The Vatican

When we arrived in Rome, we spent our first evening exploring the tiny cobblestone streets, obtaining delicious pizza and gelato, and enjoying the fabulous old buildings that brought new surprises around every corner.

Our first morning, we got up early to go on a tour of the Sistine chapel in the Vatican museums before the museums were generally open to the public. This also let us skip the hours-long wait to get into the museum. It was incredible to walk through the gallery of maps, the longest gallery in the museum:

The Sistine chapel was just as amazing as you would expect. We spent over half an hour with our heads back, looking at Michelangelo's stunning colours and forms. The frescos seems to jump out of the ceiling. We were surprised too to learn that Michelangelo was the first to portray God as an older man with a beard - an image that has certainly stuck in our culture. 

After the tour of the Sistine chapel was over, Jer and I first made our way to Raphael's rooms. It was surreal to see such a famous and thoroughly analyzed piece in person. 

In the centre of Raphael's School of Athens walks Plato (painted with the face of Leonardo da Vinci) and Aristotle.

On the side, Euclid is teaching his students.

We spent the whole morning exploring the Vatican museums. There far were more spectacular and famous works than we could possibly count. We were very fortunate to learn that there is a special door in the back of the Sistine chapel which leads directly to San Pietro, allowing us to avoid waiting in a very long line under the hot sun in the main piazza. In 7 foot high letters all around the church are written all of Jesus' words to Peter in the Bible.

The lettering around Michelangelo's lovely dome is Jesus' declaration that Peter is the rock on whom Jesus will build His church. We learned that Michelangelo didn't accept any pay for his work on this beautiful dome.

The small statue of Peter felt almost insignificant in the context of the exceptionally grand basilica. His foot was indeed worn away by the millions of people who have touched it.

We spent the afternoon wandering around the old town again, finding more fabulous things before our feet could not walk any further. The Pantheon was lovely in its simplicity. Trevi's fountain was packed with people, but we rewarded ourselves for braving the crowds with delicious gelato!

Cologne

The train to Cologne was exceptionally fast, smooth, and easy to navigate. Once in Cologne, we bumped into a couple of Jeremy's conference friends on our way to the hotel and grabbed lunch near the cathedral. Jer had a meeting, so I explored the Cologne Cathedral.

Stepping inside the cathedral is an incredible experience. Arches crest above arches, and brilliant stained glass windows draw your eye to the ceiling far above. Both the outside and inside are filled with statues of biblical characters and bishops.

The cathedral is without a doubt an amazing work of art. It is hard not to wonder, however, if it exists with the intention to honour God or the people who built it. The tower was built 157m tall, specifically one foot taller than what was at the time the tallest cathedral in the world. In 1880, this made the cathedral the tallest building in the world. Today, the cathedral maintenance budget is over 6 million euros per year, 1 million of which is funded by a lottery. The church provides both incredible artistic beauty and inspiration to prayer for the approximately 20 000 people who visit every day. But do these ends justify the financial means of effectively taxing the poor with a lottery? 

In the evening, I explored the waterfront while Jer's conference started. In both Frankfurt and Cologne, I loved how many people were sitting by the waterfront simply spending time with family or friends. Given the recent shooting in Munich, it was encouraging to see how many people were not giving into fear and enjoying the public space. 

Over the next two days of the conference, I explored Cologne with Laura, the wife of Jer's supervisor. We rented bikes and cycled along the Rhine in the morning. After grabbing a quick lunch, we decided to climb the 533 steps to the top of the cathedral tower. We stood in the belfry while the bells called people to mass - the sound was beautiful and overwhelming. The view at the top was amazing.

After our long climb, Laura and I decided that it was time for the Chocolate museum! The museum was highly effective; by the time we exited, we were quite inclined to buy a delicious chocolate cake at their cafe...

On our second day, it was raining, so we spent the day in the Wallraf-Richartz museum. While a relatively small art gallery, it was once of the best curated art galleries that I have seen. There were beautiful pieces by Rembrandt, Renoir, Munch, and many others, all with excellent descriptions and historical background.

