Stokershorst

Yes, Stokershorst is the Christian retreat center in the Netherlands that my grandparents have run, up until recently. There is no way you can pronounce it right, so don't try. For a kid, it is the place where dreams come true. It is about six acres in size, and for me, much larger in sentimental value. The layout is like this: somewhere near the middle sits my grandparent's house, and the Haupthaus, or "Big House." This is where the guests stay. A cool fact about this building is that it used to be a monastery.  A church just next to the monastery was bombed during WWII, and only one corner remains, which was masterfully covered up with bushes by my Opa and Oma (grandparents.) There are still some punctures in the brick wall of the monastery from bomb fragments. Near the bottom of the property is a horse pasture, goat pen, and a recently added playground. At the very bottom is a strip of forest, and then a canal, built by Napoleon for transport, but which now mostly just adds to the scenery, and offers a good fishing location. Above and around my grandparents house is another goat pen, a pavilion, game room, pond, and scenic garden. Everything around Stokershorst is beautiful, perfect. This is due to decades of hard work on the part of my grandparents, as it was little more than a parcel of land with an old monastery on it when they took over the management. About two acres above their house a dairy farmers barn on the right, and slightly lower and to the left a deer pen, which normally contains four to five deer. My Oma and Opa have an awesome agreement with this dairy farmer. He gets to pasture his cows on a field that they own but never use, and in return, they get as much milk as they want. I'm talking fresh, milk right out of the udder, not that ultra-homogenized, ultra-pasteurized, shelf stable, factory milk. It is just about my favourite thing to drink, and I regularly consume 3 to 4 glasses at each meal when we visit my Oma and Opa.
Some of my fondest memories are in Stokershorst. My grandparents always take us to really cool places in the Netherlands, including: various theme parks, a WWII museum with hundreds of tanks, airplanes, and ships on display, castles, a laser-tagging place, and lots of awesome restaurants. My favourite restaurants are a Greek restaurant, and a Yugoslavian restaurant. At both, we generally order several huge meat platters, which everyone helps themselves to. My mouth is watering just thinking about that Schnitzel (among other great dishes).
My grandparents have worked hard for the Lord at Stokershorst for nearly thirty years, and have reached retirement age, and feel that they should retire before they get old and start making mistakes. Unfortunately, this means that the organization is now shutting down. They definitely deserve retirement, but it is really sad to me that they are selling the property, and we aren't going to see it again, except, perhaps, on bike trips going through the area.

One of the castles we've visited with our Oma and Opa

Us with our Oma and Opa at a traditional German restaurant. Note the huge glasses of alcohol-free "Weisbeir" (wheat beer) on the table. I've tried some, and it wasn't bad!

Johnny jumping swinging on a rope into the water in a German park. I think everyone left wetter than they had been.

Me and my brother Johnny sitting on a WWII tank at a museum.

An Overview of Our Life These Past Years (up to 2014), and Our Agency Switch

I have realized in my blogging that there were experiences in our lives that I missed, and several gaps between posts. I have also skipped the details of our agency switch, which is necessary to understand, albeit somewhat confusing. For my own conscience, I feel it necessary to go into these details, and I hope it will not be too boring for you. The size this post is getting is intimidating even to me, and I will not blame anybody for skipping this one.

For those who only want to know about our agency switch, I will simply say that we had been missionaries in the Free Methodist denomination, but due to a change of leadership from Western missionaries to Malawians, we are now sent by TMS and ACCI cooperatively, our mission being to teach Malawians means of bettering themselves through agricultural practices, while at the same time ministering to them about Jesus and the Bible.


