12 Photos from 2012

Here we are, the last day of 2012. The world did not in fact end, and, in that same vein, a lot of other things didn’t end as well— namely the lives of my mom and my brother Eric, who both had horrible complications with appendicitis earlier in the year (Eric also got hit by a truck. Way to keep your guardian angels on their toes, guys). As has been the case the past three years, I come to December 31st overwhelmingly grateful that everyone in my family is alive. It’s a good way to get some perspective.

More than that, though, this is an especially good New Year because of the man who loves, protects, and cherishes me: not as a boyfriend or fiancée, but now as my husband. This is a new chapter of my life, and I’m excited about the life Zachary and I are building together.  I’m sitting in my townhouse with my new last name and rings on my finger and a Christmas tree while snow falls outside, working on my online job that has allowed me to travel and now allows me to mold my schedule around my husband’s. It’s a good day.

So, without much ado, here are 12 photos of some of the neat places I’ve been in 2012. Happy New Year’s Eve, everyone!

January: Hanging out on the beach in San Diego with Mary.

February: Hiking at Multnomah Falls, Oregon, with Zachary.

March: Hiking at Redwoods National Forest, California.

Later in March: Visiting Mary at her new workplace (aka SeaWorld San Diego).

Late May: Christian and I soaking in more sun in San Diego on a trip to visit Mary.

July: Playing at Cornerstone Music Festival with Insomniac Folklore. Zachary proposed three days later.

August: Hiking alone near the fairy-tale city of Salzburg, Austria.

September: Cycling with Mary and Elly near their home in the Netherlands.

October: Reunited with my family, at a picnic at Pere Marquette State Park, Illinois.

December (out of order, I know): Mikko playing with Eric and Sarah's Christmas puppy, Willow.

November: Getting ready to walk to the altar with my lovely bridesmaids, Ivy, Sarah, Mary, and Amy.

Caught for life… and couldn't be happier!

On Fairy-Stories, Part Five

One last word from Tolkien on the subject of children, good for all of us to remember as we approach the New Year:

Children are meant to grow up, and not to become Peter Pans. Not to lose innocence and wonder, but to proceed on the appointed journey: that journey upon which it is certainly not better to travel hopefully than to arrive, though we must travel hopefully if we are to arrive.

~~~

On Fairy-Stories, Part Four

As most of you know, I just finished my weekend job in which I transform into a Scandinavian elf and roam St. Charles’s Main Street spreading good cheer and handing out collector cards. I’m accompanied by another elf, an angel, a fairy, the Nutcracker Prince and Clara, and a host of gift-givers from around the world, such as Father Christmas, Pere Noël, Julinese, and La Befana. Each one of us lives in the magical reality, and it’s a job I take very seriously. This frustrates a lot of people. Here is a typical conversation with an adult when there aren’t any children around:

Mikkel and Mikko, Christmas elves, children of the Scandinavian fay.
Depicted cuddling a cute doggie.

ADULT: So are you guys students from Lindenwood, or what?

MIKKO: No, I finished elf school a few centuries ago.

ADULT: Haha, of course. But seriously, where are you from?

MIKKO: Scandinavia. I grew up on the Swedish-Finnish border.

ADULT: In real life?

MIKKO: Of course in real life! I live up at the North Pole now, though.

ADULT (trying to figure out if she’s talking about Alaska): Where’s that?

MIKKO: On top of the world. 

ADULT (gives her a blank look)

MIKKO: I work for Santa. I’m in charge of making sure all the toys get made.

Getting ready for a parade.

ADULT (starting to get fed up): Do you know how old I am?

MIKKO: I’m terrible at guessing humans’ ages. I’m 647.

ADULT (gives up and walks away)

MIKKO: Gleðileg Jól!

It doesn’t take long to learn that adults expect fantasy to be a sly and utterly fake performance solely for the benefit of children. On the contrary, sincere fantasy is crucial to both children and adults.

Last year, I saw a Santa (not involved in Christmas Traditions, I might add) who was lining up kids to sit on his lap. After just a few minutes, I realized that Santa spoke loudly and jovially to the children, interjecting “Ho! Ho! Ho!” in a booming voice wherever possible. But when he talked to the adults over their children’s heads, he dropped the act and spoke in his normal voice. I felt insulted on the children’s behalf. Santa wasn’t taking this seriously. To him, this was just another day on the job, fooling children with a fake beard.

This is something that has always bothered me about the story of Santa Claus. Parents teach their children this fairy-story as if it’s a lie that they’ll have to learn about someday. I much prefer the way my parents taught me. As little kids, my brother and I had an argument about whether or not the Santa we’d seen downtown was the real Santa Claus. I said he was, and my brother said he wasn’t. Furious, I ran up to Mom and demanded an answer.

“No, that person downtown wasn’t the real Santa Claus,” Mom said calmly. “He was a man dressed up like Santa Claus.”

Some people have heard me tell this story and gasp in horror that my mother would shatter my fantasy like that. However, this revelation did nothing of the kind. I felt mildly miffed that my brother was right and I was wrong, but the incident strengthened my belief in Father Christmas. He was too magical and majestic to be crammed into a red suit and squeezed down a chimney. From then on, I imagined him as he appeared in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe— real but otherworldly.

The honest belief in the magical was something my parents infused in me from the beginning: something to be cherished all throughout life, not just as a child. In short, they took me seriously, as every child should be.

This is all a roundabout way of bringing up this quote from Tolkien’s On Fairy-Stories:

It is true that the age of childhood-sentiment has produced some delightful books (especially charming, however, to adults) of the fairy kind or near to it; but it has also produced a dreadful undergrowth of stories written or adapted to what was or is conceived to be the measure of children's minds and needs. The old stories are mollified or bowdlerized, instead of being reserved; the imitations are often merely silly, Pigwig-genry without even the intrigue; or patronizing; or (deadliest of all) covertly sniggering, with an eye on the other grown-ups present. I will not accuse Andrew Lang [an author who compiled fairy-tales] of sniggering, but certainly he smiled to himself, and certainly too often he had an eye on the faces of other clever people over the heads of his child-audience —to the very grave detriment of [his works].

Magic is a real part of life, and it should be taken seriously. To this day I firmly believe in Santa Claus— part of Faërie, as mysterious and elusive as the rest. Merry Christmas, everyone!

~~~

On Fairy-Stories, Part Three

A baby never gets tired of playing peek-a-boo. No matter how many times you cover your eyes, the baby feels excited tension, even though he isn’t able to name his suspense about whether or not he’ll see your face again. No matter how many times you pull back your hands, the child will have exactly the same reaction: delight, relief, and pure happiness. 

This fades as we grow up— mostly as a defense mechanism. The joys and sorrows of adulthood and (I shudder to think of it) adolescence would be far too much to handle if we didn’t temper this childish existence-in-the-moment with grown-up sense of coping. Still, it has always surprised and saddened me how quickly I become jaded. Some days I look up at the clouds and wonder when was the last time I noticed their shapes, or listen to a bird and wonder why I’ve been tuning out the sounds around me, or feel the soaking cold as I walk and wonder why I’m surprised to take note of it. 

Our mind figures out and organizes what is “normal,” and we live with that filter turned on far too often. Sometimes we need a kick, a breath of the hills and forests of Faërie, to help us see the world around us. As Tolkien says:

We do not, or need not, despair of drawing because all lines must be either curved or straight, nor of painting because there are only three “primary” colours. We may indeed be older now, in so far as we are heirs in enjoyment or in practice of many generations of ancestors in the arts. In this inheritance of wealth there may be a danger of boredom or of anxiety to be original, and that may lead to a distaste for fine drawing, delicate pattern, and “pretty” colours, or else to mere manipulation and over-elaboration of old material, clever and heartless. But the true road of escape from such weariness is not to be found in the willfully awkward, clumsy, or misshapen, not in making all things dark or unremittingly violent; nor in the mixing of colours on through subtlety to drabness, and the fantastical complication of shapes to the point of silliness and on towards delirium. Before we reach such states we need recovery. We should look at green again, and be startled anew (but not blinded) by blue and yellow and red. We should meet the centaur and the dragon, and then perhaps suddenly behold, like the ancient shepherds, sheep, and dogs, and horses— and wolves. This recovery fairy-stories help us to make. In that sense only a taste for them may make us, or keep us, childish.

