Hello again! I'm curled up in a warm corner in one of the villas, laptop in hand, listening to my roommate strum the guitar as I write. Anna and Laura huddle under a blanket on the couch, fending off sickness and working on a project for Mrs. Bortins, Samuel fills out a self-assessment form in the rocking chair, and Gracsyn cooks in the corner. We create a warm bubble of fellowship and light in contrast to the driving wind and icy snow outside. It's been a good week.
Last Wednesday's discussion of the film Gravity went very well. We spent about an hour learning about earth's satellites and talking about the things we noticed in the movie. It had plenty of symbolism and theology which prompted plenty of conversation. Mrs. Bortins told us what we were supposed to do the next day and we left for the villas.
We met at villas the next morning, consolidated into a few cars, and drove an hour and a half to the Moorhead Planetarium at Chapel Hill. We had a little time to kill before our first show at eleven o'clock, so we spread out over the city a little bit. A few of us tried to get into the local catholic church, but the doors were locked. We returned, dejected, and explored the museum with the rest of the fellows. After looking at all of the exhibits and reading about the exploits of the astronauts who actually trained at the planetarium, we were really excited to visit the dome itself. We lined up outside the door and other school groups started crowding around. The doors opened and a charismatic man welcomed us all inside. We had a great time. Our tour guide cracked horribly cheesy jokes and told stories, keeping everyone engaged and in good spirits. He showed us all what the sky would look like if we didn't have light pollution. I turned to my fellows and saw them looking back at me. We knew the sky at two in the morning was just as beautiful. Then again, the spinning stars, illuminated constellations, and soaring music made it a wonderful new experience.
After the first show, we went back into town for an hour. I love college towns. They're beautiful, at least all the ones I've been to. I chased squirrels, climbed walls, gallivanted through fallen leaves, and spoke to passing students. After a half hour, I found myself leaning on a street light listening to an animated old man playing a unique guitar by the roadside. He told me it was a 1961 resonating guitar. It had an odd metal construction and didn't look like anything I'd seen before. In the end, what mattered wasn't what he was playing but how well he was playing it. I stayed for a few more songs, and loved every one. Eventually, I shook his hand, exchanged names, and reluctantly left, my heart and pockets lighter. I won't forget Papa D any time soon. His clothes pointed out that he didn't need to play for money, and he told me that he just wanted to spread the joy. He had a great feel for the blues, and I watched a half dozen people tip him before I finally had to move on.
We hung around the Planetarium after lunch until the whole group arrived. We were ushered into the dome again and found good seats. In fact, because we'd heard the instructions once before, we were allowed in early and enjoyed having the place to ourselves. This next presentation was on the mysteries of black holes. Most of us had heard enough about them before, but the visuals were incredible, especially the optical illusion which turned the small dome into a much larger cube. We had a great time and finally left, reluctantly, when it was all over. Our day wasn't completely finished, however, because Caleb had a rehearsal for us. We got in place and ran through our pieces, once again. We'll definitely know the concert by next week.
Well, the rest of the day was free. A lot of us went outside to be as active as we could be, and still more of us went to Mrs. Bortins' for a private lesson on the English language. Some of the fellows are planning to take the SAT again, looking for better scores.
Friday let us sleep in an extra hour, but most of us left earlier than we had to. When we got to the house, Mr. John Yopp (our guest speaker) and his family were waiting for us. We flooded him with introductions and helped make him feel welcome. Pastor Skogen's wife came to lead us in devotions that morning and the next. She wanted to talk to us about the biblical view of love and marriage. I don't think I've ever heard anyone talk about it quite so authoritatively before. It was quite refreshing, actually. We all benefited from hearing it.
Friday and Saturday were the best part of the week. Mr. Yopp shared so much with us, teaching us about acoustics, electronics, and the inner workings of guitars. He showed us a bunch of unfinished pieces from his workshop, from a body that he had already played on, (which simply needed replacement electronics and a good polish) to the rough wood which he made everything out of. He showed us videos of the original Gibson plant and compared his work with both it and the modern plants. On Saturday, he let us lacquer and buff a few guitar bodies. We loved being able to get our hands dirty and work on something so physical, especially as it contrasted with the very mental exercise of our last guest.
Mr. Yopp shared his life-story and his ambitions, his ideas and his accomplishments. He played the guitar for us and listened to us rehearse. On our last rehearsal, we clamored and shouted and managed to get him on stage, taking Austin's place on the guitar. It sounded amazing. We were reluctant to let him go and took him up on his offer to examine all of our instruments. We pressed guitar after guitar into his hands and sat at his feet, listening to his stories, his technical expertise, and his absent-minded plucking. It was great. He finally left, and we returned to our lives.
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday have been packed with activity. We're doing a full rehearsal a day and spending the mornings in physics. All of our remaining time has been taken up by a series of projects which Mrs. Bortins assigned to us. We're working on N2K, advertising it and finding sponsors. Besides that, we have college applications and the extensive self-assessment to work on. It's all due tomorrow, and we're all going back to the classroom tonight to test the math competition. So with that in mind, I have to put my laptop to rest and get ready for tomorrow.
Until next week,
Barnabas Holleran
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
An Update
Hello all, and welcome back to this week's journal! We just got out of music practice with Caleb. Our concert is coming up in just two weeks, and we're all really excited about it. That being said, we have a lot we have to do to prepare for it. We know all our songs, and now it's time to play them to perfection. We started practicing with amplification this week for our first time on Monday, and it was pretty horrible. It took some getting used to, but by today we had something worth listening to. We ran through almost all of our songs today. A few small groups or individual fellows are playing their own pieces, and each of them was absolutely delightful to hear. When Austin played his classical guitar, we were all held spellbound. He thought it was terrible, but we all loved it.
There have been a few hiccups with the concert, but we've managed to get them sorted out. The biggest one happened about a week ago when the Sunrise Theater called us to let us know that we were double booked and that we'd lost our time to perform. We looked at several other venues around the area and finally settled on the steadfast Sandhills Presbyterian Church. We changed the fliers to reflect the new information and spread them around the area. That's what we were doing last afternoon, after music. Three cars left for three different locations: one to Carthage, one to Aberdeen, and I'm not sure where the third went, only that we ran into them at the end of the day. Anyway, I had a great time in Carthage with Chris, Austin, and Jake. Most everyone we talked to was only too happy to hang the fliers in their shops. We covered everything from the local barber's shop to a photographer's studio and even to a sketchy pawn shop at the edge of town. I hope people come from everywhere we advertised, if only because the final audience would be so diverse.
One of our final stops was the Carthage Shooting Sports gun store. The man behind the counter had a lot of questions to ask about the concert, unlike most of the others who hung it up almost immediately. However, his questions were good, and we have a few ideas for our next one because of it. After five minutes of discussing Bob Dylan, guns, Presbyterianism, his singing voice, and modern music, he shook hands with us and agreed to put it up. If he's the only person who comes to the concert, I won't be disappointed.
A few other noteworthy things happened this week. First, Laura finished recording The Core, Leigh's new audiobook. It'll take a few months for the recording to be fully finished, but the rough base is done. We're all pretty excited. Next is our math game. We settled on a final name for it: N2K or more correctly, N²K: the National Number Knockout. The business plan is done, and Leigh and some of the others have been testing it on the local community. Finally, when we were in physics on Monday, David came running into the room and in his no-nonsense manner yelled, "THERE IS A DOG CHASING A DEER IN THE LAKE." Mrs. Bortins was the first one out the door, and we all followed right behind. We ended up taking the boat out to herd it towards land. It escaped the dog and we all cheered; it was quite a nice break from the usual class period. Mrs. Bortins is going to test us on what we've learned next Monday. It'll be good to see whether the last few weeks have been productive.
All in all, while lots is happening, we're taking it in stride as the usual for a week here. I think Mandala is starting to wear most of us down. Everyone is really looking forward to the respite afforded by Thanksgiving break. I hope the excitement for the concert will carry us through until we go home. In any case, we'll push through and go home in just a little while.
Last week, Mrs. Bortins told us to go watch Gravity for our astronomy class. We're going back to discuss it this evening. I have a feeling this is going to be a good class.
Until next week,
Barnabas Holleran
There have been a few hiccups with the concert, but we've managed to get them sorted out. The biggest one happened about a week ago when the Sunrise Theater called us to let us know that we were double booked and that we'd lost our time to perform. We looked at several other venues around the area and finally settled on the steadfast Sandhills Presbyterian Church. We changed the fliers to reflect the new information and spread them around the area. That's what we were doing last afternoon, after music. Three cars left for three different locations: one to Carthage, one to Aberdeen, and I'm not sure where the third went, only that we ran into them at the end of the day. Anyway, I had a great time in Carthage with Chris, Austin, and Jake. Most everyone we talked to was only too happy to hang the fliers in their shops. We covered everything from the local barber's shop to a photographer's studio and even to a sketchy pawn shop at the edge of town. I hope people come from everywhere we advertised, if only because the final audience would be so diverse.
One of our final stops was the Carthage Shooting Sports gun store. The man behind the counter had a lot of questions to ask about the concert, unlike most of the others who hung it up almost immediately. However, his questions were good, and we have a few ideas for our next one because of it. After five minutes of discussing Bob Dylan, guns, Presbyterianism, his singing voice, and modern music, he shook hands with us and agreed to put it up. If he's the only person who comes to the concert, I won't be disappointed.
A few other noteworthy things happened this week. First, Laura finished recording The Core, Leigh's new audiobook. It'll take a few months for the recording to be fully finished, but the rough base is done. We're all pretty excited. Next is our math game. We settled on a final name for it: N2K or more correctly, N²K: the National Number Knockout. The business plan is done, and Leigh and some of the others have been testing it on the local community. Finally, when we were in physics on Monday, David came running into the room and in his no-nonsense manner yelled, "THERE IS A DOG CHASING A DEER IN THE LAKE." Mrs. Bortins was the first one out the door, and we all followed right behind. We ended up taking the boat out to herd it towards land. It escaped the dog and we all cheered; it was quite a nice break from the usual class period. Mrs. Bortins is going to test us on what we've learned next Monday. It'll be good to see whether the last few weeks have been productive.
All in all, while lots is happening, we're taking it in stride as the usual for a week here. I think Mandala is starting to wear most of us down. Everyone is really looking forward to the respite afforded by Thanksgiving break. I hope the excitement for the concert will carry us through until we go home. In any case, we'll push through and go home in just a little while.
Last week, Mrs. Bortins told us to go watch Gravity for our astronomy class. We're going back to discuss it this evening. I have a feeling this is going to be a good class.
Until next week,
Barnabas Holleran
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
A Well-Deserved Break
Hello and welcome again! I have to apologize for the late post again. This time, I don't have an excuse. So the story leaves off a week ago, on Wednesday. It was yet another productive day of music. Leigh was in DC, so Caleb took the whole morning to work on our performance. We had a full morning, so Caleb let us go at lunch, reminding us of the voluntary music lesson the next day. That was the last day of classes for the rest of the week. We embraced our freedom with varying levels of maturity. A few of us found our way to the front drive, where we started throwing around a football. The practice turned intense, and Alec ended up breaking something in his hand. With all the injuries we've been taking, I'm surprised I haven't broken anything yet. So we put the ball away and Wednesday came to an end. Some of the villas were dark early, and some were lit up and alive until the wee hours of the morning. Either way, almost all of us showed up at music the next day.
Now, we knew that Thursday held more than just music: it was also the day when our SAT scores would be released. The class started at ten, so most of us came early and congregated in the dining room, sharing our scores. Just like before, the consensus was universal: we had done worse than we expected. We're still not sure why the test felt so easy or why we got such low scores, but most of us were disappointed. After the initial surprise wore off, we did realize that they were decent scores, and most importantly, that everyone had improved since their last test. We had to put our concerns aside for a while once Caleb arrived and got started on our music. We ran through our more vocal songs, namely the "Hallelujah" chorus and Blue Moon. It went really well, and we were all glad we came and a little resentful of those who stayed behind.
Shortly after class, Chris and Seth left, driving to Chris's house for the rest of the week. The villas were desolate. I swear we saw a tumbleweed. Michael and I usually don't spend much time together, but the silence forced us to either collaborate or listen. We chose the first, exploring the surrounding woods, looking for something fun to do. We found some junked cars from the 1950s and salvaged their logos, then explored the woods for a while. It was surprisingly uneventful. When we got back to the villas, we discovered that the girls were holed up in their house, plotting some sort of secret.
Michael is probably the most responsible guy at Mandala. Two of the indications of this are the prowess and frequency of his cooking. So when he proposed that we cook something up, I knew it would be good. He called it the "monster cookie", and we wrote up a list to get at the store. We soon had a mound of supplies and the largest bowl we could find in front of us. The next twenty minutes were a bit of a blur. I can remember a lot of oats, some comically oversized lumps of peanut butter, and the feeling that my hands would never be clean again. Anyway, twenty minutes later, we slid two trays of goulash into the oven and started counting the calories that went into it. We estimated that they held about twelve thousand in total. It was a good decision.
The next day, we met again for breakfast. He made dutch babies and helped me make pancakes. I broke out my Vermont maple syrup, Alec contributed some smoothies to the table, and we all enjoyed a relaxed morning. I had just turned nineteen, and Anna and Elizabeth surprised me with a birthday cake. I spent the rest of the day doing this and that, exploring with the guys, visiting antique shops with the girls, and generally feeling very loved. We finished off the night with movies and college applications.
Saturday was my chance to sleep in, and I took full advantage of it. We all worked on our list of things for college, and then had a relaxed night. Anna Harvey's sister celebrated her birthday that day, and a few of the fellows joined her party. By all accounts, it was a great time.
People started to come back from their trips on Sunday. About half of us went to Tobin's house and came back just in time to greet Seth and Chris. Our fellows trickled in over the rest of the evening, and a sense of life returned to the villas. It was a good evening. I'm really not going to cope well with the end of this program. We settled back to our houses, talked about the SAT with those who had just come back, and got ready for class the next day.
These last few days have been a hectic mix of physics, writing, and music, as a bunch of deadlines get nearer. We're performing in about three weeks, and the performance still has potential to go very poorly. We had to change the venue this week; we lost our time at the Sunrise Theater, and so we've fallen back to the church. Everyone practiced hard this afternoon. I'm pretty hopeful! I know we can make it shine, and we all want it to.
Until next week,
Barnabas Holleran
Now, we knew that Thursday held more than just music: it was also the day when our SAT scores would be released. The class started at ten, so most of us came early and congregated in the dining room, sharing our scores. Just like before, the consensus was universal: we had done worse than we expected. We're still not sure why the test felt so easy or why we got such low scores, but most of us were disappointed. After the initial surprise wore off, we did realize that they were decent scores, and most importantly, that everyone had improved since their last test. We had to put our concerns aside for a while once Caleb arrived and got started on our music. We ran through our more vocal songs, namely the "Hallelujah" chorus and Blue Moon. It went really well, and we were all glad we came and a little resentful of those who stayed behind.
Shortly after class, Chris and Seth left, driving to Chris's house for the rest of the week. The villas were desolate. I swear we saw a tumbleweed. Michael and I usually don't spend much time together, but the silence forced us to either collaborate or listen. We chose the first, exploring the surrounding woods, looking for something fun to do. We found some junked cars from the 1950s and salvaged their logos, then explored the woods for a while. It was surprisingly uneventful. When we got back to the villas, we discovered that the girls were holed up in their house, plotting some sort of secret.
Michael is probably the most responsible guy at Mandala. Two of the indications of this are the prowess and frequency of his cooking. So when he proposed that we cook something up, I knew it would be good. He called it the "monster cookie", and we wrote up a list to get at the store. We soon had a mound of supplies and the largest bowl we could find in front of us. The next twenty minutes were a bit of a blur. I can remember a lot of oats, some comically oversized lumps of peanut butter, and the feeling that my hands would never be clean again. Anyway, twenty minutes later, we slid two trays of goulash into the oven and started counting the calories that went into it. We estimated that they held about twelve thousand in total. It was a good decision.
The next day, we met again for breakfast. He made dutch babies and helped me make pancakes. I broke out my Vermont maple syrup, Alec contributed some smoothies to the table, and we all enjoyed a relaxed morning. I had just turned nineteen, and Anna and Elizabeth surprised me with a birthday cake. I spent the rest of the day doing this and that, exploring with the guys, visiting antique shops with the girls, and generally feeling very loved. We finished off the night with movies and college applications.
Saturday was my chance to sleep in, and I took full advantage of it. We all worked on our list of things for college, and then had a relaxed night. Anna Harvey's sister celebrated her birthday that day, and a few of the fellows joined her party. By all accounts, it was a great time.
