Always Un Deux Trois

A 3 hour French class has my brain careening. Dusty, forgotten words are being brushed off as my brain frantically searches among the back shelves for words of high school correspondence courses and French worksheets. But it’s not just searching. It’s a mess. The hard part is leaping over the files of Mongolian that have been…

Oasis

I went with the aim of spending time with God. I looked out on the city with my Bible and journal on a gorgeous fall day while shivering a little in the sun. And after a long time of sitting, hemming, and hawwing, and not being able to focus at all,  I realized I had…

Oasis Prelude

“Well I was walkin’ along, and I saw a path. And I thought ‘huh.  Wonder what’s up there’. And I guess I thought, ‘Why not?’ Always up for an adventure, explore a little bit. So, I follow it. And it goes and it goes up and then, at the top, there’s this beautiful place! In…

The Hardest Part

My favourite kinds of questions are the ones I don’t know the answers to. The ones that catch me off guard and make me think. I was asked one the other day: “What has been the hardest part since coming back from Mongolia?” (Re-entry) I wasn’t sure. I think my transition back to North American…

Missing Mongolia

Mongolia is haunting me today. It’s unlike my usual longing to see the youth that I worked with there, a group comprised mostly of international missionaries’ kids. Today it is actually Mongolia. I saw pictures of summer there. The season changing has something to do with this, my yearning to be there and see, smell,…

A Morning of Eavesdropping and the Invitation that Follows

I am sitting in Second Cup. I am in my hometown. It is a good morning. An old man caught me observing him and his friend at the table across from me. They have their newspapers out now, but they have been chatting away in Romanian, he told me. To my right, there is a…

Update: We Catch Up

The rumours are true. I am no longer in Mongolia. On Saturday (Mongolia Time) we headed to the airport, all packed and praying that our my bags were not overweight from the souvenir-y stuff and my pound of new postcards. Turns out, between both bags I had a whopping 6kg to spare! Incorrect bathroom scales are…