In the afternoon, I attended Jer's talk (which was definitely the best talk in my opinion). He made them laugh with puns, and he didn't make them cry with math. And everyone appreciated his comfortable approach. I was also able to join Jeremy for dinner at a restaurant near the hotel. With around 70 people at the conference, the restaurant was packed. The waiter was rather distressed that the group was so noisy, and we all got more practice saying "entschuldigen" (sorry!). 

Today, we have said goodbye to all of the good friends that we met or reconnected with at the conference. We will be flying to Rome tomorrow!

Frankfurt

We landed in Frankfurt just before lunch and followed the advise of a number of efficient fast-speaking communicators to figure out the subway.  It was a sweltering walk to the hotel, but along the way, we passed a memorial to the Jews deported from Frankfurt. We found Anne Frank's name in the middle of the long long rows of names. 

After stopping at our hotel, we did a little bit of exploring Frankfurt in the evening. There's a beautiful walkway that follows the river with soccer courts and outdoor free fitness locations.  We stopped at a fun restaurant for a refreshing strawberry-rhubard juice with a sprig of mint (delicious!) and dinner.  Jer ordered a full meal of course, but I thought I'd have a lighter option: "rucola brot salat" meaning "arugula bread salad". I assumed it would be an arugula salad with a bit of bread on the side, but it was in fact a salad made of bread with four or five leaves of arugula. So much for a healthy alternative. The "salad" was delicious however, and we explored a beautiful square downtown called Römerberg after dinner. 


On our second day in Frankfurt, we started at the grocery store where we discovered that cheese and croissants are both affordable and fabulous. We explored the Oper - a beautiful old opera house, and followed a park to find a lovely Chinese garden. Then, we returned downtown to visit the Frankfurt Cathedral and Römerberg square in the daylight. 

We walked back to our hotel on the opposite side of the river, and happened upon the Dreikönigskirche, a Lutheran church dedicated to the Three Kings. The church has lovely whimsical stained glass windows that take a modern approach to traditional themes. While we were exploring the church, an incredible organist came in and started to practice for what we think was an upcoming Bach concert. The music filled the space powerfully. 

Who has a learning disability?

As I write report card comments, upload final grades, and tick the IEP (Individual Education Plan) box on the report card for approximately 10-13% of my students, I noticed something that bothers me.

There are exceptionally bright students from wealthy families, and there are exceptionally bright students from poor families. There are average problem-solvers with iphones, and there are average math students who struggle to afford a calculator. But when I look at the group of students in my classes who are struggling to pass my course, there is an uncomfortable gap.

My struggling students from poor families come to my class with the sometimes unspoken, but painfully clear label: "dumb". They are often unconsciously dismissed, with the not-thought-through assumption that they are just not cut out for math.

On the other hand, my struggling students from wealthy families often come to my class with the label: "learning disability", and they receive the appropriate accommodations, modifications, targeted instructional strategies, preferential seating, photocopied notes, and extra after-school tutoring that will enable them to work with their disability and succeed.

Timely testing for learning disabilities appears to be hard to obtain without paying out of pocket. Wealthy families have the means to make this happen and get their children the support they need, but what about poor families?  How many of my students are mislabelled as "dumb"?

On Being Engaged

A friend of mine recently wrote a great piece about the experience of getting married, which inspired this post about being engaged. Mostly written for myself because I know I'll forget this unique transitional part of our lives in, probably, four minutes. But I figured while I was at it, I'd share it with you too.

On Being Engaged

It started in the quietest and comfortablest way. We were just chatting during a little break from our bike ride, and then suddenly there was this question and this ring in a Droste box. It is the loveliest feeling - not butterflies or even excitement - just a real joy of the soul. A peaceful joy that sort of warms you from the inside out. It's the peace that you are loved, that you love, and that you'll keep on loving no matter what. And it sticks around; even as other teaching things have filled my brain this fall, the joy is simply there.

