tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54772323622638283622024-03-05T17:22:41.805-08:00Around The World In 105 DaysUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-76474872615620632852011-08-22T09:55:00.001-07:002011-08-22T09:58:34.927-07:00Paris... a few weeks late.So instead of writing out the saga that will go down in history as the most unforgettable birthday in my life, please refer to my good friend Caleb B. Cunningham's <a href="http://calebbcunningham.blogspot.com/2011/08/stuck-in-paris.html">blog</a> wherein he gives the details of said saga. Enjoy.
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-63766381045711575942011-08-22T09:55:00.000-07:002011-08-22T09:57:57.343-07:00Paris... a few weeks late.So instead of writing out the saga that will go down in history as the most unforgettable birthday in my life, please refer to my good friend Caleb B. Cunningham's <a href="http://http//calebbcunningham.blogspot.com/2011/08/stuck-in-paris.html">blog</a> wherein he gives the details of said saga. Enjoy.
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<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5477232362263828362"></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-26995571816926527802011-08-05T04:01:00.000-07:002011-08-05T04:06:44.580-07:00Stumbleupon: The Silver Bullet to my Thesis<a href="http://www.ehdom.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/flowchart2.png">This</a> was the first thing that popped up on stumbleupon today while I was trying to avoid writing. I think it's a sign.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-67004254040059003622011-08-03T08:08:00.000-07:002011-08-03T16:40:30.107-07:00The High-and-Mighty Trinity and Other Cambridge AdventuresSo one of the highlights of the past few weeks in Cambridge has been the opportunity to go into Trinity College, the richest and (according to the one member of the college I know) best college in all of Cambridge. Supposedly they have as much money as the rest of the 31 Cambridge colleges combined. NBD. Also, at one point in time it was rumored that you could walk from Cambridge to London/Oxford (depending on whom you ask) solely on land owned by Trinity. In short, Trinity=big deal. Unfortunately, the college is not open to visitors this summer because they are doing some major renovations. We, the lucky students of PKP with all our hook-ups, were granted access by having a PhD student give us a literary tour of the place. We walked in past the grumpy porters on a strange boardwalk-type thing I have walked past a thousand times and entered the Great Court:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/df/TrinityCollegeCamGreatCourt.jpg/600px-TrinityCollegeCamGreatCourt.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 390px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/df/TrinityCollegeCamGreatCourt.jpg/600px-TrinityCollegeCamGreatCourt.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />This place was pretty awesome. It had the grandiose-ness of King's but was somehow more welcoming... in an austere "We're better than you because we're Trinity" kind of way. In the movie <i>Chariots of Fire</i>, this is where the race was supposed to have taken place. In reality, tho movie was filmed at Eton, but the actual event happened here. You are supposed to start running around the court at the first strike of the bell at midday and finish running around the court before it strikes 12. Quite the feat, I now understand. Anyway, we made our way around Trinity, hearing about all of the famous alumni. Notables included Sir Isaac Newton, Francis Bacon, Lord Byron and Prince Charles of Wales. We then climbed the stairs into the Wren library, designed by Christopher Wren of St. Paul's Cathedral fame. Inside they had the original handwritten notebook of A. A Milne where he first wrote "Winnie the Pooh," Some of Lord Byron's things, and some of Newton's notebooks, as well as a lock of his her (weird). The building itself was beautiful, the woodwork was intricate and awesome. Basically, the Library made the whole tour worth it (as I am generally not the biggest fan of guided tours). Here are some shots of the library:<div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/e5/WrenLibraryCambridge.jpg/600px-WrenLibraryCambridge.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 390px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/e5/WrenLibraryCambridge.jpg/600px-WrenLibraryCambridge.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3f/WrenLibraryInterior.jpg/600px-WrenLibraryInterior.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 800px; height: 390px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3f/WrenLibraryInterior.jpg/600px-WrenLibraryInterior.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Basically, I agree that Trinity is pretty cool. <div><br /></div><div>In other news, we've had a few weekend trips to London. More on that later. Mir van.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-20645418180526189682011-07-24T07:42:00.000-07:002011-07-24T10:08:41.934-07:00Ok, so let me give you a rundown of the first week. It was a bit crazy, so I hope I can remember it all. First off, the night before getting to Cambridge I stayed at the Stansted Hilton (awesome, by the way). I stuffed myself with the free breakfast and took a few extras to hold me over until dinner that night. I went to take the airport shuttle back to the main terminal but it was two pounds, and I only had one and a few euros. I went to get money out of an ATM in the hotel lobby but it didn't work. I went into panic mode worrying that my card had been shut down and I was stranded without money... bad news. Luckily I found a nice british lady that traded me a pound for a euro and some change (she said she was going to Italy later that month, but I suspect she just saw the distress on my face). Anyway, got the pound coin, got on the bus, and made it back to the terminal. The first order of business was to exchange some money, since I wasn't sure my card worked. I exchanged $100 US and got 58 pounds back after the service fee. "This is going to be an expensive summer," I thought to myself. I made my way to the train station at the airport and sat on a train headed straight for Cambridge.<div><br /></div><div>I got to Cambridge, got off the train, then realized I was actually there! I have been to Cambridge before and had a great time (part of the motivation for going this summer-thanks Jen and Derek), but this time I was the local. Awesome. I got in a ridiculously long line to wait for a taxi, and after 30 minutes and an adventurous taxi ride, I was standing at the gates of the famous King's College. A couple of friendly Cambridge students in matching "PKP" shirts asked me if I was with PKP (Pembroke-King's Programme, named after the 2 colleges that host us for the summer). I said yes and they sent me on my way to pick up my welcome packet with keys and access cards and all kinds of maps and forms. I was then led to the back of the college to a quaint little court that would be my home for the next 2 months: Bodley's</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/mVCF-hyPVVoCJTrPTAWkxwz_bhl6ZgKOzp7jFZAhwvQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCZ0k7JgnV6n6V338QDVkVI9z-7JIEjJGOLvF-kKvyvh_stheu7c5r-chKJJi_i73f1jc_e8IKXXclNOKLdGoZ45LB2RT8u360QKNR3d_mveL3Ivf0MJ5gHC54Z4LK1HlahNdSWYQq82t5/s400/849323_e6d72dc9.jpg" height="302" width="400" /></a><div><br /></div><div>Yup, that's my dorm for the summer. NBD. My room is sweet too, I have a "sitting room" with a couch, desk, large table, coffee table, and a few chairs as well as a bedroom with a sink, chest of drawers, wardrobe, side table, and fireplace. From my desk I look out over the courtyard and from my bedroom I look out over the Cam (the river you see on the picture). It's pretty sweet. I've already met a few students and they all seem pretty cool. I've met a girl from Macedonia who speaks Serbo-croatian, and a few Russians/Russian speakers. It's fun to chat with them and see the look on their faces when they realize I can understand what they're saying and carry on a conversation. Muahaha. </div><div><br /></div><div>Dinner was bomb. Sumptuous I would even say. The desserts were amazing. Chicken, lamb, and veal were on the menu, as well as a ton of different salads and steamed veggies. Bread products exploded out of this huge basket, and there was enough salad dressing to feed a small african country. It was awesome. Looking around at the dining hall just added to the extravagance of the whole experience. Check it:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/eFNV5xrL2IjS-BO2iELtnAz_bhl6ZgKOzp7jFZAhwvQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6TfWuiqRW7WSamt_QgXk23xylA-JfJrp22kl-5CG2wXSZjV72LCmXtf7sACnLeU34XTRc0iTk_DomiCcE-NdAjGmwDaYuBwrqLiRTmnnh2zFibxLv1QhH0oGQodqjN1AZFVIOkHSBleS/s400/450px-Kings_dining_hall.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Yup. I eat there. Every day. Whatev, guys, it's totally not a big deal. </div><div><br /></div><div>The first few days of classes were pretty intense. I am taking "Drugs and the Mind: Why do People Get Addicted," a pretty sweet neuroscience class looking at the neurochemistry of addiction. I have a minimal neuro background, so the first few lectures were followed by some extensive personal knowledge enriching (i.e. hours googling various brain areas and neurotransmitters until I had a general idea of what was going on). Then, after 3 days, they took us to Scotland. </div><div><br /></div><div>Scotland is awesome. Beautiful. Green. Lots of plaid. Basically, just the bomb.com. The night before we left we had a late FHE involving huge quantities of extremely unhealthy food. I went home (after standing out in the cold for 40 minutes conversing with some friends) and got into bed, shivering. Turns out, I had a fever. I woke up every hour or so and was shaking uncontrollably, but sweating. It doesn't help that I have a huge comforter on my bed but no top sheet. Brits. I don't get them some times. Anyway, I woke up the next day, packed, had some breakfast, and headed to the bus. I had an I-haven't-slept-enough-and-am-sore-and-achy-from-shivering-all-night headache--something not conducive to a comfortable 10-hour bus ride (if there is such a thing). After bobbing in and out of something resembling sleep for a few hours, we got to Richmond, a quaint little English village with a cool castle and an even cooler bakery. Most amazing eclair I've ever had. After a few hours there, we continued on our way. When we finally made it to Edinburgh (pronounced Ed-in-bruh, I came to find) I was beyond exhausted. We got our room assignments and put our luggage away. Afterwards we all headed down to dinner at an all-you-can-eat dining hall that far surpasses the Cannon Center in quality (I may get lynched for that, but it's true). I, however, was experiencing another wave of the fever that had kept me up all night. It had mercifully subsided for the majority of the trip, but was reared it's ugly head as soon as I stepped onto the pavement at Polluck Halls. </div><div><br /></div><div>The next part needs to be prefaced. There are two mature students on the program from BYU. They are both mothers. This was apparent when I came and sat at their table to tuck in to my dinner. They said I was terribly flushed and looked awful. I told them I would track down the program director and see if I could procure some medicine and sleep it off. Unfortunately, like so many other places in europe, everything in Edinburgh closes around 6, especially useful things like pharmacies. Greg (the director) took one look at me and sent me off to bed. I drank about 1/2 gallon of water over the course of the evening (and subsequently got up to use the facilities 5 times throughout the night) but slept relatively well. The next morning I woke up and felt 100x better. I had a bit of a tension headache from the fever soreness, but nothing terrible. I guess I should listen to my mother. Any time I was sick growing up the solution was "drink more water and take some tylenol." Thanks, mom.