At the Airport

Planes, "Trains" (read: Buses) & Automobiles

Wednesday. 9:25 a.m.

Dallas. Disney songs in the car with the kiddos, sister one and sister three; laughter emitting from our vocal cords. Nearly missing the airport, but catching it just in time. Goo, the United check-in desk is crazy busy. As usual, need to check-in with attendant rather than using the kiosk. Bags both under 50 pounds each; sigh of relief. Say goodbye; so hard. Don't go! Please take me! Why can't I go? Where are the planes? We don't get to see the planes? That's lame. Don't cry! Can't handle tears right now. One more hug. One more cling. I really have to go. Sister one needs to get home and feed the monkey baby. Keep it together. One last goodbye. 

Flight full. Carry ons being taken away and checked. Never had to wait so long on the plane to get to seat. Two and a half hours, hm? Read. Read some more. Read a little more. Finish book. Hmm, not bad. Maybe should read more Alan Furst at some point in time. Another book? Oops, all others are in the belly of the plane. Oh well. 

Wednesday 4:00 p.m.

Washington Dulles. Find terminal B. Oh, right there. No shuttle bus to another hub? Cool. Hmm... hungry. Oh, didn't eat lunch; little wonder. Check in at gate; window seat? I'm supposed to have an aisle. Reissued ticket. Thank you! Almond crackers in bag? Woo hoo! Board plane. Again with carry ons being taken and checked. Waved through the line and board plane. Settle in. Love the feeling of taking off; getting sucked into the seat is thrilling! Hmmm... 8 hours 15 minutes in the air. Drink apple juice, eat dinner, watch "Marley & Me." Getting darker, probably should sleep. Watch "Transporter 3." Really dark now. Sleep. Wake up. Sleep. Wake up. Sleep. Wake up... whoa, hey there, miss flight attendant with the hot towel in my face. Sun rising. Breakfast; landing soon. What to watch with breakfast... lame, lame, lame. Oh, "Surf's Up." Oops, not so much. Plane descending, electronics turned off. Landing. Plane occupants clapping. Deboard plane; WC! Brush teeth; feel human again. Baggage claim; luggage on carousel. Sweet! ATM? Eurolines desk...? Ah; one ticket to Bratislava please. Danke schon.

Thursday 8:40 a.m.

Vienna, Austria. Foreigners. Smokers. Different languages. Watching the ebb and flow of the international airport hub. Innards excited about almost being "home." Waiting for bus; watch Mercedes Benz and Peugot taxi cabs; cool breeze; cigarette smoke; passengers arriving, going; Tourists totally lost trying to read signs. Enjoying the mesh of cultures the city has to offer. Western, Central, Eastern. Near and Far. A little slice of heaven. 

What's that, ma'am? No, I'm not from New York City; just flew in from Washington Dulles. You seem like a sweet older Austrian woman; glad you're out traveling and enjoying the world. I'm sorry, sir? Yes, waiting on the bus to Bratislava; no, not Slovak. Ja som Američanka. Slow down there, buddy. Can't keep up with what you're saying. Surprising how much I understand what you're saying. Sorry my Slovak's very much baby Slovak. Have family in Houston, you say? I'm from Dallas. 

Guy next to me blowing smoke out of his mouth making cool shapes as it floats away. Ohp, he's done now, gone now. Always coming, always going, people are. 

Crammed on a bus now; over booked, people standing; no surprise. Sitting next to a man of Arabic descent from Jersey; attending a business conference in Bratislava. Great for the Slovak economy! Nice guy, good chat, pretty Austrian country side. Vineyards, giant three-blade windmills, beautiful walkways and bike trails, lush green trees, open fields as far as the eye can see, big open blue sky complete with huge white fluffy clouds. 

Thursday 10:30 a.m.

Bratislava, Slovakia! Laundry hanging outside, smells, Škodas, colored hair, man-pris (capris for men), black socks paired with sandals all screaming WELCOME "HOME." Peace. Comfort. Excitement. Ha ha! "3nity Spa." Clever. *chuckle* [Tri (pronounced "tree") means three in Slovak.] 