People started to come back from their trips on Sunday. About half of us went to Tobin's house and came back just in time to greet Seth and Chris. Our fellows trickled in over the rest of the evening, and a sense of life returned to the villas. It was a good evening. I'm really not going to cope well with the end of this program. We settled back to our houses, talked about the SAT with those who had just come back, and got ready for class the next day.
These last few days have been a hectic mix of physics, writing, and music, as a bunch of deadlines get nearer. We're performing in about three weeks, and the performance still has potential to go very poorly. We had to change the venue this week; we lost our time at the Sunrise Theater, and so we've fallen back to the church. Everyone practiced hard this afternoon. I'm pretty hopeful! I know we can make it shine, and we all want it to.
Until next week,
Barnabas Holleran
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Limping and Excitement
Hello once and again! I'm writing from the top of Ian's car, where I am enjoying the beautiful fall weather. It's just beginning to get a little chilly, and the air is starting to develop an edge. It's been perfect weather to be outside. We've been balancing study with sport, trying to keep up with our school while we still take time to enjoy God's green earth. We get most of our math done in class, to the point where study outside isn't entirely crucial, but music is another matter. Music theory requires constant attention and application or we forget it by the next week.
This week started off pretty slowly except for the frisbee on Monday. The next day, we were back in class for music with Caleb. He's pushing us a little harder now that we have a concert coming up, and we're also getting into some more difficult music theory. Mrs. Bortin's housekeeper, April, has been joining us for music on Tuesdays. We really enjoy having her in class; her input is always helpful, and when we play instruments or sing, she's strong in her part.
In and out of class, she's become an honorary member of our fellowship, so when she told us that she was playing in an orchestra on Thursday night, we told her we'd be there. In the two days between, we had an assignment to finish: our business plan. By the time Thursday afternoon brought our deadline, we had a decent stack of papers to turn in. Mrs. Bortins went over it with us and helped us make it excellent. A burden lifted, we celebrated with music at the community college where the Moore County Philharmonic Orchestra was playing, with April as first violin.
About half of us showed up to the concert, and we were glad we did. April was fantastic, and after she finished, William suggested we get frozen yogurt. Ten minutes later, we were adding toppings to delicious cups of chilled goodness in downtown Aberdeen. Our taste buds tickled and the night still young, someone suggested we take our gathering to the park, which we gladly did. We were standing around, talking, after ditching our shoes to run in the grass, when a police officer showed up and informed us that the park is closed after dark. He had a lot of questions to ask about our bare feet, but he eventually let us leave, waiting until the last of us had pulled out of the driveway before he followed and went his own way. That concluded the festivities of the night, but was only a start to a few days of madness.
We had a guest the next day, a man by the name of James Nickel, a respected mathematician and author. Before he talked, however, Pastor Skogen led devotions for a solid hour, and Caleb and Mrs. Bortins split the morning between them. The pastor joined us again for lunch, when we had rotating discussion questions and pizza. When we finished, Mr. Nickel finally took over. He had a lot to tell us, and it was a bit overwhelming at first. Eventually we got comfortable asking clarifying questions, and we were able to keep up. Still, by the time he ended, we were mentally exhausted, and needed something to pick us up.
We didn't have anything going on that afternoon, so nearly all of the fellowship gathered at a local field and played another game of frisbee, this time in daylight and without the hinderance of pavement. We played hard for two and a half hours, barely pausing to rest. A few of us are still limping. It was a good afternoon. Caleb's wife and daughter watched the whole thing, along with Mrs. Bortins and our guest. We cleaned up and went back to the main house to hang out with Mr. Nickel. Afterwards, we had dinner and a fire, and almost everyone watched movies, either at the Bortins' or the villas.
Before we went to bed, David organized another game of ultimate. Because we had an extra hour and a half before class on Saturday, he proposed we get up and play an intense game for our morning exercise. With a great deal of persuasion, he managed to get a commitment from fourteen people. The next morning, twelve showed up, and it was on. We played for an intense hour and quickly cleaned up before devotions with Pastor Skogen, arriving awake, excited, and very satisfied.
Mr. Nickel had a lot to talk about. He was an interesting man, obviously well read and passionate about mathematics. His passion was different from Mrs. Bortins, who takes absolute delight in the numbers and structure of math. Mr. Nickel showed us a much wider view, looking into the philosophy and history behind mathematics and mathematicians. He showed us where a lot of modern mathematics came from and why. Digging deeper, he uncovered aspects of God's character in algebra and calculus. It was another exhausting day, but we learned a lot of things which we'd never heard before.
He took a few hours after lunch, and a final hour of questions just before dinner. Some of us stayed behind to continue talking with him, and others wished him farewell and went home. He hails from Washington state, but rather than flying back, he decided to ride the train up to New York and over the top of our country. This route allows him to see another corner of the world and to spend some time with people he otherwise wouldn't meet. It must have been a good trip.
So we took ourselves to bed that night and got ready for church the next morning. We made our way from the villas at one time or another, all but a few who felt like their Saturday morning respite had been interrupted by an early class. The church choir was meeting its new director that morning, so a few of us left much earlier to get to choir. Pastor Skogen was in fine form, preaching the end of Ecclesiastes and trying to instill the fear of God in us. After church concluded, and we'd had a healthy dose of socializing, we returned to the villas, where most of us worked on papers due to Caleb on Tuesday. Midway through the afternoon, Alec crashed through my front door, held up two pairs of boxing gloves, and announced that he'd finally brought them home. Without a second thought, a few of us gathered behind the houses and enjoyed a rigorous bout of boxing. We explored unknown talent and unexpected skill for a half hour and returned to our studies, breaking again to practice frisbee for the next big game we play. It's so hard to focus when we have this beautiful weather. One by one, we leave our papers, either done or merely waiting for completion on Monday.
The beginnings of our weeks are hardly ever worth mention. The next day, we dragged ourselves to class and pursued physics for a few hours. We've made it through sixteen pages of exercises since we started, two weeks ago, and Mrs. Bortins wanted to show us what we've accomplished. She quizzed us on what we knew, and we all surprised ourselves. Finally, before lunch, she told us the final plans for the week. She's traveling to speak in Washington D.C., so we're having an extra few music sessions while she's gone. A few fellows went with her to stay, some to the airport and from there, elsewhere, and plenty of fellows are using this time to visit their families. They left after music on Tuesday. A faithful remnant remain.
So we retire to bed and look forward to Wednesday. We've been learning the Hallelujah chorus, an acapella doo-wop, and a few songs to play as a group. We'll be practicing these tomorrow, and I'm sure it will be a good morning, and a good week.
Until next time, your servant,
Barnabas Holleran
This week started off pretty slowly except for the frisbee on Monday. The next day, we were back in class for music with Caleb. He's pushing us a little harder now that we have a concert coming up, and we're also getting into some more difficult music theory. Mrs. Bortin's housekeeper, April, has been joining us for music on Tuesdays. We really enjoy having her in class; her input is always helpful, and when we play instruments or sing, she's strong in her part.
In and out of class, she's become an honorary member of our fellowship, so when she told us that she was playing in an orchestra on Thursday night, we told her we'd be there. In the two days between, we had an assignment to finish: our business plan. By the time Thursday afternoon brought our deadline, we had a decent stack of papers to turn in. Mrs. Bortins went over it with us and helped us make it excellent. A burden lifted, we celebrated with music at the community college where the Moore County Philharmonic Orchestra was playing, with April as first violin.
About half of us showed up to the concert, and we were glad we did. April was fantastic, and after she finished, William suggested we get frozen yogurt. Ten minutes later, we were adding toppings to delicious cups of chilled goodness in downtown Aberdeen. Our taste buds tickled and the night still young, someone suggested we take our gathering to the park, which we gladly did. We were standing around, talking, after ditching our shoes to run in the grass, when a police officer showed up and informed us that the park is closed after dark. He had a lot of questions to ask about our bare feet, but he eventually let us leave, waiting until the last of us had pulled out of the driveway before he followed and went his own way. That concluded the festivities of the night, but was only a start to a few days of madness.
We had a guest the next day, a man by the name of James Nickel, a respected mathematician and author. Before he talked, however, Pastor Skogen led devotions for a solid hour, and Caleb and Mrs. Bortins split the morning between them. The pastor joined us again for lunch, when we had rotating discussion questions and pizza. When we finished, Mr. Nickel finally took over. He had a lot to tell us, and it was a bit overwhelming at first. Eventually we got comfortable asking clarifying questions, and we were able to keep up. Still, by the time he ended, we were mentally exhausted, and needed something to pick us up.
We didn't have anything going on that afternoon, so nearly all of the fellowship gathered at a local field and played another game of frisbee, this time in daylight and without the hinderance of pavement. We played hard for two and a half hours, barely pausing to rest. A few of us are still limping. It was a good afternoon. Caleb's wife and daughter watched the whole thing, along with Mrs. Bortins and our guest. We cleaned up and went back to the main house to hang out with Mr. Nickel. Afterwards, we had dinner and a fire, and almost everyone watched movies, either at the Bortins' or the villas.
Before we went to bed, David organized another game of ultimate. Because we had an extra hour and a half before class on Saturday, he proposed we get up and play an intense game for our morning exercise. With a great deal of persuasion, he managed to get a commitment from fourteen people. The next morning, twelve showed up, and it was on. We played for an intense hour and quickly cleaned up before devotions with Pastor Skogen, arriving awake, excited, and very satisfied.
Mr. Nickel had a lot to talk about. He was an interesting man, obviously well read and passionate about mathematics. His passion was different from Mrs. Bortins, who takes absolute delight in the numbers and structure of math. Mr. Nickel showed us a much wider view, looking into the philosophy and history behind mathematics and mathematicians. He showed us where a lot of modern mathematics came from and why. Digging deeper, he uncovered aspects of God's character in algebra and calculus. It was another exhausting day, but we learned a lot of things which we'd never heard before.
He took a few hours after lunch, and a final hour of questions just before dinner. Some of us stayed behind to continue talking with him, and others wished him farewell and went home. He hails from Washington state, but rather than flying back, he decided to ride the train up to New York and over the top of our country. This route allows him to see another corner of the world and to spend some time with people he otherwise wouldn't meet. It must have been a good trip.
So we took ourselves to bed that night and got ready for church the next morning. We made our way from the villas at one time or another, all but a few who felt like their Saturday morning respite had been interrupted by an early class. The church choir was meeting its new director that morning, so a few of us left much earlier to get to choir. Pastor Skogen was in fine form, preaching the end of Ecclesiastes and trying to instill the fear of God in us. After church concluded, and we'd had a healthy dose of socializing, we returned to the villas, where most of us worked on papers due to Caleb on Tuesday. Midway through the afternoon, Alec crashed through my front door, held up two pairs of boxing gloves, and announced that he'd finally brought them home. Without a second thought, a few of us gathered behind the houses and enjoyed a rigorous bout of boxing. We explored unknown talent and unexpected skill for a half hour and returned to our studies, breaking again to practice frisbee for the next big game we play. It's so hard to focus when we have this beautiful weather. One by one, we leave our papers, either done or merely waiting for completion on Monday.
The beginnings of our weeks are hardly ever worth mention. The next day, we dragged ourselves to class and pursued physics for a few hours. We've made it through sixteen pages of exercises since we started, two weeks ago, and Mrs. Bortins wanted to show us what we've accomplished. She quizzed us on what we knew, and we all surprised ourselves. Finally, before lunch, she told us the final plans for the week. She's traveling to speak in Washington D.C., so we're having an extra few music sessions while she's gone. A few fellows went with her to stay, some to the airport and from there, elsewhere, and plenty of fellows are using this time to visit their families. They left after music on Tuesday. A faithful remnant remain.
So we retire to bed and look forward to Wednesday. We've been learning the Hallelujah chorus, an acapella doo-wop, and a few songs to play as a group. We'll be practicing these tomorrow, and I'm sure it will be a good morning, and a good week.
Until next time, your servant,
Barnabas Holleran
Monday, October 14, 2013
A Spark in the Fellowship
Hello one and all! It's a good night here at Mandala. As I write this, Austin sits across the room from me, plucking out a beautiful melody on his guitar. Considering how well he plays and how infrequently he plays around the villas, I realize how blessed I am to share a room with him.
I just got in from an intense game of ultimate frisbee with most of the other fellows. On the way home from some late-night grocery shopping, a few of us saw the rest of the gang playing in the deserted parking lot, and we joined in. Two hours, several minor falls, and a few nail-biting moments later, we all shook hands and walked off the tar, matched nine to ten— an intense struggle. Seth led our team, with David Bortins as his second in command. Alec, Chris, and Ian were the strong voices in the other team, however, among the three of them, I couldn't see who truly led. All in all, it was a fantastic night, and I wish all of you could have been there to see some of the heroics that my fellows displayed.
We haven't been doing as many of the fantastic group things which defined our first month here, and I don't like that. I think we've just settled into comfortable groups of friends now, and we know individually who we want to spend time with. That being said, we are a fellowship, and I'm very glad we all turned out for the game. It rekindled a group spirit within us. We need to do more of this kind of thing. I think it's worth saying that the one who organized, planned, and actually led the start of the game was David. He really makes things happen.
I keep thinking this is still the weekend, when clearly it is not. I'll just pretend it is, and say that it's been a pretty good one. Two weeks ago, a bunch of us went to the beach with Mrs. Bortins. This Friday, the other half had their turn. They left immediately after class, and we didn't see them until Sunday afternoon. Those of us who stayed behind had a good time in the interim. For the first time in weeks, we had a day with nothing going on. Well, almost nothing. Saturday was a great day for relaxing. The late morning found most of us lounging around outside the villas, talking and hanging out, simply enjoying the warm sun, the crisp smells of fall, and the glow of fellowship. Most of us cleaned in the afternoon, or otherwise made things better around the houses. Alec and I bought paintings at the local Goodwill to try to brighten up the rooms. The evening wasn't quite so simple. Anna's brother just made Eagle Scout, and a lot of us went to his celebration. After it was over, a few dedicated crazy people, (Zach, Anna, her two friends, and myself) drove to a swing dance in Winston-Salem. We danced the night away and left in good spirits. As great as it was, we were all tired and glad to get home.
Sunday morning came in a flash. Because so many of our usual drivers were away, the organization of the cars was kind of up in the air, but we got to church, one way or another. Tobin had something planned for us, but in the end, a lot of us had to back out. Zach and I were the only two who decided to stay, which was all the better for us. We really enjoy having him around. He's not one of the official Mandala tutors, but he definitely holds a similar relationship with us. I love being able to confide with him, adventure with him, and discuss great ideas with him. Zach and I did all three and much more as the day wore on. His plans fell through, so we ended up going out to lunch and then back to the villas to watch and dissect Tarantino movies. We finished the night on the golf course, getting lost and talking about the mysteries of life. It was a great time. Life at Mandala never seems to get old.
It's never tedious, but we do repeat ourselves a lot. The week itself was a mix of introductory physics, music theory, and work on the business plan. We're all making progress, whether it's in terms of accurate calculations or clear notes on our instruments. We're all looking forward to more of the same this week, though I hope we can find some more excitement to throw a wrench into the normal routine.
Until next week,
Barnabas Holleran
I just got in from an intense game of ultimate frisbee with most of the other fellows. On the way home from some late-night grocery shopping, a few of us saw the rest of the gang playing in the deserted parking lot, and we joined in. Two hours, several minor falls, and a few nail-biting moments later, we all shook hands and walked off the tar, matched nine to ten— an intense struggle. Seth led our team, with David Bortins as his second in command. Alec, Chris, and Ian were the strong voices in the other team, however, among the three of them, I couldn't see who truly led. All in all, it was a fantastic night, and I wish all of you could have been there to see some of the heroics that my fellows displayed.
We haven't been doing as many of the fantastic group things which defined our first month here, and I don't like that. I think we've just settled into comfortable groups of friends now, and we know individually who we want to spend time with. That being said, we are a fellowship, and I'm very glad we all turned out for the game. It rekindled a group spirit within us. We need to do more of this kind of thing. I think it's worth saying that the one who organized, planned, and actually led the start of the game was David. He really makes things happen.
