Merry Christmas

It's around Xmas, and I am in a bedroom, with all the windows open, and I'm sweating!
That's because we went to see my in-laws in Jamaica. Not that Bermuda is not nice in the winter, just a little damp. But the temperatures in Jamaica are far FAR better... I mean 30C!
And SUNSHINE that makes you feel like summer.

Besides the obvious temperature advantages, there's the food. Because in Bermuda there is virtually no agriculture, except golf--those flags in the wholes are not really crops, so really this doesn't even count. And so everything is coming over to Bermuda in a container.
Not so in Jamaica. Although global trade etc. have messed up some of Jamaica's supply lines (importing cheaper milk powder from the US, instead of milking Jamaican cows, e.g.) you cannot beat a fresh breadfruit, or a coconut from the tree in the backyard, expertly chopped so you can drink the water!!!!!

And then there is the driving experience. In Bermuda it's 35 kmh. In JA, well....
It's quite fun driving a car here. It's all a bit more spontaneous than in BDA, Germany, or the UK (exc. maybe London) :-) just gotta look out for the potholes!

So Merry Christmas, a blessed New Year, from sunny Jamaica.

The Empire Strikes Back

The rebel forces had made steady inroads lately, surprising Queen B of Nowshera. And eventually the empire struck back. The rebels may have superior numbers, are well organised, and extremely persistent, but they were no match to the liquid power and destruction of The Terminator. And since ants and cockroaches have no jedi religion and are devoid of midi-chlorians, there won't be a sequel. Eventually, of course they will return, just not as jedi.

Today the guy from Pied Piper (in Anlehnung an den Rattenfänger von Hameln, ein gängiger Name im Angelsächischen von Firmen der Kammerjäger) came by and sprayed the house. Our house is called "Nowshera" and my wife, Barbara, had been fed up with ants and roaches sharing her living space. Yes we know we live on a subtropical island, where humans are outnumbered by ants by about a trillion to one, but, according to her, that does not mean I have to live WITH them. Chemistry was a potent factor in redressing that numerical imbalance. And I suspect we'll be ant-free for a while. (to be continued)

The storm that never came

Just following up on the last entry.
The session came and went, yet without storm. All went pretty smoothly. And the general atmosphere remained spiritual. So overall it was actually an encouraging meeting.

the calm before the storm?

There's been an uncomfortable density of rat-related blog entries.
Of course, our lives have not only been filled with rodent trivia. I actually went to England for 6 days at the beginning of the month. And it was quite an experience. A psychological sandbox--my mind, not England. Very interesting to check one's emotions on such a trip. In the end, I met a lot of people, a good number of friends and family, and I didn't spend a lot of £££ which is good, because I'm paid in $$$ which are not worth as much as they used to be.
And I'm also glad to be back in Bermuda. This is where we live now. For how long? God knows. (literally)
Besides seeing friends, and spending a few pounds, I also briefly attended a church convention/synode/conference session. This will be (hopefully) the only time that I attend two of these things within the same month.
Tomorrow, I'll be attending (as a "delegate at large") the 8th Triennial Constituency Meeting of the Bermuda Conference of Seventh-day Adventists. If my life will be richer for having done so, we'll know in 24 hours...
For now, time to rest. It could be a long day tomorrow.

Rats! -- epilogue

It was the smell that should have told me that something was wrong.
And yesterday, I finally took the courage to check, well actually to confirm what was the source of the odour in our garage.
Behind the old bed that had been in there from before we arrived I saw what can only be described as a fur ball, with a dry bony tail.
Yes, one of the rats (see earlier entry) had found refuge here, and somehow got stuck or whatever. In the end it had died, and now it was really stuck. No really, when I finally entered the garage (again) in a full bio-hazard suit and I tried to scoop the remains up, it was actually stuck to the wall. Yes, very disgusting indeed!

Sermons online

Some of the sermons preached at our church (and elsewhere) are now available online here.

Rats!

Rats!
No I didn't go to see Ratatouille. Going to the movies in Bermuda while being a pastor, that's another blog altogether. Maybe with a false beard and sunglasses :-)

I mean rats. The rodent that tends to live closer to humans than they (the humans) like.
Today is a sunny day (bear with me, I'm going somewhere with this--and it's not the obvious schadenfreude spiel of "I'm in a sunny country and you're not, na na nanana"). And I decided to cut my hair (well, grade 000 cut with the clippers). Sun and scalp don't go together, at least in my case--as I found out the other day, followed by days of peeling, on my scalp. Man, I would've made a good example for a head&shoulders ad.
So I decided I need a hat for today. And I remembered having some baseball caps, from some yesteryear. I'm sure they made the move over from England last year. Hadn't seen them since though. So where are they? Having checked the usual suspects in the house, I thought, maybe the garage (really it's a glorified shed that can hold a bike, or a toy car). There is that big box in there that may contain some long lost items.