Slovak Lines bus; wow, it's really nice. "Dust in the Wind" blaring from the radio. Missing the kiddos already; wish they were here to share Slovakia with them. Really wish I had a dog. Oh, it's really warm and stuffy. Just me? Nope. There's an arm or two up by the vents. It's bad when Slovaks are trying to figure out if the air's on or not. 

oh, dozed off for a while; wow, where are we? Need to wake up or else no sleep tonight. Gah! The bus driver just tried to kill us all. Oh look, cows! Dude, slamming on the brakes causing passengers to literally hit the seat in front of them is not cool! Haven't been in country four hours and the bruises start already. Good grief!

The gardens are starting to sprout; vegetation starting to show. Window boxes are full of friendly red geraniums; drying laundry blowing in the wind. Gotta love small village life! Big city life, too, though not as open or calming. 

Think the guy next to me just complimented my handwriting. Or the fact that I'm able to write straight while on a bus? Let's hope he's blowing kisses at that, not at me. Picked the wrong girl to mess with. I'm sorry, what's that? Your English is good. Thank you for explaining. Yes, got it that your new buddy here is trying to compliment me, but having difficulty due to the language barrier. 

Twenty minutes from Bystrica. "Home" is closer and closer. Whoa, dude, lay off already! Yes, Alader is a nice name. No, you can't have my phone number. Glad your sister lives in Zavadka, answer's still no. Live in Brezno, eh? Good for you. Still not giving you my phone number. Yes, I'm a missionary. That's wonderful you've been a believer for twenty years, I'm pretty sure that's what you're saying; answer's still no. Thank you for wanting to help me with my bags, but no, thank you. Smile, be polite; smile, be polite; smile, be polite. Thank you for the blessings. 

Thursday 2:30 p.m.

Banská Bystrica, Slovakia. Away from creepy guy; probably old enough to be my father. *shudder* Lots of weird looks for the two huge bags and a full back pack. I'm sorry! I'm moving here! I'm not just some American tourist who packs too much! I'm some American who's moving here who packs too much! Janet and Charles, hello! Off to see Kelly, Linda & Nathan. Puppster! So big now; you remember me! Much elation. Hellos. Hugs. Visits. Goodbyes. 

Thursday, 5:30 p.m.

Brezno, Slovakia. Tesco. Fruit. Veggies. Bread? Cheese? No, thank you. Rice milk? Can't find it. Snap. Try Billa. Still no rice milk? Grrrr. Oat milk instead. Oh, apple juice!

Thursday 7:00 p.m.

Zavadka nad Hronom, Slovakia. "HOME!" Hellos. Unload. Dinner? Sure. Talk to dad; so good to hear his voice. Unpack; try anyway; give up. Oh look, Bubbles! Woo hoo! Goo, getting tired; finally. Shower? Um, yes!

Thursday 11:05 p.m.

Curl up with Bubbles, lights off, sleep. 

Arrived Alive and Well

Hello all. Greetings from cool, rainy Slovakia! I just wanted to let you know I arrived safe and sound with all my luggage in tow. (And no one confiscated the can of pumpkin I brought with me either!)

I decided to write down any observations, situations or thoughts as they came to me today on my way from Vienna International Airport to Bystrica just to see what might happen. One of the highlights includes getting hit on by someone who looked old enough to be my father. *shudder* Never a dull moment, let me tell you. 

I hope to fill you in tomorrow about my misadventures on planes, trains (OK, really buses) and automobiles. Right now, however, I should be trying to fall asleep. 

Dobru noc s laska!

Moose-Mos

Seven Days

One week before I board a plane for Europe. Getting pretty excited. I've already packed for the most part (I know, I know, what happened to Emily and what have I done with her!), now I just have to sort through the stuff that I'm taking and decide from there what stays, what goes. And then there's the issue of the weight limit and how close I get to being over the mark. Will I? Won't I? It's always nail biting up until the very end. (It's actually happened once; I had several people helping me repack in the airport so I didn't have to pay the extra fee.) 

Anyway. 

New city. New ministry. New adventures. Ready or not, here I come! 