~On Fairy-Stories

~~~

On Fairy-Stories, Part Two

J.R.R. Tolkien was often criticized by his contemporaries for “dabbling in fantasy,” considered to be a plaything for children and nothing else. In his essay On Fairy-Stories, Tolkien addresses this criticism head-on:

To many, Fantasy, this sub-creative art which plays strange tricks with the world and all that is in it, combining nouns and redistributing adjectives, has seemed suspect, if not illegitimate. To some it has seemed at least a childish folly, a thing only for peoples or for persons in their youth. As for its legitimacy I will say no more than to quote a brief passage from a letter I once wrote to a man who described myth and fairy-story as “lies”…

“Dear Sir,” I said—Although now long estranged,

Man is not wholly lost nor wholly changed.

Dis-graced he may be, yet is not de-throned,

and keeps the rags of lordship once he owned:

Man, Sub-creator, the refracted Light

through whom is splintered from a single White

to many hues, and endlessly combined

in living shapes that move from mind to mind.

Though all the crannies of the world we filled

with Elves and Goblins, though we dared to build

Gods and their houses out of dark and light,

and sowed the seed of dragons—'twas our right

(used or misused). That right has not decayed:

we make still by the law in which we're made.”

Fantasy is a natural human activity. It certainly does not destroy or even insult Reason; and it does not either blunt the appetite for, nor obscure the perception of, scientific verity. On the contrary. The keener and the clearer is the reason, the better fantasy will it make. If men were ever in a state in which they did not want to know or could not perceive truth (facts or evidence), then Fantasy would languish until they were cured. If they ever get into that state (it would not seem at all impossible), Fantasy will perish, and become Morbid Delusion.

For creative Fantasy is founded upon the hard recognition that things are so in the world as it appears under the sun; on a recognition of fact, but not a slavery to it… If men really could not distinguish between frogs and men, fairy-stories about frog-kings would not have arisen.

In short, Tolkien points out that creativity flourishes on a foundation of truth and logic. Artists and storytellers accept the laws of the natural world before bending them, and this bending is the most natural thing in the world. In creating fantasy, a storyteller helps readers see the world through the eyes Faërie, vivifying the natural by the supernatural. The best fantasy clarifies the world instead of obscuring it, and Magic is a complement to Reason.

~~~

On Fairy-Stories, Part One

With Tolkien on everybody’s minds, I thought it was a good time to bring up one of the most brilliant pieces he ever wrote: an essay titled On Fairy-Stories. (It is also a companion to the heartbreaking and beautiful story Leaf by Niggle, which makes me cry and feel powerful hope every time I read it.) In his passionate discourse, Tolkien defends the mythical and the fantastic as essential parts of adult life. 

“Fairy-stories,” or tales of the world of Faërie and how it collides with our own, are not falsehoods or child’s play: they are essential elements of the way we interpret our lives, understand our reality, and face the brutality of our present world. Fairy-stories are not factual, but they are truthful. They are, in a sense, the story of the world.

If you want to read the whole essay (it’s long, but well worth the ride), here is the manuscript in full. In the next couple days I’ll post a few excerpts that jumped out at me.

~~~

Where Was God?, a guest blog

My friend Rachel posted this beautiful response to Mike Huckabee’s video about last week’s tragedy. I am reblogging with her permission. Kyrie Eleison.