The excitement came soon after. We transformed the house into a call-centre, phoning everyone to share the great news. We were buzzing with excitement as we retold the story; even on the 50th phone call, it didn't feel the least bit old. Wonderful friends agreed to witness the day as bridesmaids, and the world's best brothers as groomsmen.

When my dear friend and housemate Janet agreed to be my maid of honour, she could never have prepared for the evenings of anguish to come as I would try yet another bridesmaid dress colour combination. "Each colour has so much meaning and unique beauty, Janet... how can I possibly choose just one set of colours? Look at this shade of sage, but then there is this stone blue which has hints of my favourite oil paint tube..." I have a guess that Jeremy's great friend and best man, Julian, currently holds a slightly less anguish-filled position.

After the flurry of phoning all of you, the planning started. If a couple is in need of extra practice in communication, I recommend wedding planning. As it turns out, an artist who obsesses over the nuance of composition and a grad student who knows too well the nuance of finances have slightly different preferences in wedding photography. After great deliberation and looking through the portfolios of probably every photographer between Ottawa and Toronto, we found a compromise by picking a great photographer (Tim) but limiting the expensive extras. It felt surprisingly good to discuss, disagree, and reach a solution together.

Next, life started. A friend of mine asked me, "so... how's the planning going?" And I responded, "Oh great! I'm loving my physics lesson plans this year, and advanced functions is such a great capstone course, and... ohhh - you mean wedding planning! Ya, we should do a bit more of that." It's not that I forget about Jeremy. Not even that I forget that about our upcoming marriage - I'm quite looking forward to that. It's just that I forget that we have to actually plan for this upcoming marriage.

None-the-less, the planning seems to roll along. We booked the most important catering company... my friend Jen, maker of delicious liquid nitrogen ice cream.  Mom, Mrs. Gretton, and I went wedding dress shopping in Toronto, and - after more extensive deliberation - we found the loveliest dress. I've told Jeremy that I chose the paper bag with lace. I think he believes me. Somehow though, I'm not sure he'd be too concerned even if I did wear a paper bag with lace. I also tried on grandma Clara's sewing masterpiece - my mom's lovely wedding dress. It fit... almost too perfectly? Is it weird to be an exact replica of one's mom? I'm planning to wear mom's beautiful dress for the reception at the Woodstead.

But despite the extensive deliberation, these preparations for our wedding - a colour set, a photographer, a liquid nitrogen ice cream maker, a dress (paper bag or otherwise) - are not so essential to the preparations for marriage. And having not been married, we have a ton to learn. Pastor Steve got us started with a great book that has fostered many a good conversation. Pastor Chris helped us out with pre-marital counselling, which was a very affirming and encouraging experience. As we've been preparing, I've noticed that relationships have a remarkable way of refining us - sometimes as an uncomfortable mirror that shows us the parts of ourselves that we'd rather not see - but in a way that encourages growth, not judgement. It's this paradoxically beautiful thing about relationship - it changes us while loving us as we are; it pushes us forward while steadying us. It's messy of course, as the creation of any good artwork would be, but it's beautiful. And we are so very blessed with many loving friends and family who are there for us now, and I know will continue to support us as we start the next stage of this process together.

We have a few pastor friends, so the next question was who we should ask to actually marry us. Then we realized that our good friend Adam, who has been there for both of us since long before we started dating, was in his last year of seminary. Adam also happens to be friends with (and slightly shorter red-haired version of) our friend and campus pastor, Steve. Adam and Steve agreed to tag-team the ceremony, and we can't wait.

Being engaged is peaceful and exciting, full of laughter and full of conversations that help us grow, all underlaid with this remarkable joy of the soul. But when I think about being engaged tonight, a rather everyday moment comes to mind. About an hour ago, I was feeling so uplifted, as though I'd just had an encouraging and meaningful connection with a few friends in Columbus. Except that I'm not in Columbus right now. I was only sitting with my computer here, reading an email in which Jeremy mentioned his joy in spending time with these friends. And somehow, simply, it just became my joy too.