Food!!!!

In another attempt at trying to find decent recipes that don't send you into a sugar induced coma and are conducive to my newly prescribed eating habits, I ended up experimenting in the kitchen this morning. I made two things: apple sauce and peach cobbler (my all-time favorite dessert). I think they both turned out really well, but then I like weird foods. Recipes are as follows. 

Apple Sauce

(makes one serving)

2 small apples, skinned, cut and cored

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1 tablespoon apple juice (100%, no sugar added)

Steam apples (I used red delicious) with a vegetable steamer until extremely soft; drain water. Mash apples and add cinnamon (I use closer to 1.5 teaspoons because I like it) and juice. Mix well with a spoon. Cool and eat, or serve over plain yogurt or sugar-free ice cream. 

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Peach Cobbler

(serves 4-6)

3 medium-large peaches, cut and cored

1 cup apple juice (100%, no sugar added)

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 cup brown rice flour, sifted

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/8 or less teaspoon cloves

1/8 or less teaspoon ginger

2 teaspoons cinnamon

2 small-medium ripe bananas, mashed

1 egg

1 tablespoon unsweetened rice milk or apple juice (if needed)

1-2 tablespoons juice from peaches

olive oil

Boil peaches in apple juice and cinnamon until soft; reserve the juice. Sift together flour and baking powder into a medium bowl. Stir in cloves, ginger and cinnamon (you can use less cinnamon if you'd prefer). In a smaller bowl mash bananas; mix in the egg. Add the wet mixture to the dry and stir. If the dough is too dry, add the rice milk to make it a little smoother. Lightly grease an 8x8 pan and spoon the peaches onto the bottom (it's okay if juice gets in as well). Place spoon-fulls of dough on top of the peaches and gently spread over the top. Pour the juice from the peaches over the top of the cobbler (use more juice if you're afraid it will be too dry) and sprinkle with cinnamon. Bake at 400 degrees for about 25 minutes, or until dough is fully cooked.

Makin' Banana Pancakes

I got inspired to cook this morning. I decided on pancakes, but really didn't want to follow a recipe. I wanted to use fruit as a base instead of sugar and stay away from refined flour. So I made it up. I thought they turned out well and tasted pretty good, which probably means I will never make it that well again. Here's the end result. 

If I had to take a stab at recreating it, this would be it. I think. 

Emily's Banana Pancakes

(Makes three pancakes... or at least it did this morning.)

1/2 C gluten-free flour 

1/8 teaspoon baking powder

1/8 teaspoon or less ground ginger

1/8 teaspoon cloves

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1 small banana, mashed

1 egg

1 teaspoon rice milk (optional)

strawberries

olive oil

Mix dry ingredients together in small bowl. Mash banana in separate bowl; mix in egg and milk. Add dry ingredients to wet and mix well. Heated a frying pan with olive oil and cook batter until done in the middle. Serve plain with fresh strawberries. 

Magic Jack? Why yes, please!

I took a plunge and ordered a Magic Jack, which means I will have a Dallas-based phone number while in Slovakia so I can call anywhere in the US for free while abroad. (I can even call missionaries in Europe who have US-based phones and phone numbers. Mwahahahaha, let the prank calling begin! Ha, ha, just kidding... sort of.) Anyway, it's a pretty sweet deal if you ask me. And the best part is since it's run through my computer, I can unplug and shut down when I'm asleep so I don't get awoken by pesky telemarketers not realizing I'm seven hours ahead of them. (I know it's not their fault really, but still. I value my sleep!) Knowing that I can keep up with family and friends, take care of any banking or bill issues that may arise, or just check in on how my Monkey Baby's doing gives me peace of mind. I don't expect people to call me much, but knowing that they can if they really wanted to is rather thrilling.

Anyway, just thought I'd share my elation of my newly acquired "techy toy."

You never know where you'll meet a Slovak

I went to the Dallas Holocaust Museum as one of the chaperones for my high school's senior class field trip today. After our tour of the museum, we had the privilege of hearing a Jewish holocaust survivor, Paul Kessler, speak about his experiences. The crazy part of this story was this man, Paul Kessler, was Slovak, which no one knew until he started talking about his life during the presentation. (It really is a small world.) He was born in eastern Slovakia in a town called Vranom nad Topl'ou.

