Some reflections/memoirs about my time here, brief and scattered, I penned in my journal last night, I hope they give you a few more glimpses of what it's been like:
When I walked into the hostel back when Wayne was the manager, or like he did just the other day as he biked passed me on the sidewalk, he would shout out with his half Australian, half uniquely-Wayne accent, 'Big man!'
When I walk into the Posh Lounge I'll likely find a Sweedish girl there knitting, though they are just as likely found in the kitchen doing the same.
Sometimes the sky is a deep deep blue with night time inside of it and stars sparkling through. Sometimes, like tonight, it's an almost-ugly grey, and it would be ugly if it weren't so beautiful. And when the sun gets stuck and lingers on the horizon - whether it's going down or coming up - bits of the sky get lit up with a whole variety of pastels. And I suppose that's no different from other places where the sun sets or rises, but there is something peculiar and wonderful about the pastel bits of sky being juxtaposed against the old plain stone building tops.
Sitting in St. Giles and looking up - sometimes it's the echoes that get to me, get in me, sometimes it's the silence - tonight it was the thought that pretty well every stone must have been placed individually.
I think I'm going to miss hearing cuss words during lots of the parts of everyday - not that I particularly condone cuss words - it's just that there's something about hearing them that tells you you aren't completely isolated from the world. Maybe I'll start listening to more rap - or perhaps I ought to make friends with more people who say cuss words.
Living with lots of vegetarians hasn't been quite as contagious as I would have thought - I had a hot dog for lunch today (didn't pay for it thought) - but I think I may begin to tread in that direction anyway.
I had a walking pic nic through a trashy park yesterday on the eastern fringes of the city - it wasn't very pretty, but quite pleasant.
Oh, and the way, everyonce in a while, something catches me unprepared to be touched - like the moon did rising out of the clouds last night while I stood atop Calton Hill, or like select salutations from certain letters often do, or like happens when my sister's tone of voice over the phone hints at her well being, or like when I kneel by my bed or stick the upper part of my body out the window to pray and the words come, words that actually mean what I feel and hope and want.
These have been good days.
Also, I'd like to share Chrales with you:
I don't know how old he is, I think he's 57 or maybe 61, but he's really healthy and energetic and young seeming - probably because of the cod liver oil he ingests (however it is one ingests cod liver oil) each morning. I think he likes to smile more than me, more than Santa Claus and Bob Marley even. A smile settles well on his face, settles better in his eyes. He seems possessed - not by a demon, although the gap in his teeth and the way he gets excited and bugs his eyes wide open at you wagging his head with laughter does have him resembling a goblin (a cute goblin, not a scary goblin) - not by an angel either, I'm not sure what he's possessed with, he just strikes me as one possessed.
We went to church together yesterday, had some tea afterwards. At church last night we crossed paths again and afterwards went out for tea. He's got a faith that is humorous - not ridiculous humorous - just unique and easy to smile at. Listening to him talk is overwhelming and fun - he goes real fast and switches gears like my cousin in his suped-up Mustang.
My favorite was talking with him about Jesus - hearing him say odd philisophical things about the energy and providence and omni-presence of God, then say, with his white-South African accent, something as simple and fundamental and perhaps, when it comes down to it, just as whaky, as, "What a savior we have in Jesus!"
Truly Charles. Truly.
He also said something else about being on guard against the wiles of our human nature, which is a whirling vortex of conflicting emotions.
And he bought my tea both times.
He's a good man.
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