People watching in Singapore airport

A little girl sleepily pulls up her fuzzy pajama pants, lagging being her dad who is hurriedly finding their next flight. Two women share texts and news of home as they charge their phones beside me. In four flights on this journey home, I'm feeling the bigness of our world, but also experiencing it's smallness in the individual people who I meet today - each with a unique story woven into our huge story of humanity.

A lot has happened while we were travelling these past few weeks. While we were flying over the pacific, grandma was in the operating room, and mom and dad were kindly sending me updates. Her metaphorical heart was in top notch condition, but her physical one needed a triple bypass. The surgery was successful, and I am looking forward to (careful) hugs soon. Grandpa has been spending these weeks getting back on his feet after a broken hip, and I'm hoping for a (short) walk together when I get back.  During the week before I left, we were ferrying love notes between the two as they were in different hospitals, and I am sure my family has been kept quite busy coordinating visits these past few weeks.

A lot has happened in our global story too. We were pausing for coffee in the Brisbane city square when we saw a news ticker with headlines about a plane - MH17. At first, we assumed this must be some new information on the missing Malaysia Airlines flight from earlier this year, but slowly we realized that this was a new tragedy. At dinner after church on Sunday, I overheard a passionate discussion about supporting Israel vs supporting Hamas. I understand so little of the politics, but i can't help but wonder - what could possibly serve as a good reason to fire a rocket at another human being? Each of these global stories is a collection of individual stories - perhaps of a little girl in her pajamas in Gaza, who wonders where her dad is instead of sleepily following him through a bright and busy airport.

It seems that visiting the layer of our atmosphere above the clouds has turned me into a philosopher who writes blogs about complex tragedies without knowing any good solutions. But there is also something exceptionally hopeful about the golden sun dancing on clouds above the vast expanses of ocean and mountains. And maybe something even more hopeful in the sleepy eyes of a little girl in pajamas, who - despite the rush and stress around her in an unfamiliar airport - knows that everything will be alright.

Our last day in Sydney

Our new friends from the church by the bridge suggested that we spend our last day in Sydney doing the coastal walk from Coogee to Bondi. It was a great suggestion.

The walk took us first across Coogee beach where we saw a couple taking wedding photos. From there we walked along a rocky and beautiful coastline, looking down at the powerful waves and colourful rocks. The path occasionally had fitness stops with simple suggested workouts such as chin-ups or inclined sit-ups. Lots of people ran along the path - it would be a fantastic place to run.

When the path didn't wind along the top of the cliffs, it took us down to the multiple sandy beaches on the coast. There we had fun watching the crazy surfers and the rolling waves. One section of the walk took us up through an old cemetery that covered a wide section of the hillside by the coast. It is quite likely the best view I have ever seen from a cemetery.

We arrived at Bondi beach with a very hungry Jeremy (we only had a small snack before starting the 6km winding walk in hopes that we would come across lunch en route). A delicious Chinese restaurant hit the spot, and Jeremy was saved. We watched more daring surfers on Bondi, did a bit of shopping (I bought a warm and huggable hoodie), and we watched a spectacular sunset. The sun lit up tiny cotton ball clouds across the entire sky with a golden pink. A perfect way to end a wonderful trip.

Sea Kayaking and Sydney

Waking up early, we made or way down to the wharf to catch the ferry to Fitzroy Island. On the ferry, one of the crew rather humorously acted out the safety instructions - including holding his nose while pretending to jump off the site of the boat if given the disembark command.  The views were lovely including a rainbow over the mountains as we boated over.

Shortly after arriving on Fitzroy Island, we embarked on our kayaking tour which turned out to be led by the fun crew member, Malcolm - who was actually an ex-physics teacher. We paddled about halfway around the island, through shark fin bay (which was actually only named for the fin-shaped rock on the shore... but that doesn't make as good of a story). 

