We woke up and had breakfast at the cafe next to our room. We had Sicilian pastries and berry Italian ice drinks (and coffee for those who drink coffee). The twins that own the shop were charming. One of the brothers made our dinner reservations at his favorite restaurant for Saturday night (today is Friday).
The Cinque Terra is 5 small villages along the western coast of Italy which are part of a national park. Our goal for this day is to see the first 3 cities. The one to the left is Riomaggiore. We took the train to get here. It was possible to hike the trail in between the cities, but we are living in the 4th city, so traveling back to the 1st city would have taken us all day and we really only have two full days here, so public transportation it is.
The picture on the right is Manarola. We ate lunch here and walked around a bit. The 3rd city, Corniglia is on a hill. I don't have any good 
pictures of it, by the time we got there we were tired.
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We got back to tour rooms and rested a bit. When a celebration started happening outside our windows. The catholic church was celebrating a holiday that had been rained out in July. All the village children were dressed in white. A local marching band was playing. The priest was blessing the children. We watched from our windows (no screens, remember we are in Europe). We headed downtown for dinner and realized we should have made reservations. Everyone from every village was coming to our town for the fireworks and band concert. We finally found a restaurant owner who liked Kenn's face. He let us eat if we promised to be done by 9 pm so his guests with reservations could eat and watch the fireworks. It was only 7 pm so that seemed completely OK. We had our best meal in Italy, really, really good food. Then we sat down by the sea to watch the fireworks.
They exploded loudly over our heads, like gunshots. It was a really good show. It felt like a gift from God. I had been sad to miss the fireworks in America at the 4th of July and here was a holiday that got changed from July to August, just for me. It was a wonderful show with the band concert in the background.
Our goal today is to drive from the east coast of Italy where we arrived on the ferry to the west coast. The sunflowers are everywhere along the Autostrada (the Italian tollway). This should be a 6 hour drive and we are starting off 3 hours + late because the ferry left Greece late. We are no longer going to arrive in the daylight. We cross the fertile valleys full of sunflowers and cross the Italian mountains and finally about sunset see the sea on the western coast.
We wind through the mountains find Vernazza and are looking for the tourist parking lot. It is long past the time when the bus will bring you into the city, so we head out in the dark with our luggage looking for Vernazza. No cars are allowed in the city without a permit. The path is steep and it follows a river or water channel. The sound of it reminds me of Disneyland and the pirates of the carribean area. We finally find the outskirts of the city and we are asking for the post office because our rooms are above the post office. The first man we meet is our landlord...coming to greet us. By now it is 10 pm and we have not had dinner and it seems we have been traveling forever. We check into our rooms and go in search of food. Fortunately for us, the Italians eat late, so we find pizza and head to bed. I am exhausted.
We loaded up the car and drove from Glyfada where we live to Patra to catch the ferry, about a 3 hour drive. You can see Susan in the picture. We also have Annette and Stacie with us. The ferry ride is scheduled to be 17 hours long. We board and find our rooms and get some dinner. We notice at dinner that we are still in the port!! We did not leave until 3 hours later than scheduled. We brought homemade cinnamon rolls with us for breakfast. The ferry was smoke free (different than the last time I was on a ferry). This made our trip much more pleasant. Our small room had 2 single beds and a small bathroom with shower. All in all much more pleasant than I expected. We arrive in Ancona 3 hours late, but excited to be in Italy.
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| Maryam |
Hospitality has obligations in eastern culture. If a relative shows up at your door, you give them the best you have, your room, your food, your time. Hospitality doesn't just apply to relatives. I've watched these past weeks as a refugee family with 5 children took in a small baby who's mother had died. She was clean and scrubbed and well fed and her nails were painted bright pink when they placed her in my arms. Clearly they were loving on her. I watched a refugee friend who has an incredibly difficult life raising her own 4 children with a husband addicted to heroin, take in the 7 year old daughter of a cousin of her husband. Adoption and foster care as systems don't exist in this culture, they just do what needs to be done without financial support, without proper paperwork. Sometime is works well. Other times not so much.
I have a 9 year friend who is a little girl from Afghanistan. Her mother left her with her husband's second wife (or other relative...it is a little unclear). This woman is nearly blind from cataracts. There is no love, just harsh words and a nickname that makes me angry every time I hear her call her daughter that word. I watched our Turkmeni friends take in relatives from out of the country who were terribly rude house guests and then they left early one morning and robbed the house before they left.
What does hospitality look like at our house? 42 adults in our home for a Team Fellowship, plus a few children. Back to back house guests (some we know, others we meet when they arrive) living in our guest room(s). Hosting Bible studies, TV watching nights, friends coming over....all of this seems like nothing because we do it out of abundance and knowing that everything we have belongs to God and it is kind of fun. On the other hand, maybe God is more pleased with what we do out of love in His name than what is done out of "taraf" or obligation in the tradition of Islam. After all, His yoke is easy and His burden is light. Love God. Love people. That is what it is all about, right?