~~~

I've seen the suggestion so many times now that somehow God wasn't there in the tragedy on Friday, or that somehow He let it happen — because of the godlessness of our country, because somehow we’ve “systematically removed Him.” While Huckabee is not without some valid things to say, I think the core of what he's saying does not reflect the truth at all.

I will tell you where God was: He was there the whole time. He was with those children, comforting them in their last moments, and with those teachers, giving them courage. He was weeping, and is still weeping with us. He did not cause this evil. And the idea that our country caused this evil is incredibly simplistic (not to mention very politically biased in the particulars). The problem of evil is much larger than that: it is both worldwide and in every single one of us. Following the Ten Commandments like Huckabee suggests won't get us anywhere, because in the end, we can't do it. The Law is not the solution, neither in the Bible nor for our country. We are completely and utterly broken, and we need a Savior. 

This world is fallen and evil to the core, and we may never fully understand why things like this happen, but we know this: God did not, and has never, abandoned us. In the midst of our darkness and sorrow, in the midst of the evil of our entire fallen humanity, God did not leave us to our fate; He did not abandon us to our own destruction. Instead, He did the opposite. He came to us, and joined himself to us in the most incredible, unexpected way possible, in a way we remember at this time of year in particular: He became human, born as a baby, born into poverty, born into oppression, born into a life of sorrow. Through His life, the first human life to go against the grain of evil entirely, He is restoring humanity from the inside out. Through his death, every one of us is offered forgiveness and reconciliation. And through His resurrection, He has broken the power of death forever. Evil does not have the final word. He is making all things new. And someday, He will come back, and the world will be made whole again, and we will be fully healed, and He will wipe away every tear from our eyes. 

In the meantime, we lament and we mourn and we grieve, for there is much that is wrong here, much that remains to be healed. And we pray for the grace to be light in this dark world, for we know we are no better than anyone else, and we depend on our Father. But things are changing, slowly yet surely, and it will not be this way forever. God is healing this broken world.