I keep thinking this is still the weekend, when clearly it is not. I'll just pretend it is, and say that it's been a pretty good one. Two weeks ago, a bunch of us went to the beach with Mrs. Bortins. This Friday, the other half had their turn. They left immediately after class, and we didn't see them until Sunday afternoon. Those of us who stayed behind had a good time in the interim. For the first time in weeks, we had a day with nothing going on. Well, almost nothing. Saturday was a great day for relaxing. The late morning found most of us lounging around outside the villas, talking and hanging out, simply enjoying the warm sun, the crisp smells of fall, and the glow of fellowship. Most of us cleaned in the afternoon, or otherwise made things better around the houses. Alec and I bought paintings at the local Goodwill to try to brighten up the rooms. The evening wasn't quite so simple. Anna's brother just made Eagle Scout, and a lot of us went to his celebration. After it was over, a few dedicated crazy people, (Zach, Anna, her two friends, and myself) drove to a swing dance in Winston-Salem. We danced the night away and left in good spirits. As great as it was, we were all tired and glad to get home.
Sunday morning came in a flash. Because so many of our usual drivers were away, the organization of the cars was kind of up in the air, but we got to church, one way or another. Tobin had something planned for us, but in the end, a lot of us had to back out. Zach and I were the only two who decided to stay, which was all the better for us. We really enjoy having him around. He's not one of the official Mandala tutors, but he definitely holds a similar relationship with us. I love being able to confide with him, adventure with him, and discuss great ideas with him. Zach and I did all three and much more as the day wore on. His plans fell through, so we ended up going out to lunch and then back to the villas to watch and dissect Tarantino movies. We finished the night on the golf course, getting lost and talking about the mysteries of life. It was a great time. Life at Mandala never seems to get old.
It's never tedious, but we do repeat ourselves a lot. The week itself was a mix of introductory physics, music theory, and work on the business plan. We're all making progress, whether it's in terms of accurate calculations or clear notes on our instruments. We're all looking forward to more of the same this week, though I hope we can find some more excitement to throw a wrench into the normal routine.
Until next week,
Barnabas Holleran
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Fruition
Well, we've crossed the line. Passed our first big milestone. Three months of classes all boiled down to five hours this weekend when we took the SAT. We woke before the sun and gathered in the driveway, waiting to make sure everyone was there before we left. At seven, as the first rays of light were first breaking over the surrounding hills, we piled into our cars and left the villas in one long caravan. Nobody was on the road yet, and I enjoyed watching the taillights of the cars ahead of me mingle with the orange sunrise as we made our way to the school. As much as I enjoyed the feeling of fellowship, I couldn't help but feel like a prisoner preparing for a dawn execution. We arrived at the center earlier than anyone else and waited by the doors, mingling with the other teens, waiting patiently. The doors finally opened, and we filed through, signed in, and took our seats in half a dozen rooms through the school.
The feeling of being a prisoner passed as the proctors passed out our tests. I picked up my flimsy booklet and I felt like I was in control again I heard the repetitive instructions for the third time. I launched into my test with a little apprehension and a lot of excitement. My first section after the essay was mathematics, and I charged in, as in practice, quickly answering the easier questions at the beginning to get to the harder ones at the end. At least, that was the idea. I breezed through question after question, and I began to get suspicious. I was reminded of a time when I was playing paintball with my church group. My brother and I breached a door to a fort, only to find the courtyard empty and silent. Silent, that is, until they came from behind and mowed us down. The test felt the same way: far too easy. I slowed down and began to answer cautiously, but I still finished with plenty of time to spare, something I never did in practice. After another test passed the same way, I realized that it was actually easier than what we'd been practicing, whether because it had been dumbed down since the guide was written, or because the book was written to a higher level of preparation. Encouraged, I continued, finishing every section with time to go back and check. I noticed my fellows doing the same thing. I loved the feeling of being trained and prepared: something I'd never experienced on an SAT before.
The test all went by fairly quickly, and we were done practically before we started. Exchanging high-fives all around, we got out of there and regrouped by the door, talking about the test and how we felt. I was relieved to find out that I was not the only one who thought it was easy. In fact, the vote was unanimous. We celebrated with pizza and then went to a park, blowing off the rest of the day in games and then swimming. As much as we look forward to our scores, we're content with what we've accomplished. Three months of hard work has paid off. We are done with the SAT.
If this were a normal story, it would end there, the screen would fade black, and credits would roll but that's just not the way Mrs. Bortins does things. We still have two full semesters, and she's only getting started. She introduced trigonometry to us about a month ago, and she started physics on Monday. So far, we've really been enjoying physics. It hasn't gotten crazy yet, but I'm sure that's coming later. One last thing before I sign off. Caleb has been teaching us a song from the psalter: psalm 119X. We sang it as a prelude to the worship service this Sunday. It was beautiful, and we sang it with all the gusto of a fellowship intent on praising the Lord who brought us together and blessed us so graciously. We truly have been blessed.
Until next time,
Barnabas
The feeling of being a prisoner passed as the proctors passed out our tests. I picked up my flimsy booklet and I felt like I was in control again I heard the repetitive instructions for the third time. I launched into my test with a little apprehension and a lot of excitement. My first section after the essay was mathematics, and I charged in, as in practice, quickly answering the easier questions at the beginning to get to the harder ones at the end. At least, that was the idea. I breezed through question after question, and I began to get suspicious. I was reminded of a time when I was playing paintball with my church group. My brother and I breached a door to a fort, only to find the courtyard empty and silent. Silent, that is, until they came from behind and mowed us down. The test felt the same way: far too easy. I slowed down and began to answer cautiously, but I still finished with plenty of time to spare, something I never did in practice. After another test passed the same way, I realized that it was actually easier than what we'd been practicing, whether because it had been dumbed down since the guide was written, or because the book was written to a higher level of preparation. Encouraged, I continued, finishing every section with time to go back and check. I noticed my fellows doing the same thing. I loved the feeling of being trained and prepared: something I'd never experienced on an SAT before.
The test all went by fairly quickly, and we were done practically before we started. Exchanging high-fives all around, we got out of there and regrouped by the door, talking about the test and how we felt. I was relieved to find out that I was not the only one who thought it was easy. In fact, the vote was unanimous. We celebrated with pizza and then went to a park, blowing off the rest of the day in games and then swimming. As much as we look forward to our scores, we're content with what we've accomplished. Three months of hard work has paid off. We are done with the SAT.
If this were a normal story, it would end there, the screen would fade black, and credits would roll but that's just not the way Mrs. Bortins does things. We still have two full semesters, and she's only getting started. She introduced trigonometry to us about a month ago, and she started physics on Monday. So far, we've really been enjoying physics. It hasn't gotten crazy yet, but I'm sure that's coming later. One last thing before I sign off. Caleb has been teaching us a song from the psalter: psalm 119X. We sang it as a prelude to the worship service this Sunday. It was beautiful, and we sang it with all the gusto of a fellowship intent on praising the Lord who brought us together and blessed us so graciously. We truly have been blessed.
Until next time,
Barnabas
Monday, September 30, 2013
Some Final Rays of Sun
Hello and welcome back! I'm pretty freshly arrived from a wonderful weekend at the beach with Mrs. Bortins. She was pleased with those of us who took initiative and went to the SAT practice last weekend, and so when she went to the beach this weekend, she invited us first. We were all looking forward to it, and nobody more than me, because I hadn't been to the ocean in a few years. The first few days of the week were pretty tame in comparison. We're all looking forward to the SATs on Saturday. Honestly, while I've been nervous in past years, this year, I know I'm prepared to do as well as I can, even if it's not a perfect score.
The week passed quickly and uneventfully, with the exception of one minor car-related accident. We're enjoying the extra hours of freedom during our afternoons. A few of us have taken up art, either exploring or returning to it. We've realized that the lake is going to be too cold to properly enjoy soon. I took one of the kayaks out for a long excursion around it's limits on Tuesday afternoon, and after astronomy on Wednesday, we all went swimming. Once we were in, most of us enjoyed it, but the water was cold. We played games and had a great night, but it wasn't too long before we had to go to bed and rejoin the real world for class the next morning.
Thursday morning was the usual fare of math and geometry, but during the afternoon, Leigh gave us all new assignments for the volunteer work we're doing. We're all taking part in a collaborative effort to build a business plan for one of her ideas, and then implement it by Christmas. We'll spend the rest of the year after that developing our own businesses using hers as a model. We all worked on that for a good portion of the afternoon and spent the evening at the villas.
Leigh helped us fill out our common applications on Friday, and we continued working on our high school transcripts and resumes for college applications this fall. She wants us all to achieve, and she's bending over backwards to make it happen. After lunch, we cleaned the house thoroughly and then left for the beach. She took us out to dinner that first night, and we took care of the rest of the meals that week. Dinner was amazing. We went to a local restaurant and had an abundance of seafood. Alec and I ended up sharing a platter of what looked like the dregs from the bottom of a net. Crab legs, clams, shrimp, and much more stood a foot off the table in this monstrosity of a dish. We really enjoyed eating it, and everyone enjoyed watching us. I realized that I love having a bucket for scraps instead of a plate. Afterwards, we went to the grocery store and loaded up on food. Each pair of us had a different meal to take care of, and we all did it very well. It was a great solution to our inconvenient need to eat every day. We had four well-cooked, well thought-out meals without much individual pain.
The next day, while we were exploring an island and slipping on a hazardous causeway in the early morning light, our fellows at home were taking the second practice SAT. Leigh's taking them back in a few weeks. In the afternoon, we got boogie boards and hit the beach again. By the end of the day, we were too sore to do anything but sit on the porch and watch the waves crash on the sand. That was when we found out that Elizabeth's brothers were planning to drop by and surprise her. We kept her in the dark for another hour, and when they finally walked in the door, she was utterly blown away. We all enjoyed watching the reunion.
Sunday was spent in much the same way. We fought the waves until we were utterly exhausted, cleaned the house, and came home to our villas. I really think of this place as home now, which honestly isn't great. I realized when I was at the beach that my habits are so much better when I travel. At home, I seem to stagnate. I'm working on this. Anyway, it was great to see our friends again, even if we had only been away for a few days. I don't know how we'll survive next summer. A few of the fellows were still gone. Christopher was at his home, and Laura had returned to hers. She got back after dark, but we found out that Chris had car problems keeping him an extra day.
Monday came and my roommates and I had to find rides with other people. Elizabeth's older brother John sat in devotions with us. He ships out to Afghanistan soon, and we've been praying for him. It was great to have him with us. With four days of prep left until the SAT, we focused on it all morning, each of us working on his or her own personal weakness. Caleb took over for music in the afternoon. We practiced choir, singing Blue Moon and a song from the Psalter. They're both for the Thanksgiving concert, but we're singing the last one in church next week. It gave me goosebumps. I can't wait.
Well, that's it for this week. Next time, you'll hear about our SAT experience and how we handled the first of the prospective visitors to next year's Fellowship.
Until next week,
Barnabas Holleran
The week passed quickly and uneventfully, with the exception of one minor car-related accident. We're enjoying the extra hours of freedom during our afternoons. A few of us have taken up art, either exploring or returning to it. We've realized that the lake is going to be too cold to properly enjoy soon. I took one of the kayaks out for a long excursion around it's limits on Tuesday afternoon, and after astronomy on Wednesday, we all went swimming. Once we were in, most of us enjoyed it, but the water was cold. We played games and had a great night, but it wasn't too long before we had to go to bed and rejoin the real world for class the next morning.
Thursday morning was the usual fare of math and geometry, but during the afternoon, Leigh gave us all new assignments for the volunteer work we're doing. We're all taking part in a collaborative effort to build a business plan for one of her ideas, and then implement it by Christmas. We'll spend the rest of the year after that developing our own businesses using hers as a model. We all worked on that for a good portion of the afternoon and spent the evening at the villas.
Leigh helped us fill out our common applications on Friday, and we continued working on our high school transcripts and resumes for college applications this fall. She wants us all to achieve, and she's bending over backwards to make it happen. After lunch, we cleaned the house thoroughly and then left for the beach. She took us out to dinner that first night, and we took care of the rest of the meals that week. Dinner was amazing. We went to a local restaurant and had an abundance of seafood. Alec and I ended up sharing a platter of what looked like the dregs from the bottom of a net. Crab legs, clams, shrimp, and much more stood a foot off the table in this monstrosity of a dish. We really enjoyed eating it, and everyone enjoyed watching us. I realized that I love having a bucket for scraps instead of a plate. Afterwards, we went to the grocery store and loaded up on food. Each pair of us had a different meal to take care of, and we all did it very well. It was a great solution to our inconvenient need to eat every day. We had four well-cooked, well thought-out meals without much individual pain.
The next day, while we were exploring an island and slipping on a hazardous causeway in the early morning light, our fellows at home were taking the second practice SAT. Leigh's taking them back in a few weeks. In the afternoon, we got boogie boards and hit the beach again. By the end of the day, we were too sore to do anything but sit on the porch and watch the waves crash on the sand. That was when we found out that Elizabeth's brothers were planning to drop by and surprise her. We kept her in the dark for another hour, and when they finally walked in the door, she was utterly blown away. We all enjoyed watching the reunion.
Sunday was spent in much the same way. We fought the waves until we were utterly exhausted, cleaned the house, and came home to our villas. I really think of this place as home now, which honestly isn't great. I realized when I was at the beach that my habits are so much better when I travel. At home, I seem to stagnate. I'm working on this. Anyway, it was great to see our friends again, even if we had only been away for a few days. I don't know how we'll survive next summer. A few of the fellows were still gone. Christopher was at his home, and Laura had returned to hers. She got back after dark, but we found out that Chris had car problems keeping him an extra day.
Monday came and my roommates and I had to find rides with other people. Elizabeth's older brother John sat in devotions with us. He ships out to Afghanistan soon, and we've been praying for him. It was great to have him with us. With four days of prep left until the SAT, we focused on it all morning, each of us working on his or her own personal weakness. Caleb took over for music in the afternoon. We practiced choir, singing Blue Moon and a song from the Psalter. They're both for the Thanksgiving concert, but we're singing the last one in church next week. It gave me goosebumps. I can't wait.
Well, that's it for this week. Next time, you'll hear about our SAT experience and how we handled the first of the prospective visitors to next year's Fellowship.
Until next week,
Barnabas Holleran
Monday, September 23, 2013
The Calm Before the Storm
Hello again, and welcome back.
We're pretty much back in the swing of things here. The jet lag is gone, the nights are back to normal, and we're no longer geeking out over the simplest things. Oddly enough, I've noticed that I make far more comparisons and allusions to Florence now than I did just after coming back. Maybe I miss it, and maybe it's just becoming more clear the farther back from it I stand. Anyway, things are returning to normal. The exterminator just finished his follow-up fumigation at our house, and I can't wait to finally unpack all of my things from their plastic bags and get settled again. Because my house is literally full of noxious gas, I'm writing from the loft at Mrs. Bortins', looking out over the lake and enjoying the beauty of the start of Autumn. I miss the foliage of Vermont, but this place is making up for it with incredible weather. Things are changing around here, and not just outside. Mrs. Bortins gave us all new work assignments today, cutting most of our work hours down from twenty a week to just five. She still plans to keep us busy with service work for her company, for our upcoming presentations, and with quite a few other projects she has up her sleeve. Thankfully, I get to keep the blog on top of my other work, but we're all getting new assignments.
There's not much to tell of the week we've been back. It's been fairly tame. Many people went home, and the rest of us dreamed of it. Gracsyn celebrated her 18th birthday two weekends ago, and her family came to visit, bearing cake and embarrassing stories. We all had an exceptionally good time. We take the SATs in two weeks, so Leigh has really given us both barrels with the practice— we've been doing two tests a day, back to back, to try to get us used to it. When Saturday came along, a dozen or so of us showed up at Mrs. Bortins to take a full SAT— too early and too long, just like the real one. We were all a little surprised. I had forgotten how little math there was and felt pretty well prepared. Our scores are encouraging. Honestly, I just want October 5th to hurry up and get here. We've spent almost three months working up to this test, and I think we're all about as good as we're going to get. It's time to face it.
So that's my brief recap! We simply haven't had as many escapades and adventures since we got back. However, with less hours to work, and all these beautiful days and nights, I expect I'll have something to write about soon enough.
Until then I remain your servant,
Barnabas
We're pretty much back in the swing of things here. The jet lag is gone, the nights are back to normal, and we're no longer geeking out over the simplest things. Oddly enough, I've noticed that I make far more comparisons and allusions to Florence now than I did just after coming back. Maybe I miss it, and maybe it's just becoming more clear the farther back from it I stand. Anyway, things are returning to normal. The exterminator just finished his follow-up fumigation at our house, and I can't wait to finally unpack all of my things from their plastic bags and get settled again. Because my house is literally full of noxious gas, I'm writing from the loft at Mrs. Bortins', looking out over the lake and enjoying the beauty of the start of Autumn. I miss the foliage of Vermont, but this place is making up for it with incredible weather. Things are changing around here, and not just outside. Mrs. Bortins gave us all new work assignments today, cutting most of our work hours down from twenty a week to just five. She still plans to keep us busy with service work for her company, for our upcoming presentations, and with quite a few other projects she has up her sleeve. Thankfully, I get to keep the blog on top of my other work, but we're all getting new assignments.