</div><div><br /></div><div>Friday we started out the day going out to Rosslyn Chapel. You may be familiar with it if youve read Dan Brown's <i>Da Vinci Code</i>. Supposedly it is where the Knights Templar buried their treasure before they disappeared, including the Holy Grail. I had Monty Python quotes flitting through my head the whole time. Luckily, the chapel itself was intricate and beautiful enough to distract me from any other thoughts. It was built by Masons in the mid 15th century AD and has some very interesting details. One of them is the prevailing theme of nature, often represented by "green men," human faces with vines growing out of their mouths:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/N6HQbk-cPTuBl_PVqIZo4Qz_bhl6ZgKOzp7jFZAhwvQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFlpNdG4GkFHNsjr82WUcwPqG-VR-zEl26Re1oniC2Y6lM1vfi8AsJKrDE479hnqmOFZSglyUPNHRCMSToqO6QeiW8X_qQuZS_706rATYwE3WnUwx7GWRZtzE8IhoTE8bOtWTSopn9GLOS/s400/Rosslyn_chapel_green_men.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>The wiki article has a ton more on the history, check it out if you're interested:</div><div><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosslyn_Chapel"></a></div><div><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosslyn_Chapel">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosslyn_Chapel</a></div><div><br /></div><div>The bus then took us into the city center, where we dodged rain storms all day while wandering around soaking in the sights. The castle was cool, minus costing 15 pounds to get in. We took pictures out front and moved on. We saw most the requisite sights while there: Arthur's seat, the royal mile, tons of churches, and ate dinner at the Elephant House (where J.K. Rowling wrote out the Harry Potter story on napkins while on welfare blah blah).</div><div><br /><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/80fZJAKDFR5rdNtZfGBSDwz_bhl6ZgKOzp7jFZAhwvQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxOBIkll7mlhaV1vsDSRS8930-0i6mMC6r02hsgBtOUL1xAaUpXquR1q9uxt0Si7-nOXMItJD_1C2OgcNjXskafqREdke_UF9wVgF8L3HKmIAnubQHZLa7YzGYthjU6cSRa2xEhqJ-0BGa/s640/P1000312.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I was surprized at how good it was, expecting it to be crowded and overly touristy. I was plesantly surprized at how quiet and classy it was. I had a caramelized onion and goat cheese pizza. It was amazing. I got to sit at the table where she sat, looking out over Edinburgh castle and realizing that it was not a far stretch of the imagination to see magic folk learning spells and charms in the towers of the castle. It was most definitely a major inspiration for Hogwarts. Anyway, we went back to Polluck Halls to get ready for the ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee), a traditional Scottish dance party. It was awesome. You know the period movies where they have feasts with fast music and people spinning each other around incessantly? That's what a Ceilidh is like. Dancing, swinging, sweating, laughing, and (for most) drinking lots and lots of alcohol. It was awesome. The most fun I've had in a long time. Good thing I have Scottish ancestors so I can justify having a Ceilidh band at my wedding (if that ever happens, that is). After hours of swinging, dancing, and sweating, we all headed off to bed in anticipation of the big hike the next day. </div><div><br /></div><div>They took us up to the Trossachs, called by some "the Highlands in miniature." The hike was sunny and dry for us, a contrast from the day before where the PKPers told us it rained most of the time and they waded through water all the way up. After about 2 hours of hiking, we made it to the top of a rocky plateau, affording us breathtaking views of the lochs all around us and the unbelievably green mountains:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/yh1dd-UXTFj4uIIeaGtP2Az_bhl6ZgKOzp7jFZAhwvQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDi8kHq67EEZGTv5Rcot0nhja9YZYN3YcoAxtzewnKVoir-nb1_-ycCIR71G_Z87YuFXQlxnT_aNpgl-1rK8Hq-fSYNew2riAw-j7qDXPZGZYeTEg_pPd9cK4Q2RD2rgtLvPfJJtpO1TX/s640/P1000314.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Yup. That green. Fun side story: in the first 20 minutes of the hike, after stretching a little too far to get over a rock in the path, my pants split down the crotch. We're not talking "just a little hole that unless you sit down you can't see it" kind of split. We're talking "zipper to butt-cheek pocket and a few little tears on the side so you can see my underwear every step I take" kind of split. It was bad. I eventually wrapped my jacket around my waist to cover my butt, but then the front kept ripping. I finally wrapped the zippered part around the front and zipped it, giving myself a sort of gore-tek skirt. It was pretty attractive. Sorry, no photographic evidence for that one (intentionally). We went back into the city, I made some new friends, and we decided to go to dinner together. I had an awesome burger at this place we went to in the center of town. It was bliss. Later, we wandered the city, went into a cool cemetery, eavesdropped on a ghost tour or two (they're everywhere, apparently Edinburgh is haunted or something), and then the crew wanted to meet up with some others at a pub. We never found the rest of the group, but the four of us sat down at a nice little place and had drinks. My mormon-ness had come up earlier in the night, so it wasn't a surprise to anyone when I ordered a Sprite. It did spark good conversation though, and I got the opportunity to explain my beliefs and hear the views of my fellow pub-goers. It was a good time. </div><div><br /></div><div>A moment of musing. Living in Provo and teaching at the MTC, I don't have much opportunity to do missionary work of my own, despite training the next generation of elders and sisters. It has been a long time since I've had to explain what I believe so often, but it has been good for me. It has forced me to reexamine what I really do believe, and has given me the motivation to seek to strengthen my own testimony of the things I'm telling people who think I'm a little crazy on a daily basis. It's been fun. Ok, musing over.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, we got back a little after midnight and went to bed. The next day we took another 10 hours to get back down to Cambridge. We stopped at Fountains Abbey along the way, a sweet place with a lot of history. Basically, the trip was bomb. More on Cambridge itself when I've actually spent some time here, ha ha. Cheers!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-70818137964261600242011-07-22T00:03:00.001-07:002011-07-22T06:32:10.937-07:00Croatia... againSo, I felt a little bit spoiled going back to Croatia two years in a row, but it was awesome. It was a little bit different this time, we spent more time doing touristy stuff and we had a Croatia first-timer with us, Priest's friend Andrea. It was a blast. I'm pretty sure I could come back to Croatia every summer for the rest of my life and still not get bored. Awesome. Here's the play-by-play, if you care:<div><br /></div><div>First off let's start with me getting to Croatia. I had 2 layovers and a day in London before I finally made it. Along the way I got to have breakfast with the wonderful Natalie Thorsen, which was grand. I was about 2 hours late for our appointment, and I had no means of contacting her, so I was a little worried. She was a lot worried. I finally made it to Liverpool Street Station and we ran around the city for a bit before sitting down for a nice (overpriced) breakfast. I didn't have too much time, but we got to see the tower of London from afar and have a good chat.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/gUeE_wJiW1W0xy9SWJvFbQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOzRa0Vkygtr10r6fTvt0npUtj1cHbj4Vn4W3LVV45lr1dKThO9yXM15geFIKfil8ZnGTVbNXEz6ko7je0Rlyrnuk__cOC7gYvRXM7Xs4vaGTlr2SLBeRHks9_eKvtSOKehVFJcqqGu5V/s640/P1000333.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/106806341971496690893/July222011?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">July 22, 2011</a></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div> Then I got on a train out to Stansted airport, had a mad-dash taxi ride to drop my bags off at the Hitlon with only 40 minutes before my flight took off, and got on the plane to Slovenia. </div><div><br /></div><div>Slovenia was beautiful. I never served there, so I feel very much like a tourist while I'm there. I have vague memories of certain parts of the city, and especially the mission home (RIP, since it's now in Zagreb). Anyway, we ran around and met people Priest new while he was there, had some good ice cream, and I was introduced to the mlekomat. Let me just tell you about this thing real fast. Apparently the dairy farmers in Slovenia were mad that they weren't getting enough for their milk from the buyer dudes. They decided to cut out the middle man to increase revenue, so they put up these mlekomats--milk dispensing machines--all over the city. The cool thing is, the milk is fresh every day, and since each machine is a different dairy, they all taste different. It was the best milk I think I've ever tasted. Amazing. Here's a pic of the amazingness:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/YWLobgcK1dHrsdIgTDZ6Rw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEfotQuqmz4Jxmjg98JPWLSLCF9WyGPNKQ-jxQN9QDdS0o41YTQ2iaF8iM8dmOZ736M2v2Rcbb8D8e-CQEDjnWrA0sFjArVHVhClMslHHcEBkbJ-8swVg_ePJNqYbwQ97BPl50QgZH3eY/s640/P1000023.