 My Dad was a pastor in Deep River, Ontario for many years. He was the pastor of a small church in a small denomination, called the Free Methodists. My parents started feeling that their work there was over, just as the church started to feel that it was too small to keep running. So, in the summer of 2009, we left the Deep River parsonage and moved to an empty, unused parsonage in Charlemont, where a lot of my Dad's relatives live. We stayed there  (rent free) for nearly a year to fund-raise, and then left for Malawi as Free Methodist missionaries. My Dad was assigned to the Southern Region of Malawi (yup, the whole thing, and that contains over a hundred churches.) We lived in a house in Zomba, with a very large yard (over two acres). We spent those two years (2010-12) visiting our churches over the weekends. Most of these exist in rural villages, and our travelling exposed us to the great poverty most Malawians face. Generally we would show up in the afternoon and set up the generator (no electricity in the village) and projector. Then, when it got dark enough, we would show the Jesus film on a sheet stretched between two trees, which served as our projector screen. We would then eat supper (a stiff corn porridge with cooked pumpkin leaves and maybe, since we were guests, meat) and lay down in a hut to sleep on our mats. Next morning, Dad would preach at the church, and we would drive home as soon as we could get away after lunch. We always tried to get back to our home before dark, as the Malawian roads get dangerous at night, but it often did not work. I am happy that we got to share the Jesus Film with so many people, but it basically meant that we got no weekend, and made few friends. Towards the end of our first two years in Malawi, we received the news that we would probably have to stay in Canada for a year in order to fund-raise and take additional courses. At the time it seemed like forever, and we did not want to leave. However, back in Canada, we soon forgot this, and settled in. I might add that we had a two week stopover (as usual) in the Netherlands to visit my grandparents. It was late August when we got back to Canada. The culture shock was pretty powerful, more so than when we went to Malawi. This is a poor example but it will give you an idea of what it was like for us. I have never to this day seen cream cheese in a Malawian store, however, when you visit a Canadian grocery store, you have to make a decision between forty different types of cream cheese. Garlic cream cheese, lactose free cream cheese, cream cheese with apple pieces in it, with bacon bits, Halal cream cheese, cream cheese that doesn't come from cows, cream cheese for kids with strange allergies and diseases, cream cheese for Martians with only one finger on each hand who melt when they come in contact with aluminium foil, you name it, they got it.
We stayed in a cabin in Maple Grove from August to October of 2012, as we decided what to do about housing. The water pipes running to the cabin were not heated or insulated, so it was necessary that we move out before the ground froze. Maple Grove is one of my favorite places to be in Canada. It is a small cabin and trailer camp, which hosts retreats, primarily a big family camp in the summer. It has lots of woods (largely maples), and is surrounded by farmland. Most of our family in Canada goes there for family camp, and we have for as long as I can remember. Sadly, we missed family camp that year, and Maple Grove was mostly empty. Still, it is a great place any time of year, with woods to explore, creeks to catch crawdads (crayfish) in, fields to play sports, a basketball court, and a pool. The cabin we stayed in was small, but homey, and fitted our needs. Me and my siblings slept up in the loft, our parents in a room beneath it. As it got colder, we heated the cabin with a wood stove. Me and Johnny took it upon ourselves to keep it supplied and running, a task we never tired of. After we finished our homeschooling for the day, we would go outside and roller blade, play basketball, or swim. Me and Johnny also rediscovered libraries, an unimaginable luxury after two years of searching for good books to read in resource starved Africa. However, as the weather grew colder, it was time to move out of Maple Grove. Renting a three bedroom house wasn't really on our missionary budget, but we knew God would provide. We heard news of a church near Kingston Ontario, from our friend Glen Snider. He was the new pastor for the Pine Grove Community Church, but already had his own house, and did not need the parsonage. So, in October, we moved into the parsonage. The people there are very nice, and we were grateful because they let us live in the parsonage rent free. I have already dedicated a post to this part of our lives. Here it is:Our Life In Canada (summer 2012- summer 2014) It was during January of 2013 (during a trip to Florida) that our lives once again took a turn in a different direction. My parents received word from our great friends and colleagues in Malawi, the Willson`s, that the management of the Free Methodist Church in Malawi was being handed over to local leadership. The Willsons were leaving, handing the Bible School (in the central capital of Lilongwe) over to the Malawians. This was greatly sad for us kids, as the Willson kids had been very good friends. It was also very hard to imagine missionary work outside the Free Methodist circle, and without the Willsons to work with. It was also during this time that my parents met Darrel Whiteman, a key leader of TMS- The Mission Society. He recommended his organization to my parents after hearing our story of being left without a sending organization. In the spring, my parents began to take his offer very seriously, and applied to be TMS missionaries. They had to pass some sort of test about their Christian beliefs and ideals, and a background check to ascertain whether or not they were criminals (they weren't). After that, we as a family had to take a trip down to Atlanta, Georgia so that we could get to know the TMS team, and they could get to know us. Turns out, they are wonderful people, who understood our goals and our reasons for them.