So all that to say, it is tempting in the face of tragedies like this to point the finger at others, particularly at those whose policies we disagree with, whether at certain people or an entire culture. Those of us who are Christians especially need to avoid this, for we of all people should know that, like G.K. Chesterton said, the problem with the world is “me.” We are all hopelessly lost and fallen, and none of us have the power to change things through our own efforts, but we have received grace, a grace that is extended to the world. Instead of pointing the finger, let us ask God for the power to weep with those who weep and comfort those who mourn, to provide for the widow and orphan and to help soothe the hurts of the world. Perhaps there are things we need to discuss as Christians and as a culture, but let us always remember that we have a God who loves the world, a God who is truly with us — “Emmanuel.”

~~~

Travel Tip Tuesdays: 10 Ways to Save Money for a Trip (or anything else)

Many people are baffled that I was ever able to save up enough money to travel. Although my online job was mostly responsible for my freedom, I didn’t make as much money as you’d think. All in all, the best way to get money for a trip is to save it. As my mom once pointed out to me, saving money is like earning tax-free income!

Grocery-shopping is helpful
when you're on the road, too.

If you want to save up money for a trip (or anything else), here are 10 things you can do, big and small, to make your dream happen:

1. Figure out if saving the money is worth it. If you really want to save up enough money for a trip, you can. But to do that, you may have to sacrifice an awful lot, and if you have children or a wife to take care of, then this issue is much bigger than just you. However, if you’re young, single, and healthy, there is nothing to keep you from taking your dream trip. 

2. Make a budget. My monthly income fluctuates wildly, so my plan has always been to sit down when I get my paycheck and figure out how much I have left after tithe (10% of your income that goes to charity), rent, and basic bills. Then I divided that up among savings, groceries/supplies, and spending. Creating a budget takes about ten minutes and can save you hundreds of dollars over the course of the year.

Besides, DIY dessert is much more exciting!

3. Stop going into debt. One of the biggest causes of debt is unnecessary college education. A few years ago, many of my friends and acquaintances were headed to college with no idea what to do or why they were attending. Now, many of them have dropped out, pursued other interests, or just graduated with no job, still no clue what to do, and a massive debt on their shoulders. If you don’t know why you’re going to college and you’re racking up a debt, stop. If you already have debt, make paying it off your top priority. Debt is enslaving, so only submit to it for a darn good reason. 

4. Drop your smartphone, cable TV or Internet. Yes, I know. This is akin to asking someone to cut off their limbs. Believe me, though, it can be possible. A simple cell phone doesn’t have GPS or Fruit Ninja, but the drop in price might be worth it. Maybe you can forget cable and rely on Internet TV or Netflix, which continue to improve. Maybe you can do without Internet at all, relying on texting and free wi-fi hotspots for your e-mailing needs. Assess how much these things are worth to you, and if you need to, let them go.

5. Cut down or give up expensive habits. If you like to smoke, shop recreationally, buy comic books, visit the bar, drink gourmet coffee, go the movies, or dine at TGI Friday’s on a regular basis, take stock of what you’re doing. Is it really worth the money to you? Could you cut down on the frequency of these expensive habits to save money for something else? If you stopped a habit that cost you $3 a day, such as getting a fancy beverage at Starbuck’s every day, at the end of the year you’d have $1,095— enough for a round-trip plane ticket to Europe!

6. Shop for groceries and make your own food. Even an on-the-go person who hates to cook can find cheap and easy meals at grocery stores these days. Try being vegetarian one or two days a week to avoid purchasing expensive meat. Buy food on sale and eat whatever’s cheap. 

Sharpie doodling: prolong your jeans' life and make
yourself look like a cool indie kid in the process.

7. Don’t impulse-buy. This applies to groceries as well as everything else. Impulse buying can be fun every once in a while, but never let it become a habit. Stick to your budget. 

8. Try buying used instead of new. Thrift stores and Craigslist have never made it easier to get high-quality items for a ridiculously low price. If you’re trying to save money, it’s better to spend the extra time to root through the racks or the listings for higher-quality clothes, shoes, furniture and appliances for a much lower price than you could buy new. (Cheap Wal-Mart pants that last a few months: $10. Levi’s jeans bought at Goodwill that last two years: $6.)

9. Do little things to save money. Eat leftovers. Turn down the heat in your house in winter and up in summer. Put your spare change in a jar. Don’t leave lights on. Shower every other day. Walk somewhere instead of driving. Go on a picnic instead of out to a restaurant. Borrow movies and books from the library. Buy food in bulk and freeze it for later. Share resources. Barter. 

10. Keep perspective. For some people, it’s not worth it to sacrifice their comforts for a longer-term goal. For others, it’s better to give up a lot in the present to make room for better things in the future. You have to decide what is important to you, and spend your time and money on that. For the past few years, travel was an essential part of my life, and so I was willing to give up a lot for it. I think the memories, skills, joys and perspectives I gained were well worth the little sacrifices. It’s up to you to decide what is important to you.

~~~

Where to Go: Sea Lion Sound, St. Louis Zoo

To all my St. Louis friends who have yet to check out the Sea Lion Sound at the St. Louis Zoo, this video is your motivation.