There's not much to tell of the week we've been back. It's been fairly tame. Many people went home, and the rest of us dreamed of it. Gracsyn celebrated her 18th birthday two weekends ago, and her family came to visit, bearing cake and embarrassing stories. We all had an exceptionally good time. We take the SATs in two weeks, so Leigh has really given us both barrels with the practice— we've been doing two tests a day, back to back, to try to get us used to it. When Saturday came along, a dozen or so of us showed up at Mrs. Bortins to take a full SAT— too early and too long, just like the real one. We were all a little surprised. I had forgotten how little math there was and felt pretty well prepared. Our scores are encouraging. Honestly, I just want October 5th to hurry up and get here. We've spent almost three months working up to this test, and I think we're all about as good as we're going to get. It's time to face it.
So that's my brief recap! We simply haven't had as many escapades and adventures since we got back. However, with less hours to work, and all these beautiful days and nights, I expect I'll have something to write about soon enough.
Until then I remain your servant,
Barnabas
Monday, September 16, 2013
Irish Drinking Songs and Italian Guitar
Hey everyone! It's been way too long since I last wrote, but let me just tell you, it's been— wait, I bet you can guess for yourself— crazy, intense, wild. Lets start quickly with this last weekend or rather Thursday night, when Christopher walked into my room holding a tissue and asking if he'd just found bed bugs. The short answer was yes.We spent the next three days packing and cleaning, searching every crevice in the house for the evil red critters. Everyone was so happy to be back from Italy at first, but the comfort and familiarity of home wore off almost immediately as we realized how much we liked Italy and vacationing in Florence. Instead of hopping a bus to San Marco, and walking the wide cobbled streets to the market or to get some of Edwardo's gelato, we sit in class, go to work, and cook our dinners. Oh well, such is life. Still, I can look back at the fantastic times we had there and tell you a little bit about them!
I last wrote on Friday, the day I decided to spend in relaxation at the villa. I'll let you fill in the blanks for our activities on Saturday: we were young, energetic, and coming to an end of our Italian visit, and we went to town looking for adventure. Each of us went our own way, finding new sights, new shops, and new foods. If we supported the leatherworking economy, we practically built pillars for the gelaterias. By nightfall, we were all back at the top of the hill, turning in a little early to be ready for church the next day.
The good people of Chiesa Evangelica were looking forward to seeing us again, and we couldn't disappoint. Truthfully, we were looking forward to visiting again. Caleb left early, and most of us decided to go with him. We actually arrived before the pastor, who jokingly asked us, all in Italian, if we'd slept there. The rest of the congregation trickled in soon after, and we joined together in worship. Caleb filled the house with music as the congregation joined his piano and we all sang from the Italian hymnals. Regardless of how well we knew the words, Caleb's teaching paid off, and we could at least hum in harmony. We did sing, however, and when the familiar tune of Amazing Grace swept from the front, the pastor encouraged us delightedly to sing in English. Someone translated the sermon for us again, and then we took communion. I'm not really sure what I was expecting. I think I wanted a deep spiritual moment of interconnectedness as I followed my classmates up to the front and took my place sandwiched between an old Italian lady and one of my friends. However, we joined hands to pray, and everything was comfortably familiar. The elders passed bread down the line and followed it shortly with a large cup; we ate and we drank, and then we went back to our seats. After the service we mingled with the congregation, exchanging hugs and handshakes, and then with lingering steps, we crossed the threshold for the last time.
Monday night held our celebration dinner and performance with Villa Morghen, so Sunday night was our last night in town. Many of us simply wandered the streets in small groups, enjoying the final glimpses of Florence in her sparkling splendor. At night, the darkness covers the blemishes and the cracks, and everything looks perfect and new. The city shines, and the people reflect it with beaming faces. The commerce of the day is done, and now people are free to roam, their minds on their eyes, not on their wallets. Musicians play on most street corners by the square at the center of the city, and their music drifts into the sky with the street vendors' spinning lights. We couldn't bear to leave early— my friends and I skipped dinner to wander. Ten o'clock came, and with it the final bus, so we had to say a final goodnight to our newfound friend.
We were up bright and early the next morning, ready for our final day in town. Our deadline was set at three PM; today was a day of business. Most of us had last-minute shopping to do for ourselves or the folks back home, so we split into groups and assailed the city. From knives to scarves to tobacco, everyone got something, and our business was soon concluded, leaving us with a few final hours to explore the city. A few of us had been missing the food from the old country (you know, America) and so we kept in mind a little place we'd heard of called "The Diner". Alec and I found ourselves alone and looking for it come lunch time. We got hopelessly lost in the streets of Florence, until we stumbled across Via dell'Acqua, a name we recognized from our map. We looked to the left, and sure enough, blazing in a shaft of sun let through theatrical clouds was The Diner, proudly waving an American flag in the narrow alleyway. We walked in and drank in the Rick Astley playing over the speakers. Their food wasn't the best, (that honor is reserved for my hometown) but it was good, and more importantly, we could be unapologetically American with our Californian waitress. The manager was from somewhere in Great Britain, but we forgave him. After a hearty meal, we made our way home by way of the food market. We had one final purchase to make, one final preparation for the celebration.
The evening crawled by, but dinner finally came. The previously bare tables were covered in white cloths, and wine stood in pitchers by the plates. The people at Villa Morghen served us a delicious three course meal, and no matter how much we ate, they had more to feed us. We feasted very well. When our dinner was finally over, they called us into the main gathering room, and we partied late into the night. For the first half hour, this fantastic local guitar player led us in folk music and old Irish drinking songs, with a few classic Italian ballads mixed in. We were a little surprised. Anyway, we had a great time, and I was proud to hold his music for him. When he finished, we started our own performances. Alec, Seth, Jake, and Ian went first. Their talent? Watermelon eating. The poor boys had already stuffed themselves at dinner, and they made the next two minutes hell for themselves, and quite amusing for the rest of us. One by one we followed them, singing, dancing, and reciting poetry. The night was mostly fun, but there were a few somber and beautiful performances, which added tremendously to the whole thing. The schedule ran out, and our photographers were due to present a slideshow, but the computer needed work, so we had a brief interlude. Everyone was surprised at how many more performances leapt out on stage. Even Mrs. Bortins stood up and performed some magic tricks for us. The pictures finally worked, and we spent a long time going through each one, laughing, joking, and enjoying reminiscing on our trip.
Our evening finally concluded. We had all packed in the afternoon, and now each of us had a choice: would we go to bed for a few short hours or stay up until the bus left at four-thirty? One way or another, we made it through the night, and up the hill the next morning. The sun had not yet risen as we drove quietly through empty streets, mounted the highway, and watched the city disappear behind us.
So that's the story of our last few days in Italy. I'm so glad we made friends with the church that we did. They all send their blessings and greetings to us and our churches. We had the time of our lives, and I couldn't imagine the trip being any better. We've been talking about how much withdrawal we'll all go through at the end of the year when we have to say goodbye to the people we've spent so much time with and drawn so close to. In short, we're all so blessed to be in this crew.
Until next time,
Barnabas
I last wrote on Friday, the day I decided to spend in relaxation at the villa. I'll let you fill in the blanks for our activities on Saturday: we were young, energetic, and coming to an end of our Italian visit, and we went to town looking for adventure. Each of us went our own way, finding new sights, new shops, and new foods. If we supported the leatherworking economy, we practically built pillars for the gelaterias. By nightfall, we were all back at the top of the hill, turning in a little early to be ready for church the next day.
The good people of Chiesa Evangelica were looking forward to seeing us again, and we couldn't disappoint. Truthfully, we were looking forward to visiting again. Caleb left early, and most of us decided to go with him. We actually arrived before the pastor, who jokingly asked us, all in Italian, if we'd slept there. The rest of the congregation trickled in soon after, and we joined together in worship. Caleb filled the house with music as the congregation joined his piano and we all sang from the Italian hymnals. Regardless of how well we knew the words, Caleb's teaching paid off, and we could at least hum in harmony. We did sing, however, and when the familiar tune of Amazing Grace swept from the front, the pastor encouraged us delightedly to sing in English. Someone translated the sermon for us again, and then we took communion. I'm not really sure what I was expecting. I think I wanted a deep spiritual moment of interconnectedness as I followed my classmates up to the front and took my place sandwiched between an old Italian lady and one of my friends. However, we joined hands to pray, and everything was comfortably familiar. The elders passed bread down the line and followed it shortly with a large cup; we ate and we drank, and then we went back to our seats. After the service we mingled with the congregation, exchanging hugs and handshakes, and then with lingering steps, we crossed the threshold for the last time.
Monday night held our celebration dinner and performance with Villa Morghen, so Sunday night was our last night in town. Many of us simply wandered the streets in small groups, enjoying the final glimpses of Florence in her sparkling splendor. At night, the darkness covers the blemishes and the cracks, and everything looks perfect and new. The city shines, and the people reflect it with beaming faces. The commerce of the day is done, and now people are free to roam, their minds on their eyes, not on their wallets. Musicians play on most street corners by the square at the center of the city, and their music drifts into the sky with the street vendors' spinning lights. We couldn't bear to leave early— my friends and I skipped dinner to wander. Ten o'clock came, and with it the final bus, so we had to say a final goodnight to our newfound friend.
We were up bright and early the next morning, ready for our final day in town. Our deadline was set at three PM; today was a day of business. Most of us had last-minute shopping to do for ourselves or the folks back home, so we split into groups and assailed the city. From knives to scarves to tobacco, everyone got something, and our business was soon concluded, leaving us with a few final hours to explore the city. A few of us had been missing the food from the old country (you know, America) and so we kept in mind a little place we'd heard of called "The Diner". Alec and I found ourselves alone and looking for it come lunch time. We got hopelessly lost in the streets of Florence, until we stumbled across Via dell'Acqua, a name we recognized from our map. We looked to the left, and sure enough, blazing in a shaft of sun let through theatrical clouds was The Diner, proudly waving an American flag in the narrow alleyway. We walked in and drank in the Rick Astley playing over the speakers. Their food wasn't the best, (that honor is reserved for my hometown) but it was good, and more importantly, we could be unapologetically American with our Californian waitress. The manager was from somewhere in Great Britain, but we forgave him. After a hearty meal, we made our way home by way of the food market. We had one final purchase to make, one final preparation for the celebration.
The evening crawled by, but dinner finally came. The previously bare tables were covered in white cloths, and wine stood in pitchers by the plates. The people at Villa Morghen served us a delicious three course meal, and no matter how much we ate, they had more to feed us. We feasted very well. When our dinner was finally over, they called us into the main gathering room, and we partied late into the night. For the first half hour, this fantastic local guitar player led us in folk music and old Irish drinking songs, with a few classic Italian ballads mixed in. We were a little surprised. Anyway, we had a great time, and I was proud to hold his music for him. When he finished, we started our own performances. Alec, Seth, Jake, and Ian went first. Their talent? Watermelon eating. The poor boys had already stuffed themselves at dinner, and they made the next two minutes hell for themselves, and quite amusing for the rest of us. One by one we followed them, singing, dancing, and reciting poetry. The night was mostly fun, but there were a few somber and beautiful performances, which added tremendously to the whole thing. The schedule ran out, and our photographers were due to present a slideshow, but the computer needed work, so we had a brief interlude. Everyone was surprised at how many more performances leapt out on stage. Even Mrs. Bortins stood up and performed some magic tricks for us. The pictures finally worked, and we spent a long time going through each one, laughing, joking, and enjoying reminiscing on our trip.
Our evening finally concluded. We had all packed in the afternoon, and now each of us had a choice: would we go to bed for a few short hours or stay up until the bus left at four-thirty? One way or another, we made it through the night, and up the hill the next morning. The sun had not yet risen as we drove quietly through empty streets, mounted the highway, and watched the city disappear behind us.
So that's the story of our last few days in Italy. I'm so glad we made friends with the church that we did. They all send their blessings and greetings to us and our churches. We had the time of our lives, and I couldn't imagine the trip being any better. We've been talking about how much withdrawal we'll all go through at the end of the year when we have to say goodbye to the people we've spent so much time with and drawn so close to. In short, we're all so blessed to be in this crew.
Until next time,
Barnabas
Friday, September 6, 2013
Seeing Dante in the Olive Groves
Airy music rushes to meet me as I walk down these hollow halls. Gordan is playing the piano again. This place is amazing. It feels so peaceful and ageless, like a soft forest glade, yet the iron bars on the windows, the tight spiraling stairs, and the long stone corridors contain boundless potential for adventure. If I could fence, these halls would probably ring with steel most hours of the day. But equally likely, the only sound to come from my fingers would be the rustle of pages as I turned slowly through books older than these halls themselves. Here in the hill town of Settignano, surrounded by fields and overlooking a brilliant view of the city, lived Dante and Michelangelo, as well as a host of other brilliant artists and poets, drawing life from the land and giving it back to the people. These past days have been a mix of stress and excitement, and today I plan to simply relax.
I may be the only one left at the villa. The Bortins crew is still out meandering the Mediterranean, and two groups left this morning for Pisa and Sienna. The remaining fellows have just now walked to catch the bus to town. I don't know the details of what they were doing over the past few days, but I can talk of Venice, that sinking city, where I spent my time. Brooke's sister and her husband live in the town of Montebelluna, just outside of Venice, and we stayed with them there. First, we left on Tuesday afternoon, after spending the day with the rest of the group, and visiting Michelangelo's David. Our morning done, we left for the train station, where Christopher saw us off, Brooke, Laura, and me myself. Our train took sped us away little by little to Padova. I had a funny little exchange with another foreigner, a woman who's case was too heavy for her. As I carried it off the train, she thanked me and I accepted it, all in Italian, with neither of us understanding the language. I was still chuckling about that when we met Victoria, Brooke's sister, at the gate. We boarded the train again and left for Montebelluna.
The little town was gorgeous and quiet, although, again, I found that it wasn't as small as I thought. The towns here are deceptively large. What I liked most was that there were no tourists besides us walking through its streets. The town was full of normal people going about normal lives. Victoria greeted old friends, and the place felt like a home— if not our own, than someone's. So we climbed to their apartment and spent the rest of the evening with them. Victoria is an amazing cook. I miss her, actually, and the gorgeous meals she would put on the table. When I told James that the woman I marry has to be able to cook, he spoke out with his Oxford wisdom and said, “Good lookin' changes. Good cookin' lasts forever.” Truer words are hard to come by. So we played cards and retired for the night, sprawling on cushions and mattresses in the living room.
Brooke wanted to stay with her family the next day, so Laura and I went out on the town. Actually, the four of us went out in the morning to the open market held every Wednesday in the square. Instead of cheesy trinkets meant for tourists, the market sold food, clothes, shoes, and all else that the people here actually use, all for so much cheaper than the markets in Florence. It was delightful. We bought food for Venice from the stalls and didn't mind the prices at all. Brooke and Victoria returned home, and Laura and I went to see the sights, mainly the church at the top of the hill. The streets of Italy are an absolute delight, with the possibility of gardens, high vistas, and singing construction workers beyond every turn. We meandered our way back in time to go to Wednesday night church, held outside of town, in an actual warehouse. Now I have experienced both equivalents here; the highly traditional, and the very charismatic. We sang familiar worship songs in Italian from a projector on the wall, and wore headphones to hear a translation of the sermon, a talk on understanding God's will.
Brooke wanted to stay with her family the next day, so Laura and I went out on the town. Actually, the four of us went out in the morning to the open market held every Wednesday in the square. Instead of cheesy trinkets meant for tourists, the market sold food, clothes, shoes, and all else that the people here actually use, all for so much cheaper than the markets in Florence. It was delightful. We bought food for Venice from the stalls and didn't mind the prices at all. Brooke and Victoria returned home, and Laura and I went to see the sights, mainly the church at the top of the hill. The streets of Italy are an absolute delight, with the possibility of gardens, high vistas, and singing construction workers beyond every turn. We meandered our way back in time to go to Wednesday night church, held outside of town, in an actual warehouse. Now I have experienced both equivalents here; the highly traditional, and the very charismatic. We sang familiar worship songs in Italian from a projector on the wall, and wore headphones to hear a translation of the sermon, a talk on understanding God's will.
