Language Class, Gelato, and Giuseppe

“Piano la lumaca arriva a Gerusalemm”

Slowly, like a snail comes to Jerusalem....

This is what our new Italian teacher told me this morning when I said that I dont speak Italian well. She told me, “tranquilo” which basically means to “relax.” And that it is a slow process. But... like a SNAIL sliding to Jerusalem??? The girls and I almost had a huge laugh attack right there in classe!!

We like our new teacher, Ari. She is young and sweet and from Pisa. She takes the train every morning at 7:30 AM from Pisa to Firenze so she can teach Italian to people like us. All this, by the way, she explained in Italian. So, maybe I am actually learning something! We have with us in class this time two boys from Kosovo (ages 17 and 18) and a young man from South Carolina whose mom is Italian. Should be an interesting 5 weeks.

My Italian actually came in handy today in sharing the Gospel!! Some of you may know that we have a gelateria almost directly across the street. I haven’t actually counted the steps, but I would guess it’s less than 30 from door to door. It is owned and run by an older couple and their thirty-something son. The son’s name is Giuseppe, as we learned today. He speaks a little English, and loves to practice on us. So while Grace and I sat on the little patio outside his store, he came out and chatted with us. In a mixture of Italian and English (would that be Italish??) we talked about why we are here for this year. We told him that we were here to help distribute a film about Jesus, told from the perspective of Mary Magdalene. He asked if it was a romance. We told him it wasn’t, but that it was about Jesus and that He is God. Giuseppe was confused because he thought Jesus was the son of God only. At this point, Grace and I decided to tell him we would like to give him a copy of the film and he could watch it and we could discuss afterwards. Emily and Grace went back to the store with the dvd. He was so excited and grateful that he gave them free gelato!! God is so powerful, and so gracious that He allowed us to have this conversation today even though we only have 42 hours of Italian class under our belts. We may be moving at a snail’s pace, but God is putting people in our path as we slug along.

Running in Fiesole...with Hunters!

One of the very cool benefits of NOT living in the center of Florence, but up the hill in Fiesole, is running out the back door! Our road is Via Portigiani, which turns into a rather rural, semi-paved road that meanders through olive groves, and all manner of foliage. This morning was a rare-for-August, almost cool day I relished - mostly because of the lesser flying bug population...

We live on Via Portigiani

This is our back door

This what our road turns into in about 7 minutes of running

About 12 minutes into one fine jaunt, I heard a man hollerin up a storm. Suddenly on my right, in the dense, green shrubbery, I saw three or four older gentlemen donning fluorescent orange vests, and bearing arms! Like shotgun arms!


This is my running trail...by grape vines, olive groves, and orange guys hunting...

Running by, I gasped, "Giorno!". Startled, they looked at me like,"You're not a cinghiale!" Yes, that's right, I'm not a wild boar! I, on occasion, look more boarish, than at other times. I usually do have some sort of facial hair, my teeth are large, and there is a significant overbite...but that's about all that resembles a cinghiale (no comments, please...).

At 27 minutes I turned around to run back to Via Portigiani. Then I thought, I have to run back by the orange guys with shots guns...

This doesn't happen in the OC. Quite an adventure today...Thank You, Lord!

Leslie's 2nd Post - Quite an Adventure!

Comfort Zone

Italy is helping me understand the words “home” and “comfort zone”. I am finding that as we venture away from our little house in Fiesole, that each return makes it feel more like home. It has become my comfort zone in Italy.

Today’s adventure begins as many previous adventures have... Mark has already been for his run and is pacing around the house wanting to go “do” something. Emily, Grace, and I are all comfy and settling in for a day at home... Our home. Our comfort zone. He is so exuberant and persuasive as he says, “WHO wants to go to IperCoop?” (The Italians pronounce this word “eeper cope”.) Well, we can’t resist his invitation so I get out my computer and start looking for the address of the IperCoop, which by car is over 30 minutes away. To my surprise, I find that I can actually google map it from our doorstep to theirs... by BUS!! We will have to take 3 different lines and the trip will take us 1:19. There will also be a bit of walking once we get off the bus at the other end. We “bug up” (which means we spray ourselves with Avon Skin So Soft to battle the mosquitos) and forge out on our adventure.