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/106806341971496690893/July222011?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">July 22, 2011</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>Anyway, we stopped in and chatted with President Hill and his wife for a few hours and talked about how the mission is progressing. It's amazing how different the work is from when I was there! With Pres. Roe (the new mission pres that started in July) there will be a new era of the mission, hopefully marked with huge success! We eventually got on a train and headed down to Zagreb.</div><div><br /></div><div>As soon as we got there, we went to Tony's Kebap, only the best food in town:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/e6Ql84WojLZNG5KsKG5HKQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLYBRm-BOGR0lwbRlzu2t0Cd5TOuA833fjPOiOIdWycQ8w9URMz0cFgq43g_Ac0bAOyWHmGy1qmr9P-r0bAdKhDWQuKo1OtR-3uIhs80ZoPaAoddSVzpFQeBzQvVPJM_igaMzVjKkg2kmr/s640/P1000026.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/106806341971496690893/July222011?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">July 22, 2011</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div> and I called Kristijan and Kiki to meet up with them. As it so happened, Kristijan was showing the BYU folk dance team around the city and they had in impromptu performance out on Cvjetni Trg. It was pretty strange, I even saw a friend from high school who was in the band... ha ha. Anyway, there were a bunch of missionaries there to work the crowd, so I got to see a lot of my children in action. Brought a tear to my eye to see them speaking Croatian and contacting like pros... *sniff*. Kiki found us, and we went to Nocturno for dinner #2 and wandered around the city, catching up and just hanging out. Kiki is one of my few true friends I made on my mission who was a native Croat. He's great. I'd go back just to see him. Srsly. Anyway, it got late and wee took the train to Karlovac (hereafter K-town) where Marinka was waiting for us at the train station. </div><div><br /></div><div>K-town was relaxing. We chatted with Markina, went to Baka's house, got to see our old apartment (Priest and I both spent a substantial time in K-town), and saw some members out at the new church farm. It was altogether enjoyable. After a day in K-town, we took a bus down to Zadar for church and all-around Dalmatian revelry. I got to see Anka and Šime<br /></div><div><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/LdtFYB0DxpNzG2dFcIlHCQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgDum2iMs4AujZUVNfW9yzfhwILEzLICgzupTpoVenKGzVY-nyD5xF-xkQKfDsQXySmPBJjTJNNxY8AC1i5NLAtNl0_JBaZGCvaF9ukbzkwPo5WqfMfJc0aQbW8-6xuwepSX0yiHn-3nTY/s640/P1000052.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/106806341971496690893/July222011?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">July 22, 2011</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>After wandering around the old town and buying a sweet painting of Poluotok (the peninsula), we hopped on a bus to a random Dalmatian coastal village... Primošten.</div><div><br /></div><div>I remembered seeing this town on billboards along the highway while I was on my mission. They were still there this time, so I figured it might be worth trying. After finally getting there, getting Gypped by the tourist office on the price of our room for the night (the owner said it was 40 Euros, the office charged us 50), we saw why the billboards suggested "Svi u Primošten!" (Everyone to Primošten!). It was awesome. Apparently it was an island with a small gap between it and the mainland spanned by a bridge back in the day. Eventually the fishermen in the town decided to fill it in, and now there's about a 20 meter wide connection to a sweet peninsula with a church on top of the hill, quiet alleyways, and a riva definitely worth strolling on. Also, we had the best crepes ever created in the old town there. We may have eaten 3. Anyway, we hung around for a jazz festival thing on the town square, ate our second crepe from the amazing crepe-mobile, and just had a good time relaxing. The next day we woke up and went to the beach. We lounged and swam for a few hours, soaking in the European beachiness and much needed vitamin D boost. We discovered the next day we got a little too much vitamin D. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kz7t9osZHmSWitbveZ_aRA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTcBpqaRWSb1m3EHSPunWBctpbh3KJV_rTl0GEyseI6uhEbQaPO3q64ZV1b9urwJ7l59YKwBFJ9DcDZb7XUKWaDSOHLkiOjZqviaAvarhRcD57CzUUzkmyzRcF6rucFcRy_2gCA4yGP1TR/s640/P1000075.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/106806341971496690893/July222011?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">July 22, 2011</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>Note to self: sunburns when you are carrying all your worldly posessions on your back are much less convenient than normal.</div><div><br /></div><div>We finally made our way to Split that afternoon. We found our way to the hostel and chatted up the very friendly landlady (about 23 years old with a raspy smoker voice of an 85 year-old mob boss) who spoke very quickly with a heavy Dalmatian accent. It was a little difficult to understand her at times, but after a few hours surrounded by dalmatinski after so long, my ears started to adjust. We wandered, checked out the city beach, bought some crepes (none of which came even close to those from the magical crepe-mobile of awesomeness) and waited around for Andrea. She finally made it, we got her stuff back to the room, and went back out to check out the nightlife of Split. Not that we went to a club or anything, but just took in the Dalmatian "Đir" culture (sidenote: in Dalmatia they follow the typical Mediterranean schedule of long lunch, siesta, then stay up late. Part of the "stay up late" thing is going down to the center of town and walking along the riva--a promenade right along the water. They call this walk a "đir,"roughly translating to a "stroll." Anyway...). The next day we met Kristina, a member from Split, and she took us around and gave us an impromptu tour of the city. We went into some churches, climbed the bell tower in old town that afforded us some spectacular views, and all around had a good time. We then lunched and did some souvenir shopping. Basically just sight seeing, picture taking, and tourist-being. Awesome. We finally took off for Dubrovnik lat in the afternoon...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/NcRUCdZrWnd1i2keA_l17g?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE1xet2xmSh1NJ-uLjKcMAHINN_hO5Erk2pqdTJOsLeVsO8y_ZupK9P0trEMpeFAiJ_KVBB8xjlRqdNNqqm3FP8QsMWxlxGtbbtGZI3HdBSk-S25z3nysUJCrdBF_3cOsH7wjZBFuk8m9G/s640/P1000144.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/106806341971496690893/July222011?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">July 22, 2011</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>The bus took forever. Like over 4 hours I think. Boo. We did go through Bosnia and took a 20 minute rest stop in Neum, the only Bosnian city on the coast. It was pretty awesome. Mostly just because it was Bosnia. Then we continued on. When we finally made it to Dubrovnik and got to our room (which was at the top of a pretty epic set of stairs, by the way), we were pooped. But, being in Dubrovnik as we were, we sucked it up and went out on the town. We found ourselves a good restaurant and had dinner and then made our "đir." Dubrovnik is epic. I don't know how else to describe it. It was a powerful city-state in the Venetian empire if I'm not mistaken and was quite wealthy on its own regard. It is home to the second oldest pharmacy in Europe, is surrounded on all sides by an amazing set of walls, juts out into the clear blue Adriatic like a monument to Croatian willpower. It was bombed during the Croatian war of independence but was rebuilt and is now mostly back to its former glory. Anyway, we spent a day seeing the sights, walking the walls, eating seafood swimming in olive oil, and beaching. It was grand. That night we wandered into a folk dance concert that was quite entertaining, which happened to be free (though I suspect it wasn't supposed to be, we just accidentally snuck in). After a long day we found a car rental place and booked a car to go to Mostar, Bosnia the next day. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/haUI8Pw-VRQ7UJvUVIiIxg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvHY8yy5J9vcZDubsOXDEHQQz1tj9lWOky-2c0l9RTonlu_S3YJxrsDNxU8tMkw6zCOADuZx2MAj_lQjnjFT_OEn2nK_LWJyHMm2HN0HwupY8tINoqHZCmvQq6gDlaFbL5mb6y4Ozyc2Y7/s640/P1000236.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/106806341971496690893/July222011?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">July 22, 2011</a></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div>Mostar was awesome. Perhaps the most awesome part of it all was getting there. Being the smart people we are, Eli, Andrea and I decided to take a smaller road through Bosnia instead of taking the highway which crossed the Bosnia-Croatia border 3 times. Bad idea. You know how they will randomly make jokes in (most recently Social Network) about how they don't have roads in Bosnia? Well, they're only slightly exaggerating when they say that. The road was supposed to be two-lane, two-way. It was the equivalent of a small one-way street in the rest of Europe (yep, not American nice wide-sized roads, Europe's already-way-too-skinny-to-fit-a-real-car-so-they-all-drive-hotwheels-sized roads). We passed (or rather pulled over for) 2 semi trucks and several vans along the way, some which came at us from around blind corners on extremely windy mountain roads. Scary. This picture was taken right before we passed a cow and a herd of goats wandering on the road (not particularly exciting for us Lehi folk, but for most quite a funny experience):</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/yjafbEhJRZOcYrzeHSU8kw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGGx5-eDbRoqaSu_VhRw3P4k-nwuP696G656BajLOM5PHLda4UztYft8WmUVHJe9EARFvag7o7jZNVBAVfYMnFqMBk0g4W7DXBMBX_xaklQ5YunqPuUr5hKEy7Dk4E7qx4ajYleGXpPIv/s640/P1000271.