Here in Italy, I've been watching everything with an eye of comparison. What is the same in the states? What huge differences can I find? To be honest, I don't know why I expected so much difference. The people are the same here. They worship in churches built before King Richard returned from his crusades, but they worship the same God with the same songs, preaching the same messages for the same problems. Old men still ramble, delighted to share their knowledge, and young bucks still crowd around each other in the park, laughing, boasting, and showing off for the girls. The tiny alleys are older than our capitol, and their ugly and new churches would be old and majestic to us. But the same people walk down the streets, going about the same business of living on this earth. That's what I've seen here. Dogs still bark at strangers, people still get used to priceless views, and tourists always come to see things from a different perspective. I no longer apologize for my camera, or try to blend in. Most of my “grazie”s have turned to “thank you”s, because no matter what I do, I couldn't separate myself from these people, not if I tried.
I can see all of Florence from here. I can see her dome and her spires, her soccer stadiums and her apartment buildings. I can see the valley stretching from end to end, full of orchards and gardens. The view from this mountain is beautiful, more so than almost any I've seen, but it's no different from the views I've seen from any other hilltop, and no different from the view the Etruscans saw two thousand years ago when they looked down into the valley and saw the little seed of a town wrapped around the Arno. Walt Whitman wasn't crazy when he compared us to grass, interconnected and the same. Solomon was right when he wrote that there is nothing new under the sun. And here I am, under the sun, seeing what so many great minds saw before me, and I'm very happy, content to be older than dirt and the same as everyone else. Now I want to read Dante's books. What did he think when he looked out over Tuscany? I can see his pen scratching, and I long to look over his shoulder. As for now? I'm going to return to Odysseus’s tale, and see how his story ends. You? You should shut off your computer and take a walk under the sun.
Au revoir, arrividerci, and see you later!
Your servant,
Barnabas
I can see all of Florence from here. I can see her dome and her spires, her soccer stadiums and her apartment buildings. I can see the valley stretching from end to end, full of orchards and gardens. The view from this mountain is beautiful, more so than almost any I've seen, but it's no different from the views I've seen from any other hilltop, and no different from the view the Etruscans saw two thousand years ago when they looked down into the valley and saw the little seed of a town wrapped around the Arno. Walt Whitman wasn't crazy when he compared us to grass, interconnected and the same. Solomon was right when he wrote that there is nothing new under the sun. And here I am, under the sun, seeing what so many great minds saw before me, and I'm very happy, content to be older than dirt and the same as everyone else. Now I want to read Dante's books. What did he think when he looked out over Tuscany? I can see his pen scratching, and I long to look over his shoulder. As for now? I'm going to return to Odysseus’s tale, and see how his story ends. You? You should shut off your computer and take a walk under the sun.
Au revoir, arrividerci, and see you later!
Your servant,
Barnabas
Monday, September 2, 2013
Tales of Tuscany
I have had so little time to write,
that I'm afraid I'll have to give more of a summary than I have been
before. So I believe it was to the Basilica di Santa Croce that we
went on Friday. This old monastery and museum held all sorts of
fascinating things, such as an old choir book, huge and heavy, with
very basic musical notation which even Caleb couldn't fully decipher.
Pietro led us through, showing us the most important displays and
telling us about the history of the building. I love how much
everything here has been through. The architects and masons who
raised these buildings had such a vision for the future. Pietro's
tour led us through this room with an incredible echo. A whispered
word would rebound loudly for several seconds. When we finished the
tour, we asked one of the guards if we could sing in the room. He
nodded and stipulated “no pop music”. We gathered into our groups
and sang four part harmony in the echoing chamber, in front of a
quickly swelling audience. We left laughing and singing again,
everyone very glad we had seized the opportunity.
Of all the days we've had here, I would
claim Friday as one of the best. Instead of bussing into the city, we
walked up the hill, farther and farther, until we came to this grand
gate leading to a private house. We were there to visit the garden.
Words and pictures don't do it justice. This long-standing garden has
inspired people for centuries. The designer of the famous Longwood
Gardens of Pennsylvania drew heavily on this old mountaintop
sanctuary. I've been to both, and while Longwoods was fantastic,
vast, and beautiful, there was something about this garden, this
garden which seemed to go on forever yet sat very compactly on its
land and which bled history from every crack in its faded walls,
there was something which was overwhelmingly more rich than the
gardens in Pennsylvania. I think the best example of this was the
giant shrine at the back of the garden, a tall old tiled fountain,
set in a wall and crumbling at the corners. The bottom was surrounded
by a low wall inset with benches, all much newer than the wall they
faced. This old giant stood when Pennsylvania was being roamed in
buckskin, and there is no reason why it could not stand for centuries
more. We ate lunch overlooking another incredible view of the city
and its valley, and spent most of the afternoon lounging there.
That evening, we dressed in our finest and attended the opera! It was fantastic and great fun to watch. The conductor was so invested in the music that he was a joy to watch. Honestly, he kind of stole the stage. We had some trouble getting home, and some of us didn't arrive until two in the morning.
That evening, we dressed in our finest and attended the opera! It was fantastic and great fun to watch. The conductor was so invested in the music that he was a joy to watch. Honestly, he kind of stole the stage. We had some trouble getting home, and some of us didn't arrive until two in the morning.
If Friday was one of the best, Saturday
was the best. Honestly, I don't remember what we did in the morning,
but that afternoon, we visited wine country. The trip out of Florence
was pretty. The ride there was beautiful. The views in Chianti were
gorgeous. I've never seen such a lovely place in all my life. We met
the owner of the vineyard we were visiting, and he brought us around
the town to his farm. The grapes hung in great bunches on a hillside
overlooking an incredible valley. We sat together around a big table,
and he brought out wine after wine, five in all, and so much bread,
biscotti and who knows what else, that we were completely and
pleasantly filled. One course had bread with meat, and when he heard
that one of our party was a vegetarian, he disappeared and returned a few minutes later with a plate of cheese for her, I believe from his own
personal larder. When Leigh asked about how to properly taste wine,
he laughed and told her to “drink it like water”. I could have
stayed there forever, laughing with my friends, tasting wines, eating
delicious food, and looking out over the most fantastic countryside
I've ever seen.
On Sunday, our adventures took another
jump. Leigh and Pietro took most of the others to a museum and a huge
garden in Florence. All went well, and there isn't a whole lot to
tell, except maybe that they tried to feed the pigeons and found
themselves utterly swarmed, covered in a mass of white and flapping.
It was a fairly normal visit, I gather. Now, while all that went on,
Caleb led a smaller expedition into the city, and we tried to figure
out a changed bus schedule. Originally, we were going to split into
two groups and find our way to two different churches. After a series
of wrong stops, wrong turns, and wrong decisions, we ended at the
very “rightest” church we could have, so of course how wrong
could the choices have actually been? Instead of the grand churches
we wanted to go to, we stumbled into a tiny Italian church just
before their sermon. The ten members of the congregation turned to
look at us, and we greeted them awkwardly: the Korean family, and
their Jewish father, the college student from Florida, who looked
more Italian that anyone there, two local women, an old man with a
cane, and a few others.
They quickly realized we were Americans. God
was watching out for us, and of course there was a woman there who used to
live in America, and who spoke both languages fluently. While the
pastor read from Romans, the tiny congregation
whispered and schemed, trying to best accommodate us. Soon enough,
the jolly old pastor was speaking, and Judy, the American, was taking
detailed notes. Every so often, he would step down and hand her a
page of his, and then go back to preaching. When he finished, she
stood up and spoke in English, speaking about Jacob's dream of the
stairs to heaven, and how Freud's analysis of it was correct but on
far too small a scale. The sermon concluded, they passed a plate and
then we sang, oh yes we sang, in Italian hymnals, with no idea. We
made what can only be described as a joyful noise to the Lord.
But
I'm not finished. No, and neither were they. Afterwards, they announced
that the next week was a communion Sunday, and that they wanted us to
join them again. The old man in the congregation stood up and told us
a few things about the church— how it was over 900 years old, and
that the inventor of the piano was buried under its walls. At this
juncture, the pastor pressed a few keys and accidentally shut his fingers in the unused
piano in the corner of the room, letting out quite a cacophonous
clang. So the church gathered round us, and we talked with them for a
while. The woman who translated was not a regular member, but had
happened to be there that day, and she agreed to come back the next week to help the rest of us. As we talked, the pastor clambered onto a
pew to look at Seth eye to eye, and with a heavy accent asked,
“Basketball?” We practically died laughing. It was an amazing experience.
So, to cut a long
story short, we got lost, stumbled into a church, and found ourselves
exactly where we needed to be. Oh, and did I forget to say that Caleb
is going to play the piano there next week? I believe I did.
Oh-my-gosh-my-interface-is-in-Italian
The next day, Thursday, was fantastic. Leigh told us the night before that we had to be at breakfast at 8:30, so I set my alarm to give myself an hour, as though I were back at mandala. Well, when my alarm woke me up at 7:30, I realized our mornings had just become a lot easier. All we have to do here is wake up, dress up, and show up. So we had our breakfast, very light food, and then we walked to the center of Settignano to ride the bus. Pietro had a tour planned, and we followed it gladly.
Leaving specific visits to other days, he took us on a general tour of the city, showing us all the main attractions and museums. We bussed into the Piazza San Marco and walked from there to the Duomo at the center of the city, the dome of the Santa Maria del Fiore. Pietro gave us twenty minutes to walk around and meet back up, and we used the time well. The streets were absolutely packed, and even so early in the trip, we felt a sense of deja vu looking at the crowd. Most of the street venders here are selling really cheap generic stuff, and we always see the same five venders. First is the man selling prints of the art in the city. The second sells little splattering balls which he throws lazily at a board on the ground. The third has a display of hats, and the fourth has a rack of sunglasses. Fifth is a man selling wooden letters which connect in a train. There were a few more original people among them, like the people painting impressions of people.
Gracsyn and I strolled around the Duomo together, and one of the artists called her over. “Mia bella! You are so beautiful!” he called with gestures, pinching his own face to point out her dimples. She couldn't help but smile. He spoke good English and offered to sketch us together, my face on David's body, and the two of us in front of the duomo. We declined, but thanked him, and walked waving away. She wiped her cheeks free of four Italian kisses.
On the other side of the dome, we met a lady playing her violin in the echoing street. We stood mesmerized for ten minutes, until more of our group met us and we all went back to find Pietro. Our guide told us later that most towns in Italy, especially the large ones, have two main squares: the religious and the political centers. In Florence, the towers of the two buildings are built to exactly the same height, to symbolize equality of power. It was to this second square that we went next, to the Palazzo Veccio, or “old palace”. We saw the replica of Michelangelo's David standing out on the square, flanked by several other giant statues. We only stayed a few minutes before we flew off to the Ponte Veccio, the old bridge, lined with both beautiful romantic vistas and jewelers, suggesting that it has been carefully engineered to bring revenue in from wedding proposals. From the bridge, we walked east along the Arno river, past shops and stores until we got to a stairway leading up to the piazza Michelangelo, which held one of the grandest views of the city which we have seen. We ate there and found gelatto at the bottom of the hill on our way back home.
Leaving specific visits to other days, he took us on a general tour of the city, showing us all the main attractions and museums. We bussed into the Piazza San Marco and walked from there to the Duomo at the center of the city, the dome of the Santa Maria del Fiore. Pietro gave us twenty minutes to walk around and meet back up, and we used the time well. The streets were absolutely packed, and even so early in the trip, we felt a sense of deja vu looking at the crowd. Most of the street venders here are selling really cheap generic stuff, and we always see the same five venders. First is the man selling prints of the art in the city. The second sells little splattering balls which he throws lazily at a board on the ground. The third has a display of hats, and the fourth has a rack of sunglasses. Fifth is a man selling wooden letters which connect in a train. There were a few more original people among them, like the people painting impressions of people.
Gracsyn and I strolled around the Duomo together, and one of the artists called her over. “Mia bella! You are so beautiful!” he called with gestures, pinching his own face to point out her dimples. She couldn't help but smile. He spoke good English and offered to sketch us together, my face on David's body, and the two of us in front of the duomo. We declined, but thanked him, and walked waving away. She wiped her cheeks free of four Italian kisses.
On the other side of the dome, we met a lady playing her violin in the echoing street. We stood mesmerized for ten minutes, until more of our group met us and we all went back to find Pietro. Our guide told us later that most towns in Italy, especially the large ones, have two main squares: the religious and the political centers. In Florence, the towers of the two buildings are built to exactly the same height, to symbolize equality of power. It was to this second square that we went next, to the Palazzo Veccio, or “old palace”. We saw the replica of Michelangelo's David standing out on the square, flanked by several other giant statues. We only stayed a few minutes before we flew off to the Ponte Veccio, the old bridge, lined with both beautiful romantic vistas and jewelers, suggesting that it has been carefully engineered to bring revenue in from wedding proposals. From the bridge, we walked east along the Arno river, past shops and stores until we got to a stairway leading up to the piazza Michelangelo, which held one of the grandest views of the city which we have seen. We ate there and found gelatto at the bottom of the hill on our way back home.
Friday, August 30, 2013
Hopping the Pond
Bongiorno! What a day it has been. Actually, two. Three? I can’t quite tell. We made it to Florence though! So Tuesday was just like any other day as we went to school, except for the pile of bags by each of our doors. As we sat in music class with Caleb, our drivers, Mr. Bortins, Mr. Bianco, and Mrs. Harvey, drove to the villas and loaded the cars. Mrs. Bortins arrived at the house a little before noon, and we left almost immediately. The ride there was cramped, hot, and smelly— at least for the guys. The girls enjoyed a little more leg space, and the chaperones had more room than they could use. C’est la vie. It gave us some perspective later, when we were on the plane.
We got to the airport with five hours to spare and set out to enjoy ourselves. We parked our bags by the gate and split up to explore the airport. Something about airports brings out a spirit of playfulness in me. Maybe it’s the fact that everyone there is in transit and won’t see me again, or maybe because airports themselves are still so new to me. I don’t know, but I couldn't sit still. We all moved around quite a bit, adventuring here and there, visiting shops and restaurants, always returning to the group of card-players, readers, and nappers. The time seemed to fly by, and before we knew it, we were boarding the plane to Rome. The time was six o’clock. Flying with a group was a new experience for me, and I enjoyed hopping around from seat to seat, trading companions every so often. Eventually though, I got stuck in a cramped seat on the aisle, and spent the rest of the flight somewhat uncomfortably.
We landed in Rome at nine AM, and promptly set to exploring the city. Our guide Pietro met us at the gate and we took a bus to the city center, then walked to Saint Peter's Basilica. We only had a few hours to spend in Rome, but we decided to splurge on time and money and enter the majestic building. We were amazed. The sheer scale was overwhelming, with every inch of the walls and ceiling covered with ornate decorations. Every little alcove literally hid a priceless work of art— I wandered for half an hour before I noticed the Pieta sitting behind a wall of glass. We gathered in the entryway, waiting for everyone. Unfortunately, our headcount was off, and we didn't notice until we were well out of the building, that our photographer, Austin, had disappeared, engrossed in the sights. He became the first straggler of many.
Pietro led us through the city and over the Tiber river, past a huge old fortress. Street venders called to us, crowds jostled us, and we laughed our way to dinner at a sweet little indoor eatery, so far out of the way of normal tours that they didn't speak english. Ordering Italian food, in Italian, from Italians, was quite an experience. Most of us ended up with our own personal fourteen inch pizzas. That being said, the food was excellent. We tossed around Italian phrases from Anna Harvey's book, and Caleb got way too excited at everything. He's enjoying Italy to no end.
We finished and left for the bus, our brief stay in Rome exhausted and exhausting. Whether or not we slept on the plane, we were all tired, and the bus to Florence was full of sleeping bodies. The last hour into Florence passed quickly as we strained our eyes to catch every detail about the countryside. The first difference I noticed from America was the dirt. The clayish brown earth, tossed up in large unbroken clods, was unlike the darker loam in Vermont, or the sandy soil of North Carolina. We arrived in Florence in the afternoon, bussed through the city, and walked to the Villa Morghen from the square at Settignano. I had heard a lot of racial stereotypes about Italian drivers, but I never expected them to all be true. These people are the fastest and most controlled drivers I have ever seen, whether they're piloting a Vespa or a bus.
We settled in, napped, cleaned up, and met for dinner at seven. While our hunger certainly contributed to the quality of the meal, I have no doubt that the homemade lasagna and fresh Italian bread were the best I've ever had. It was an amazing meal. With nothing else on our agenda, we spent the rest of the evening lounging on the porch, drinking in the beautiful city and the rays from the setting sun. We turned in early, preparing for a long day in Florence.