The #7 bus is our usual line down to Piazza San Marco, so that’s easy. Once in the piazza we have some challenges finding our bus - good thing Lorena was here last night and we are brushed up on our Italian!! After walking around the whole circle, we find that #17 picks up right where we got off the #7. This is handy to know since #17 takes us to the train station where we will pick up visitors over the year. The bus is PACKED to the walls - Grace and I are pressed against the glass that separates the riders from the driver. We smile at each other as we both catch a whiff of the guy standing way too close to us. Fortunately, its only 2 stops to the station. Here we have a bit easier time of it to find #28 which will take us all the way out of town to the IperCoop. Here is starts getting a little sketchy as we don’t know exactly where to get off - I think it’s the end of the line, but we start passing signs to the IperCoop and seem to be passing it. I’ve expended all my bravery and decide to just get off the bus rather than ask the driver where we should get off for the Ipercoop.... ahhh, my stupid pride!! My sweet family dutifully follows me off the bus and looks at me hopefully. You see, usually I am a good navigator and they count on me... sometimes their confidence puts them in these predicaments.... Soooo, since we just passed a sign (well, about a half mile back) we head in that direction and are literally the ONLY pedestrians in the whole car infested neighborhood. We walk, following the signs meant for drivers, to the Ipercoop. (See photos from our walk.... arent you glad we brought the camera??)


My mileage guy says we walked 1.5 miles, but it seemed much farther...


How to describe Ipercoop... maybe like a not-nearly-so-clean Super Walmart?? Course all the words are in Italian, all the people are speaking Italian, and the food is... Italian. By now we are hungry, sweaty, and tired. Mark heads for the electronic section while the girls and I look for something to eat. Here we make our first mistake... we go out the wrong place... ya know how when you want to leave the grocery store you sometimes just cut through a check stand?? Apparently, a big NO NO in Ipercoop. Out of nowhere appears a security dude who tells us in Italian that we need to go out the other way. I am thinking to myself, “but we are already out...” Instead I look at him with my blank “I have no idea what you are saying because I am a stupid American” look. “No parlo Italiano... mi dispiace.” So, he points to the far end of the store and says, “Uscita la! Exit la!!” and makes us go back in the way we came. We find the exit and there we find that there they have sensors to make sure people don’t steal stuff. The girls and I wonder if he thinks we were trying to steal.... Next, we make our way down the little mall and find some pizza. It’s then that we realize that the security guy is following us!! wow.... Then we try to order the pizza and the lady points to a sign that says we must pay, then order. We are learning that this is a common thing in Italy. You tell the person what you want as they stand by the cash register, you pay (here it is important to remember not to HAND them your money... you must put it in the little dog dish thing where they scoop it out and therein place your change - said lady was not happy that I handed her the money... sue me! I was still recovering from the cop incident!!) We sit and eat the pizza and a cannolo (dont make the mistake of calling it a cannoli! One is a cannolo and my ordering apparently really confused the pizza lady.) Then we set off into the store again to find Mark.

The rest of our time in the store goes smoothly and we are excited to find the screen we can velcro to our windows to help keep out the zanare (mosquitos.) While Mark and Emily are paying, Grace and I go to the Information Box to see if we can get directions to a closer bus stop. Here I am relieved to meet some very nice ladies. Course they dont speak a lick of English, but with my primary Italian language skills I understand that there is a bus stop right across the street - Bus # 57. So we dash across the traffic and read the bus schedule (also a picture)

which says the bus should be there at 17:21.