The weather now is cold. I'm wearing my long underwear under my jeans, a turtle neck shirt, a sweater and my raincoat; and I'm still not very warm. How do those who sleep outside in the cold survive? The radiators (heaters) in our building are controlled by the landlord, so they don't come on until evening. We will go through a lot of hot tea today.
The "baby" room is set up and ready to go. Our first guests come running in the door, hoping we might have clothes to give away, but sadly we don't have any to give. We invite them to come back on Wednesday. Our Greek volunteer will sort the donations we have received and we will be ready by Wednesday. Ladies are dropping in looking for pictures from the Christmas parties. The toddler son of an Egyptian family is overwhelmed by the crowd of Farsi speaking children. First he pulls his chair next to my stool. Then he crawls in my lap. Soon he is asleep on my shoulder. Later he wakes up surprised that his perch is not on his mom's shoulder. Then, his mom tells me he has been sick for several days. She is happy for the break. I can look forward to flu and a fever and a week off work. I put sanitizer on my hands, but I think it is too little, too late. It is not just him, almost every child is coughing or has a running nose or fever.
Next a lady comes in with 4 month old twins. A girl for Susie. A boy for me. My arms ache for my granddaughter, who is so far away, so it is a good day to have babies to hold. By now the room is full. There are 20+ children playing on the floor and 6 more moms sitting around talking in our small room. Outside our door, there are no chairs left. A little boy in our room who is new still has trauma issues. You can tell by the way he hordes his toys and will not share or interact with the other children. The others recognize this behavior and let him be. We are so busy that a red rocking horse is taken out of the room. Another parent stops the child as he tries to give it to his mother to take to his house. I don't know how I missed a toddler carrying a 3 foot red horse out the door! LOL!
Later when they start serving food across the street and our numbers dwindle as our friends go to get food. A young mom stops at the door and wants information on how to get an abortion. No one here will tell her and she is frustrated. We tell her, that God loves the children and we do too. We will not help her either. Even if she finds someone to help her, she must pay if she does not have a red card from the government and she doesn't have money. No money to raise a child. No money to end a pregnancy. We pray for her.
Near the end of the day, Kenn comes to find me. He and Ebi have made some new friends he wants me to meet. They are 3 families from Iran. Two families are believers. The third is seeking. The women do not have their head covered. They are afraid for the Afghans to know they follow Jesus, but want to find other believers.they have been here for several months and not met any other Farsi speaking believers. Someone sent them to us. They feel that God has brought them on this adventure to share Christ with the Afghans even though they are afraid. I introduce myself, but the day is over before I get to fully hear their story. I hope they will come back. I would like to have them in our home.
We say our good-byes (khoda ha fez) with hugs and kisses. We wipe tables. We sweep. We mop. We walk up the hill. We ride the train. We ride the bus. We walk down our street. Finally we are home again.
I read a story recently about Hillel, a famous rabbinic teacher who lived a generation before Jesus:
Once when Hillel concluded his lesson and began walking away, his disciples asked him "Master, where are you going?" He answered, "To do a mitsvah (commandment)." They said to him, "And what is the mitsvah you are going to do?" He answered, "To take a bath in the bath house." "That's a mitsvah?!" they exclaimed. "Yes," he said. "The images of kings are placed in their theaters and circuses. The one appointed to look after these images scrubs and washes them and they [the kings] pay his wages. Not only that, but he is honored like one of the nobles of the kingdom. Now we who have been created in the image and likeness of God, as it is written, 'for in His image did God make man' [Genesis 9:6], how much more [should we scrub and wash ourselves]." [Leviticus Rabbah 34:3]
Our building has been closed for remodeling for the last 6 weeks, so we have not been able to offer showers to the refugees we work with this summer until yesterday. One of our teammates opened up her home and we invited 5 Afghan women and 11 children in for the afternoon to wash their clothes and take showers. The picture to the right is what happens when twin girls find a bucket of water on a warm afternoon, but I thought it best depicted the joy that comes on a day of "holy" scrubbing and washing.
So what does a "shower day" look like? The men are banished. The head scarves come off. The chatter is all in Farsi. The toddlers are on the balcony. One is riding a small Fisher Price car...she is driving to Germany. Another is riding a rocking horse chasing the car. The older children are inside coloring and watching a video. One woman and her children are in the shower. Other women are waiting their turn. Yet another woman is combing out wet hair. The washing machine is humming. Later we order lunch and have souvlaki delivered. The day is hot. The breeze is warm. Laughter is in the air. It is a good day.
We woke up and had breakfast at the cafe next to our room. We had Sicilian pastries and berry Italian ice drinks (and coffee for those who drink coffee). The twins that own the shop were charming. One of the brothers made our dinner reservations at his favorite restaurant for Saturday night (today is Friday).
pictures of it, by the time we got there we were tired.