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/106806341971496690893/July222011?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">July 22, 2011</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>Anyway, Mostar was awesome. It's this East-meets-west-meets-middle-east kind of place where in the same skyline you can see 3 minarets, a Catholic bell tower and the dome of an Orthodox church. It was cool. The bridge was the main attraction, a symbol of freedom and perseverance since it was destroyed in the war and then rebuilt by the citizens of Mostar. The old town was awesome and we had the best ćevapi I've ever had. Eli agrees:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/f-FDp_t5zmUXM-_JKzbwRQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVW3VM6Wm1thN77-TL40bmZARMZIWrsetKTGYVM_gLmMHtZm3jPqVyaiYu_Kk5NyByC1nMJxwSxncs_LjmwAl8dWcaH-PrXXKzSuQ2nLpYYMnDsT0cc84BnVyj-R670g8OrbeqGHax2qmf/s640/P1000223.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br /><br />On the way back we hit up an old Turkish fortress. NBD.<br /><br /></span></span><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/MD4YnmLGJDcsYkDjKAgqWw?feat=embedwebsite" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBoAMeMhBi1-XucSS-0NcPyEsI0Diwp06TAnJ-qpthgnOdUcXMdEGOABqJDs4faHxGlISW-Df0Ug1sX3t7Nmku3XsgiTY_-gSl8wtW9RB0cbs-46oUDDYylh9KCgWtcKeoeJ3Luq5zsxA3/s640/P1000258.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/106806341971496690893/July22201102?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">July 22, 2011</a></td></tr></tbody></table>The next day we went out to a national park--the island of Mljet--and kayaked, walked, munched, and sunned. It was grand.<br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/rrysyvyLcdJV8Du5ZOReUQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXWulzvVY-uTrGHWqQg-zxyCm0e_VZ5uqk6h9zwjfBhORIYlnFRO2Bx16dWFCj1wgeJph8UiWFGsJWfQVgMsGypP2taB7oAhfbambHDsM1tnLA0h55Rn9yTJQAmettp7RYbQY9JLIyW-hV/s640/P1000277.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/106806341971496690893/July22201102?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">July 22, 2011</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Finally, the day came for us to leave. We took an aweful overnight (10 hours. 9 PM to 7 AM) bus ride all the way back up to Zagreb and then a train up to Ljubljana. There, we met the Woodburys for lunch. Yay. Then we all eventually peeled off and made it back to the airport. I flew back to Stansted, headed to the airport Hilton, took the longest shower of my life, put on clean clothes for the first time in 4 days, and slept. Next stop: Cambridge!<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></span></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-90202904368628460952010-06-27T09:58:00.002-07:002010-06-27T09:59:04.153-07:00Samara Mission Tour<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">This weekend was awesome. I am sleep-deprived, malnourished, and have no clean laundry, but am so content. Here’s the play-by-play:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">We left Friday night at 5:08 PM. We were running late (as usual) because we were at the world sand volleyball championships at </span><span lang="RU" style="font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:RU">Парк Победы</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">. It was pretty cool, we sat right in front of Misty Mays when we watched the American Men’s pair roll up the Germans. It was pretty cool, even if it was freezing and raining. I pulled the tarp out of my backpack and sat on it so I didn’t have to deal with a wet butt. Anyway, we went to lunch and a produkty after that to get stuff for dinner on the train. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">We were running to get on the train, it was basically pulling out of the station when we got on the car (or course ours was the very last car on the train). We had dinner, told a lot of stories (well, I mostly listened to stories, the mission nostalgia type), and had a good time. We got ready for bed, made our beds, etc, and then started transformers. We got about half way through when we decided it was time for bed. The next morning we woke up, got into normal clothes after taking a “towel shower” (with water from the train’s holding tank… eeeew) and got off the train in Samara. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">The city I had heard so much about was different than what I expected. I have heard since I got to Moscow that Moscow is not really Russia. I didn’t really think too much of it until I got to Samara. The city has a single metro line, but plenty of tramvajs and busses. We met a member at the train station, Jenny went off to Togliatti, and we went over to the member’s house. The whole family are members and good friends of Chris’ so they had a good catch up. We went down to Stalin’s bunker, which was pretty sweet. We took pictures at his desk and Cam even got one on his toilet. Awesome. Afterwards we went down to the Volga, Chris put his feet in the water after all these years, and we </span><span lang="RU" style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:RU">гулять</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">-ed for a while, then went back to the Blinkov’s. They had lunch for us, which was great. We took naps/chatted/checked email until about 8, when we went down to MacDac to meet Jenny and Kostya, our ride. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Let me just talk about our ride for a second. Lada was one of the main car manufacturers during the Soviet era and I think may have been the only car available for a long time. There are still a lot of them. Not quite as crappy as Yugos, but up there. Anyway, we had a 2-door. It was AWEFUL. Chris, Cam and I were in the back seat. Chris and I went to Balikovo (4.5 hours away) Cam to Marks (5.5 hours away) and Jenny to Saratov (7 hours away). It was a long night. It was pretty fun, we had some good conversation, even if Kostya did get lost… twice. We finally made it to Balikovo around 2 AM. It was pretty crappy. We got to the hotel, which lost our reservations, and we got one of the only rooms available (which didn’t have the AC we ordered). The hotel was pretty nice, nevertheless. After a long night, we finally fell asleep in Balikovo.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">The next day we went to church. Everyone was happy to see Chris, and was really nice to me. I was really impressed with the spirit in the branch there. The building itself was right on the Volga, out in the middle of nowhere, basically. It was pretty nice, though. It was hotter than Hades, but it was nice to see the church is the same no matter where you go. After lots of pictures and reminiscing, We went back to the hotel, ordered a taxi to Saratov through Marks, and set off. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">We went through Marks to pick up Cam. Marks consists of about 3 major streets (pretty well paved ones, since they have only in the last 2 years been paved) and a lot of old people. Cam had a blast at church from the sounds of it. That’s all there is to say about Marks. Oh, and the amazing bread Cam bought for us. Delicious. Another side note: our driver took a shower out of a 5 liter bottle while we were waiting for Cam. It was pretty funny. We got to Saratov a little late for the Bennet’s farewell fireside. Apparently in Russia, people give the gifts of their talents (especially when they don’t have money for actual gifts). There were a few really good ones (a hilarious guy and a funny guitar song, a saucy 16 year old playing the accordion) and some really, REALLY bad ones (an old lady singing 25 verses of some old folk song and a really nervous lady singing a Russian tone-deaf version of “Be Still, My Soul”). After the fireside, there were lots and lots of refreshments, lots of conversations, lots of “Where did you serve?” and the like. I finally got to meet the famous Bennets. President Bennet is not the angry yelling super intense guy everyone has made him out to be, but I understand that I’m not a missionary and that 3 years can change a mission president a lot. After the fireside, we went with Mike, an English teacher and one of Chris’ good friends from </span><span lang="RU" style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:RU">Мясокоминат</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> (meat factory… or </span><span lang="RU" style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:RU">Приволшкий)</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">, a suburb of Saratov, to his house for dinner and to spend the night. The bad thing was, his food was awful, his apartment was outrageously hot and stuffy, and there were 1000 mosquitoes. Oh yeah, not to mention the fact that there were 3 cats, and Cam is allergic to them. The missionaries came over for a little while, then they went home and Mike and his wife went over to his parents’ house to spend the night, so we could have the apartment to ourselves. We also happened to be there during the hot water outage, so the only thing we got were FREEZING cold showers. We went to bed around 11 PM. We all rolled around until 2 AM, Cam wheezing, me sweating, and Chris swatting mosquitoes when Chris decided we should get out of the house and get some air (mostly for Cam’s sake). We got dressed (gym shorts and flip flops… very Russian) and wandered the streets of the small town. We saw some characters. Lots of drunks, lots of </span><span lang="RU" style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:RU">ребята</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">, and a diskoteka in what appeared to me to be the town hall, but what do I know. We miraculously found a 24-hour produkti and grabbed a huge bottle of water (Mike had none, just sugary cheap sok), some siroki, and a 2 liter of some generic crappy orange soda. We found a bus stop and sat down at the benches. We had become </span><span lang="RU" style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:RU">ребята</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">. We sat there drinking and eating our siroki until 4:15 or so, when we went back to Mikes to get ready for the day. The Bennets were driving us back up to Samara and they were leaving at 5 AM. We took freezing cold showers, changed into clean clothes, and got the H out of that apartment. Pardon my French, but I have never had a night where I literally could not sleep from being so uncomfortable. The night in the Florida KOA with Uncle Vince is a close second… but this place took the cake.