We have about 20 minutes to just chill there and we entertain ourselves singing off key. At 5:25 I suddenly realize that the schedule reads that this bus only runs on weekdays.... we bust out laughing.... for about 10 seconds until we realize we have absolutely NO idea how to find that other bus. So... we hike back into Ipercoop and return to the Information box. I explain to the nice ladies that #57 doesnt run on Saturdays and she then starts to ask her coworkers where the #28 stop might be. She has a very worried look on her face when she returns - I ask her to draw me a map and tell her she can speak Italian to explain. I pick up about every third word so armed with her map and instructions we begin our journey to the new bus stop. She says it will take at least 10 minutes. Off we go - fish out of water!! On our way, the #28 zooms past us and we realize that the street it turned off of has a bus stop right there!! Praise GOD!! We sit in the shade on an actual bench as we wait the 25 minutes for the bus. When it pulls up we feel a great sense of accomplishment!! Now you have to picture #28... Its two busses put together by an accordion thingy in the middle. The seats that are left put Mark and Em in the very back and when we hit the bumps in the street it gives Emily a rollercoaster ride as she flies a foot off the seat! Woot!!

The end of the trip finds us back on #7 - ahhhhhh, back to familiar...6hours from when we began!!! As we walk off the bus in Fiesole I get that same feeling I have had before when I get off a plane in Orange County after a long trip. My Italian comfort zone!! Praising our Lord for keeping His eye on us today - and for helping us feel home.

It's all about the Cross, really.

Permesso Update!

Glad you asked! I know you are all wondering if we are about to be escorted out of Italy. No worries... we think we have it figured out. Turns out that the magic “seal” they wanted was from the Vatican because they thought we were Roman Catholic missionaries. We now have a letter, in Italian, explaining that we are not and that our order doesnt even have a seal. The issue of the seal on the girls birth certificates might be a little more sticky. We shall see. We will be armed with the original translations of their birth certificates and pray for grace.

Our plan is to go there next week - probably on Wednesday. The thought is to be there VERY early (like in line at 6 AM) so that we can get to the scary window earlier in the day. Maybe then the lady behind the window will be in a better mood.... News at 11.

What is the Bible Basically About?

If you like thinkers, you'll like Tim Keller.

If you like Tim Keller, you'll like these 3:49.

If you like these 3:49, tell me why...please

Leslie's First Post

The View from the window @ Language School - Lord, Help us learn so we can speak Your love to this people!


So far, no two days have been alike. They are all full of adventure and challenges... Before we moved here we heard LOTS of stories about how hard it is to get anything done in Italy... especially in August when EVERYONE is on vacation. We have been pleasantly surprised that most things have gone very smoothly. I have for you the story of yesterday’s adventure, and today’s challenge!!

THE SEPTIC TANK
Monday morning I awoke to a terrible smell... and it wasn’t Mark! It seemed to be wafting up from the floor in our basement bedroom. Now, I am not used to living with a septic tank, but those of you who have done this know how bad they smell when they get full. That’s just what was happening.... so, we got up and went off to language school. As we were walking along the ancient streets surrounding the Duomo, I was looking at the ground, wondering how long those stones had been there while also wondering how long our septic tank had been full.... I was also BEGGING God not to let it overflow into my house while we were gone!! I am thankful to report that we came home to the smells, but not the sights, of a full tank. Here, I would like to introduce our amazing neighbors (Mauro and Luanna) who live next door ~ well, kind of right out of our front door to the right... anyway, I boldly rang their doorbell to ask them if they knew anything about the septic tank. Now, this is all very difficult because I speak three week’s worth of Italian and they speak less English. But, after much gesturing, dictionary flipping, and smelling of our house, they get the picture. Mauro goes home and gets a piece of paper with a friend’s number on it and calls his friend from our home phone. PRESTO!! The guy is coming in the morning at 7 AM to clean out our septic tank!!! It’s all who ya know, folks! And indeed, he came this morning - RIGHT ON TIME - and did the job. The smell is gone. Course, the funniest part of the evening last night was when we were all sitting around playing cards and the doorbell rang and the landlady, her three kids, and her mom all come in and want to smell the house too! Then there was the long conversation (again with two different languages and dictionaries) about whether we should wait to see what would happen. Obviously, we didnt wait!

