had on shoes I'd never seen before. They drank their tea and ate their muffins with the most joy I'd ever seen. We had a translator there for the day, so we all made introductions, you know, name, where you're from, how long you've been in Greece. It was at the moment that I said I have a week left that I got that crazy, this really sucks that I have to leave you all, feeling and I don't imagine it going away (ever, if I can help it).

We all fellowshipped with one another, complete with the delayed laughs while words went through translation. We then had time to open up the Bible and talk about God. The theme for the day was HOPE. I was incredibly excited for this because if I were asked to take only one word to describe my life or to live by, it would be hope. So here I was, sitting in Greece, surrounded by these Afghan/courageous/beautiful/intelligent women/mothers/widows and I discovered hope. As 'H' (one of my favorite ladies) openly described how God has shown her hope even in the most desperate of situations I was reminded that even though she (a Muslim) and I (a Christian) have grown up calling God two different names, this one God provides all the same. The sovereign God I believe in is at work in all people. Her words, her wisdom were so encouraging for me...these women get it.

After our bible study we got out beads to make a variety of bracelets, necklaces, you name it. I swear these women have a better eye for colors and patterns than we Americans. With ease they can make necklaces we pay ridiculous amounts of money for in the mall. It's quite impressive. Two of the women who had worked from 8 the night before until 7 in the morning before meeting right away to come to the Women's Day (proof of their excitement) took naps, and I couldn't blame them.

We then left Donna's and met up with the kids to have lunch...a delicious Iranian meal of rice, vegetables and a curry-like (but not curry) chicken. Delicious! More time to fellowship with the women, and I was especially happy to get some time with the kids. It was a wonderful day with friends and fellowship, something everyone can use a little more of.

Also, praises for my roommate Almira who got an extension on her visa! After many days of paperwork, police stations and bank accounts, it's official that she will stay for another 3 months. God is good (and really, a miracle worker).

With a bright hope for tomorrow, I will post again soon.

Journey and Community

An update: 'B' got out of Greece successfully and is currently in France. It appears as though her journey to Belgium is well on its way, but please continue praying, for it is certainly not over yet.

It really is unbelievable the lengths these refugees have to go through in order to escape the violence and poverty that has tormented their home countries. After teaching English on Tuesday I was able to chat with a man from Sudan. College-educated and very good with his conversational English (he learned it all from American movies), this man has dreams of making it to Norway. He made it to Turkey and lived there for 8 months before coming to Greece. He's been here 2 months, but after a failed attempt to get to Italy (by hiding in the storage of a cargo ship) he was fingerprinted and thus has little to no options left. He has decided to look for work and save up the 2000 Euros necessary to get the proper paperwork to leave the country (aka a fake passport).

This is a man who has a degree in communications, can speak two languages and likely had quite the life going for him until all was disrupted and he was forced to uproot. Had he (or any of these refugees) been born in another place and another time, their life would be completely different. Recognizing this, it's hard not to empathize completely and then get totally overwhelmed. I mean, we all have it so good. Life in the US is easy really.

We had lunch with Kallie today, a Greek woman who works at our ministry. Her own father was a refugee from Turkey in the 1920s. His sister died along the way from hunger and then also his father (a Christian minister, he decided to bury a Muslim man who died from cholera because no one else would and died from the same disease just 24 hours later). His mother, once a wealthy woman in her home country, was forced to work as a servant for a Greek family to earn a meal for herself and her son. She talked about how her father came out of something so devastating to realize real success all because his mother decided to make a place for them and they were warmly welcomed into the community.

Kallie reminded us that there must be a reason for this mass movement of people to Greece (estimates say there are now 3 million refugees in Greece, making them a third of the population). Of course, we are not going to grasp why this is all happening, but we must trust that God has a hand in this moment of history. We also have to recognize that while our ministry is here to provide, it is also the responsibility of the community to embrace these strangers and help them to make a their "place". I can't help but think about how I will continue to address these issues when I get home. Who are the refugees, the placeless, those in transition in our own community?

I want to tell you about 'B'.

It was my first day at tea house. I had spent the afternoon with the children, but as that room closed for English class just the main room was open. My only option was to sit with the women and drink tea. All of the sudden I felt like I was the new kid in the cafeteria...frightening. I took a seat along the wall where the women gather. After a short time, one woman (we'll call her B) took a seat next to me and began to converse with me in the very little English she knew. We exchanged names and places of origin, but that's really as far as we could go. Normally it would have been a completely awkward situation, but B continued to smile at me, caress my strange yellow hair and invited her friends to join in a circle with us. I knew from this moment that B would be a very special person within this journey.

B was a regular at tea house, but it was at showers that she and I were able to grow even closer. I enjoyed her two children, a 5 year-old boy and a 12 year-old girl, but especially enjoyed posing for the many pictures B insisted on taking with all her friends. There is a picture of B and her friends and B and me on my June 13 post.

Here's another pic with Ms Fran. [Her son got a new pair of underwear that day, haha!]It was Thursday, July 3 that B told us she had all the details in line to leave for Italy shortly. It's unclear how refugees find the appropriate papers or tickets in order to move along the Refugee Highway (it's best we don't know because it's likely illegal), but B had things together and was ready to begin the journey.

B had attempted to get out of Greece many months ago with her three children. Unfortunately, passport control stopped her and she was unable to leave. Her oldest daughter, only 15, made it through and was forced to travel all alone. She is currently in Belgium with an uncle and this will be B's final destination if all works out.

What a risk she is taking. As long as she reaches Italy she can attempt to receive political asylum and meet up with the rest of her family. If anything goes wrong she could separated from another of her children and the hope of uniting the family is again gone. The stress of this decision came out during showers. Towards the end of our time B began to weep. She wept because she was scared. Greece was scary enough, but traveling again meant even more new things to encounter. The weight became too much. She wept because she was leaving "all her daughters". All of the Helping Hands staff had become family for B, we all loved each other and would do anything for each other. There was comfort in this place.

In order to prepare for the journey B has cut and colored her hair and found the most modern European clothing in order to not stick out. I always thought B was beautiful, but you could tell that she never found joy in looking at herself. As a woman I've always felt beauty as a burden. In our society it is what keeps women in a constant struggle with others and ultimately within oneself. Defining beauty, either inward or outward, has always been difficult for me, but B showed me beauty last Thursday.

B had her hair colored and cut and her friend had given her some lipstick. "10 years younger, 10 years younger," she repeated with a huge smile. She couldn't stop looking in the mirror and I couldn't help but repeat the word "beautiful" because B was beautiful. It wasn't the fact that she colored her hair or painted her nails (although I've realized the intimate power you hairstylists [Megan, Sheri, Val] have). It was because she was looking at herself as worthy, confident and full of hope. B possessed the beauty all of us in this world can only dream of. She left the ARC that day without her headscarf...a seemingly insignificant detail that says more than any of us Westerners can grasp.

B is attempting her journey to Italy as I type. I miss her already. Please pray that she will be greeted with grace and that she never loses the beauty God has given her. And for us, pray that we all search for a simple glimpse of 'B' beauty.