Although we been a sort of circuit missionary during our first trip, we increasingly saw a need for better agricultural practices among the Malawians. For a Malawian farmer in the village, if he does not grow enough crops to feed himself and his family, they starve. It is as simple as that. And most farmers have only a small plot, no more three or four tools (machetes and hoes, not tractors), and grow only one crop - maize. This means that if their maize crop fails, they don't eat. How can one teach a person about God and help him work on his Christian growth when he is starving? It is next to impossible. Towards the end of our first two years in Malawi, we heard about Foundations for Farming. Foundations for Farming  teaches simple and effective methods of better agriculture, such as ground-cover, crop rotation, natural methods of fertilization, and farming without wastage, all of which, combined, greatly increase the productivity of the local farm.
 In October, we took a 5 week trip to Malawi. One of the reasons for this was that we had stored our furniture and other belongings at the FM Bible School, and wanted it to be out of there before it was handed over to local leadership, simply to avoid any misunderstandings with the Malawians over us removing "their property" from the premises. These possessions had been bought by us with our own money, but, as conflict might have arisen over such an issue, we decided it would be best to store it somewhere else. Our new Foundations for Farming colleagues in Zomba, the Bos family, said that they could store it on their property, and we gratefully accepted the offer. Part of our time was spent on the Lilongwe Bible School Campus enjoying being with our friends the Willsons for the last time that we could foresee. It was very sad saying goodbye to Curtis and Kara Willson, to whom we had become very close, but such is the life of a MK (missionary kid): friends come and go. The rest of our time was spent in Southern Zomba and Blantyre, strengthening previous ties with our new colleagues there. We left feeling sad to say goodbye to the Willsons, but excited about our new field of ministry, and all the things our friends were doing in Malawi.
As missionaries with TMS, we were required to take several courses designed to help "new" missionaries deal with the life that accompanies our ministry. My parents took several that us kids did not participate in, but one was held in India, and was for the whole family. To our great disappointment, it was during both of our favourite family camps, at Maple Grove, and Wesley Acres. This was initially very sad for us, as we have good friends and memories at both camps, however I think our trip to India was worth it. The training took place in Bangaluru (Bangalore), and we made great friends there. Afterwards, we went touring Northern India, figuring that we might never get a chance to be in India again. I have dedicated several posts towards India, so I won't dwell more on that topic. (Find a post on India, and then click on the label: "Our trip to India" to read more about our adventures there.)

It was in India that my parents got yet another huge surprise. They found out that my Mom was pregnant with Elianna. Us children were not informed until we had a stop-over in the Netherlands, on our way back to Canada. Mom and Dad had not wanted to disappoint us if the baby died, so we were kept in the dark until the second trimester. Elianna completely changed our schedule. We had been planning on returning to Malawi in a few months, but our parents had been overwhelmed by the things that needed to be done before then. There are few good hospitals in Malawi, and we felt it was safer to have the delivery in Canada, so, in a big way, Elianna changed our time deadline for the better. She was born in March of 2014, and we all immediately liked her. She has so far been a very international kid, as she visited four continents before she was born (Netherlands in Europe, Canada in North America, India in Asia, and Malawi)!