THE QUESTURA
Then... there was today. A day that would surely fit into the category of “Well, that’s what Italy is like....” It was our appointment date at the immigration office here in Italy. We were supposed to be fingerprinted for our Permesso di Soggiorno (our Italian permission to stay.) We have jumped through many hoops to get to this day - including the Miami trip to get our Visas. We have (we think) all our i’s dotted and our t’s crossed. We have made copies abounding of all the necessary documentation. We are ready!! I go down early to get in line (since Mark is meeting the septic tank guy), which means I am on the 6:55 AM bus. I am so filled with love for this country and its people as I ride the bus down listening to worship songs on my ipod. I take the 10 minute walk to the Questura office feeling quite proud of myself for being out and about ALL alone at this hour. When I arrive at the office at about 7:20 there are already 300 people (really... not exaggerating!!) in line. I am pretty sure I am the only American there... definitely the only anglo. At about 8 o’clock the line starts moving slowly into the building where a policeman is handing out little tickets with letters and numbers on them. Mine says A114. So, I find a bench to sit on in this large L shaped room with 18 windows for the Questura workers. All the benches are set up in twos facing each other so we all get to try not to look at each other for the hours and hours we are there. Mark and the girls show up at about 8:30 before our number is posted. When A114 shows up on the screen I feel like I’ve won a prize!! I walk up and show the lady our stuff and she hands me ANOTHER ticket - H788. It is now 9:15 and I realize that since 8:30 only 15 H’s have been called. But at least they started with H701. We settle in for the long wait. The girls and I take a trip for coffee and when we come back we make friends with a cute little boy with brown eyes and dimples sitting across from us. Mark also makes friends with Luciano, an Italian man who is there with a lady he has imported from Georgia to take care of his elderly Mama. Time goes on.... at 12:30 we once again get called. This is where things start to get difficult. The lady behind the window is having a bad day... all she does when Mark says a cheerful, “Ciao” is roll her eyes. She gets angry because we only have one number for our family and I try to explain to her that the policeman told me to take only one for my family.... ah well. Frustrated with our English, she stomps off and gets her coworker who speaks our language. He then explains to us that there is some seal or stamp that we were supposed to receive at the Consulate in Miami to approve our letter of invitation... we have no idea what he is talking about since Fabbio at the consulate didn’t give us such a thing. And so far, no one else on our staff here has had to have the mysterious seal. He tells us we need to get the seal and come back another day to be fingerprinted. Then they give us ANOTHER number for someone to look at the girls’ papers.... B40 and B41. So...... another hour goes by so that the same english speaking guy can tell us, “You need that same seal on the birth certificates for your children.” Really??? Yeah.... my patience is running out (ok, it ran out already!!) So, at 1:45 PM we leave the building with nothing accomplished except to be told we need to come back another day and do it all again!! We are still puzzled as to how to get the seal. That will be an adventure for another day!! As we ride the bus back UP the hill to our house I am remembering my love for this country and these people.... Thanking God for the refinement that this day brought to all of us.

One Week Down, One to Go!

I love my job! I can't believe I get paid to do this job! Perhaps this is true because it's not a job, it's ministry. We get to see and hear of transcendent, eternal life change almost daily!

Just this week I heard the story from Massondou, Guinea of our JESUS Film team workers who literally built a bridge over a river to get to a particular village. After 3 days of showing the Film, 32 souls trusted Christ for salvation, and are in discipleship now! C'mon, now...that gets an out-loud amen, right?!



Italian language class has helped me have compassion for those who endure their jobs. Like me this week, these poor folks can't wait for the weekend. "Everybody's working for the weekend", the song lyrics go. What an awful feeling that must be if it's true of most weeks!