It was fascinating listening to him talk about his father being taken away (he never knew what had happened to him until his adult life when he visited Auschwitz and had his father's name looked up; his father died in the camp), and how he and his mother managed to escape the night before Germans stormed their city and find refuge in another village. He told us that he and his mother were spared by being put in a dug out hole in the ground on a farm field for anywhere from six months to one year. The hole was covered with twigs, leaves, manure from the farmstead, and grass to hide it's visibility from the Germans occupying the house on the land he and his mother were on. He said the farmers would bring cold soup and bread when they could. After they were put into the hole, they didn't come out again until the Russian's came in to the country to "liberate" it. It was shortly after that that his mother decided that they needed to get out of Europe, so they managed to get immigration papers to Canada and the the US. I believe he said he was 12-years-old when he immigrated. 

Something I didn't know was that during that time the Czech Republic and Slovak government split due to the governing rulers in Slovakia sympathizing with Hitler and his regime. Mr. Kessler didn't know if it was because the Slovaks thought Germany would win the war and therefore they'd be better off, or if they were anti-semites who agreed with Hitler. Regardless, he said this was the reason his father was taken away because their neighbors had turned him in due the political situation in the country at the time, not because Germans had invaded.  

After the presentation, I asked him what city he'd been born in. He told me not really expecting me to know what he was talking about I think, and when I encouraged him as he was giving a closest-city-proximation, I took him by surprise by my "yes" when he asked if I was familiar with the city Košice. He asked me how I knew that and I told him I'd been living in the country for the last two years. His eyes lit up and he said he wanted to talk to me after everything was over, which I did. It was so fun talking geography and discussing the country during that time period with him. And I had to admit, it was great listening to his slight Slovak accent (he apparently grew up speaking more Hungarian than Slovak, and after all these years in the States, he's lost a lot of the accent, though you can tell he's European.)

Anyway, it was a wonderful presentation and it was such a privilege to listen to him speak about his experiences during WW II. 

Releasing My Inner Nerd

I went and saw "Star Trek" last night. It was really great. It was cast well, and the characters stayed true to form from the 60's TV hit. And I greatly appreciated the fact that they kept the uniforms as close to the ones from the original show as well. Brother one, a true trekky fan, was torn by the story line claiming that what happened in the movie pretty much negated any of the other Star Trek franchises ("Star Trek the Next Generation," "Star Trek Deep Space Nine," etc.) from happening. I have to admit, I wasn't following, but brother two seemed to be and was concurring with what brother one was saying. Sister-in-law and I just smiled at them. Anyway, if you get a chance and are a fan (or not a fan, but you won't necessarily get the jokes and one-liners) the move is definitely worth a watch. 

A movie I was rather disappointed in was "X-Men Origins: Wolverine." I saw that last weekend and it was OK. I still love X-Men and I still love Wolverine's character, but the movie itself could have been better. I didn't leave the theater wanting to be instantly grafted with adamantium so I too could fight with claws. (Note to all producers out there, that is always the goal you should be striving for with your viewers because yes, it is all about us!) I'll probably still own the movie just because it's X-Men and I aspire to be one, but not because I thought it was an amazing movie. *Sigh*

OK since I'm a movie role, I just want you to know that there are movies I'm really looking forward to seeing this summer, although I probably won't get to because I'll be on a different continent. Anyway, they include: "G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra," "Transformers 2: The Revenge of the Fallen," and "Terminator Salvation." I know, I know, not the happy, sappy, girly squeally movies, but what can I say? What else do you expect from a girl who abandoned all desire to learn how to sew and wasn't allowed to play with Barbie so instead grew up playing with her friends G.I. Joe's and green army men, her brother's matchbox cars and playing baseball in the front yard with her dad? Not that I'd change that for a minute, mind you. Anyway, I digress.  

Okay, better sign off here. Autobots, roll out!