So I went in. A big brown spider scuttled for some cover of darkness as I opened the door. Warnings of things to come... (yes, let that creepy feeling build, and let those goosebumps build)
That big box, about 5ft tall stood near the door. It was open at the top, and an old beach mat, rolled up, stuck out the top. I decided to poke with it, you know, to warn the spiders. Instead of spiders running for covers, I heard an old familiar rustling sound. Suddenly, I saw it. It looked at me for a split second. Then it jumped out of the box.
And with a very unpastoral **&% me I was the one diving for cover. For a moment I felt like Neo in Matrix 1 when he sees that the probe that just got sucked out of his guts was real.
So I kicked the box. Bloody hell, there were 3 MORE rats coming out over the next few minutes of kicking, poking, and running. (I just hope my wife doesn't read this LOL)
When I was sure all the rats had vacated the premises, I dragged the box into the open and kicked it again. And there was one last sucker jumping out and running for cover in the bushes. You mean to say that I had five of them squatting in my shed?
I kicked the box over lifted it up, and emptied it out. [bleep], at what I saw.

Rewind a few months--this is the part in the movie when we go back in time. It's winter and I'm looking for my beloved Barbour jacket. My faithful companion that I had bought as a bachelor, on a trip to Scotland with my brother. I couldn't find it. I reasoned that I must have left it in England....
And there it was. At the bottom of the pile. Covered in mildew, rat's liquids, and eaten up. Gnawed by their eager teeth to create a cosy little nest.

I am sitting on the ferry now, on my way to town, a more relaxing way than taking the bus. I can actually take out the laptop and type this. And I'm grieving over the loss of my jacket (ok, no cheesy music, or Teletubby hugs). I liked it. (Addition: it's night time now, by the time I can post it on the net. The jacket is still outside. For some insane reason I hope that the rat smell will dissipate, and that the big holes will somehow shrink over night, and that I can then send if off to the customer service--Barbour is famous for good customer service...)

Recently I heard a very good sermon (see our church website and click on "Sermons" look for Camp Meeting, Henry Wright Friday). We are too much in love with our stuff.
Time to let go, and realise that we don't actually own it, just looking after it on behalf of the Owner.
Hope the rats liked my jacket. But they had to let go of it too, this morning ;-)

RIP Selwyn Bennett

It was sad news in the email earlier today. Our condolences go out to Aunty Rene and the rest of the family, as well as the Gloucester Seventh-day Adventist church family.
It is a sad loss, as Selwyn was such a lovely person. He bore his illness with patience, and did not let it rob him of a joyful attitude. The only glimmer of comfort comes from the "blessed hope" we have in Jesus, who, at His second coming, will wake up all those who died trusting in Him.

Home Sweet Home

So I went to the website of the British Union (BUC) of Seventh-day Adventists. And I checked the gallery (click here). And I looked at photos from the camp meeting last week. And suddenly I felt a certain sadness. Something along the lines of, I should have been there. Or, these are my friends and colleagues. Plus, but I'm no longer part of that world... I believe they call it homesick.

But this could lead to the question, where is home? Hildesheim, in Germany (my birth place), Darmstadt, also in Germany (high school, national service, and a bit of university), London (university, friends, church), Gloucester (more friends, work), Bermuda? Where is home?
Recently I came across this thought, that home to a pastor is two-fold: heaven, and the place where one works.
So I'm at home at the moment--well, one of them anyway. And yet, there's a strange tugging on the strings of memory, a faint call to return to what once was.
And if I were to return to the UK, I'd probably long to be back in Bermuda--oh wretched human psyche.

What then, if any, is the conclusion of the matter? It's morning, and I haven't had breakfast? (solution: eat and get on with it). Probably that.
This "homesickness" may just be a feeling of having belonged to a group of friends and colleagues, and being part of a network of people, and deciding to step out of that circle. Unfortunately, separation is part of moving. Some things, and someone always get left behind. My mum, years ago, gave me a German poem which ends with the line, mein Herz nimm Abschied und gesunde (something like: my heart say goodbye and get well). I suppose the getting well process is bitter-sweet, like childhood medicine.

An den deutschen Leser

Hallo Deutschland.
Einen kurzen Gruss in Deutsch. Es ist allerdings nicht mehr so einfach, und fliesst auch nicht mehr so recht aus den Fingern. Daher "kurz".
Wir sind jetzt seit fast 10 Monaten hier (am 16. sind es genau 10 Monate). Wir haben unseren ersten Winter überstanden, haben uns langsam ans Klima gewöhnt (obwohl, wegen der hohen Luftfeuchtigkeit bildet sich leicht Schimmel an länger nicht benutzten Kleidungsstücken--und da gewöhnt man sich nicht so schnell dran), kommen auch ohne Auto ganz gut über die Runden, und ab und zu geniessen wir auch die Umgebung. Daran sollte man sich nie gewöhnen. Es ist einfach zu schön. Und doch, der Alltag stumpft die Schönheit ab, und man muss sich dann ganz bewusst das Meer, die Strände, und die Landschaft anschauen. Was nett ist, sind die Baumfrösche. Sind ganz klein (ein paar cm), "flöten" aber ganz schön laut.
Und die Leute? Alle freundlich, mit den normalen Ausnahmen. Aber das ganze hat doch einen recht dörflichen Charakter. Die "Stadt" St George hat nur ein paar tausend Einwohner, und Bermuda insgesamt ist mit 68000 Einwohnern kleiner als meine Geburtsstadt, Hildesheim.

PS: Das Foto wurde am 24. Mai aufgenommen, Bermuda Feiertag mit Strassenparade. Ich bin rumgelaufen, weil mir das Warten--und sitzen auf dem blossen Bürgersteig zu langweilig war.
PPS: HM in dem letzten Artikel bezieht sich auf Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth. Deren Geburtstag wurde hier am Montag gefeiert, als offizieller Feiertag, wie jedes Jahr.

HM's birthday

Today -- Monday -- while the general population of the UK (and the rest of planet earth) is facing another day at the office, Bermuda is celebrating the Queen's birthday. It's an official holiday. And unlike the recent bank holiday in Old Blighty, here it's been gorgeous. Yes it rained yesterday and it was overcast, but today, in time for the holiday, blue sky, sunshine, and free time...
So, I thought--in my ignorance--what does one do on the Royal birthday? Well, we could have gone to town and watch the parade and all that. In the end we had 8 girls staying with us overnight for our daughters birthday sleep-over. I don't know why they call it a sleep over as the 9 cute little angels would not go to sleep until way past midnight (WAY past, reminding me of my youthful days in my 20's, and these girls were almost half that age).
I'm digressing. So we didn't go to see the gun salute and the pagentry of the official birthday thingymajix.
But we got to see the boat race. Small sailing boats racing from one end of the island to the other. St George was the finishing line this year. So I sat with all the natives and watched the boats turn into the Cut (narrow channel into St George's harbour). There were definitely more yachts and motorboats accompanying the sailors, and it was fun to see that a lot of the people on shore knew a lot of the people in the boats (duh... it's Bermuda. Everybody knows everyone here.)
People had brought out their canopies and tents, coolers and chairs, and just sat and watched the world go by. Cool.
Note for next year: get a tent, chair, and cooler. Or, better, get on a boat and go along with the race.
The house is quiet. Barbara's at the beach with a friend from church. The kids are with various other friends and their kids. And I'm taking refuge from the sun in the bedroom, windows open, a nice breeze in the house---what a life :-)

PS: Happy 25th Anniversary to the South England Conference Camp Meeting in Prestatyn. Hope the weather is good ;-)

Dame Lois Browne-Evans

Today I attended my first state funeral.
Dame Lois Browne-Evans was a remarkable woman. She died on May 29, just 3 days before her 80th birthday. Google her name, check wikipedia, or even click on the link in the sidebar to Bermuda's daily newspaper, and you find her many achievements.
And today was her funeral.

And I got so much closer to the event than I had hoped. It started with me heading into town (Hamilton) to view the body. Dame Lois lay in state in the city hall, complete with 4 guards at each corner.
From there I made my way to the place where the procession would start to the cathedral. I had no plans, but I found myself marching with the dignitaries behind the casket to the cathedral, thanks to meeting up with the right people. I got into the cathedral and sat right next to the main altar at the front. Then I walked with the crowd to the cemetary. Followed a good friend and church volunteer to the grave, and ended up right next to it.
It was Bermuda pure... the closeness of it all. I was literally surrounded at one time by the MPs and the government of the island. The premier was just a few yards away.
And then from the grave we went to the "wake"... a social gathering, with food and music. Again, the community was out in force.
The only question I had was, where are my colleagues? Shouldn't we be where the people are, and today they were at THE funeral. It was another taster of "what would Jesus do".

Alles neu macht der Mai

or so goes an old German song I remember from my childhood. "May makes everything new", meaning, in May, with spring, there's a regeneration. The winter is finally over, the temperatures rise, nature has woken up, and everything is... well, new.
That may be true for nature, but in a lot of ways it's still the same old same old.
My bills have not stopped coming, and there's no miraculous multiplication of funds in our accounts, either side of the Atlantic.

But there are, what church folk call, 'small mercies'.
A church member brings by some fresh fish.
Some other church member helps us with some money.
An opportunity for me to help someone else who's living in an abandoned building.
A chance for us to support a mother of four, with the youngest only days old.
Small mercies.

And then there are the bigger ones.
Supporting the funeral of another denomination in our building, and seeing that they too find help, grace, and hope in Jesus.
Watching an evangelist--we have one in town these days--make an appeal, and seeing fourty people deciding that Jesus' paradigm makes more sense than any other.

So I suppose May may make things new, some anyway.
For everything else, and that which matters, there's my boss--the Lord.

(and May's bus pass is blue, kind of light blue-ish. BTW, I saw June's pass already. It's going to be yellow! I don't think there's a song: Alles neu macht der Juni......)

Easter in the East

Happy Easter
Actually, I'm almost too late for that. It's Sunday evening, and Easter is almost over.
That means it's the beginning of April. Time is still flying.
We're on Summertime. It's officially Spring. And the kids are on weeklong Easter holidays (vacation). And what else is new?

It seems that the temperature in England is similar to Bermuda, at least on paper...
The children's school had two sport's days. One for the elementary school, and one for the high school. Which means that I had to run in the parents' races twice, and my muscles have been telling the tale for the last couple of days.
The weather was sunny with a cool breeze. Quite deceptive, as I almost got sunburnt :-) Well I don't complain about the tan.

It's custom in Bermuda on Good Friday to fly kites. It rained a lot, but in between we tried...and then tried to get them out of the trees anyway.
Another custom is eating hotcross buns with fish cakes, with a bit of mayo and relish. And the church members made sure we had plenty of it.

Today some "gombey" dancers came passing by the house (google it for a definition). And a good number of the neighbours came out to watch them. Felt a bit like community... It reminds me that we live in what would be called a small village back in England. And at this point in time I don't mind living in such a place. It's quiet (too quiet some say), it feels somehow cozy. Although, every night the BA flight back to London reminds me that there're bigger places.

And finally, of course, the bus pass in April is purple.

Greetings from Dallas TX

Texas, where everything is bigger...
We arrived here on Tuesday evening for a youth prayer conference: Just Claim It 2007. Yesterday (Saturday) an estimated 12,000 visitors attended, most of them young people--i.e. not my age ;-)
And it was good to see some representation from the UK, Robert Hines from the SEC and some fellow Brits had come over.

The conference was quite an experience.
But all good things must come to an end, and now I'm in the hotel lobby--free wireless internet (in the room it's $10/day)--counting hours. We're meeting to leave at 4am (!). We is 50 Bermudians... and the flight leaves at 6am.
Yesterday as I walked in the crowd at the conference, I thought about home in Bermuda. In less than 48 hours I'd be walking again, with the same computer bag (still got the black leather bag from the church members in Gloucester), only this time it would be by myself again, down the Cut toward our house... a quiet walk down a village lane--what a contrast. Both scenarios have their good sides and not so good sides.

The brain is working slower now, it's past midnight in Dallas. In the UK many people are up already (it's just gone past 6am).
So let me leave with a howdy, and whatever else is said in this area.

Before I left Bermuda I bought my wife a bus pass. It's lime green in March... :-)

APOLOGIES

I must apologise for leaving it so long.
It's been almost two months since the last post. That's pathetic...
And also somewhat worrying if you don't like to read a lot, because so much has happened in the last two months, I don't know where to start let alone when to stop.... ---gotcha.

Nothing much has happened actually. OK, the mac was down till yesterday. Finally I brought it back to the computer company that handles Apple warranty claims, and they changed the hard drive quickly and courteously. I had tried--dreaming against the odds, maybe bargaining while being in denial; oh classical grieving stages--I had tried to get my data off. And a friend had fanned my hopes into tender flames. I left the drive with him, and called him later to find out if he'd managed to access the data. He said, yes, he'd seen the drive and the contents on his computer screen, and as we talked he suddenly exclaimed (oh the drama), where is it gone? It's gone, I can't see the drive anylonger... tender flames, easily extenguished.

So then my friends from England (and elsewhere). I have lost ALL of my data from the last 16 months, including all the email correspondence. My address book which was full of contacts has also perished. And you thought I had forgotten you?!
Please send me a quick email. Just a brief hello, so I can add you to my new address book.

It feels like spring in more than a seasonal or climatic sense. I had to start again. Downloading programs and utilities (legally!). Wishing I was back in England for some software "sessions" (somewhat legal, sort of, in a very lose way). It's spring, a new beginning--if not yet on the calendar then at least on my laptop.

And Bermuda? Well, it's been very windy. And it's cold--not as cold as England, sure. But then in England we had central heating...
Here it's 15C outside, and 16C inside. And sometimes it's the otherway round.

The January bus pass was golden. February's is less easily defined: some kind of brownish peach, or is that orangish brown...