Well, one week down, and one to go. By Friday, we all knew infinitely more Italian than we did Monday (that's not much, I'm just sayin'...). Lorena is gettin loved on and having fun with us, because we're just a bunch of goofballs trying to communicate.
It's pouring in Firenze today, and girls had to get out of the house. Here are couple of pics:

Here's the old dude thanking God it's Friday!

Dude, Seriously?!

OK, so I admit I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed. But, I'm not the most dull, either. But, I am a full-on language DORK! This 4-hour intensive, immersion course with Lorena is not really like drinking from a firehose...it's more like waterboarding! IF I were Jack Baur, I'd be able to handle this torture, but I'm not. And I can't...

No English, guys. Nada. None. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Nothing even remotely related to English slang...the BIG, FAT NUTTIN! If we have a question for our Mexican born/raised Italian prof...too bad...we're moving on.

Our Spanish/Australian classmate quit...she couldn't handle translating our questions for Lorena - via Spanish - back to English, and trying to learn Italian herself.





The worst part is, we're paying a grand for this s-l-o-w but certain, torturous death.

Just kiddin (sorta). Actually, the girls are doing great, including Leslie. I'm really the only one going, "ummmm...?"

The fact of the matter is, we know a heck of a lot more Italian than we did 3 days ago. This will come in handy when we are trying to engage the culture for Christ's sake, right? Right? Please tell me it's going to be alright...

More later...

The First Day of Language School - HA!

In a word - Hi-stinkin-larious!

Our professore, Loraina, is from Mexico and has been studying Italiano for 16 years. Doesn't speak a lick of English!

Our only classmate is a woman of Spanish decent, raised in Uruguay until school age, and has lived in Australia since. Adrianna speaks Brittish English and Spanish, and has a couple weeks on us in Italiano.

When we gringos don't understand something (like every-other-minute of the 4-hour class, hello?), the prof explains to the Australian Spanish woman (who doesn't really get it either) in Spanish, then she explains to us! Em said, "I could do this job!" Yes you can baby...and better than anyone else!

Needless to say, we are feeling the profound effects of the Tower of Bable! Please pass the Motrin...

New, but related thought: I'm really glad we're translating the JESUS Film into 1900 languages!

See, "Faith comes by hearing, and hearing the Word of Christ" Rom. 10:17

Half the world's population is pre-literate, so we need to give them the Gospel in a medium 3 billion souls will understand. The JESUS Film is the Gospel of Luke on Film!

So, let's keep translating, people! Learning a language can be fun (or not...), but the proclamation of the Gospel is urgent!!! Let's not wait for folks out there to learn one of the 1100 languages we have done...let's give everyone, everywhere one chance to see JESUS! Amen?!

New Lessons in Trust

So, it's been 9 days since our arrival here in Fiesole, Italia. It's been absolutely exhausting...everything...even sleeping is tiring! Methinks it's because of the internal clock issues of jet lag and all. Not whining, just sayin...everything is different, so there is a physical and mental straining that is uncommon to us. Even with our straining in communication, transportation, verification, and sleep-u-lation, we are immensely enjoying this settling-in time before the girls start school, and we start our ministries.

Les and I have sent the girls on the 20-minute bus ride down the hill to Firenze...alone. Like, without us! Yes, they have a phone. Yes they can kick any Italian boy's ever-livin butt. But, we're learning new lessons in trust.

So Em and Grace are to meet us at a particular place at a particular time.

Welp, our timing got messed up, so we phoned the girls to say meet us at another location...then another...HA, this is great fun watching our baby girls act like young women (oh yeah, they are!).

Two hours later, we're all back @ our place.

Warning: This is NOT a sexist remark, but you may think it is...

It's different allowing your son to galavant around the world than your girls. Sorry, just is...

Do you have a comment about this? First, here are some of the girls' newest pics: