I had the opportunity to go with Ambra to a tea party her small group was hosting. They held it in a near by town where her small group leader lives. Their goal was to meet the neighborhood ladies and get to know them. They spent several weeks preparing and prepared down to the last detail. It was all very Alice in Wonderland or Pinterest in the flesh with homemade treats and hand crafted decorations everywhere.
The church I am working with in Trieste doesn't have a sign on the door. It's just two small rooms and a hall. The first room is used as a welcome center, fellowship hall, the only Sunday School room, and storage. The hall has some tables for making a cup of coffee, preparing communion, or changing a diaper. The Sanctuary has some bookshelves and couches in the back which give it a livingroom type feel. The center was open when I got there so I helped Ambra set up about 30 chairs. In the front there is a big desk with a computer for printing off Sunday School materials last minute or running the slides during worship. The standard worship team is one person playing the keyboard and three people playing guitar. Sometimes someone plays the flute or percussion. I love small churches where everyone pitches in naturally wherever they can.
So Italy is pretty gorgeous. My bedroom looks out down a green valley, to the city center, and beyond into the Mediterranean. Every time I look outside, it's seems like a picture hanging on the wall. I only know that it's real because there are cars driving around on the roads and birds flying out there, so I must really be here. Trieste is a little deceptive. When I first found out I was coming here, I thought it is was just some random place, maybe pretty small, maybe not so much to see or do. All I knew about the city was that there is a church here, and the pastor's name is Elio and Matt likes Elio and pastor Chris likes Matt so he must be a nice person. Thinking Trieste was more rural, didn't bother me at all. Last time I was in Italy, I was in Rome and Venice. Those places seemed more like an amusement park than slices authentic Italian life. I am sure if you look in the right places you can find Italian people there, but as hard as I looked I mostly found other tourists and heard a lot of Chinese. Going somewhere less trafficked seemed like a good idea. One day I was talking to a coworker, who is in love with Trieste, and she looked up the population for me, because niether of us knew. I was so surprised. It's over 200,000. Looking at the city center, I think there are a lot of places to explore, but looking across the valley at all of the trees, I don't feel like I am in a city of 200,000. That's part of this city's charm. Beyond this valley there is another just like it, and another, and another, each one pouring into the sea. I can see them stretching out along the other side of the bay. It's soft spoken. I arrived safely in Trieste. I have now finally met Elio in person, taken the scenic route through the city, eaten a home cooked meal, and enjoyed my first shot of Italian espresso. I have a feeling sleep deprivation is about to hit me like a truck, but right now everything is good.
The time has finally come. It still doesn't feel like it has, but this time tomorrow I will be in a plane or an airport, far from home and not close enough to Trieste. I will probably be asleep. As far as I know all that's left is to cram everything into a suitcase. Today is an unextraordinary day. Another of successive rain and heavy clouds in a small town that's too big to be quaint. Another, like many days I' ve spent in my hometown, promising to be the same tomorrow. But for me tomorrow will hardly be the same. |
AuthorJenae Archives
April 2021
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