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">The drive was quick (Roman, the mission driver, is amazing) and enjoyable. While waiting for the Bennets at the side of the road, we met a drunk old man who punched me (playfully, of course, with a chuckle). Cam, Jenny and I were in the back, Chris up with Sister Bennet in the 2<sup>nd</sup> row, Pres up front, and Roman behind the wheel. We got back to Samara by 10 AM (2 hours faster than Kostya did it, PS) and went to the mission home. We were able to take showers in the general authority apartment (aka Elder Storer’s apartment) and a short nap. The Bennets made us PB&J’s and chips and salsa. They’ve stopped buying food, since they’re going home in less than a month. It was delicious, to say the least. Anyway I digress. After that, we had a last lap around Samara and took a bus to Ulyanovsk. We spent 5 hours in the bus, 2 hours in Ulyanovsk, and another 3 hours in a taxi up to Kazanj. We got to the Riviera Kazan, a super swanky hotel (we decided to treat ourselves at the end of the trip since this was the only “vacation” time we had) and got one of the best nights sleep ever. We woke up, had a delicious breakfast, got massages in the spa, and then went into the city to do the tourist thing. We went back to the hotel, and Chris, Cam and I went to the water park connected to the hotel. That was probably 50% of our motivation for going there, by the way. It was so much fun. It was mostly indoor, with a few outdoor areas. It was a blast, maybe ¼ the size of sunsplash, but we made it fun. After that, we took a taxi to the airport and flew back into Moscow. The flight landed at 11:15 PM, we caught the midnight train into the city, got there at 12:45, got on the metro as it was closing, and went home. I finally got home around 1:40AM. I crashed and was late the next day to school. All in all it was a great trip. I had so much fun and learned a lot. I got to see the “real” Russia. Samara mission tour: check.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-86180969650700032382010-06-27T09:58:00.001-07:002010-06-27T09:58:40.835-07:00Elder Perry Awesomeness<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Sunday was pretty awesome. This past week a few times we had choir practice for district conference. It was extra special, because elder Perry came. He gave a good talk about what a young persons 4 cornerstones should be: <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">1. Jesus Christ<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">2. Testimony of JS and restoration<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">3. BOM<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">4. Testimony of living prophets and following their counsel. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">It was great, and he also gave a challenge to draw up a plan for reading the book of Mormon over the summer. So there is a goal for me for this summer. Reading the book of Mormon before school starts. That means I have to read at least 3 chapters a day in order to get there. Good luck to me. I think that’s do-able, because I can read 3 chapters in the hour it takes me to get from home to school on the metro. Sweet. I also need to make some language goals, a language study plan or something. I am not using it constantly like a missionary would be, and I am less entitled to the gift of tongues this time around. Joj. Russian is hard. That is all. I need to be memorizing X words a day, reading out loud, and SYLing as much as possible. Chris came home with me after conference (it was at a hotel at </span><span lang="RU" style="font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:RU">ВДНХ</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> so it was just 3 stops from me.) </span><span lang="RU" style="font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:RU">Нина</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> had a guest over, and we had a good gospel discussion with him. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">The group has also already formed its own little cliques. Chris, Cam, and myself generally are found together when not at work or school. There some good eggs, those two. We have a lot of fun. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Tonight Elder Perry had a great fireside. The main thing I got out of it was learning to make the best out of any situation in which you find yourself. I think that is very applicable right now, being in the position I am. He talked about Joseph (the Egypt one) and how he made the best out of bad situations. He was sold into slavery, but he made himself the most presentable slave he could. He was sold into the Captain guy’s house and decided to be the best servant he could. He got thrown in jail and decided to be the best prisoner he could, and was eventually made the pharaoh’s servant, became the best servant in the pharaoh’s house and eventually became his right-hand man. He gave us one main challenge: to live with more enthusiasm and spirit. He talked about how those things are a conscious choice. I remember talking to my mission president when I was a young missionary and telling him how in high school I decided to get up in the morning and decide to have a good day. I forget to do that at times, and the last little while I have forgotten more than usual. That talk was just what I needed as a reminder. Thanks, Tom.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">I’m still trying to figure out how to load pictures on here, since every time I try it tells me I have an error or something. Boo. For now, check out the Russia album on facebook. That’s all for now. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-61105106827916375412010-06-27T09:57:00.000-07:002010-06-27T09:58:12.084-07:00The Rest of the Week<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">This week was pretty good, actually. After setting stuff up with the European and American Medical Centers, I called the American center, and got put on hold, then told I would be called back later, and then never got called back. I’ll go in on Monday and drop off my resume. On Friday morning, I went into the EMC and was met by an assistant, instructed to change into scrubs, given plastic slippers, a cap and a mask. We had 3 surgeries. 2 arthroscopic ones in the morning, doing some basic repair stuff on meniscus and acl stuff. The afternoon surgery was sah-weet, though. The champion tae-kwan-do of all of Russia had torn his ACL and PCL, and they did a transplant reconstruction. They took tendons from some small lesser used unimportant muscles in this guys legs, scraped off all of the muscle tissue, took the “new ligaments” and got them the right thickness, length, etc. They then screwed and plugged them into where the old ligaments were. Ta-dah! New knee. Medicine is so cool! Esp. surgery. The guys there were pretty cool, too. They showed me around, and completely overestimated my medical knowledge… and my Russian knowledge. Yikes. I’ll definitely learn a lot while I’m there, though. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Saturday we went to the WWII museum. It was sweet. They had an exhibit on an American soldier who ended up fighting with the soviets during WWII. His son is now the American ambassador to Russia. He was on a video talking about his dad, and I didn’t realize he was American. I want my Russian to be like that some day. PLEASE!?!?!?!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-7250053791341727152010-06-27T09:56:00.000-07:002010-06-27T09:57:47.678-07:00The Most Productive Day of my Moscow-Based Life<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Today is Monday. In the earlier years of my long and distinguished life, that meant going back to school after an all-too short weekend, back to 4 hour football practices and AP classes, Mario Andretti-style racing to make it to lunch and back in time, and the ever present feeling that I had one more thing to do. This Monday, I am content. I had the energy to get out of bed early enough to get a quick run in this morning. I had all my homework for the day done last Thursday, so that wasn’t a worry. I went to class till 12:30 and after class the internship coordinator for the Academy told me the internship with the American Medical Center she told me about was impossible. Lame. I was pretty bummed because the only other option was the Russian Childrens Clinical Hospital, where we weren’t even sure if I could do anything medically related or if I would just be fingerpainting with the terminal patients. After that, I got onto the internet (instead of listening to the weekly culture and history lecture) and researched the European Medical Center. After finding the address and memorizing the map that showed where the place was located in relation to the metro stop (which was on the way home, as luck would have it) I set off to go home, take a nap, and do some reading. We got to the stop where the EMC was located, and in a spur of the moment decision, as the doors were closing, I somehow dodged my way through the rush hour mob crowding the metro car I was in and barely made it past the guillotine doors with which each Russian metro car is so charmingly equipped. I got out to the surface, looked around and set off. The big give-away was the Olympic center (two huge stadiums… but I don’t remember there being an Olympiad in Moscow ever… anyone else know for sure?). Once I found that, it was just first alleyway to the right and straight on till morning. Or at least that’s how far it felt. I finally found the place, sweaty and gross in my standard-issue American jeans (read: not skin tight, bedazzled, full of random patches, seams, hems, or designes, etc) and my favorite ASU shirt. I went up to the reception desk and asked if they had any information about internships or volunteer opportunities at their facility. They sent me to the 3<sup>rd</sup> floor to the European Clinic for Sports Trauma and Orthopedics (translation: pre-med heaven). I talked to the reception desk there, and was asked to take a seat. After about 20 minutes I was led into the office of the Medical Director’s office for the entire clinic. He didn’t really understand what I wanted to do (the system is different in Europe) but in the end agreed, and told me to be there Friday morning at 8:30 AM. <span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">What?!?! I came in off the street just looking for information, and ended up setting up a shadowing gig for the whole summer, basically. AWESOME! Then, on my way back to the metro I decided to stop in at Mickey D’s to check email and have a celebratory strawberry milkshake. While surfing, I decided to research the American Medical Center, and ended up talking with the medical director there. He said he might be able to work something out where I could be a nurse’s assistant or something (I think they change diapers in rest homes in the states, but who knows) Also awesome. </span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:RU">Мне повезло</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">. It was, needless to say, a very good day.