The next few spring months were a flurry of visiting churches, taking courses, taking care of getting new passports, packing and storing our possessions, and sorting out all kinds of other things on my parents part. During this time we also joined ACCI (Adventive Cross-Cultural Initiatives), our sending organization in Canada. For legal reasons, TMS could not manage our Canadian funds, since TMS is based in the U.S. For this reason, ACCI manages our Canadian funds.
Me and Johnny built an awesome tree-fort with our friend Jeremy, and it seemed that just as we were starting make some good friends in Seeleys Bay, we had to leave! such is the life of an MK.
We were saddened to leave Seeley's Bay, but anticipated our next adventure with an attitude that comes only from experiencing many. We stored our belongings in the basement of the Charlemont church, an area near London, Ontario where many of our relatives live. After this, we went to the family camps at Wesley Acres, and Maple Grove. Both were a blast, and (as usual) I hold many good memories from those weeks. At Maple Grove, Elianna was dedicated. The youth program here was awesome, and all of us had a great time. My best memories there are the Airsoft fight I had with some other teens, and the extreme games and sports the youth leaders created for us.
Somehow I had been able to follow FIFA during this time, and watched the final game in the office basement of Maple Grove, as my parents packed our bags. It was the only place where an Internet connection could be received. After about an hour of biting my fingernails, Germany scored! I was ecstatic. My Mom is German, my uncle is a missionary in Argentina (and my aunt is a citizen), my other uncle was a missionary in Brazil, and I have cousins in Holland, so WE WON FIFA!!! (For those who did not follow FIFA 2014, Germany won, followed by Argentina in 2nd place, the Netherlands in 3rd, and  Brazil in 4th.) This is one of my last memories of Maple Grove; funny the small things that come to mind. The next day, my dad's cousin drove us to the airport in her school bus. There was no other vehicle on the camp that could have carried us and all of our fifteen bags. Later in the day, we got in the plane for our next adventure.

The rest, is history.

We now once again live in Zomba, Malawi, which is near the bottom of the map.

Our Life In Canada (summer 2012- summer 2014)

In between travelling to India, the Netherlands, and Malawi, we lived-traveled in Canada. Our "residence" in Canada was near Seeley's Bay, Ontario, or about half an hours drive from Kingston. We lived in a parsonage next to a church, which the pastor did not need because he had his own house. We are very grateful because the members of this church let us live there rent free for a long time. The house suited us well, but the mold spores that multiplied in our moist basement affected the allergies of our whole family, particularly my dad and brother Jonathan. Our house had a pretty neat setting. We were in the middle of the country surrounded by forests and farms. A small, little country road ran in front of our house, although it would have put most Malawian highways to shame (80% of the marked highways on Malawian maps are small, dirt roads with huge potholes, and are liable to flood in the rainy season). From the road, our house was on the right, a typical Canadian house; with three bedrooms and a large basement. Separating our house from the church was a lawn, and then a parking lot, the church itself rising on the left. It was a tall, two story building, with a steeple, and a bell that automatically tolled every day at noon.We considered having church here a treat, because normally we traveled to a different church each Sunday to raise support. We met a lot of nice folks on these trips, but we didn't know anyone there, so we preferred attending Pine Grove Community Church. One of my best memories of this church was my youth group, which met every Tuesday. One of the really awesome things I did at this church was having Nerf fights with the rest of the teens, in which we played "Zombies." The rules of this game are that half of the players are armed with blasters, and the other half are "Zombies," which carry no arms. The object of the zombie team is to tag the players with guns without being hit. If a zombie tags a "gunner" without being hit, then that gunner becomes a zombie. If a zombie is hit, it has to wait out an allotted amount of time before re-entering the game. We played it in complete darkness, save for those red EXIT signs that all public buildings are required to have. We fought on both levels of the church, the zombies trying to ambush the people with the guns, or storm them. Me and Johnny also went laser-tagging several times, which is equally awesome. We still continue to have Nerf fights with our friends here, having brought several blasters with us from Canada.
 The three sides surrounding our house were woods. Me and Johnny and our friends spent long hours in those forests exploring the paths, or making our own. Just as we thought we were running out of woods to explore, we'd find a new one. Us and our friend Jeremy occupied ourselves for days after our snow forts began with building a treefort in the woods. We used short planks from several paintball field barriers that Jeremy's brother hadn't used for years. these weren't much longer than six feet, so our options were limited. Still, we managed to build a large fort that impressed by parents when they saw it. We also built awesome snow-forts while we were there, but that deserves another post. As our stay in Canada drew to a close, we all felt a bit sad to leave the place where we had finally settled in, however, I we are now happy to be in Malawi. In the summer of 2014, we packed or stored or belongings, and then left on our next adventure. We wouldn't head to Malawi immediately though, because we still had two awesome family camps to visit. Like our snow forts, these also deserve a separate post. In August that year, we flew from one adventure to another, en-route to Malawi, with a stop in the Netherlands. Our two years in Canada were an unforgettable experience, so click on the links below to learn more about it:

One of our awesome snow forts. This one had a chimney, with a fireplace at the bottom that we actually used. A post on this is coming soon.