Did I mention that both the Zoo and the Sound are completely free to the public? Take some time and go experience the magic of these magnificent sea mammals!

~~~

Travel Quote of the Day

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” 

~Terry Pratchett

Where to Go: Nine Sisters, California

When I told people in California that I was from St. Louis, everyone automatically assumed that I meant San Luis Obispo, located on the coast about halfway between San Francisco and Los Angeles. For that reason, and because there was a hostel there, I decided to visit the town as part of my California Hostel Tour in February of 2010. 

In doing so, I discovering uniquely gorgeous countryside— as well as a string of nine volcanic peaks and hills known as “Nine Sisters” or “The Morros.” I only got to actively hike one, but I walked a 20-mile stretch of highway beside them, ending at the bay, where the final sister rose directly out of the water. The views are still vivid in my mind, intense with green grass and yellow wildflowers. And the hikes in this area are some of the best I’ve ever taken.

Why you should go: The incredible countryside between San Luis Obispo and Morro Bay is best viewed from these peaks. The hikes are not Midwest-level easy, but they are manageable for even a Missourian like myself. 

How to get there: This helpful site has detailed directions for several different hikes all around the area.

What to bring: Good shoes, comfy clothes (with layers), water and snacks. I also highly recommend taking along a camera and binoculars.

What to do: Hike! If you want to do something else as well, take a drive along Cabrillo Highway, and visit the charming downtown of San Luis Obispo and the touristy but fun waterfront district of Morro Bay. 

What else you need to know: You can either stick to the paths or brave the boulders at the top of each hill for better views. Just watch your step, or you may end up back on the plain sooner than you think!

~~~

On Perfectionism

My desk at the Hook Spy Agency, with everything in
order, just the way I wanted. If it had been up to me, the
whole world would have been just as organized.

If I had been born into a different family, I’m pretty sure I would have grown up to be OCD. Given the choice, I will sort my m&ms by color, keep the kitchen stove spotless, and straighten the card deck every time a new card is played. As a kid, I wanted everything— what I said, what I did, what everybody else said and did— to be perfect.

This tendency was (metaphorically) beaten out of me throughout my childhood. Mom made me give impromptu speeches in school, even though the uncertainty of unplanned speaking made me break down sobbing. My dad rearranged my entire room, including my carefully-crafted book corner, one afternoon when I was away. My brother Christian focused a good deal of his childhood energy on singing lyrics wrong, just to annoy me. And I always shared a room with my sister, who left her toys lying around even when I wanted a clean floor (and, to be fair, vice versa). 

As a kid, sobbing into my pillow or yelling at my brother, I never could have guessed that those semi-traumatic events would be some of the biggest blessings of my life. I never could have guessed that the constant upsetting of my plans done my way in my time not only curbed my selfishness, but prepared my heart for my greatest adventures.

Perfectionism is dampening, even crippling. With rigid perfectionism you can’t create art (including writing), you can’t be open to new opportunities, and you certainly can’t get in a serious relationship with someone. Perfectionism is self-centered. It makes the world only as big as yourself, your expectations, and your standards. 

A messy life: washing mud off your shoes after an
intense hike in Oregon with your true love.

So I give this challenge to all my perfectionist-tending friends: break free! Start small, with doing something you’re not good at. Solve a math problem. Draw a portrait. Break up a routine that you rely on. Let other people into your life. Let them mess up your plans and your systems. Let them explode your expectations, challenge your ideas, and drive you nuts. Let them capture your heart even though you are absolutely not going to get into a romantic relationship until you come back from Europe because that was the plan you made and you’re not going to let anybody mess it up! Let the illusion of control shatter.

What’s left after that? Freedom. Once you break free of perfectionism, there is creativity, spontaneity, flexibility and compromise. You forget about being self-centered and accomplish the impossible in a messy way. This is essential in art (which can and never will be perfect and takes forever to become even “good”), travel (where an open mind is key to a meaningful experience), and relationships (when you must look honestly at someone’s flaws and love him just the same). 