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-69794681279938690362010-06-01T04:38:00.000-07:002010-06-01T04:42:07.719-07:00Week 2<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">So I’m finally getting into the swing of things. We have class Monday through Thursday from 9 to 12:10. Mondays we have an additional “Culture and History” class Monday afternoon. We have “excursions” every Saturday (which have yet to keep my attention for more than 15 minutes) to interesting places with tours from less than interesting guides (at least thus far). Other than that, we have church on Sundays, and that is it for concrete schedules. I have come to the conclusion, with the help of a wise friend, that there is a decision to be made while here in Moscow. I can either spent 3 months here on an overpriced vacation with a little school on the side, or I can take advantage of the opportunities I have while I am here. Thus far, because of the whole “getting into the swing of things” I have been more on the first side of the fence. I need to get on the ball finding service opportunities or something. It’s also a great time to dive into the scriptures more and do a little self-evaluation and goal setting. Nothing like being in a completely foreign land and culture to help you realize what you really value. Anyway, school is interesting enough. We have a great professor that does a good job of teaching us the ropes of the Russian language and is pretty lenient as far as homework and stuff goes. That being said, I have come to realize that I am not going to learn Russian as well as I want to in these two months unless I put in some extra effort. Ok, a lot of extra effort. I am thinking of going missionary style and writing out a language study plan or something. I have plenty of experience with that stuff, haha, so I shouldn’t have too much trouble. Thursday right after class we ran down to Red Square to the Lenin Mausoleum (which holds outrageously strange and sporadic hours, 10-1, every day except Monday, Friday, weekends, holidays and all throughout May, and you’ll always be wrong no matter what you say!... Sorry, involuntary Brian Regan quote). It was creepy to see a guy who’s been dead for well over half a century. He is kind of plastic looking after all the years of chemicals used to preserve his body. It is also pretty creepy in my opinion to have a dictator and the start of communism on display when Russia is trying so hard to westernize… go figure. I’m learning more and more every day how… different Russians are and their mentality. It’s been fun with my landlady. She likes to talk, cooks pretty well, and is very concerned about my safety. It is a little annoying at times, but all in good fun. Anyway, week two has finished, and week three is here already. Bring it on.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-89327078893404883212010-05-26T01:55:00.001-07:002010-05-26T01:56:02.483-07:00First Week and Playing Catch-Up<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">Check out all the posts from "Zone Conferences" for updates on the last 2 weeks. Good luck. Anyway... this week was crazy. We went to classes (in a classroom the size of a broom closet, PS), went to FHE and an activity at the central branch building, met some cool people (members, students at the academy, some crazy Russian guy who thought we were German and told us since we were Arian we were genetically superior to everyone else, Adam and Eve was a lie, and other interesting drunken rants not for young ears or the faint of heart), bought some man-purses (oh yeah… I went there), checked out a market or two, almost got E. Coli from shaurma on the street, had a boring tour of central Moscow with the group, and went to the International Branch. They tagged us right off the bat and want to give us callings. We (Cam Hardy, Chris Keneipp and I) told them we weren’t sure what branch we were going to be attending, so we couldn’t say. Anyway, crazy week, lots of random stuff, and learning and adjusting to the Russian way of life. I figure if I can manage to get a good picture or two a day, at the end of this all, I’ll have 90 good pictures. We’ll see how that ends up. Life is good, all in all. Stay tuned.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-19499538126294864802010-05-26T01:54:00.001-07:002010-05-26T01:54:59.658-07:00Back to school, back to school....<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">So Saturday, my babushka took me shopping, and to a park called B</span><span lang="RU" style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:RU">Д</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">HX (it’s an acronym, I don’t know what it stands for). We went to Metro, the Costco of Europe, and stocked up on some stuff. Sunday, we went to district conference for the Moscow West district, which was a cool experience. There were 850 ish members in attendance (way more than any district conference I ever had in Croatia, that’s for sure!). We went into red square and wandered around the center for a few hours, then headed home. The first day of classes consisted of a LONG orientation, a pre-test (one of the hardest tests I’ve ever taken, PS) and some gulyat-ing with some of the other members of the group. I think now that I have classes, this might become a weekly thing. Sorry, priorities. Anyway, stay tuned for the next episode of “Where in the world is Robbie Zimmerman?!” (cue theme music).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-90651988332901292112010-05-26T01:53:00.000-07:002010-05-26T01:54:20.460-07:00Paris to Moscow... with Love?<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">6 hours is plenty of time to see Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the outside of the Louvre, shop for souveniers, and have quiche in a French bistro, and still make it back to the airport in time to check in and board with time to spare. I even got lost… twice. No biggie. It was amazing. I can’t wait till I have enough time to actually spend some time there. It was just enough to appreciate the beauty of the city, but definitely not enough to get much out of it. Pictures to follow. After my mad-capped tour of the first arrondissement, I flew to Moscow, my new home for the next 3 months. A cool Turkish guy who works with the Academy picked me up and took me to my apartment. My landlady is a very cheerful retired dentist, and was shocked when I spoke to her in Russian. Apparently none of her past students spoke any Russian when they came. I already have a leg up. Plus, she thinks I’m <span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"">с</span><span lang="RU" style="font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:RU">импатычный.</span><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman""> And who wouldn’t? Anyway, more on the first few days in Moscow later. Internet at McDonald’s is not the most convenient. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-4810756897618026572010-05-26T01:52:00.001-07:002010-05-26T01:52:56.167-07:00Zadar je u srcu mome...<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Zadar. The land of awesomeness. I got in after a ridiculously long bus ride from Split (almost 4 hours, if I remember correctly. Beautiful drive along the coast, we passed through Trogir, Primosten, Biograd, and some other well known vacation spots). I met Sime Grzan in the old town of Zadar on poluotok. We went back to Anka’s place and had lunch along with the other missionaries in Zadar. After lunch, I went into the city, strolled around (I’m beginning to notice how much “strolling” goes on here) poluotok, went to English class, had ice cream at Sveti Donat with the missionaries (since some of them missed out on lunch) and had a great visit with the Plentaj family. It was a great time. I made it back up to Zagreb this morning after a great night’s sleep on Anka’s pull out couch, and ran around like a chicken with my head cut off all day. I visited the Stampar family, Marinka Kos one last time (she got my awesome cell phone/calculator as a gift for her husband who took a liking to it while I was visiting them), had dinner with Fatima, saw Marko Pazanin, and hung out with Kiki for one last time. Now I’m re-packing for Russia, and can hardly wait. I have a 6-ish hour layover in Paris and am going to try to get into the city for a few hours. I can’t imaging spending 6 hours in Charles de Gaulle… I’m getting hives just thinking about that God-forsaken place. Eeeeew. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-91902015955917334252010-05-26T01:51:00.002-07:002010-05-26T01:52:23.370-07:00Boot-scootin' with New Friends<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">So last night, we all got ready and headed into the city after the standard introductions and such. After the festival, lots of sweet Dalmatian 5-star cuisine (lamb, seafood galore, pasticada, veal, pasta, and anything in between, and some delicious and not-so-delicious desserts) and watching my newfound friends drink 10+ glasses of free Dalmatian wine, the crew wanted to find a club and continue the party. The only problem was that it was a Monday night. (Side note: while there were easily hundreds of bottles and jugs of wine at the festival, they were horribly under-stocked on water… I think I counted no more than 10 bottles in the entire place). Anyway, after quite a bit of searching, we found a kafic and parked it at a table. At the festival, we had acquired a few new friends from England staying at a nearby hostel. They joined us for the after party, and everyone ordered beers, vodka, or (in my case) Fanta. I was the designated walker-homer. I helped a girl in the group home. I found out this morning she had blacked out. She didn’t remember the night before after leaving the festival. Good thing I walked her home. Anyway, this morning we got up and rented scooters to “scoot” around the island. I really wanted to check out the Blue Grotto, a sweet underwater cave, but weather wasn’t on our side. It was cloudy and sprinkled on and off all day. We basically saw the entire western half of the island, stopping in any village we felt like, on the side of the road for scenic lookouts, and pretty much anywhere else we wanted. It was AWESOME! I want a scooter. Period. Anyway, lots of sah-weet pics from that and a video of perhaps the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’ll post it later. The guy that came with me and I had lunch at a nice mom-and-pop place right on the sea and actually ended up having a great convorsation about the gospel. We’ll see if it goes anywhere. Now I’m getting ready for an early boat back to the mainland tomorrow and a bus to Zadar. The landlady’s husband asked me why I wanted to leave. He told me to stay, and he would find me a girl, then I could stay for good. I think I’ve made some new friends. </p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-10671103546720093002010-05-26T01:51:00.001-07:002010-05-26T01:51:25.477-07:00Dalmation Vacation<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">So here I am on Hvar on the balcony of my sweet pansion accommodation. I called the best rated “sobe” place listed on the internet, and found it wasn’t terribly expensive. I was really excited and ended up in the dorm room with 5 other really cool people. But first, Split. I got to Split at 7 am, before anything except for a few pekarnas was open. I got to stroll along the riva, do a little shopping, and even took a walking tour (the lady selling tickets was so surprised when I spoke to her in Croatian, she thought I was a native. Don’t mind me as I brush off my shoulder a few times. Anyway, I got a 50% discount, so I couldn’t turn down the offer. Plus, I don’t know anything about Split). The catamaran took off to the island of Hvar at 2 PM so I spent the rest of the time sipping at a sok, having some amazing pasticada (posh-ti-tsah-dah) at an old Split establishment (where the locals go, according to my tour guide) and helping some completely helpless American girls find the right boat to the island. When I checked in, the owner of the place LOVED that I spoke the language. I pretty much had an in from the beginning. I got the insider tip that theres a food and wine festival tonight with free food for all who come down in the city. I came out of my room after getting settled to see a group of 6 people sitting around a picnic table with a bottle of wine, 2 2-liter bottles of Croatian beer (Karlovacko, of course) and a stack of glasses for anyone who cared to join them. I sat down and struck up a conversation (while obviously abstaining from the repeated offers for drinks). I informed my fellow hostellers of the festival, and they were pretty excited. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">So here I am waiting for the others to get ready for a night on the town in the super-faddish stomping grounds of Croatian and International big wigs alike. We’ll see how it goes. (Side note: the landlady’s husband asked me if I had found a girl yet. When I told him I hadn’t, he offered a few choice swear words [or a paragraph, as those of you familiar with Croatian will probably know well, something involving mater, neki dio zenskog tijela, i Bog… classic] and said he’d find me one. I said, “Ajde!”. Kidding of course. I don’t think he was, though.)</p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-288202453603174582010-05-26T01:50:00.001-07:002010-05-26T01:50:33.918-07:00Zone Conferences<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">I attended Zone Conference for the first time in a year and a half. The best part was… I left after lunch! I didn’t have to stay for the whole thing. It was awesome. First off, Slovenia. Slovene ZC was sweet. I got up pretty early to get ready in time for the meeting and to finish up my talk. The meeting didn’t start until 10, so it wasn’t too bad. I finished up writing my talk on “What I’m glad I did to have a Successful Mission.” It went really well, I thought, and afterwards Pres. Hill had me sing “He is Jesus Christ.” It was a great experience. I had lunch with the missionaries, and afterward stayed for the remainder of the conference. After the meetings, we took pictures and all that fun stuff, and I went off to a place called the BTC. It’s pretty much a city disguised as a mall. Ridiculous is what it was. I took some time to stroll around the old town at night (an opportunity few missionaries have, except in the winters when it gets dark around 4:30) and it was great. I talked to a few natives in my broken Slovene and only after having properly butchered their language, they would proceed in English and we would have a pleasant conversation. I got lost, but luckily I’m an expert at getting lost, so it wasn’t a big deal (I was a missionary, after all). So anyway, I made it back to the mission home after getting off on the wrong stop and having to walk an extra kilometer or so. It was pleasant, though, walking through the quiet Slovenian countryside in the shadow of Smartna Gora (I think…). The next day, we drove down to croatia. For the first time, I got to see the chapel in Zagreb in its full completed glory. I was there for the groundbreaking over 3 years ago, and it was a bit of an emotional experience for me. Well, ZC in Zagreb was good as well, and I ate lunch with the missionaries. This time, I had the opportunity to rub shoulders with the missionaries I actually taught… all 16 of them (which is about half the country at this point). It was a cool experience. One of my personal favorite moments, however, was seeing one of my best friends, Kiki Mraz. After lunch I bailed on ZC and went to Kiki’s house on the other side of the city. I saw him from the bus and got a little giddy. It was so cool to see him again. He had invited the missionaries over for dinner, so we had dinner, and since his parents weren’t home, he asked me to spend the night over there. It was awesome to be able to spend time with him, hear about the mission I like to think I helped prepare him for, and just talk about whatever (oh, and watch TV). The rest of the time in Zagreb was pretty uneventful, some shopping, lots of visiting people, a couple of movies (Green Zone and Iron Man 2). It was cool to be able to do everyday things in a place where I used to fantasize about going to movies and hanging out with friends late at night. Weird. I went to church on today at the Zagreb chapel, and it was great. There were more people than usual and a lot of people didn’t know I was going to be in town. It was great to see how some people remembered me, and how I still felt comfortable there. I always wondered if the spirit I felt there was just from being a missionary. I found out today that the spirit is from the faithful members of the church. Priesthood meeting was as exciting as I remembered, complete with a certain unnamed member affirming that it is important for a person to go into marriage with sexual experience… (I never remembered it being that crazy, on second thought). The lesson was on chastity, and got a little… out of hand, we’ll say. In the end we ended up na zelenoj grani, so no worries. Tonight, I’m off to Split on an overnight train… it’s gonna be sah-weet. More later.</p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-23218575727550979872010-05-04T23:50:00.000-07:002010-05-05T00:13:59.060-07:00K-town and Beyond<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm1WE-GtLd5IDYwxk8nfqbDpiPDHyFZcgfYsnN9ZjU1ouD4HFc9D245JKEp80he3S9IGth7aUeOCXJ2coVghN3FQBHiiopdPgQyEfnFmvrHkkNgdxBUkl2sl16kqAdECWhQ48hwOKXHpx/s1600/picture.aspx.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm1WE-GtLd5IDYwxk8nfqbDpiPDHyFZcgfYsnN9ZjU1ouD4HFc9D245JKEp80he3S9IGth7aUeOCXJ2coVghN3FQBHiiopdPgQyEfnFmvrHkkNgdxBUkl2sl16kqAdECWhQ48hwOKXHpx/s320/picture.aspx.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467679715018692658" /></a><br /><div>I spent two wonderfully uneventful days in Karlovac. It was wonderful to see the great members there and see how the branch is doing. Unfortunately, the branch is exactly the same as when I left it almost 2 years ago. There are even fewer members coming regularly, actually. I tried to do my part and talk to some of the less active members I was friends with while I served there. I actually stayed with Marinka Kos, who doesn't come regularly to meetings anymore. I gave her a hard time about it, and hopefully the Karlovac branch will be graced by her presence again soon. I had lunch with the missionaries in K-town and probably "strolled" around the whole city 5 times (which isn't really saying much, honestly). It was a nice relaxing few days, and I think I'm finally catching up with the jet lag. Tuesday morning, Marinka took me up to Zagreb since she works there, and dropped me off at a train stop to ride into center to catch a train to Ljubljana. On the border, they gave me quite a hassle since I had so many stamps in my passport from that particular border crossing. Being a Zone Leader for 1/2 your mission makes for a very full passport, what with all the Mission Councils and AP exchanges in Slovenia. The guy on the Slovene side even radioed in my info and finally gave my passport back and went on his way. The rest of the ride was uneventful. I actually fell asleep for most of it. Then, before you knew it, I was in Ljubljana</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBrSYc_nec8_vBv7XgsWZFEk7M1K9r0W_abqTa49MuV4mRGUS1Amt7X26UJErH5AoyK7IIiUoI5Y4tqxnejf4rTQblPH3CtETQP_KvRt7svdNoDELZqHyr3WlKD5CetpCmhYSRRd6pjJkQ/s1600/preseren-square03.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBrSYc_nec8_vBv7XgsWZFEk7M1K9r0W_abqTa49MuV4mRGUS1Amt7X26UJErH5AoyK7IIiUoI5Y4tqxnejf4rTQblPH3CtETQP_KvRt7svdNoDELZqHyr3WlKD5CetpCmhYSRRd6pjJkQ/s320/preseren-square03.