Paris: c’est magnifique, c’est fou, yet I still love you.

July 24, 2010 – 1:43 pm
By Dan Snyder | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (2)

7 July 2010. 22:30. Eiffel Tower, Paris.

In retrospect, we should have taken heed of the red flares as they released clouds of amber apprehension into the air. But as twilight encroached on that balmy summer evening, impending peril was the last thing on our minds. The day started out innocently enough. My intrepid partner Sophie and I, Robert Langdon, had just caught our breath after a surprise run-in with the French gendarmes after we tried to burn down the Louvre to see if the charred embers would settle into a treasure map showing where the Knights of the Round Table hid the real James ossuary—no, not James the brother of Jesus, James and the Giant Peach, obviously. Oh shoot, I just blew my cover of using that Dan Brown pseudonym…

Back to the Dan Snyder adventure:

So Tira and I appraised Delacroix and mimicked Michelangelo’s models at the Louvre, gazed at the grandeur of the Parisian skyline from the top of a Ferris wheel, and window shopped the showcases along the Champs Élysées. So far it was your pretty average, mundane day as university students. But, as the evening wore on, our stomachs begged for nourishment and we yearned for sustenance. We then made the fateful decision to turn left and leave the lovely lane of luxury, questing after more thrifty fare. Apparently, our meanderings were not meant to come to fruition. Perhaps the change in the air was provided as a premonition, but we were presently only perceptive towards any potential purveyors of provisions.

After finding no such establishments (in what we later realized was the business district) we stumbled upon the Eiffel Tower. There, a throng of thousands of Parisian youth were passively filing into a motivational talk entitled, “Geriatrics and Geraniums: Rediscovering the Joys of Gardening with Grandma”. Some of the more uncouth jeunes were calling it by its more commonplace soubriquet, “World Cup Semi-Final between Spain and Germany”. So after we all had our interest piqued in getting botanical with Grandma (many in the crowd seemed to read a nationalistic subplot into the speaker’s message and were either really excited for or mad at Spain) nevertheless we all tried to calmly exit the venue amidst controlled explosions of fireworks, limited jubilation, and a hushed murmur that only added to the tranquility of the evening.

It was a good thing that Parisians are renowned for being so orderly and courteous, otherwise Tira and I might have been clutching each other’s hand, dodging unruly gangs of rabble-rousers who may have been inciting senseless violence, and running to safety away from a frenzied mob back to our group on the other side of the Eiffel. But instead I say, kudos to you Paris for making Public Courtesy courses mandatory for all secondary students—worth every euro cent!

All in all, a gloriously unforgettable day, which finished with swing dancing beside the Eiffel. And to paraphrase the Bible: swing dancing covers a multitude of sins. So Paris, your slate is clean, no hard feelings. Well, maybe a few for only getting chips and a muffin for supper…

Lesson learned? Europeans are to the World Cup as Canadians are to the Stanley Cup playoffs; different sports, same crazy fans. Some things really are the same after all!

Dan S.

One Week

July 22, 2010 – 1:43 pm
By Ariel Smith | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Over the last few weeks of our Europe trip I have been feeling the exhaustion catching up to me every day. As difficult as it is, I am trying to suppress that exhaustion in order to make the most out of my remaining eight days with the group.

I have recently been in a state of individual reflection rather than the communal growth that I was focusing on in the beginning stages of the trip.  Alongside personal growth, I have been trying to find my place in the bigger picture of my spirituality and faith.  Stepping in and out of incredibly built cathedrals, historical monuments and ancient ruins, I am overwhelmed with the amazing spiritual and cultural experiences I have been a part of.  I have felt as if I have been involved in something bigger than myself and our small Christian university as I played simple games with a group of refugee children from all over the world in Munich, or as I learnt about the disastrous fire bombing of Dresden while taking part in a Kurt Vonnegut tour.  This trip forces you, in some way or another, to look beyond your own tragedies and woes and take on someone else’s for a day or just an hour.  This is why the communal aspect is constantly reflected in the life of the individual during the SSU Europe trip.  Although there are times to reflect on a personal level, there is always the wider view of community and my place within it.

I don’t believe I will ever be fully accustomed to living in a 40-person group traveling around Europe, but I do believe there is richness in allowing yourself to grow around people who challenge and disturb you on a daily basis.

Ariel S.

Your Rop

July 20, 2010 – 1:44 pm
By Joel S. | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

As someone who uses art as a means for contemplation (and often times, therapy), I would have to allow myself to be quite passive in order to not be affected by the art we’ve seen in Europe.

My favorite movement in art history is probably Impressionism, because of their creative innovations that break away from the rules and structure of art’s establishment. It is interesting to think how new worlds can open up once you bend the rules a little! Should art be given formulaic constraints? The Impressionists saw that art should roam free.

Aside from being inspired by great art and great minds, I am also impacted in other ways through our experiences. I have been shaken, as well. I will never forget walking through the Dachau concentration camp and suddenly feeling no sense of morality, loosing any grasp of good and evil. Nietzsche was right, God is dead and everything is permissible;  my mind went to chaos. I then realized the spiritual element to this.  I realized that I was impacted so much precisely because of the inherent worth that exists in all of human kind, a type of value that is indeed God-given. When you enter a place where people have experienced suffering through extreme oppression, a place where their inherent value has been utterly rejected, you cannot leave without feeling something.

Our journey through Europe ends soon! And I will not leave it an unchanged man.

Joel S.

He Restores My Soul

July 20, 2010 – 6:03 am
By Tira Ingersoll | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

While in Dresden we visited the Frauenkirche, a church which was destroyed during World War II in the Dresden firebombing. The story of this church became intensely personal to me and has been colouring the trip for me.

The Frauenkirche was originally thought to have survived the bombing, however, two days afterward, the dome collapsed thereby reducing the church to stones and dust. It stayed this way until the reunification of Germany in 1990. The church was then reconstructed using the blueprints from the original church as well as sandstone from the same quarry the original sandstone was from. All the rubble was gone through to see what could be reused. Some of the stones were placed back where they had been originally, other stones were used to make up entire sections. The church was consecrated in 2005.

At the beginning of the trip Gregg Finley read to us Psalm 23. He emphasized verse three which reads, “He restores my soul”. In Jeremy Wiebe’s philosophy 300 class last semester we read an article on sexual violence, I don’t remember the author or the title of the article, but there was a particular sentence which stood out to me, I will paraphrase: “When our lives are shattered and lying in pieces we are given the opportunity to pick them up and choose what we want to keep and what we want to throw away”. Is it possible that the restoration of a church such as the Frauenkirche could speak not only of the restoration of  a building but also of individual human souls?

Last semester was very difficult for me, not academically, but personally. I spent most of the semester bitter and angry, broken hearted and lost; my life felt, and to some extent still feels like a pile of rubble. Just as the rubble of the Frauenkirche was gone through, some reused, some thrown away, so am I going through the pieces of my life, choosing what I want to keep and what I want to throw away. And just as the Frauenkirche was restored to its original beauty and brilliance in the Dresden skyline, so is God restoring my soul.

Great Moments

July 19, 2010 – 1:43 pm
By Cara T. | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Today we walked past barbed wire fencing, rubber boots, coveralls, and various other farming equipment strewn all over the ground, in addition to large tractors blocking the road. It was on our day outing to Brussels, as we were making our way to the European Parliamentary building, that we found ourselves in the middle of this agricultural demonstration. This random timing was able to reveal more to me about the atmosphere of Brussels as a “capital” of the European Union then any tour of the Parliament could do (although that was very informative as well). Even though the demonstration was nearing its end, witnessing the chaos and seeings police standing guard at the blockades, I got the sense that this is not an uncommon occurrence. Random opportunities such as this have not been scarce on this trip. So many times we have been blessed with having perfect timing. These include, being in Vienna on the night an enchanting boys choir is singing in St. Stephen’s Cathedral, and arriving at town square in Strasbourg just as traditional French dancers were performing.  There have been so many chances to be a part of great moments, and for this I am so appreciative.

Cara T

Everything is not lost

July 19, 2010 – 5:52 am
By Cara Lehocki | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Our experience visiting Dachau, the first concentration camp in Germany, is difficult to put into words. The first thing I noticed was the immense amount of sadness throughout the camp. Even though many years have passed since it was in use fear and sadness still lingers within its walls. I walked around the camp for hours on what felt like blood and bones. Scattered across the grounds I found barracks, gas showers, and crematoriums, all these places made me question humanity and the evil we are capable of. I don’t understand how people can torture one another in such a way as to dehumanize them, or the hatred that one can feel towards a different religious group or race. All these questions left me feeling quite disturbed. What struck me the most was a video in the museum; it was an interview of a former prisoner who was retelling his experience of living in the concentration camp. Despite the cruelty he faced, and the vile living conditions he was subject to, this boy still found the ability to smile and even laugh. I was amazed at a human being’s ability to endure suffering and then eventually overcome such a horrendous event. Where does that kind of strength come from? These people were striped of everything that made them human, yet some were still able to find restoration. It makes me wonder where we find this kind of strength? Is it hope? Or God? Or both? I don’t know because I don’t think I will ever know what it felt like to be in their position. This idea of restoration seems to be a major theme on this trip. I have seen it quite literally in Rome while watching a Caravaggio piece being restored. I saw it again in Dresden, Germany at the Frauenkirche Church, which was burnt down in the fire bombings of WW2 and then rebuilt using some of the original bricks as a symbol of restoration to the people. The concept of restoration has continually been showing up in the conversations I have had with other students. Through seeing art and architecture restored and hearing other people’s stories of restoration I have realized one can find great strength and even hope in overcoming their own experiences. Nothing can compare to what the Jews endured, but I feel blessed to have seen evidence of restoration in my own life, my friend’s lives, and all over Europe.

something needs to change.

July 19, 2010 – 5:29 am
By Monica Kadatz | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

War.  I do not understand it.  The word itself has so many interpretations, meanings, and emotions attached to it.  Part of me does not want to understand it.  To be able to comprehend something so awful would seem to somehow justify it.  I do not want to justify it.  I don’t want to see justice in war.  All I see is death.  Unjustifiable death.  We visited a cemetery yesterday in Belgium where thousands of soldiers who fought and lost their lives in World War One are buried.  This cemetery holds just a fraction of the millions of bodies from the Great War who are now empty; soul-less.  I kept asking myself for what?  For what did they die for?  Their country? Honour? Glory?  We are told war brings peace, prosperity and justice.  The myths of war.  What are the reasons behind the propaganda?  Money?  Politics?  Power?

War robs lives.  Even the lives that were not physically taken are no longer their own.  They become shells of their former selves that are forever changed.  They are robbed of their memories, their emotions and their relationships.

World War One.  The Great War.  The War to End all Wars.  Apparently not.  We are surrounded by war.

I had a conversation with a woman who lives in Belgium today.  Belgium is a country that still holds physical evidence of the destruction of war within its people, architecture and land.  Something she said about North America stuck out to me.  She was comparing the films from her country to mine and said that the movies that are made in Belgium are “too sweet to be true” and the movies that come from America are mostly focused on action, destruction, and death.  It made me think about the perspective we as North Americans have on war, being a country who has not felt the horrors of it like Europe has.  Would we be so apathetic towards the war in Afghanistan if our cemeteries were overflowing with unmarked soldiers graves?  Something needs to change.

War.  I do not understand it.  I do not pretend to.  What I do understand is the power and importance of life and the need to protect and preserve the value in it.  Some say that in war the end justifies the means.  When will the means no longer be needed?  When will the end be now?  When will the value of life outweigh death?

How are we to respond?

July 19, 2010 – 4:04 am
By Sara C. | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Since our last blog entries, we have visited at least eight different sites directly linked to either of the two world wars. Suffice it to say that war is on the mind.

This topic is not an easy one for me. I often come away from these visits feeling horrified. I find myself desiring to say that war is never the answer, that there must be some other solution.

As I left the memorial site that was once the Dachau Concentration Camp, I came across one last information board with something that perplexed me even further. On it was a photograph taken around the time of the liberation of the camp by American troops. The prisoners, gaunt and bedraggled as they were, had gigantic smiles on their faces as they waved to welcome the soldiers. What if those soldiers had not come? Would someone have been able to come up with an alternative solution? One that did not extinguish millions of lives in order to save millions more? This photo made me wonder if there might not be cases where war is necessary. I still have a hard time thinking that this might be the case though. Regardless, the need for creative responses to group conflict is critical.

I also find myself wondering at what my own personal response should be as a Christian. Throughout history, Christian responses to war have run the gamut from pacifism to war enthusiasm. Is one response more appropriate than another? Should I choose a position and stick to it unswervingly or determine as best I can what the best response would be dependent upon the situation?

I don’t have answers for these questions right now, but I recognize them as good questions to be asking. I’m grateful to be seeing the kinds of sites that bring them up.

Knowledge= A more passionate experience. Experiences can lead to change of perspective

July 18, 2010 – 6:03 pm
By Lois Craswell | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

So if you are following all of the blogs so far you might have noticed many of the students writing about an object such as a church, a piece of art, or an event. They are writing in such a way that you know that they are passionate and that when they came to their place or object that it moved them in a way that knowing its history and meaning could only bring. So that is the first part of my title, knowledge equals a more passionate experience and not just for the person doing the presentation but also for the person listening, because it gives me, personally, a personal understanding of things that I just didn’t know. But the second part of my title is more to do with my presentation. I did my material culture project on the WWI battle of Vimy Ridge in France. We went there and with seeing it and having a guided tour my perspectives really changed. As a high school student i learned about the battle and thought that it was the best thing ever; that in the victory, done mostly by Canadians, the country was unified and that no one else could have done it. Ergo, Canadians are awesome.  But doing the research and hearing it done by another person passionate about the same subject made me realize how we romanticize. We take the allies and turn them into the hero and when we see the numbers of dead on the allied side we are sad and full of pride for the lives lost and then we look at the Germans and all that they did as a super villain. But can anybody tell me why WWI started and if the Germans were any worse than the allies, why we see victories of killing more of the bad guys as a good thing? What I have been learning is that Vimy has been, for me, a battle that has made war look to good. There were things done here that helped to save lives on the Allied side, but thousands of Germans died too. I guess what I’m trying to say is that we need to celebrate the lives lost and not necessary the lives that we took. The victory of Vimy Ridge was a small piece in Canada’s history but not what brought us together. You’re probably thinking, wow this girl is a pacifist and hates supporting war and such, but please don’t read into this too much. For me to write that I am looking at this battle in a new light is a good thing because I no longer only see the good in war, the good done by Canadians, the typical “bad guys” as monsters and I don’t only celebrate the victories instead of the lives lost on both sides.  Instead, my experiences are making me, and hopefully more people, aware of the damaging effects that this war had on the world.

Lois

The Point of War—is there One?

July 18, 2010 – 6:14 am
By Brianna Kocka | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Nine More Sandwiches

July 18, 2010 – 5:43 am
By Julia Roebbelen | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Only nine more sandwiches, and I’ll be back on Canadian soil. This trip has been more than incredible; I have learned so much about myself and about others on this trip, on top of all the academic information that has been thrown at us these past seven weeks.

Lately I have been struggling with the theme of the trip: the community versus the individual, and my previous theme, the sacred versus the secular. Although I have been told not to always try to compare and contrast opposites, these have been the recent things on my mind. I find myself entering a church, a cathedral, a basilica or a chapel, and I immediately feel the presence of God, or the lack thereof. There is either a “thinness” or an absence of thinness of space between myself and God, and it does not have any correlation between the amount of tourists or the amount of historical significance in these places. I will enter a historically important place, with absolutely no one else in the church, and sometimes it will seem very flat, and very without God. Other times, there can be a hundred tourists taking pictures, bumping shoulders with me, but I can strongly feel where God is. What makes a place worshipful, or sacred? It very much has to do with the community surrounding the place. It is not the physical location, but rather the community, that makes a place thin. If a place is not so thin, or not so sacred, it is up to US, the individual, to make it a sacred space, or make it worshipful. It is up to the community to change the significance of a place. Vimy Ridge would just be a hill to a passer by, but there is extreme historical significance there that makes us FEEL the heaviness of war. Flanders Field is just a geographical landscape, but when we think about the tens of thousands that died there – that is what makes it important. Sebastian, an individual before the reformation, could not have published his Ship Of Fools without the help of Gutenberg’s printing press in Strasbourg. That sparked the flame of the reformation in Switzerland. What if the printing press was created somewhere else, such as England? What if Sebastian wrote a book about the positive effects of the Medieval era, and found that secularism was better than encouraging Protestantism? These individuals have shaped our lives, much more than we know.

What do we, as students of St. Stephen’s University, have to do with this transformation of a nation? What if Joel Mason’s publications, or the SSU Prayer Book, ended up in the hands of a very powerful publisher, or on the 6 o’clock news? Could we change the face of North America with our Celtic liturgies, our passion for the preservation of the environment, and our heart and focus on community? Could this become another reformation?

It is up to us to decide. So do we take this challenge? Do we step up, with our crosses and our writings, and create a better world?

These are aspirations almost too zealous for me to actually think about, but it gives me shivers. Discovering where I fit as an individual in a community that is potentially in a very influential position in the 21st century is a huge undertaking. This trip has made me consider these things, pray about these things, and talk about these things, in a way that I never would have expected before coming to Europe with SSU. I hope that this fire doesn’t die away upon my return to Canada, and that we can keep on keeping on, making this world more sacred and more thin with every step we take.

Julia R.

Where’d the Bad Guys Go?

July 18, 2010 – 4:06 am
By Alicia Farnham | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

The past few weeks, the carnage and slaughter and senselessness of the World Wars have been a common theme for our program days.  It began with our stay in Dresden, a cultural mecca of pre-war Germany that was levelled ruthlessly during WWII without precedent, literally disintegrating thousands of civilians in the middle of the night as they huddled in their bomb shelters; it is now a city alive with a sense of restoration and commemoration of the past.  Next was Dachau, the Nazi concentration camp that became the model and training centre for the running of all other camps during Hitler’s dictatorship, where thousands of lives were worked away, and tonnes of innocent blood soaked into the ground that is now a garden.  This past week, we’ve seen the front lines of WWI–Vimy Ridge and Hill 60, and Ypres–where men threw themselves headlong into the work of killing and dying; where men suffered and slogged witlessly in the trenches and tunnels of bloody, muddy, otherwise insignificant kilometres.

A few days ago, we visited a museum focusing specifically on the battles around Ypres in Belgium, called the ‘In Flanders Fields Museum’ in recognition of John McCray’s famous poem.  Here I learned that Belgium had been promised the ability to remain neutral but found itself overrun with the armies of its neighbours, forced to fight or fall, because of its bad luck to be in between the two great enemies, France and Germany.  Poor, unfortunate Belgium!  The entirety of Ypres was reduced to rubble after three battles meant to defend it, and is now surrounded by over a hundred cemetaries, many of the gravestones marking the graves of soldiers “known only to God.”

I think the hardest thing about all of these experiences is having to acknowledge and coming face to face with the conviction that Canada, the “good’ side, also slaughtered and rejoiced over fields of battle strewn with snuffed out lives and spread the myth of the glory of war.  Admitting that there was no “good” side in these horrific events, realizing that all that really mattered were the lives that ended and the lives that only half continued and the lives that were left behind, has definitely been a challenge for such a determined believer in the romanticism and heroism in everyday life as I am.  Why is it so easy to glorify the victory of the Canadians at Vimy Ridge–the troops who didn’t even have their own country yet, idealized with wonderful comraderie and determination–after all, we did what the powerful French and British couldn’t!  Why is it so unpleasant to see the shell ravaged territory, to hear of the Allies, the “good guys”, creating killing fields, deliberately trapping the young, hapless “enemy” into several crossfires at once?  Why is it so easy to make a monster of another people, and not realize that this tactic is one of the most dangerous enabler of that sequel to the Great War that was to end all wars??

The In Flanders Fields Museum brought this home in a new and poignant way with its indiscriminate display of both sides, any nationality involved in the war, from any “side”.  Here’s a few of the quotes they had:

“I caught sight of a German the day before yesterday. He was building fortifications 50 metres away from me. I had to kill him, didn’t I? I took a rifle, quite calmly I took aim, and he fell. And yet I can see the features of that man with perfect clarity.  I think it’s very much like a murder. Horrible!” -Maurice Laurentin

“They came out of their trenches and walked across unarmed, with boxes of cigars and seasonable remarks.  What were our men to do? Shoot? You could not shoot unarmed men.” -Count Gleichen, Christmas 1914

“The night of Christmas Eve, 24.12.14, it was my privilege to play Father Christmas and to carry a Christmas tree to my company commander in the trenches at the very front.  There was a new moon, and the bright starlit sky was lit even more brightly by the tracer bullets from the two front lines.  For me, they were beautiful Christmas illuminations.  Nothing was heard, except machine gun fire from time to time, or a short burst of shots.  Sometimes an infrantryman would shoot to the left or to the right of me, but I knew that the enemy would not use me as a target, despite the light which was as strong as day, because I was Father Christmas, and I was carrying the decorated tree.” -Carl Muhlegg

“All sorts of stories have been circulated regarding the meeting of the enemy and British troops between the trenches.  Luckily the troops holding our immediate line of trenches just waited until the Germans got out of the trenches, then they let them have it, rapid fire; it stopped any of this ’scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’ sort of nonsense.” -Bryden McKinnell

I for one see no accusable monster here. I’m ashamed to have ever believed in “the enemy”.

We are One

July 18, 2010 – 4:01 am
By Angela | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

It’s hard to believe that we’ve been here for almost two months; it’s gone by so fast, but I’m just about ready to go home.

Today we were in Brussels taking a tour of the European Parliament, and something about the motto of this political body struck me.  Their motto is ‘Unity in Diversity’, and already one can see the implications of this.  If you know anything about Europe, you know that it is indeed a place full of diversity; in language, culture, and beliefs. In Belgium alone there are two main language groups. Apparently there is some talk (though I’m not sure how prevalent that talk is) about there being some desire for the language groups to separate and have the French speaking part join France and the Flemish speaking part join the Netherlands. This would mean the end of Belgium as a nation.

As I was thinking about this problem, it kind of reminded me of home, and the relations between Quebec and the rest of Canada.  Quebec has long wanted to separate from Canada, and language is one of the major issues involved.  It also made me think of how diverse our own nation is. Canada is considered a melting-pot of cultures as people from all over the world have come to our shores, for various reasons, and have brought pieces of their homelands with them. With diversity can come some big problems, so one of the questions that keep bouncing around in my head is wondering if and how we in Canada can adopt this idea of ‘unity in diversity.’  What can we do to create a nation where our differences don’t divide us, don’t bring us down, but rather work to build us up to be a strong and healthy participant in world and domestic affairs.

That’s my somewhat random thought for the day :)

Take it easy ya’ll.

Angela Broda

Germany and Onward!

July 18, 2010 – 3:40 am
By Matt C. | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

The trip is nearing its end and as it slowly creeps upon us I anticipate it more and more.  I have thoroughly enjoyed being on this trip but at the same time I await its end with a certain amount of excitement and anxiousness. We are currently in Belgium and have just completed our day trip to Bruges in which many of us enjoyed a tour of a local brewery.  Before arriving in Belgium we traveled from Paris, which was both an expensive and beautiful city. Prior to visiting Northern France we enjoyed staying in Zug Switzerland, which had a lovely lake to swim and cool down in.  Over all of the other countries I think that I was most fond of Germany. It was my favorite because of the people there.  I remember that they were very friendly and helpful whenever I stopped to talk with them.  Part of my positive impression of the German people was formed by our hosts in the castle where we stayed just outside of Dresden.  I also remember having a very friendly taxi driver who I spoke to on our way home from the soccer game we attended in the city of Dresden.

I also appreciated the architecture that we saw in Germany, such as the Glockenspiel and St. Michaels Church.  The Glockenspiel is a great example of German material culture.  It shows the German peoples’ love for art as well as music.  St. Michaels is also a prime example of material culture.  I was especially intrigued by the the statue of the archangel Michael defeating Satan on the facade of the church. During the Reformation it was viewed as St. Michael defeating the Protestants, as the majority of the people in the city at that time were Catholic.  The statue also reminded me of our myth course as it can be viewed as a mythological battle between Michael and Satan as well as the Protestants.  Overall, Munich was a great city for viewing the material culture of the German people.

Matt Caldwell

thoughts from the road

July 17, 2010 – 3:56 am
By Isaac | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

A good beer brewed from the righteous land of Belgium is the best way to end any day. Tomorrow we head across the channel to London; English pubs and fish chips are already calling my name. We have traveled across Europe now and have seen many things.

The other day we visited Vimy Ridge, a WWI memorial site. I looked around it and found the name of a relative on the wall, one that my mother showed me when we were there together 8 years ago. The names that cover this
monument are for the fallen soldiers that were not found. Many of them were volunteers who died without a trace, and all that is left is a name etched into a stone wall. I would have had no idea that I had any form of family on that wall had my parents not shown me.

What would it be like to be a volunteer in a war? To die for a good cause, but to die lost? Are the fallen lost if their name is written on a wall with hundreds and hundreds of other names? Here I sit writing and having a beer. Will my name be written on a wall, will it be remembered?

Regardless, whether my name is etched on a wall on not, I think that it is not how your name is remembered by those who come after you, but how your life is lived. Living well seems to be what is important. Seeing these names, and the names of so many others, on monuments and memorials all over Europe, it is not the name that lives on in stone, but the memory of the life that was lived, that is written in people’s hearts.

Understanding Passion

July 17, 2010 – 3:36 am
By Lois Craswell | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

So you have probably read so far from many other blogs about certain topics like churches or wars that they seem passionate in writing. This is not a bad thing but just a thought in how having knowledge about something really changes the way we experience this trip. I am no different. Churches and art are not things that I know much about and so when I hear presentations done by other students that are passionate about their topics it is inspiring to learn more about that subject. One example is Tira’s post about her presentation on the Frauenkirche in Dresden. Her passion inspired me to learn more about the church. A topic that I am passionate about is the battle for Vimy Ridge that took place during WWI. It is something that I had learnt about in high school and it is a battle that I personally think is  a very important event in Canada’s short history. But being at the site and getting most of my presentation raisins (information) stolen by our tour guide, it gave me time to take another look at the history of Vimy Ridge, and think differently about how much importance we attach to our victories. I think that many times we take our history and romanticize the good and evil to make battles appear like the best thing that could have happened to a country. But what I have been learning a lot on this trip and throughout my studies at SSU is that we need to be constantly looking back at history from different points of view and see if we can learn something new. Being at Vimy Ridge, and looking at  the broader context of WWI made me wonder why the battle needed to be fought. Viewing it through a different lens has lead me to believe that it was necessary.

Lois Craswell

Stories

July 17, 2010 – 3:17 am
By Laura Copping | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)
I have been hearing a lot of stories as of late.  Stories of war, of the bravery of soldiers and the futility of their fight.  Stories from refugees illuminating the reasons behind their flight and the struggles still facing them within the borders where they find their sanctuary.  Stories guide me through Europe.  They give me a context in which to experience a city and they teach me more intimately of the major moments in Europe’s past.
My mind keeps lingering on the stories I’ve heard from Dachau concentration camp.  I went into Dachau expecting to be disgusted and upset with the evidence of man’s cruelty to man, and sure enough I was.  Dachau’s stories speak vividly of the horrors and brutality experienced by many during World War II.  But Dachau surprised me.  From it I heard of many examples of love.  Imagine loving someone else while you are being beaten; while you are starving; while you are being publicly humiliated and emotionally disgraced.  How?  How do you find love in such a mess of cruelty?  Dachau’s stories still speak to me of the utmost evil aspects of the human condition but even more strongly of the hope and love found in its midst.
Laura Copping

Beginnings and Ends

July 17, 2010 – 3:13 am
By Hudson D. | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

It’s funny how initial experience can potentially hold such influence on the entirety of an experience. At the beginning of the trip in Barcelona we enjoyed a lecture from Dr. Susan about Catalonia and its people and their current position as a part of Spain. This context built a unique lens through which to view the city in a different and more meaningful way. Since that initial experience I have been searching in each new location for a context through which I can more fully understand my surroundings. After this local commentary in Barcelona I continued to search for similar things in other places. At first I was disappointed that I was generally unable to find this in other places. Of course I wished that I could have found this, but I have come to realize there is a wealth of different sorts of context if only I can perceive them. While some cities seem only a monument to the past, if it is allowed, this serves as a context of its own and something of this sort exists in every place. Seeing this from the beginning of trip has shaped it all the way through to the end. The beginning and end are formed by the same valuable lesson.

Hudson Doerge

Questions…

July 17, 2010 – 3:06 am
By Genevieve | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

I have never had a huge interest in WWI prior to this trip. I have watched a few war movies in the past, which is probably the extent of much of my learned understanding – it is sad, I know. Both my Grandfather and Papa were in WWI and besides the fact that my Papa flew a fighter jet, I regret that my knowledge on the matter is greatly lacking.

As I walked through Flanders Fields Museum, I became more and more interested in knowing how the war began and the events that took place. The more I learned, the more frustration I felt and the more questions I began to ask. I think now about the catalyst of WWI being over a Duke –  in Austria? I think of the leaders (including within the church) of every country (over 60) that continued to keep the war going, even though the sole purpose became that of attrition. I think of  the soldiers, many who did not even know why they were fighting yet continued under the direction of their country’s leaders – so much trust. So much pain, loss, hurt and irreversible damage done… and it goes on.

How do we remember well?

As I walked through  Trycott Cemetery, I was surrounded by grave after grave –many without names– I felt so far removed. What is in us as a human race that craves the passion for violence? We question when someone says “war is beautiful” yet we, on the outside, are inspired and touched by the stories of love and hope that are cultivated through the times of terror and hopelessness (as we should be), but even still – we were not there.

I have never talked to a war veteran. I do not know how they see their experience and what kind of value (if any) they feel war provides. Canada apparently first became a nation because of the battle at Vimy Ridge during WWI… Was that the only way? Would we have become a nation if the war had not happened? I hope so.

War has been a part of our existence since, always. God even seems to support it according to Old Testament Scriptures. But does He really? I have never considered whether I was a pacifist or not. I just wonder, is there another way for us to be inspired? To find truth? To feel passion? Is there another way to fight for something beyond the giving of countless lives? Is there another way to find true beauty? Is there?

So many questions without real answers.

Genevieve

“In Flanders Fields”

July 13, 2010 – 11:31 am
By Kendall Kadatz | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

The very phrase, “in Flanders fields” brings to my mind every Remembrance Day ceremony that I have ever been to. Since having been in the Flanders region of Belgium, touring Vimy Ridge and seeing a Commonwealth cemetery, the famous 1915 poem by soldier John McCrae has been on my mind. In the past, I have struggled to understand the poem and I didn’t think much about it through elementary, middle and high school. I read it at Vimy the other day for the first time in probably about five years.

While on this trip and particularly in the last few days, I have been struggling to understand the effects of war on entire cities, regions and countries. Walking over the scarred, defaced, and uneven ground of Belgian farmland helped bring reality just a little closer to my experience. I began to wonder how I can honour the lives and sacrifices of soldiers without resorting to the violence of war. What does it mean for a 21st century pacifist to “take up the quarrel with the foe”? And what does the poem mean when it refers to “failing hands”? Perhaps the war itself was the failing part. I think that learning well is a step in the right direction. We can learn that violence is not the way to solve problems; rather, it is merely a way to create more.

I ended my last blog with a challenge and today I will do the same. Contemplate in what peaceful ways you too can take up the quarrel that brave men and women fought—and do fight—everyday.

July 13, 2010 – 6:12 am
By Aaron Rasenberg | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Our history is a linear one – from our parents to us the history of mankind falls into our hands. Thus, understanding our culture, the culture of western civilization, becomes pertinent to us when the torch of civilization is passed down to us. Essentially, the epitome of humanity is the individual, thus the individual, through inter-personal interaction, determines, then defines what it is to be human. Travelling Europe gives to us the opportunity to witness the culture that was once changed, advanced, altered, and contributed to by individuals who had the power of will to assert their creative influence and ultimately, however grand or minute, they have changed the course of history. From the architects that designed the Eifel tower, to the eccentric painter who taught us to perceive the world as impressions, we study them all because it is our responsibility to do so. As equal sharers in humanity it falls to us to either improve what it means to be human, or degrade it. It is my responsibilty.

Aaron R.

Just Paddling

July 12, 2010 – 8:32 pm
By Lucas Walters | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Jumping into a trip like this is an adventure, being able to take a community mobile for two months is a feat. When I started this trip I had many thoughts of how a trip like this one would go and what I would see. My expectations have been met fully, I feel very privileged to be on a trip like this being able to see so many wonderful places, taste amazing food and meet interesting people from many places has been very cool.

Living  life and having adventures is so important, Donald Miller talks about this idea in his newest book the experiences you have enable you to have an adventure live your story and being able to learn from these experiences is very important. I have been thinking about the idea of living my story trying to take on everyday and experience new things. This trip has been that adventure I was very excited leading up to it, now I am living it and experiencing  it  and I am thankful for this privilege.

Walking through the WWI site Vimmy Ridge is a great example of experience as a student of history I have read a great deal about this event. Being able to actually go there and experience the places, see the monument and talk to the people was so important. It helped me to make strong connections about the significance of Canadians and the first World War. Looking toward the end of this two month adventure I look forward to experiencing the city of London and continuing the adventure.

seven..

July 12, 2010 – 5:31 pm
By Margaret Sider | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Everyday a new experience, another epic adventure – is there a point when it all becomes too much? And when is it that point? Do we ever become desensitized to the awe and beauty of what we see everyday?

I was thinking about this in Paris a few days ago at the Orsay and Lourve museum. There is such an overwhelming amount of art, and we would not have enough time to see it all if we tried.  Eventually we find ourselves walking through rooms and rooms of art, or passing by amazing buildings because we have just seen so much already and don’t have time or mental capacity to process or appreciate any more.

In the same way that people talk about how we can become desensitized to violence by watching the news or playing aggressive video games – can this same thing happen to us on a different level with beauty and wonder? If we see tons of beautiful things everyday do they eventually become less beautiful? I don’t know if it actually does work the other way around, but it is interesting to think about how the intense amount we have seen and experienced on this trip affects us closer to the end as we prepare to return.

Will it be easier to find the beauty and art in “regular” life?

mar out.

Brunelleschi's Dome in Florence

Be sensible, death is at our heels!

July 12, 2010 – 4:32 pm
By Alex Henderson | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Being in Europe and learning about the two World Wars and their development has sparked a new thought in my mind. Most of us live fairly swayed by popular points of view all the time. To steal T.H. White’s analogy from The Sword in The Stone, we are like ants in a mindless collective, always led and often in irrational directions. Times impending war are like that. Somehow we all seem to get caught up in the hysterics, the anger, the visions that are spouted by the “wise” leaders and media outlets. It happened in the First World War and it happened in the 2003 American War on Iraq. It may be surprising to find out that just about 70% of Americans favoured going into Iraq in 2003. This invasion happened amidst the anti-terrorist pandemonium created by 9/11.  The  war became hugely unpopular once the supposed weapons of mass destruction were never found (from what I understand, the pre-war evidence for these WMDs in Iraq was largely hypothetical). What happened in the First World War was in a way similar. Essentially, the times were just so that European nations and people just got pumped up for a “glorious” war. As the years passed and millions of Europe’s finest young men fell dead in the mud of the trenches, support for the war waned on all sides.

What it  seems like to me, in times preceding war we don’t think very much. We mostly feel, and not feel in a way that discerns maturely, but we feel all the wrong things. When we hear of a nation or ethnicity fearfully spoken of, or we hear of threats of terrorism, these are times in which to think deeply! Lets not run to violent responses readily. What is the enemy’s (a.k.a. “perpetrators”) point of view? How  can we try to diffuse this situation? Try to discuss the alternatives. Dismiss any haughty politicians.

Heroes

July 12, 2010 – 4:20 pm
By Daniel Thiessen | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)
We now are in Belgium and have recently been visiting some Word War I sites and memorials. First there was Vimy Ridge in France, which is technically a part of Canada, followed by Ypres, Passchendaele, as well as other sites in  Belgium. I was expecting to be mournful over the soldiers that died, or maybe to feel some nationalistic pride for Canadian achievements in the war, but instead I felt mostly anger.
This angry reaction was not to the war itself, but to the way that the memorials and tour guides portrayed the war. One of our courses on this trip is based around myth and the idea of a hero, a theme that I could sense greatly at these sites.  In my opinion, the mythical hero is what allows war to continue; this myth makes young men and women think that if they go to war that maybe they too will become heroes. This myth masks the reality of a soldier’s role which is ugly and largely full of futility. These dead soldiers are praised and idealized, but should they be?
Dan T.

A Recently Repeating History

July 12, 2010 – 3:49 pm
By Katelyn Avery | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

There is a week or so left in the trip. We’ve been in Barcelona, Rome, Zurich, and Paris. We’ve seen everything from art, to architecture,  to cathedrals, and made relevant connections between all of them. Still, this part of history that we’re seeing now is both old and new,  and strangely so. A week or so is a short amount of time but when I’m in a WWI museum, the time seems like an eternity. It grows longer when we visit the battlefields, when trees almost a hundred years old fail to hide the ugly, grass-graced craters. This is a part of our heritage that I haven’t recently thought of as rssecent. You never get the full picture from your high school history teacher, all you see are just snapshots.

But there is a strange, wholly Canadian pride that you feel while standing on Vimy Ridge (even if we admit that the French and Brits softened the place up a bit first). Canadians planned it, Canadians executed it, Canadians took it and paid the price without flinching. And I happen to be Canadian.

At the same time, this ridge, these museums and the monuments are hammering home the reality and the rawness of this war. It really wasn’t that long ago that humans declared the Great War to be the final war and that it could not happen again.

The reality is that the war did happen, and I guess I’m left wondering if something so unthinkable will come knocking on my door or the door of my children when the scars fade enough to resemble an untouchable memory of the past, like Rome or Greece.

So that leaves me – what can I do to keep it from ever happening again? It doesn’t have to be big. I just have to do whatever I’m capable of with all my heart so that someone like H.G. Wells doesn’t have to say “Every intelligent person in the world knew that disaster was impending and knew no way to avoid it.”

Katie Avery

The Privilege of Travel

July 4, 2010 – 3:44 pm
By Sara C. | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

To be honest, I was skeptical that a travel semester like this could be justified.  Travel is a privilege that relatively few people have access to, despite how it may seem to so many of us living in the Western world.  I wondered of its necessity.

Though I still could not argue for its necessity, I am much more willing to acknowledge it as an unparalleled way to learn.  (At least according to my experience.)

Whether studying Western history, literature, philosophy or biblical studies, it is impossible to avoid learning about Europe.  Much of it has strong roots here.  Already within the first two and a half weeks of the trip, I have seen things here that have brought to life various teachings from every single one of the classes I’ve taken in the past few years.

So far, I have listened as Catalonians have described their desire for autonomy.  I have seen Classical, Renaissance, and Baroque art and actually gained an appreciation for them.  I have noticed that I have been reading my Bible through a newly broadened lens in recent days.  I have had the opportunity to grapple with some of the difficult problems facing all/certain Europeans today.  I have been compelled to ask challenging spiritual questions after visiting Assisi, the birthplace of Saint Francis.  I have also gotten a better understanding of the power of language.

What a privilege this travel semester is proving to be, what a privilege.

-Sarah Coulombe

Globe Trotters

July 2, 2010 – 6:06 pm
By Monica Kadatz | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

We are on the third week of our trip across Europe and my emotions are draining, along with my shampoo, toothpaste and other necessities, and I find myself in need of a midpoint trip pick me up.  As we wind through the green landscape of Northern Italy moving towards the next stop on our journey I have found my inspiration!

I watch as the ghost like mist swifts slowly across the green mountain tops, that stretch towards the white clouded sky, and I am suddenly and gratefully reminded of why I am here.  I am reminded why I love to travel.  Why the final destination of traveling is not the full experience, but the path you take to get there is included in the journey.  I tell myself to soak in the beauty that glides past me with every mile and acknowledge my environment.  Traveling to me, reflects much of how life works.  There is anticipation, preparation, and movement; continual movement.  There is seeing, embracing, and accepting and then the realization of having to say goodbye once again.  These patterns are the patterns of my life, and they are heightened and magnified while I travel.  I love this.  It allows me to focus, analyze and truly experience my surroundings fully with every new flavour, touch and smell.  The world is a big, beautiful playground, and as I drive on a bus filled with 30 other eager globe trotters I feel extremely blessed and bewildered at my opportunity to slide through its abundance of cultures, swing amongst its wonders and run, as I do now, between its glorious mountains towards the borders that hold our next destination.

The Deepness of Art and Architecture

July 1, 2010 – 3:04 pm
By Matt C. | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Thus far the trip has been amazing. We have visited Spain, Southern France and Italy.  As I sit here thinking of what to write the most dominant thought in my mind is how much I enjoy the architecture that we have been seeing.  Such sites as the Sagrada Familia, St. Peter’s Basilica, the Duomo in Florence and the walled city of Carcassonne have truly amazed me.  I was particular intrigued with Carcassonne and St. Peter’s Basilica.  It’s hard to explain what in particular attracted me to Carcassonne, but I believe that it was the medieval feeling one receives when walking through the city. One could almost imagine himself as a merchant arriving in Carcassonne and bustling around the city exploring the walled city’s culture.

St. Peter’s Basilica was the most impressive site that we have visited in my opinion; I especially loved Michelangelo’s Pieta that is housed there.  One thing that intrigued me while viewing the Pieta was the fact that Mary was so sad even though she knew the destiny of her son.  I then drew a connection between Mary’s sorrow and that of a parent with a dying child.  Although a parent, in this day and age, may be told how much time their sick child may have left to live it does not make their death any less tragic.  In fact it makes it harder for a parent to know of their child’s inevitable death and knowing there is nothing they can do to change the outcome.  I believe that it is so difficult for a parent to lose a child because in most cases the parent will die before his or her children.  Though these experiences and losses tear people down it is possible to grow and learn from such situations. Persisting through adversity will hopefully build an individual’s faith and establish a closer relationship with God.   Overall, it was interesting having such feelings come to the surface from these pieces of art and architecture.

Matt Caldwell

A Simple Beauty

July 1, 2010 – 3:03 pm
By Hudson D. | Posted in Europe 2010 Comments (0)

Here I am today in Venice, there I was yesterday in Ravenna at a Byzantine church from the 6th century. We’ve been moving now for three weeks and we have five more weeks of moving ahead of us. Moving, moving, moving, it’s such a large part of what we’ve been doing on this trip. You have to force yourself to calm down and contemplate even in the midst of constant motion. It’s challenging at times to have an epiphany in a thirty minute window. While this is very difficult to do at times, there is also beauty in moving from one thing to another. If it were up to me, I very well may have stayed in Barcelona for weeks or even months, but forcing me to move so quickly forces me to engage my surroundings critically and quickly. On our recent trip to Assisi we only had a couple hours to see as much of the city as we could in the time allotted. We started on the west side at the basilica of St. Francis and one of the main things I was wanting to see was the original cross of San Demiano which was at the basilica of St. Claire on the east side of town. The basilica didn’t open until two, which was also the time we were supposed to be back at the bus. Rather than sacrificing this chance to see this artifact of St. Francis’s life I decided to take the risk and catch a glimpse. I waited outside the church till two, dashed into the chapel that houses the cross, knelt before it, said a brief prayer, ran back to the bus. Even though this encounter was brief, it left a sense of simple beauty on the experience. All I remember of that church was gazing up at the cross for just a moment and that’s all I will remember and that’s all I really want to remember.

Hudson Doerge