Although I still battle perfectionist tendencies (and always will, I suspect), I’m grateful for my family, who let me know loud and clear that the universe did not revolve around me and my little expectations— the world is bigger than that. Thank goodness!

~~~

Travel Tip Tuesdays: Learn a Travel Skill

You all know I love to write. It’s my profession, my hobby, my bread and butter, my inspiration, my way of viewing the world, and a great way to share my travels with others. However, when I’m on the road, few people learn that I’m a writer— more people think of me as a musician. Why? Because I sing and play piano whenever I get the chance, which immediately gets people’s attention and draws them into conversation with me. 

A kind hosteler on San Juan Island, WA, let me
try out his mandolin after I heard him playing
in the common room.  I bought my own
mandolin a year later.

Whenever I’m at a hostel that has a piano, I sit down and start bumbling through my limited repertoire. Someone always approaches me. This often leads to a conversation, some shared songs, or a full-out music night where a more qualified pianist shoves me off the bench and lets me sing and play bongos instead.

The same principle applies to drawing. Most people leave you alone if you’re reading a book, but if you’re sketching something, many people will come over to see what you’re up to. The next thing you know, you have a game of Pictionary going on. Origami also works wonders on this front.

This is all to illustrate my travel tip of the day: If you’re traveling with the intention of engaging and meeting people, learn a travel skill.

My band, Insomniac Folklore, excelled at drawing people in when we were on tour in summer of 2011. We’d pile out of our van at rest stops and practically attract a crowd through feats of contortionist yoga, juggling, and turtle-wrangling (yes, having a pet turtle does draw people’s attention). While traveling solo, I’ve used journalling, cooking, dish-washing, and Sharpie-tattooing as a way to engage the people around me.

This kind of engagement is important because, to me, people are what travel is all about. The more you can reach out to the people around you, the more enriching and memorable your trip will be.

~~~

Two Christmas Albums

Music is one of the worst and best things about Christmas. From the jab-your-ears-out Muzak, to the spine-tingling renditions of carols, to Jon and Yoko singing about the New Year, ‘tis the season for music, good and bad.

Two of my favorite Christmas albums are Bruce Cockburn’s Christmas and Joan Baez’s Noël. They are synonymous with this time of the year because my dad has been playing them for me for as long as I can remember. The moment I hear either of these musician’s voices, I immediately want to decorate a Christmas tree and set up a Nativity. (As a result, it’s a disorienting experience to hear any of their other albums.)

Bruce Cockburn’s music is infused with a sense of reverence as well as childlike joy (Mary Had a Baby was my favorite song as a kid), and Joan Baez conveys a sense of wonder and tenderness. Her version of O Come, O Come Emmanuel is my favorite that I’ve ever heard.

These albums also include some carols you may have never heard before, such as:

The Coventry Carol

Jesus Ahatonnia (The Huron Carol, in the original language)

Carol of the Birds

Riu, Riu, Chiu

If you’re looking for some interesting yet classic Christmas music, check out these two albums. They are worth listening to year after year.

~~~

A Vocabulary Quiz

The company I work for posted a vocabulary quiz, and I’m ashamed to admit that I only scored 76%. (I thought I knew what a “yeoman” was. I didn’t.) Can you do better? Leave a comment with your score!

~~~

Travel Tip Tuesdays: European Travel: Six Beginner's Mistakes to Avoid

“Learn from your mistakes, but if possible, learn from others’ mistakes.”

"Dublin has water fountains, but only in
Terminal 1? CRAZY! Let's take a photo!"

My first (and only) trip to Europe was a haphazard experience, filled with lots of drama, stress, joy, adventure, memories, and goats. It is a trip I will never forget, one that gave me a lot of new perspective and a lot of great stories. However, the trip was much harder than it should have been, and most of that was due to beginners’ mistakes. I will now share them with you, so that all you first-time European travelers will arrive better prepared than I was!

Mistake #1: Not bringing enough water. I soon found out that there are no water fountains in Europe. (Okay, maybe there are a few, but they are few and far between!) Whether stranded in Terminal 2 of the Dublin airport or wandering downtown Hamburg, I found myself dehydrated to the point of delirium more than once. Bring two or more water bottles, and when you find a water source, chug as much as you can. 

Mistake #2: Not carrying any coins. Basically every toilet in Europe requires payment, and they often demand exact change. The moment you get into Europe, buy something small and start accumulating coins as fast as you can.

Mistake #3: Assuming your American credit card will work. Trying to buy my first train ticket, I was informed that my card was invalid. Fortunately I had enough cash, but it completely drained my supply of euros. Always carry enough bills to get you where you need to go, or else leave yourself extra time to find an ATM.