We got to the airport with five hours to spare and set out to enjoy ourselves. We parked our bags by the gate and split up to explore the airport. Something about airports brings out a spirit of playfulness in me. Maybe it’s the fact that everyone there is in transit and won’t see me again, or maybe because airports themselves are still so new to me. I don’t know, but I couldn't sit still. We all moved around quite a bit, adventuring here and there, visiting shops and restaurants, always returning to the group of card-players, readers, and nappers. The time seemed to fly by, and before we knew it, we were boarding the plane to Rome. The time was six o’clock. Flying with a group was a new experience for me, and I enjoyed hopping around from seat to seat, trading companions every so often. Eventually though, I got stuck in a cramped seat on the aisle, and spent the rest of the flight somewhat uncomfortably.
We landed in Rome at nine AM, and promptly set to exploring the city. Our guide Pietro met us at the gate and we took a bus to the city center, then walked to Saint Peter's Basilica. We only had a few hours to spend in Rome, but we decided to splurge on time and money and enter the majestic building. We were amazed. The sheer scale was overwhelming, with every inch of the walls and ceiling covered with ornate decorations. Every little alcove literally hid a priceless work of art— I wandered for half an hour before I noticed the Pieta sitting behind a wall of glass. We gathered in the entryway, waiting for everyone. Unfortunately, our headcount was off, and we didn't notice until we were well out of the building, that our photographer, Austin, had disappeared, engrossed in the sights. He became the first straggler of many.
Pietro led us through the city and over the Tiber river, past a huge old fortress. Street venders called to us, crowds jostled us, and we laughed our way to dinner at a sweet little indoor eatery, so far out of the way of normal tours that they didn't speak english. Ordering Italian food, in Italian, from Italians, was quite an experience. Most of us ended up with our own personal fourteen inch pizzas. That being said, the food was excellent. We tossed around Italian phrases from Anna Harvey's book, and Caleb got way too excited at everything. He's enjoying Italy to no end.
We finished and left for the bus, our brief stay in Rome exhausted and exhausting. Whether or not we slept on the plane, we were all tired, and the bus to Florence was full of sleeping bodies. The last hour into Florence passed quickly as we strained our eyes to catch every detail about the countryside. The first difference I noticed from America was the dirt. The clayish brown earth, tossed up in large unbroken clods, was unlike the darker loam in Vermont, or the sandy soil of North Carolina. We arrived in Florence in the afternoon, bussed through the city, and walked to the Villa Morghen from the square at Settignano. I had heard a lot of racial stereotypes about Italian drivers, but I never expected them to all be true. These people are the fastest and most controlled drivers I have ever seen, whether they're piloting a Vespa or a bus.
We settled in, napped, cleaned up, and met for dinner at seven. While our hunger certainly contributed to the quality of the meal, I have no doubt that the homemade lasagna and fresh Italian bread were the best I've ever had. It was an amazing meal. With nothing else on our agenda, we spent the rest of the evening lounging on the porch, drinking in the beautiful city and the rays from the setting sun. We turned in early, preparing for a long day in Florence.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Leigh: From Functions to Florence in twelve-point-two hours!
Hello everyone! Whew! It's been crazy here, let me tell you. I can't believe we leave for Italy in less than twenty-four hours. By the time some of you read this, we'll actually be there! I'm coming to you from the hammock outside Villa Heorot, where I'm watching people make last minute preparations to the houses. While we're gone, a crew of roofers are going to redo all the old villa roofs. We're all more or less ready to go— though I suppose we have to be at this point. The villa center would normally be bustling with this many fellows home from work, but everyone is either cleaning or packing. I know everyone is tired of waiting. We just want it to be tomorrow already. I can't wait to look out my window and see the rolling hills of Tuscany. Having never been out of the country, let alone to Europe, I couldn't be more excited! Unfortunately, what with everything we have been doing and everything we have left to do, I'll have to keep this somewhat brief. Don't worry though, I'll make it up to you with letters every other day from Villa Morghen.
So the week was pretty simple. Most days we just did our math, followed the music, and went to work. By Thursday we were ready for a change. The girls all scheduled a night out at the Bortins, so the guys went on an adventure by ourselves. (It was awesome and it was better.) We ended up reluctantly meeting to share the water at the Bortins, then it was adios again, and the night continued. Everyone enjoyed themselves and the relaxation, something we all saw the next day in class.
Friday was a good day. We all enjoyed class and got along well. Mrs. Bortins let us stay home from work to prepare if we needed to. While most of us did, Laura went to get a long day of recording, and Chris, Zach and I came along for the ride. Mr. Infantino was expecting us early, and we spent the first half hour at his house looking at pictures from his trip to Florence and Venice and listening to practical advice on traveling. So after work, we went to the park to climb trees, and from there into town to eat and do some shopping. If the week was defined by routine, the resulting weekend was an endless stream of trips to town. Two more trips were made that night alone.
We caught up on a little sleep on Saturday and got back to our preparations. The villa was practically dead all morning, with everyone either sleeping or gone. Samuel went on a spontaneous trip to the beach with the Bortins, while Alec, Seth, and David went to a rugby game. Christopher and Olivia's families came to visit, and Mrs. Knooihuizen made pasta for anyone who cared to drop by. (We cared. Very much.) After everyone left, a bunch of us went to the Bortins' to watch Casablanca. We turned in early to get ready for Sunday.
Sunday went by too quickly, and we enjoyed every fleeting minute. Pastor Skogen embarrassed Caleb from the pulpit twice, garnering laughs from the whole congregation, but none louder than ours. We love Caleb, and though we tease him quite a lot, we really appreciate him more than we usually let on. Since Sunday afternoon, we've been cleaning and packing. We washed all the cars and houses and did oodles of laundry. After class and music this morning, the craziness resumed. At this point, everything has been taken care of, and we're simply waiting for tomorrow. I can't believe we have class though. Honestly, I don't mind. I'm ready, and we might as well. That is so very like Mrs. Bortins though, to go straight from math to Italy, and to make sure we don't waste a second of our time.
Ladies and Gentlemen, when next you hear from me, I will be in Europe, sitting on a hillside somewhere, sharing the same air as Leonardo da Vinci and the Caesars.
Arrivederci!
Barnabas
So the week was pretty simple. Most days we just did our math, followed the music, and went to work. By Thursday we were ready for a change. The girls all scheduled a night out at the Bortins, so the guys went on an adventure by ourselves. (It was awesome and it was better.) We ended up reluctantly meeting to share the water at the Bortins, then it was adios again, and the night continued. Everyone enjoyed themselves and the relaxation, something we all saw the next day in class.
Friday was a good day. We all enjoyed class and got along well. Mrs. Bortins let us stay home from work to prepare if we needed to. While most of us did, Laura went to get a long day of recording, and Chris, Zach and I came along for the ride. Mr. Infantino was expecting us early, and we spent the first half hour at his house looking at pictures from his trip to Florence and Venice and listening to practical advice on traveling. So after work, we went to the park to climb trees, and from there into town to eat and do some shopping. If the week was defined by routine, the resulting weekend was an endless stream of trips to town. Two more trips were made that night alone.
We caught up on a little sleep on Saturday and got back to our preparations. The villa was practically dead all morning, with everyone either sleeping or gone. Samuel went on a spontaneous trip to the beach with the Bortins, while Alec, Seth, and David went to a rugby game. Christopher and Olivia's families came to visit, and Mrs. Knooihuizen made pasta for anyone who cared to drop by. (We cared. Very much.) After everyone left, a bunch of us went to the Bortins' to watch Casablanca. We turned in early to get ready for Sunday.
Sunday went by too quickly, and we enjoyed every fleeting minute. Pastor Skogen embarrassed Caleb from the pulpit twice, garnering laughs from the whole congregation, but none louder than ours. We love Caleb, and though we tease him quite a lot, we really appreciate him more than we usually let on. Since Sunday afternoon, we've been cleaning and packing. We washed all the cars and houses and did oodles of laundry. After class and music this morning, the craziness resumed. At this point, everything has been taken care of, and we're simply waiting for tomorrow. I can't believe we have class though. Honestly, I don't mind. I'm ready, and we might as well. That is so very like Mrs. Bortins though, to go straight from math to Italy, and to make sure we don't waste a second of our time.
Ladies and Gentlemen, when next you hear from me, I will be in Europe, sitting on a hillside somewhere, sharing the same air as Leonardo da Vinci and the Caesars.
Arrivederci!
Barnabas
Monday, August 19, 2013
How Big is God?
Hello and Bongiorno! As Italy gets closer, I find its words constantly on the tip of my tongue; we're all so excited. This week is very regular, and without an astronomer coming, we the students are focusing more on preparing for the trip. But enough of that. You came to hear about our week, and boy do I have things to tell!
I believe we left off on Tuesday evening. Well, after finishing work, the entire fellowship, including Caleb and his family, piled into various vehicles and sped into Southern Pines. Jacob Crowell's family had invited us all to dinner at their beautiful house. His father cooked a fantastic Japanese feast which satisfied even the most energetic of the teenagers. We had a fantastic time there. Most of us brought bathing suits and jumped in their illuminated pool, swimming and diving in the heavy rain. Our feats of aerobatics grew to new levels as we all pushed our limits. We all saw a few great spectacles. Once we'd worn ourselves out, we returned to the house and talked with our hosts about Italy. They had just come from a similar trip and had plenty to say. We all drank in every word and had to tear ourselves away from the conversation too early. That night, we dreamed of Rome and the things we would see there.
We came down to earth the next day with the practicality of SAT testing. David Bortins has joined us in the mornings to prepare for his own SAT. Earlier in the year, Leigh said she was going to take the test along with all of us. I hope she does. As much stress as we'll have over that October morning, I'm looking forward to it. I've taken the SAT twice before, and I felt very isolated each time. This time, we go in as a fellowship. And to a homeschooler like me? Well that's golden.
So Wednesday morning passed in mathematics, and Caleb surprised us with a free afternoon. We went home for lunch and had a much appreciated hour of free time. We went back to the house after work for an hour of Astronomy. Mrs. Leigh introduced us to our upcoming guest, James Burr, a scientist and inventor. We watched a clip of one of his lectures and listened to him sing a chorus which he repeated for us later. It read like this:
How big is God, how big and wide is His domain/
To try to tell these lips can only start/
He's big enough to rule his mighty universe/
Yet small enough to live within my heart.
We left at about nine o'clock and finished out our evening at the villas.
When I walked out of my door on Thursday, I knew I was in for a treat. There is a certain kind of day which comes along only once or twice in a summer. The sun shines brightly, but never in your eyes. The breeze wicks away its heat before it can stick to your skin. The air feels like gossamer, and if you strain your senses, you can sometimes catch a glimpse of fairies peeking out from between the flowers in the garden. This was one such day. Samuel, Elizabeth, and I agreed that it felt like home in Vermont. We ended math earlier than normal, and fit music in before lunch. This gave us another long lunch break, and we used it well, most of us enjoying the pleasant outdoors. Needless to say, by the time I drove to work, I was a little giddy with the day. I was so enamored with memories of Maine, and telling Laura about how much I miss visiting it, that I missed my turn onto Vermont Avenue. I knew I could just go around by the next road, so I continued. Well, of course that road was Maine Avenue. It shut me up for the rest of the drive. God is so detailed, and he's paying attention. After work, a few of us played basketball in the driveway until William and Anna dragged a bunch of us to a nearby house to party with their wonderfully nerdy friends. It was another good night.
We slept in an hour on Friday and woke up excited for the weekend. When we got to the house, Jacob Skogen, Caleb's brother and pastor-in-training led us in a full hour of Bible study. We sang our hearts out and moved on to an hour of music and then of math to show our guest how we do things here. We had a few more great discussions over lunch, including the place of government in education and how God can be outside of time. It was after lunch though when things really took off. The sky was grey all day, but Mr. Burr took us on a tour of the marvels of the universe for the next five hours. This man understands very well that the heavens declare the glory of God. We ended at dinner time and spent the rest of the evening hanging around the house. Some of the guys went swimming and soon discovered that the water was just too cold, so we returned to the beach, intending to go back to the house. Well, two hours later, we had constructed a beautiful Aztec city in the sand with a three-foot-tall pyramid in the center. Once we realized we could use our geometric notions to help build it, we resolved to make it excellent, and I believe we succeeded. We watched the sunset through the silhouette of our kingdom and were back by nightfall, well satisfied and ready for more shenanigans. Gathering a horde of people and some leftovers from the fridge, we moved a few couches into the classroom and watched Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers together. All in all, it was a very productive day.
The next morning we were a little more sluggish than usual as we started, but we made up for it with our excited participation. Unfortunately, the sky was completely overcast again, and we couldn't go out. Mr. Burr is an expert on telescopes. He's dyslexic and he says that he checked out of high school long before he actually graduated, but as we talked to him on Saturday, we could see that he was brilliant. He's the kind of man who can solve any complicated problem with a block of wood and a bit of string. I know a lot of guys like this who work on farms and out in the woods, but Mr. Burr builds precision telescopes for a living. Coupled with his knack for mechanics, this gift has served him well, and we got to see some of the results of his work. He brought a compact telescope with him, and while we couldn't see into the sky, we were able to look across the lake at the far shore with amazing clarity. Our astronomy turned to bird watching when we caught sight of a beautiful heron and found that we could actually count its feathers. During lunch, the clouds parted briefly, and some of us were able to see the sun through his solar telescope. We had a few hours to kill after lunch. The girls ran off to a shoe store, and the guys stayed at the house together, talking, playing instruments, and reading out loud. He resumed at three, demonstrating the attributes of God apparent in nature, and after dinner we came back for our final class.
Over the two short days he had shared some amazingly technical marvels with us. Now, for two hours, he simply showed us the glories of the sky. We saw giant clouds of gas and dust, marvelously detailed, yet with stars thousands of times bigger than our sun standing between them and us, just specks of light. The scale of the universe is majestic. The scale of the God who builds that, yet who listens to my conversation and winks at me through a missed turn and a street sign is entirely unfathomable. I can't comprehend it. As Mr. Burr spoke, he welled up until he finally broke down and cried, and, still crying, prayed over us. There wasn't a dry eye in the room as we surrounded him with our hugs. I don't think I'll ever forget this weekend with him.
Compared with our time with him, the rest of the weekend seems flat, but a few noteworthy things did happen, so I'll mention them here. First of all, Anna turned eighteen on Sunday. A few nameless fellows decorated her car with washable paint, and filled it full of balloons. Seth joined choir at church. Anna's family threw a party and I got to spend time with her lovely grandmother, a woman full of stories and wisdom. We had a quiet night. Today was a little different. With nothing coming up this week, Leigh is putting an emphasis on the SAT math. We took two tests back to back and then she issued us an unrelated challenge. Brunelleschi, the genius who figured out how to build the dome of Santa Maria del Fiore, the crowning glory of Florence, could measure great heights with nothing but a mirror and a measuring stick. These were the tools she gave us, and she told us to find the height of the tallest pillar in her house. While we figured the process out, we had some trouble with finding the right numbers. We agreed to try at another time, this time with something we knew the height of. I suggested Brunelleschi dome itself, and thus the new challenge was set. After lunch, the men did choir alone, preparing for the November celebration. That brings us to where we are now, and where I will leave you for the night.
There is one thing left, and that is that I'm not sure what to do with the updates while we're in Italy. I would appreciate your input. What do you think? Should I continue it by week, post briefly but with more frequency, or simply save it for when I get home? Let me know in the comments below, on Facebook, or, if you want to relay it through Caleb, your child, or even a carrier pigeon, don't let me discourage you.
Until next time, arrivederci!
Barnabas
I believe we left off on Tuesday evening. Well, after finishing work, the entire fellowship, including Caleb and his family, piled into various vehicles and sped into Southern Pines. Jacob Crowell's family had invited us all to dinner at their beautiful house. His father cooked a fantastic Japanese feast which satisfied even the most energetic of the teenagers. We had a fantastic time there. Most of us brought bathing suits and jumped in their illuminated pool, swimming and diving in the heavy rain. Our feats of aerobatics grew to new levels as we all pushed our limits. We all saw a few great spectacles. Once we'd worn ourselves out, we returned to the house and talked with our hosts about Italy. They had just come from a similar trip and had plenty to say. We all drank in every word and had to tear ourselves away from the conversation too early. That night, we dreamed of Rome and the things we would see there.
We came down to earth the next day with the practicality of SAT testing. David Bortins has joined us in the mornings to prepare for his own SAT. Earlier in the year, Leigh said she was going to take the test along with all of us. I hope she does. As much stress as we'll have over that October morning, I'm looking forward to it. I've taken the SAT twice before, and I felt very isolated each time. This time, we go in as a fellowship. And to a homeschooler like me? Well that's golden.