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467680455420913058" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div>Ljubljana is a beautiful city. Small, for sure, but beautiful. It was foggy and rainy, but that didn't stop me from seeing what there was to see. I walked around the old town for about 5 hours, seeing what there is to see (the Ljubljana Castle, the Three Bridges, the Dragon Bridge, etc.). I also made my way out of the city center to a small neighborhood nearby to check out the Archeology Museum. It was really a museum to a guy named Jože Plečnik, one of the most influential architects of his day and certainly the most influential in Ljubljana. Almost every single monument I had aadmired that day was his work. I got a guided tour (it ended up being a private tour, since no one else was there. It only cost 2 euro, too!) of his house and got to see more about how he worked. He loved juxtaposing two ideas or motifs to enhance both of them. It was a nice way to spend an hour outside of the rain. I went back into centar and found a nice restaurant to have lunch at, and did a little window shopping. When I was thoroughly soaked and starting to get shin splints from all the walking, I gave Pres. Hill a call (my mission president) and he came and picked me up. We had a good chat, and went back to the mission home. I am now preparing a talk to give in Zone Conference. Weird. I'm excited though. I'll let you know how it goes. Until then, Adio! </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-43376931440356345062010-05-01T02:41:00.000-07:002010-05-01T03:44:39.341-07:00Limosines and Jet LagI woke up yesterday morning thinking I would get a ride down to the bus station and catch a bus to the costal city of Rijeka, my first of many destinations. My host was driving into the city (we were in a suburb of Zagreb called Zaprešić 15 km outside of the city) and said I could ride with him and one of his collegues. We got to his work (an autoškola), and he started explaining to me how to get to the bus stop closest to us so I could get to the bus station using public transit (I lived here for a year of my mission, so I know it pretty well). After chatting a little bit with some of his collegues, we found one of them was going to be passing the bus station, so he would give me a ride. I got in his car, and after a brief convorsation, ha asked me, ˝Where are you going?˝ I was confused. ˝To the bus station,˝ I replied (thinking, ˝Duh˝ in my head). He asked again, this time clarifying by asking to where I was taking the bus. After establishing that I was going to Rijeka, he said, ''Just a minute, let me make a call.'' He hung up the phone a minute later and said, ''You can come with me to Rijeka, I'm going there today.'' What luck! that's $30 I don't have to spend on a bus ticket. ''Will it be a problem if we go in a limo?'' I laughed, as Croats like to joke about stuff like that (me thinking he was talking about his own, slightly sub-standard car we were currently in). I said that was fine and off we went. We got dropped off a few minutes later in a shady back alley somewhere in the largest city of a country of 4.5 million people. It was pretty typical of any big-city shady back alleyway, complete with abandoned storage units, dead mice, and gruff-looking slavs puffing away on their $1 cigs. My newfound friend, ''Đimi'' (Jimmy) went into a warehouse and opened a huge sliding door. Behind the door, was a stretch hummer limo. Seriously. No, really, I'm not kidding. I'll post pictures later. Anyway, so instead of paying $30 for a smelly stuffy bus ride, I got limo service for free. Wud up.<br /><br />I got to Rijeka after an uneventful ride (as uneventful as limo rides are, at least) and passing lots of curious drivers. When we got to Rijeka, we drove the limo right up onto the harbor next to a stuper trendy cafe and fired up the flat screen that rises up out of the trunk. It was to advertise for a Fatboy Slim concert coming to town some time in the near future. Anyway, I parted ways with Jimmy and the two other random Canadians who came with us and made my way to the church. It was very surreal to be walking around a city I served in without a companion, in street clothes, and without an appointment or something to do. I got to the church, and luckily, the elders were there waiting for an appointment. I had taught 2 of them, so it was a nice little reunion. After dropping off my stuff I ran to a store on the nearby Korzo (the main pedestrian shopping drag) to get the cheapest possible cell phone to use while I'm here. $25 later, I was connected. When I asked for the cheapest, most basic cell phone they had, they delivered. I'll post a picture of that later, too (my card reader isn't working, so I'll need to figure out some other way to upload my pictures).<br /><br />I made a few phone calls, and got an invite to lunch at the Kušen's for Frutti di Mare, my favorite (seafood risotto). After eating WAY too much, we went back down to the church for aktivnost (which flopped... just like the good old days!). Ema and I went to see Clash of the Titans in 3D, then strolled down the Korzo (which I had done many a time in my days as a missionary, but never at 11 PM). We saw a little different crowd than I was used to. It was a completely different world. Girls in mini skirts and 4 inch heels, guys that epitomize the Croatian word ''šminker'' (pretty boy, basically), and even a few ''ladies of the night''. It was quite the eye opener. We got home around midnight, and I crashed on the Kušen's couch bed in the living room. Now, it's 12:30 in the afternoon. I woke up about an hour ago (yes, I slept for almost 12 hours, I'm jet-lagged, get off my back). Today is Croatian Labor Day, so we're getting ready for a barbecue, and nothing is open. Lucky me. So far, the adventure is awesome.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-27415203565291931532010-04-29T19:58:00.000-07:002010-04-29T20:12:56.357-07:00Parentheses in Eccessive AmountsSO... I get to Sky Harbor airport in Phoenix. After my Dad dropped me off at the curb (after having treated me to a delicious lunch at Chuckbox) I went in to check in to my United flight to London through Denver. I failed to read the fine print on my registration, however, that the flight was operated by a different carrier (what does that even mean?) and I had to check in in a different terminal. Luckily, I was 2 hours early like a good international traveller and had plenty of time. Next, I went to the check in counter, and gave the lady my passport, and the information for the connecting flight so my luggage would be checked all the way through. She informed me they didn't have luggage tags long enough for all of my connections and I would have to re-check bertha in London. After a few more little things, I was sitting at the gate waiting for my flight. This was only the beginning of my 22 hour flight/layover fest that awaited me.<br /><br />The flight to Denver was like a roller coaster (and as the flight attendant said, "This is all a free bonus!"), but otherwise fine. The flight to London was outrageously long, but what overseas flight isn't? I sat next to a very pleasant girl from Montana off to visit her boyfriend in London. In London was where the REAL adventure began. After getting hassled by the border guard ("You're a student, are you? Isn't there another term after Easter?") and getting bertha, I went to check into my next flight. Yet again, I was in the wrong terminal. I was directed to take the intra-airport shuttle, the Heathrow Express, to terminal 4. Coming down the endless flights of stairs, I came to the train station at the center of the earth. I just missed my train and had to wait 20 minutes for the next one. At about minute 15, everyone on the platform was informed there was a fire in the outlying area and all train service would halt indefinitely. Of course it would, because <span style="font-style: italic;">I</span> needed a train. "No matter," they say. "Take the tube." Easier said than done. After finding my way out of Dante's inferno and into the underground station, I bought a ticket to go down one stop to Hatton Cross, cross the platform, and get on a train coming back. A ticker for this (which would have been free, mind you) was £3.50 (aka $7.00!). Anyway, after finding my way, I got through security and had 2 hours left in my 4 hour layover.<br /><br />After going through Paris, we transferred to a tic-tac with wings that would fly us in 2 hours to Croatia. I knew I was back in Europe, because the guy I was sitting next to was definitely NOT wearing Old Spice. More like, Eau de B.O. The combined smell of underarm "au naturale" from most of the occupants of my tic-tac invaded my nostrils like a blaring neon <span style="font-style: italic;">Welcome!</span> sign that puts Las Vegas to shame. Anyway, after FINALLY making it to the Zagreb International Airport (which is probably smaller than either Falcon Field or the Provo Airfield), I found my ride and, after a stop at McDonalds (I know, I know, just save it), we made it home. Now here I am at 4 a.m. Croatia time after 6 hours of jet-lag sleep, and I'm wide awake. Translation: long, boring, and perhaps confusing or scatterbrained blog post. Enjoy!<br /><br />Adventure part 2: Flying - check.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-77773670732694935952010-04-29T19:25:00.000-07:002010-04-29T19:58:17.516-07:00Day 1Wednesday, April 28 2010:<br /><br /> I woke up on the day of my departure and started packing. Yes, I said starting. I know, I know... I procrastinate. So sue me (but not really). Anyway, I go through all of my stuff and decide what I can't live without, and pack it all away. After I was almost done, I decided it would probably be smart to see how much this behemoth of a bag weighed. After weighing it (which was in and of itself quite the task) I discovered I had 80 lbs of stuff and suitcase I couldn't live without. Unfortunately, most airlines force you to live with 50 lbs. Hm . . . that's a problem. So I throw out some stuff, zip bertha back up, and try again. 72 lbs. Crap. After a few more tries, I get her down to a slim 50 lbs.<br /><br />Adventure, part one: packing - checkUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5477232362263828362.post-20117468282857664952010-04-26T20:55:00.000-07:002010-04-26T20:59:29.778-07:00That is SO Provo of you...So when I was setting up this blog, I had no idea what I was doing. I know lots of people blog, and I was always one of those "that's so gay" kind of people. Well, here's my foot in my mouth, I guess. This for you all who want to know about my crazy raucous adventures all over Europe this summer. I hereby relieve myself of any feelings of guilt for not keeping in touch with people by setting this up. You may be lucky enough to get a facebook message from me, or maybe if you're really special, a skype call (or if I need something). So here you go. 105 days starts Wednesday. Be excited. I am.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7