Mistake #4: Not bringing a phrase book. Learn to say both forms of, “Excuse me” (getting someone’s attention and apologizing for bumping into someone), followed by “Do you speak English?” in the native language. And then bring a phrase book for everything else. It’s a horrible thing to be stranded in the middle of Germany with no idea what the words for “ticket counter,” “ATM” and “departing trains” are.

Day one in Europe: jet-lagged Lisa who is, believe it
or not, attempting a smile in front of the Amsterdam
train station. Jet lag makes you feel the way my face
looks in this picture. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Mistake #5: Not preparing enough for jet lag. I assumed that jet lag would involve me feeling exhausted for a few days and getting hungry at weird hours. Instead, my body went into an all-out revolt, turning me into a drugged-out panic-attack-waiting-to-happen with no appetite and lots of nausea. It took me a solid week before I felt that I had a grasp on reality again. Have all the details worked out for your first week so that you don’t have to worry about thinking on your feet when your brain is back in America. Which brings me to my final point…

Mistake #6: Thinking that planning will stifle your freedom. If you’re a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of traveler, as I generally am, you may cringe at the thought of planning an itinerary. Take a deep breath, and then plan, plan, plan. If you want some freedom, give yourself some gaps in your schedule, and/or make sure your reservations are refundable— but for the love of cheesecake, don’t just go where the wind blows you unless, a) you are a hardcore nomad, b) you have unlimited money, or c) you just got engaged right before the trip and suddenly found your whole world flipped upside down and you just couldn’t focus enough to get your act together but still wanted to have the adventure (okay, never mind; the last point gives you no excuse to stress yourself out by not planning). 

The balance to this final point is that even in the craziness of on-the-fly planning, amazing things can happen— such as an incredible unplanned week in the Netherlands. That’s the beauty of travel, and life, and anything worth doing: no matter how many things go wrong, something wonderful can still emerge.

Still, it never hurts to learn from others’ mistakes.

~~~

Cheater, Cheater, Pumpkin Eater

Today, I continued proofreading my student papers that I started on yesterday. Their assignment this week is “Basic Book Report.” Many of them are doing well, and several of them put a lot of initiative into their work. Others, however…

So far I’ve proofread five papers. Two of the five students blindly lifted a paragraph (one lifted a three-paragraph synopsis) directly from the Internet. Neither of them changed a single word. 

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
I'm sure she won't notice if I use that as an opening."

I was appalled. Did they think I wouldn’t notice the drastic change in their writing style? That I’m too old and technologically-challenged to copy-and-paste a phrase into Google? Or did they simply not think about it, just assuming that it was okay to pass off someone else’s words for their own?

My guess, one I got over my fury, is that they both got overwhelmed. It’s clear that writing doesn’t come naturally to either of them, and when I requested major additions to both of their papers, it’s not hard to see how the temptation to cheat would take over. It’s not an excuse, of course, but it helped me feel a measure of compassion toward them.

As a teacher, of course, it’s frustrating. It’s hard to find the balance between pushing your students and expecting too much of them. In the case of these two students, I feel the need to encourage them— they can both write well when they put a lot of effort into it. They are capable of doing this, just as I was capable of solving polynomial equations in high school even though I had to study for hours to even hope for a good score on my math test. Once, in middle school, my brother/math-study-companion/math-proficient-person left the room, and I dashed over to his page and tried to copy down his answers. He caught me before I could even take a glance, and then I drowned in guilt for… well, the rest of that school year.

Sometimes, stuff is just hard. Writing is something that comes naturally to me, but all I have to think of is mathematics or piano playing and I flinch. I managed to gain a reasonable level of proficiency in piano. I never mastered math. But after that day in middle school, I never cheated again.

I wrote both of my students a short, firm note which explained that copy-and-pasting is unacceptable. Then I let it go at that— I think it’s fair to give them one warning. Just one.

~~~