So Wednesday morning passed in mathematics, and Caleb surprised us with a free afternoon. We went home for lunch and had a much appreciated hour of free time. We went back to the house after work for an hour of Astronomy. Mrs. Leigh introduced us to our upcoming guest, James Burr, a scientist and inventor. We watched a clip of one of his lectures and listened to him sing a chorus which he repeated for us later. It read like this:
How big is God, how big and wide is His domain/
To try to tell these lips can only start/
He's big enough to rule his mighty universe/
Yet small enough to live within my heart.
We left at about nine o'clock and finished out our evening at the villas.
When I walked out of my door on Thursday, I knew I was in for a treat. There is a certain kind of day which comes along only once or twice in a summer. The sun shines brightly, but never in your eyes. The breeze wicks away its heat before it can stick to your skin. The air feels like gossamer, and if you strain your senses, you can sometimes catch a glimpse of fairies peeking out from between the flowers in the garden. This was one such day. Samuel, Elizabeth, and I agreed that it felt like home in Vermont. We ended math earlier than normal, and fit music in before lunch. This gave us another long lunch break, and we used it well, most of us enjoying the pleasant outdoors. Needless to say, by the time I drove to work, I was a little giddy with the day. I was so enamored with memories of Maine, and telling Laura about how much I miss visiting it, that I missed my turn onto Vermont Avenue. I knew I could just go around by the next road, so I continued. Well, of course that road was Maine Avenue. It shut me up for the rest of the drive. God is so detailed, and he's paying attention. After work, a few of us played basketball in the driveway until William and Anna dragged a bunch of us to a nearby house to party with their wonderfully nerdy friends. It was another good night.
We slept in an hour on Friday and woke up excited for the weekend. When we got to the house, Jacob Skogen, Caleb's brother and pastor-in-training led us in a full hour of Bible study. We sang our hearts out and moved on to an hour of music and then of math to show our guest how we do things here. We had a few more great discussions over lunch, including the place of government in education and how God can be outside of time. It was after lunch though when things really took off. The sky was grey all day, but Mr. Burr took us on a tour of the marvels of the universe for the next five hours. This man understands very well that the heavens declare the glory of God. We ended at dinner time and spent the rest of the evening hanging around the house. Some of the guys went swimming and soon discovered that the water was just too cold, so we returned to the beach, intending to go back to the house. Well, two hours later, we had constructed a beautiful Aztec city in the sand with a three-foot-tall pyramid in the center. Once we realized we could use our geometric notions to help build it, we resolved to make it excellent, and I believe we succeeded. We watched the sunset through the silhouette of our kingdom and were back by nightfall, well satisfied and ready for more shenanigans. Gathering a horde of people and some leftovers from the fridge, we moved a few couches into the classroom and watched Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers together. All in all, it was a very productive day.
The next morning we were a little more sluggish than usual as we started, but we made up for it with our excited participation. Unfortunately, the sky was completely overcast again, and we couldn't go out. Mr. Burr is an expert on telescopes. He's dyslexic and he says that he checked out of high school long before he actually graduated, but as we talked to him on Saturday, we could see that he was brilliant. He's the kind of man who can solve any complicated problem with a block of wood and a bit of string. I know a lot of guys like this who work on farms and out in the woods, but Mr. Burr builds precision telescopes for a living. Coupled with his knack for mechanics, this gift has served him well, and we got to see some of the results of his work. He brought a compact telescope with him, and while we couldn't see into the sky, we were able to look across the lake at the far shore with amazing clarity. Our astronomy turned to bird watching when we caught sight of a beautiful heron and found that we could actually count its feathers. During lunch, the clouds parted briefly, and some of us were able to see the sun through his solar telescope. We had a few hours to kill after lunch. The girls ran off to a shoe store, and the guys stayed at the house together, talking, playing instruments, and reading out loud. He resumed at three, demonstrating the attributes of God apparent in nature, and after dinner we came back for our final class.
Over the two short days he had shared some amazingly technical marvels with us. Now, for two hours, he simply showed us the glories of the sky. We saw giant clouds of gas and dust, marvelously detailed, yet with stars thousands of times bigger than our sun standing between them and us, just specks of light. The scale of the universe is majestic. The scale of the God who builds that, yet who listens to my conversation and winks at me through a missed turn and a street sign is entirely unfathomable. I can't comprehend it. As Mr. Burr spoke, he welled up until he finally broke down and cried, and, still crying, prayed over us. There wasn't a dry eye in the room as we surrounded him with our hugs. I don't think I'll ever forget this weekend with him.
Compared with our time with him, the rest of the weekend seems flat, but a few noteworthy things did happen, so I'll mention them here. First of all, Anna turned eighteen on Sunday. A few nameless fellows decorated her car with washable paint, and filled it full of balloons. Seth joined choir at church. Anna's family threw a party and I got to spend time with her lovely grandmother, a woman full of stories and wisdom. We had a quiet night. Today was a little different. With nothing coming up this week, Leigh is putting an emphasis on the SAT math. We took two tests back to back and then she issued us an unrelated challenge. Brunelleschi, the genius who figured out how to build the dome of Santa Maria del Fiore, the crowning glory of Florence, could measure great heights with nothing but a mirror and a measuring stick. These were the tools she gave us, and she told us to find the height of the tallest pillar in her house. While we figured the process out, we had some trouble with finding the right numbers. We agreed to try at another time, this time with something we knew the height of. I suggested Brunelleschi dome itself, and thus the new challenge was set. After lunch, the men did choir alone, preparing for the November celebration. That brings us to where we are now, and where I will leave you for the night.
There is one thing left, and that is that I'm not sure what to do with the updates while we're in Italy. I would appreciate your input. What do you think? Should I continue it by week, post briefly but with more frequency, or simply save it for when I get home? Let me know in the comments below, on Facebook, or, if you want to relay it through Caleb, your child, or even a carrier pigeon, don't let me discourage you.
Until next time, arrivederci!
Barnabas
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Ten Thousand Steps to Perfection
A
month and a half ago, we walked into the classroom to a few videos
about an amazing display of sand, sound and steel. The first video
showed a metal plate, mounted on a few sturdy legs and sprinkled with
sand. A man came onscreen and coaxed a ringing noise from the plate
with the help of a violin bow. As the noise built in intensity, we
all gasped; the sand slowly drifted into complex patterns, seemingly
of its own volition. While we were still trying to understand that,
the man dampened the corner of the plate with one finger and again
drew the bow across its edge. It rang out clearly, this time with a
lower sound, and the sand slid smoothly into a new pattern. With his
bow and fingers, the engineer in the video pulled pattern after
pattern from the sand. We all loved it. Just when we thought we had
it figured out, Leigh put on another video. In the center of the
frame stood a round old table, weighed down with four piles of
multicolored sand. Another hand came on-screen and began dragging a
rubber mallet across the top of the table. It let out a similar
ringing noise and the sand began immediately to spread into a star
pattern. As we saw differences and similarities between this video
and the last, we realized that we didn't understand the phenomenon as
much as we thought. A final video showed the same phenomenon as the
first two, but instead of an acoustic sound, the designer had hooked
the plate up to a set of speakers and was using a tone generator to
make it ring.
Leigh turned the TV off and stepped to the front to ask us a few questions and make us think about what we'd watched. After a few minutes of discussion, she called for attention and told us that what we were talking about was a device called a Chladni Plate, named after Ernst Chladni, an 18th century scientist who pioneered studies in sound and physics. Splitting into three teams, we awaited our assignment. She gave us six weeks and thirty dollars to build a plate of our own. With that, she left the room and we were left to our own devices. I led one team, Austin led another, and Christopher took the third. We met that evening and talked through some ideas, trying to make sure we didn't overlap on each others projects. My original plan was to experiment with multiple plates and a myriad of tools to gain a better understanding, Austin's goal was to program and build an electronic plate like the final example, and Christopher thriftily decided to try to replicate that first plate using as little money as possible.
We weren't always thinking about it, but we made pretty steady progress over the next few weeks. We all agreed that a Chladni Plate has roughly three elements: a resonating surface, a tool to resonate it with, and an indicator, such as sand, to show the sound waves. To understand the plate, each of the leaders assigned a few people to research various aspects of the plate. One of the researchers commented on the project saying, “It was very enjoyable to me, as I had never considered in detail how sound waves produced distinct physical patterns.” Someone else told me, “I liked the project because it was unique; not something you see every day.” The research came along well, though it got extremely technical at times. Even so, we seemed to understand the concepts well enough. Unfortunately, because the project had so few parts, the leaders weren't able to give everyone a lot to do. Gathering feedback after the project, we heard one criticism more than any other: that the groups were too large and some people felt like their potential was being wasted.
Austin and Samuel were well into the programming phase of their setup by the time we started assembling our plate. With more than a week to spare, my group left to find a plate. By this time, we had decided to build one thing which we knew would work before going off on an experimental binge. So the first thing we had to find was something which would resonate. At the hardware store, we found a twelve-by-eighteen inch steel plate which rang beautifully when we tapped it. We thought it was perfect, so we picked it up, along with a post to support it on, a bolt to attach it with, and a few washers to keep it away from the wood. Because we had seen it work in an abundance of videos, we also ordered a cheap violin bow online.
The problems came when we put it all together. Though the suspended plate had a great ring to it, the flimsy bow couldn't get a squeak out of it. We had been counting on the bow to work, so when it failed, we began to worry. As the deadline approached, the development side of our team tried everything to get the plate to work. No matter what we tried, we couldn't reproduce the patterns which Ernst Chladni discovered. The same story pervaded each team. “It was fun,” wrote one of the fellows, “but a bit directionless and frustrating. We knew our plate wasn't working right, but we couldn't figure out the exact problem, let alone the solution.”
The night before we had to present, we found ourselves clustered in three dejected groups, trying final experiments and more importantly, brainstorming problems and solutions. Our only hope lay in the presentations we had been preparing. If we couldn't make the plates work, we could at least attempt to understand them.
We presented the next day.. As we expected, none of the plates worked like we wanted them to, and while we were able to display the beginnings of some hazy patterns, they were nothing like the wild curves which we would have indicated our success. Leigh brought a friend, someone who knew the ins and outs of Chladni plates, to observe our attempts. He talked with us and gave us some information we hadn't found elsewhere, vital, practical tips for building a working plate. He left and we continued talking through our problems. We all had money left from the original supply, so we resolved to revisit the plates after we return from Italy and our schedules are a little less hectic.
Overall, the project was a great experience. We had the chance to work together to create something exciting, and while the plates didn't quite work the right way, we had a great time exploring them with each other. Some of us gained insight into our own skills, like one of Austin's teammates who said, “I really enjoyed it. I like electronics work, but hadn't had much hands-on experience until now. My team leader taught me a lot in a subject I might want to pursue.” Some dug in to building the plate itself, and most people enjoyed the communal aspect. It pushed everyone involved and forced us to try to work through seemingly impossible difficulties. None of us were fully comfortable, and we were forced to adapt to a tough situation. Everyone was fully committed to seeing it through, and personally, I don't think I've ever enjoyed working on a group project more, even though we were all disappointed and frustrated by the outcome. We take comfort knowing that we're not finished, and we echo the words of Thomas Edison, saying, “We have not failed, we have just found ten thousand ways not to build a Chladni Plate."
Leigh turned the TV off and stepped to the front to ask us a few questions and make us think about what we'd watched. After a few minutes of discussion, she called for attention and told us that what we were talking about was a device called a Chladni Plate, named after Ernst Chladni, an 18th century scientist who pioneered studies in sound and physics. Splitting into three teams, we awaited our assignment. She gave us six weeks and thirty dollars to build a plate of our own. With that, she left the room and we were left to our own devices. I led one team, Austin led another, and Christopher took the third. We met that evening and talked through some ideas, trying to make sure we didn't overlap on each others projects. My original plan was to experiment with multiple plates and a myriad of tools to gain a better understanding, Austin's goal was to program and build an electronic plate like the final example, and Christopher thriftily decided to try to replicate that first plate using as little money as possible.
We weren't always thinking about it, but we made pretty steady progress over the next few weeks. We all agreed that a Chladni Plate has roughly three elements: a resonating surface, a tool to resonate it with, and an indicator, such as sand, to show the sound waves. To understand the plate, each of the leaders assigned a few people to research various aspects of the plate. One of the researchers commented on the project saying, “It was very enjoyable to me, as I had never considered in detail how sound waves produced distinct physical patterns.” Someone else told me, “I liked the project because it was unique; not something you see every day.” The research came along well, though it got extremely technical at times. Even so, we seemed to understand the concepts well enough. Unfortunately, because the project had so few parts, the leaders weren't able to give everyone a lot to do. Gathering feedback after the project, we heard one criticism more than any other: that the groups were too large and some people felt like their potential was being wasted.
Austin and Samuel were well into the programming phase of their setup by the time we started assembling our plate. With more than a week to spare, my group left to find a plate. By this time, we had decided to build one thing which we knew would work before going off on an experimental binge. So the first thing we had to find was something which would resonate. At the hardware store, we found a twelve-by-eighteen inch steel plate which rang beautifully when we tapped it. We thought it was perfect, so we picked it up, along with a post to support it on, a bolt to attach it with, and a few washers to keep it away from the wood. Because we had seen it work in an abundance of videos, we also ordered a cheap violin bow online.
The problems came when we put it all together. Though the suspended plate had a great ring to it, the flimsy bow couldn't get a squeak out of it. We had been counting on the bow to work, so when it failed, we began to worry. As the deadline approached, the development side of our team tried everything to get the plate to work. No matter what we tried, we couldn't reproduce the patterns which Ernst Chladni discovered. The same story pervaded each team. “It was fun,” wrote one of the fellows, “but a bit directionless and frustrating. We knew our plate wasn't working right, but we couldn't figure out the exact problem, let alone the solution.”
The night before we had to present, we found ourselves clustered in three dejected groups, trying final experiments and more importantly, brainstorming problems and solutions. Our only hope lay in the presentations we had been preparing. If we couldn't make the plates work, we could at least attempt to understand them.
We presented the next day.. As we expected, none of the plates worked like we wanted them to, and while we were able to display the beginnings of some hazy patterns, they were nothing like the wild curves which we would have indicated our success. Leigh brought a friend, someone who knew the ins and outs of Chladni plates, to observe our attempts. He talked with us and gave us some information we hadn't found elsewhere, vital, practical tips for building a working plate. He left and we continued talking through our problems. We all had money left from the original supply, so we resolved to revisit the plates after we return from Italy and our schedules are a little less hectic.
Overall, the project was a great experience. We had the chance to work together to create something exciting, and while the plates didn't quite work the right way, we had a great time exploring them with each other. Some of us gained insight into our own skills, like one of Austin's teammates who said, “I really enjoyed it. I like electronics work, but hadn't had much hands-on experience until now. My team leader taught me a lot in a subject I might want to pursue.” Some dug in to building the plate itself, and most people enjoyed the communal aspect. It pushed everyone involved and forced us to try to work through seemingly impossible difficulties. None of us were fully comfortable, and we were forced to adapt to a tough situation. Everyone was fully committed to seeing it through, and personally, I don't think I've ever enjoyed working on a group project more, even though we were all disappointed and frustrated by the outcome. We take comfort knowing that we're not finished, and we echo the words of Thomas Edison, saying, “We have not failed, we have just found ten thousand ways not to build a Chladni Plate."
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Cloudy with a chance of Astronomy
Hello and welcome back! I'm writing
this from the sound studio in Southern Pines, where Laura is
recording with Danny Infantino, now the proud father of a beautiful
newborn son. It's been a busy week, to say the least. Where did we leave off? Oh yes, Sunday night.
Monday morning was complicated by the start of the Classical Conversations school year, which is just on the cusp of resuming. The warehouse and office have been flooded with more work than before, and a few of the students who work at the warehouse went straight there that morning, leaving earlier than the rest of us who were going to class. While they worked, Leigh wrangled the rest of us through another math-filled morning.
On any given day, our class goes something like this. We start off the day with one of Euclid's geometric propositions, working it out and proving it for ourselves. After that, she usually shows us some mathematical tricks and tips, running us through some exercises to warm up our brains for what comes next: the SAT. We drop the discussion for twenty or twenty-five minutes of beautifully absolute test questions, taken in silence at our desks. After the clock runs down, we briefly check our answers, and Leigh explains how we reach those which we missed. As she satisfies our questions, some of the Fellows work on a second test, exercising their minds still further. By the time we finish, the morning is mostly gone, and we spend the final hour exploring new concepts of calculus, trigonometry, or physics.