As we continued to kayak toward the side of the island that faced out onto the open ocean, the waves became large rolling ones, very unlike any of the choppy lake waves that I had paddled on before. At that moment, I discovered that an anneke stomach can even get woozy on a kayak if said kayak is on the ocean.

We made it to our destination - a beach across from an island called Little Fitzroy. The beach looked like it came out of a children's story about a deserted island. The powerful waves carried thousands of pieces of broken coral up onto the beach between red rock boulders. The waves proved a challenge for swimming,  however. I made it just three or four meters in from the shore before I discovered that I simply wasn't strong enough to swim in the channel between the beach an Little Fitzroy. Jeremy actually managed to do a bit of swimming, but cut his hand on a rock. However, it makes for a far better story to say that the cuts came from his heroic efforts defending me from a shark in shark fin bay. Feel free to choose your preferred rendition of the tale. (Don't worry mom and Mrs Gretton, both of our cuts are small and we've kept them clean and thoroughly polysporined). While Jeremy braved the waves, I explored the large rocks behind the beach. I found that the pumice quality of the rocks made then quite easy for gripping and allowed me to climb more easily than I expected. There, I found some speedy geckos who dodged under the crevices in the rock. And I felt a bit like a gecko myself.

After about forty minutes, we paddled back to the main beach and retuned or kayaks. We then had three hours to walk a bit around the island and find pretty corals and shells on the beach.

The ferry took us back to Cairns, where we happened to walk by an Aboriginal art festival on our way home. A dance and music troupe was doing an impressive performance, and I purchased a card with printed artwork from a painter selling her work.

It was another early bed as we had to get up at 4:25am for our flight to Sydney the next day. The flight was a particularly beautiful one as we took off through the golden clouds of sunrise. In front of us were two very cute and very excited kids, who I think we're taking their first flight.

When we arrived in Sydney, we caught the train to our hostel and then set out to explore the city more. We started with the national art gallery, which was both free admission and absolutely fantastic. They had a large section of Australian painters in addition to Ruben sculptures, Van Gogh, Picasso, and other well known artists.

Next, we walked to the state library which held a moving exhibit of journals from WWI. The stories of Australian soldiers were powerful and tragic. When we peeked outside again, we saw that the sun was about to set - perfect timing to cross the harbor bridge. So we made the beautiful walk across the bridge, and I took a hundred photos of the lovely 4:45pm light on the opera house.

On the other side of the bridge, we found an Anglican church called "church by the bridge" - a rather fitting name. We attended their evening service, which was so uplifting and challenging. The congregation was also very friendly, and we were invited to go out for dinner with a number of folks from the church. We enjoyed a delicious Thai dinner, and - perhaps for the first time ever - I ate more than Jeremy! I believe this crazy event occurred only because the world is upsidedown in Australia.

Arriving in Cairns

We got up this morning to catch the free shuttle from Port Douglas to Cairns from our hostel. Today, the owner of the hostel was the shuttle driver and he quite literally and humorously pulled out the red carpet for us (he had a red carpet that he rolled out into the sidewalk leading to the shuttle bus).

The drive back to Cairns was as beautiful as the drive to Port Douglas, but this time with dark grey clouds pouring over the mountains like molasses. We were kindly dropped off right at our hostel in Cairns, where we left our bags. From there, we found a grocery store to buy our standard lunch - hummus, pita, and tomatoes... but this time with the fancy edition of celery and tzatziki. Then we sorted out our plan for tomorrow and found the dock where or ferry to Fitzroy island will depart.  We will be going on a kayaking tour around the island, which is quite mountainous and was a lookout point during the second world war.

After finding the dock, we hopped on a bus to the botanical gardens. They were amazing! In addition to the more designed gardens, they have built trails and boardwalks through a beautiful bit of rainforest. Across from the rainforest was a little lake, where we saw several lovely birds including a pelican!

After wandering through the rainforest, we came across a sign that pointed to "the tanks". It was an unusual name, so we followed the sign and found tanks! Huge circular buildings that looked to have been built to store massive amounts of something or another. Today, however, the tanks are used for art! At the particular time that we dropped by, there happened to be an artist workshop in one tank. It was filled with easels and artists, painting or critiquing each other's work. No one seemed to mind the random Canadians who wandered through, enjoying all the art. In the next tank, there was a stage and it was evidently set up for a performance. On the stage, a dancer was practicing his routine. It was mesmerizing.

Finally, we caught the bus back to downtown and found dinner for a hungry Jeremy. We even contemplated going to a film, until we saw that tickets were $17. Things are quite a bit pricier here. So we returned to the hostel, and now I'm about to sleep. It'll be an exciting day tomorrow!

The Oldest Forest in the World

We got up early this morning to catch a bus for the Daintree rainforest, which is thought to be the oldest forest in the world. Being an old home, it has old inhabitants... including crocodiles! We started our day with a river boat down the Daintree river where we met (at a bit of a distance) a large male crocodile who was pretending to be a log in the water, a lovely female croc warming herself in the sun on the bank, a shy female in the water, and an adorable baby croc on a little branch. On the opposite side of the river, we came across a little yellow bellied snake, who looked rather cute and innocent, but our guide informed us that this little snake was actually quite deadly. But it stayed in the tree and we stayed in the boat, so all was well.

After the cruise, we enjoyed a delicious morning tea with scones at a restaurant near the river. The whipped cream and jam filled me up too fast, but Jeremy saved the day and ate my second scone.

Next, we took a short but rough drive in a rather ridiculous zebra painted truck through the rainforest, crossing several streams and a lots of rough road. Our guide told us that in one square hectare of the Daintree, there are more different kinds of trees than in all of north America and Europe combined. There is amazing life in the trees - ferns grow in the branches, creating a life on life effect.  There were a few sharp vine-like palm trees that are very strong and were once used as knifes to fillet fish by aboriginals. We saw ginger plants and all kinds of fancy trees - some that you might recognize their names from an expensive bottle of lotion at the body shop.

The bumpy road through the rainforest eventually took us to cassowary falls! Jeremy braved the cold temperatures to swim in the water under the falls. I nearly jumped in until I saw the giant eels and got a little creeped out. So I waded and photographed Jeremy instead. Then it was time to leave the beautiful rainforest behind, and we drive back to Port Douglas.

In addition to the beautiful views of the forest covered mountains and the sea, the drive home took us past many sugar cane fields! There was also a banana plantation, a cocoa farm, and lovely rolling fields of grazing dairy cows. In summary, Australia is simply one deliciously sweet chocolate banana milkshake.

Back in town, Jeremy and I enjoyed a nice walk along four mile beach (though we didn't quite make all four miles) and then through the downtown to a tasty pie shop. There, we ate crocodile pie flavored with lemon and ginger. It was delicious! We also stopped by a restaurant on the wharf that feeds a grouper named George. He was huge!

Along the road, we spotted a Tarzan-style root hanging from a tree, and I couldn't resist swinging. After taking a silly photo, we walked over to a nearby tree that had an interesting flaky texture to its bark. A friendly local fellow evidently noticed we were newbies (I suppose something about me excitedly exclaiming that I was Tarzan at sight of a rather common Australian tree in my Canadian accent may have given us away as tourists...). This fellow was very kind and explained to us how the incredible trees grow - from the top down, with birds carrying seeds into the top branches. Then the seeds grow roots like the one I swung on to the ground, eventually strangling the original tree. He also told us that the flaky tree we saw was actually called a paper tree, and explained that the aboriginals used it as a cooking surface and as a baby carrier (I assume not both functions at the same time).

Finally, we watched the sunset at the point and walked back to the hostel for our last sleep in Port Douglas. I have all new roommates tonight, and they are nice. One girl played classical music while I wrote this blog post.