Thus Monday morning came and went. We ate lunch and gathered around the piano for choir. Caleb introduced us to a new song: Sing Choirs of New Jerusalem, which we took to immediately. It's not an easy or simple piece, so when we left an hour later, none of us knew it perfectly. We were excited, however, singing and whistling, working on our parts with no intention of stopping. I heard people humming its harmony for days. We gathered after work that night to watch some astronomy videos and prepare for the guest lecturer coming that weekend.
Tuesday felt earlier than other days as we prepared for class. Coming into the Fellowship, I had expected math to be the more challenging of the two main subjects, but so far, music has been the most difficult. This was another full day of music, and between our discussions, debates, and lectures, we found ourselves drained by lunch-time. We found relief in the healing rays of the noonday sun, laying like lizards on the back porch. Soon enough, Caleb called us back in for our more practical music session. We tuned our instruments and listened to his assignment. He told us that we would be working in pairs to develop a unique melody based on a classic chord progression. The simple act of playing music together made up for the heated discussions of the morning, and we left refreshed and in high spirits. Immediately after work, I cracked my Bible to study the Psalm I was going to present the next morning. In the early evening, Tobin arrived to meet with some of us, and my music group still to meet to discuss our end-of-semester presentation. Shortly before midnight, as my housemates and I prepared for the next day, we agreed that the days here are simply too short.
Wednesday brought a new tradition: "Formal Friday— But On Wednesday Because We Have A Guest Coming This Weekend And We Don't Want To Make Him Feel Uncomfortable." (Simplified to FFBOWBWHAGCTWAWDWTMHFU.) Class went quickly by that day, and we soon had our SATs graded and put away. Leigh had something much more exciting to talk about: Italy. She had a list of opportunities for us to go home and consider. Lunch came early, and we spent it in the sun and on computers, deciding between Pisa and Venice, opera and cooking, caves and cliffs. Afterwards, we left for work while the music counsel met, weaving their secrets and spinning our fates.
Thursday was a fairly standard day with math in the morning and more music in the afternoon. As the weekend approached, people started getting more adventurous, forgoing studies in favor of excitement. Some of us just needed a change of pace, and before I knew what was happening, I found myself running errands at Walmart with a bunch of other guys. When we got home, we learned that our guest speaker, Dr. DeYoung, had arrived. Huzzah!
So Friday morning was fantastic. We woke up an hour later than normal with sunlight streaming uncharacteristically through the blinds. With no rush, we leisurely made our way to the house, arriving before morning devotions to meet Dr. DeYoung. Instead of having a student present a Psalm, Leigh invited pastor Skogen to lead us. He spoke clearly, laying out the biblical view on God's divine will and how it applies to our lives. We listened raptly, drinking it in. While the Socratic method of learning through questions and discussion is certainly effective, we enjoyed listening to someone teach plainly from the authority of scripture.
Afterwards, we went to the classroom, where Caleb introduced our guest to us formally. The doctor told us his students called him "Prof", and we were welcome to do the same. We expected him to start on astronomy right away, but Caleb led us in music discussion for the first hour. While we talked, DeYoung sat by, quietly observing. When he finally stood to present, he already had an idea of who we were. (By the end of his stay, he understood most of us; the man is quick and clever.) We had a great time with him over the next two hours as he gave us a crash course on astronomy. As he talked about measuring stars, plotting their movements, and way Halley's Comet slingshots around the sun, we saw the connections to the math concepts we'd been studying. An hour into the class, he sent us outside with rulers and notecards to measure the diameter of the sun. He had barely started explaining it before most of us were delightedly whispering about the elegance of the beautifully simple formula. We took our measurements and returned for more enthralling conversation.
We did something different for lunch. Splitting the main table into quarters, we made little groups and prepared for the "Pig Fest". This is a mode of dinner conversation in which a small group takes one topic and discusses it in detail, over dinner, for a quarter of an hour, at which point they stop, choose another topic, and continue. D. DeYoung sat with the first table, we all dug into our pizza, and Leigh read the first student-generated question. We discussed everything from airport security to the nuances of salvation over that hour. After it was up, Leigh dismissed everyone for twenty minutes, but many of us wanted to talk to Dr. DeYoung, and we surrounded him until Leigh called us in to class. We did math and astronomy for another few hours, and we ended in time to enjoy a few hours of sun before dinner. Most of us went swimming, though a few of us studied or played ping-pong. We met back at the house for supper together and with that done, we had another hour of class, built a fire by the lake and sat around it, telling stories and continuing to ask questions of DeYoung. Sadly, it was too cloudy to see anything, but DeYoung went out on the motorboat with Leigh and a few of the students anyway, finding a few gaps in the clouds to see the sky through. We left tired but satisfied. Unfortunately, the weekend mindset had ambushed us, and though we had to rise the next morning, some of us ignored our bodies' signals and decided to stay up late instead.
Saturday came too early. We rose at the same time as before and drove to the house. The pastor led our devotions again, and after a rousing rendition of Sing Choirs of New Jerusalem, we moved on to astronomy. This time he had all day, and he used it well. He finished his astronomy lecture by having us measure the position of the sun in its annual course at noon, and after lunch, he presented a comparison of theistic evolution and creationism before moving on to our questions. We took one more break for the afternoon, everyone heading his or her own way. It was a lovely day. We went out on the lake, wakeboarding and tubing, or we just laid in the sun, taking turns reading out loud. After supper, we met one last time, dragging class out as long as we could. When he finally closed, we stood and clapped. We were hoping he could come stargazing with us, but once again, the night was too cloudy.
On Sunday morning, most of us tried to get a little extra sleep. A diminished and heavy-lidded group trickled in to church that day. We heard Pastor Skogen preach again, and followed familiar threads through his sermon which he had laid down while he was leading us. When he talks, people listen, and we woke up. Afterwards, we said our final goodbyes to our new-found friend and left, though he was staying at Leigh's for a few more hours. Anna Harvey left to visit an old friend who had just returned from England, and many of the Fellows went with her. Tobin gave me a lift home, and we discussed the merits of togas as his wife laughed at us from the back seat. That afternoon was practically the first time any of us had free time over the weekend, so we found ourselves in town, stocking up for the next week. At the same time, Gracsyn was driving DeYoung back to the airport. That night found all of us watching Lord of the Rings at Leigh's house, our host curled up in a mound of cushions in the center of the room. One by one, people drifted off to bed. When the movie ended, we sat motionless for minutes as the credits rolled. Nobody wanted to stop the music or end the night. That was when we realized something fantastic. We were about to hit the peak of the Perseid meteor shower— and the sky was crystal clear. We quickly packed up and left for the villas, now energetic with the prospect of a longer night. The Perseids enticed some of the fellows who wouldn't normally go stargazing to come along, and we drove to the dam, where the sky is darker and the trees don't obscure. We stayed too long, but it was worth it.
The next morning started painfully. It was a normal Monday with math and choir, but that coupled with all of our sleepless weekend antics, plus the couch-filled classroom, (the music room's furniture had to be temporarily displaced for a while) made for a very drowsy experience. Leigh, however, kept us engaged with math games, the SAT, and another discussion about Italy. We had no trouble staying awake for choir. Afterwards, we all went our separate ways for work, and only met again that evening. Actually, it was a pretty eventful evening, with an introduction to Italian at Leigh's, a bunch of good discussions with the other Fellows, (Seth in particular) and with Tobin arriving to lead some of us in a few hours of nerdy gaming.
Classical Conversations started today, on Tuesday. While Caleb taught us in music, Leigh taught at the local community. It was a good day. The discussions were friendly and we had a great time. We started playing music on the speakers between sessions, and the dancing which it naturally brought left us all laughing and vitalized. Caleb surprised us by giving us the afternoon off from class, and so we ate lunch and returned home and to work, where I am now! We had a great time over the weekend, even if we didn't get all the sleep we wanted. There's another astronomer coming this week, and we're all very excited. I'll be getting back to my work now, but I hope you have and have had a great day so far.
Au revoir,
Barnabas
Monday morning was complicated by the start of the Classical Conversations school year, which is just on the cusp of resuming. The warehouse and office have been flooded with more work than before, and a few of the students who work at the warehouse went straight there that morning, leaving earlier than the rest of us who were going to class. While they worked, Leigh wrangled the rest of us through another math-filled morning.
On any given day, our class goes something like this. We start off the day with one of Euclid's geometric propositions, working it out and proving it for ourselves. After that, she usually shows us some mathematical tricks and tips, running us through some exercises to warm up our brains for what comes next: the SAT. We drop the discussion for twenty or twenty-five minutes of beautifully absolute test questions, taken in silence at our desks. After the clock runs down, we briefly check our answers, and Leigh explains how we reach those which we missed. As she satisfies our questions, some of the Fellows work on a second test, exercising their minds still further. By the time we finish, the morning is mostly gone, and we spend the final hour exploring new concepts of calculus, trigonometry, or physics.
Thus Monday morning came and went. We ate lunch and gathered around the piano for choir. Caleb introduced us to a new song: Sing Choirs of New Jerusalem, which we took to immediately. It's not an easy or simple piece, so when we left an hour later, none of us knew it perfectly. We were excited, however, singing and whistling, working on our parts with no intention of stopping. I heard people humming its harmony for days. We gathered after work that night to watch some astronomy videos and prepare for the guest lecturer coming that weekend.
Tuesday felt earlier than other days as we prepared for class. Coming into the Fellowship, I had expected math to be the more challenging of the two main subjects, but so far, music has been the most difficult. This was another full day of music, and between our discussions, debates, and lectures, we found ourselves drained by lunch-time. We found relief in the healing rays of the noonday sun, laying like lizards on the back porch. Soon enough, Caleb called us back in for our more practical music session. We tuned our instruments and listened to his assignment. He told us that we would be working in pairs to develop a unique melody based on a classic chord progression. The simple act of playing music together made up for the heated discussions of the morning, and we left refreshed and in high spirits. Immediately after work, I cracked my Bible to study the Psalm I was going to present the next morning. In the early evening, Tobin arrived to meet with some of us, and my music group still to meet to discuss our end-of-semester presentation. Shortly before midnight, as my housemates and I prepared for the next day, we agreed that the days here are simply too short.
Wednesday brought a new tradition: "Formal Friday— But On Wednesday Because We Have A Guest Coming This Weekend And We Don't Want To Make Him Feel Uncomfortable." (Simplified to FFBOWBWHAGCTWAWDWTMHFU.) Class went quickly by that day, and we soon had our SATs graded and put away. Leigh had something much more exciting to talk about: Italy. She had a list of opportunities for us to go home and consider. Lunch came early, and we spent it in the sun and on computers, deciding between Pisa and Venice, opera and cooking, caves and cliffs. Afterwards, we left for work while the music counsel met, weaving their secrets and spinning our fates.
Thursday was a fairly standard day with math in the morning and more music in the afternoon. As the weekend approached, people started getting more adventurous, forgoing studies in favor of excitement. Some of us just needed a change of pace, and before I knew what was happening, I found myself running errands at Walmart with a bunch of other guys. When we got home, we learned that our guest speaker, Dr. DeYoung, had arrived. Huzzah!
So Friday morning was fantastic. We woke up an hour later than normal with sunlight streaming uncharacteristically through the blinds. With no rush, we leisurely made our way to the house, arriving before morning devotions to meet Dr. DeYoung. Instead of having a student present a Psalm, Leigh invited pastor Skogen to lead us. He spoke clearly, laying out the biblical view on God's divine will and how it applies to our lives. We listened raptly, drinking it in. While the Socratic method of learning through questions and discussion is certainly effective, we enjoyed listening to someone teach plainly from the authority of scripture.
Afterwards, we went to the classroom, where Caleb introduced our guest to us formally. The doctor told us his students called him "Prof", and we were welcome to do the same. We expected him to start on astronomy right away, but Caleb led us in music discussion for the first hour. While we talked, DeYoung sat by, quietly observing. When he finally stood to present, he already had an idea of who we were. (By the end of his stay, he understood most of us; the man is quick and clever.) We had a great time with him over the next two hours as he gave us a crash course on astronomy. As he talked about measuring stars, plotting their movements, and way Halley's Comet slingshots around the sun, we saw the connections to the math concepts we'd been studying. An hour into the class, he sent us outside with rulers and notecards to measure the diameter of the sun. He had barely started explaining it before most of us were delightedly whispering about the elegance of the beautifully simple formula. We took our measurements and returned for more enthralling conversation.
We did something different for lunch. Splitting the main table into quarters, we made little groups and prepared for the "Pig Fest". This is a mode of dinner conversation in which a small group takes one topic and discusses it in detail, over dinner, for a quarter of an hour, at which point they stop, choose another topic, and continue. D. DeYoung sat with the first table, we all dug into our pizza, and Leigh read the first student-generated question. We discussed everything from airport security to the nuances of salvation over that hour. After it was up, Leigh dismissed everyone for twenty minutes, but many of us wanted to talk to Dr. DeYoung, and we surrounded him until Leigh called us in to class. We did math and astronomy for another few hours, and we ended in time to enjoy a few hours of sun before dinner. Most of us went swimming, though a few of us studied or played ping-pong. We met back at the house for supper together and with that done, we had another hour of class, built a fire by the lake and sat around it, telling stories and continuing to ask questions of DeYoung. Sadly, it was too cloudy to see anything, but DeYoung went out on the motorboat with Leigh and a few of the students anyway, finding a few gaps in the clouds to see the sky through. We left tired but satisfied. Unfortunately, the weekend mindset had ambushed us, and though we had to rise the next morning, some of us ignored our bodies' signals and decided to stay up late instead.
Saturday came too early. We rose at the same time as before and drove to the house. The pastor led our devotions again, and after a rousing rendition of Sing Choirs of New Jerusalem, we moved on to astronomy. This time he had all day, and he used it well. He finished his astronomy lecture by having us measure the position of the sun in its annual course at noon, and after lunch, he presented a comparison of theistic evolution and creationism before moving on to our questions. We took one more break for the afternoon, everyone heading his or her own way. It was a lovely day. We went out on the lake, wakeboarding and tubing, or we just laid in the sun, taking turns reading out loud. After supper, we met one last time, dragging class out as long as we could. When he finally closed, we stood and clapped. We were hoping he could come stargazing with us, but once again, the night was too cloudy.
On Sunday morning, most of us tried to get a little extra sleep. A diminished and heavy-lidded group trickled in to church that day. We heard Pastor Skogen preach again, and followed familiar threads through his sermon which he had laid down while he was leading us. When he talks, people listen, and we woke up. Afterwards, we said our final goodbyes to our new-found friend and left, though he was staying at Leigh's for a few more hours. Anna Harvey left to visit an old friend who had just returned from England, and many of the Fellows went with her. Tobin gave me a lift home, and we discussed the merits of togas as his wife laughed at us from the back seat. That afternoon was practically the first time any of us had free time over the weekend, so we found ourselves in town, stocking up for the next week. At the same time, Gracsyn was driving DeYoung back to the airport. That night found all of us watching Lord of the Rings at Leigh's house, our host curled up in a mound of cushions in the center of the room. One by one, people drifted off to bed. When the movie ended, we sat motionless for minutes as the credits rolled. Nobody wanted to stop the music or end the night. That was when we realized something fantastic. We were about to hit the peak of the Perseid meteor shower— and the sky was crystal clear. We quickly packed up and left for the villas, now energetic with the prospect of a longer night. The Perseids enticed some of the fellows who wouldn't normally go stargazing to come along, and we drove to the dam, where the sky is darker and the trees don't obscure. We stayed too long, but it was worth it.
The next morning started painfully. It was a normal Monday with math and choir, but that coupled with all of our sleepless weekend antics, plus the couch-filled classroom, (the music room's furniture had to be temporarily displaced for a while) made for a very drowsy experience. Leigh, however, kept us engaged with math games, the SAT, and another discussion about Italy. We had no trouble staying awake for choir. Afterwards, we all went our separate ways for work, and only met again that evening. Actually, it was a pretty eventful evening, with an introduction to Italian at Leigh's, a bunch of good discussions with the other Fellows, (Seth in particular) and with Tobin arriving to lead some of us in a few hours of nerdy gaming.
Classical Conversations started today, on Tuesday. While Caleb taught us in music, Leigh taught at the local community. It was a good day. The discussions were friendly and we had a great time. We started playing music on the speakers between sessions, and the dancing which it naturally brought left us all laughing and vitalized. Caleb surprised us by giving us the afternoon off from class, and so we ate lunch and returned home and to work, where I am now! We had a great time over the weekend, even if we didn't get all the sleep we wanted. There's another astronomer coming this week, and we're all very excited. I'll be getting back to my work now, but I hope you have and have had a great day so far.
Au revoir,
Barnabas
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