Pine Grove Community Church,  lots of happy memories here.

Of Snow Battles, Snow Caves, and Other Things Relating to Snow

We were very blessed during our time in Canada that both of our winters there were colder and snowier than usual for that region. Seeley's Bay is half an hour north of Kingston, but still close enough that Lake Ontario tends to keep things warmer. Thankfully for us, we got as much snow as we could possibly want, and both times before Christmas. Huge amounts of our time were spent outside building forts, caves, and snowboard runs. Being right next to the church parking lot, we consequently received huge amounts of snow in the perfect places. Snow banks twenty feet (4 meters) high were piled up and left right next to our house. These afforded great sledding and snowboarding hills, especially with the addition of jumps at the bottom. We also used them as heights to lob snowballs down on an opposing team. Adding to the height of the snow hills were two ditches just beneath them. We would sled from the top of a hill into the bottom of a ditch. Not exactly up to par with skiing, but it entertained us well. The rest of our time outside (on a regular day we spent at least an hour) was filled with sculpting, hacking, and moving snow. Our first snow fort was a single wall stretching from our porch at the back of our house to an extending, covered staircase that came up and out from our basement. This protruded about a dozen feet from the wall, and was roughly the same length as the porch. We recognized this immediately as a possible place for an awesome fort, that could be built without huge amounts of effort. In December of 2013 me, Johnny, our Dad, and to some extent Sarah set out to build it. If memory serves correctly, we finished it just after Christmas, before heading to Florida so my parents could fund-raise and take a course (while we had a blast). It had several low places were we could throw snowballs through, and covered the entire space between the porch and the staircase, save for a small door. The walls were at least a foot thick, and made out of hardened snow drawn from the piles the snow plow left. It was very sturdy, and we could lean on it without its breaking. It was reinforced with sticks standing vertically in the structure, and sections of logs formed the base. Sadly, we never got to have the cool snowball fights we were anticipating, as it mostly melted during our trip to Florida. Still, building it was a ton of fun. This was really our only major project in 2013, but greater things were yet to come in the next winter.

Me (middle), my Dad, and Johnny in front of our first snow fort.
Greater things are yet to come.

The next winter proved to be even more fruitful and snowy than we could have hoped for. I will start with our smallest accomplishments, and work my way up to our biggest.
Several thaws afforded great snowman weather, and we took advantage of them. Once we built a whole family, with life sized parents and two kids. Our largest and best-remembered was a monolithic one that was over six feet tall. Me and Johnny had immense difficulty getting balls that big to roll. To get it up to that height we stacked four balls stacked on top of each other in. The bottom one was waist height. I really had to strain to get that one to move! Despite this initial difficulty, the second ball was harder. It was super heavy, and would have been impossible to for me and Johnny to lift with our hands. To overcome this, we stuck shovel handles through its middle and hoisted it up. The first two balls split through the middle from the shovels, but the third remained whole. The other two snowballs proved less difficult to hoist, although the last required a chair for us to stand on to reach the top.

Our second coolest that year was one that we carved into the snow bank, starting at the end closest to us and working our way in. The whole thing was like an series of caves and tunnels without roofs. We began by digging a tunnel into the side of the bank, and then widening and deepening that into our first room. This deep enough that I could lay down in in, and deep enough that I could not see over the rim. In fact, we dug down until we hit the frozen soil. After that, we continued the process by making another room and corridor connecting the two rooms. We had begun work on the third room when tragedy struck. We had neglected to tell the the snowplower to avoid the part of the snow bank with our fort in it. Consequently, he pushed the whole pile back to make room for more snow while we were in Kingston. It plunged us all into a state of despair for the day. This is the reason I don't have a picture of it. However, it left more time for us to perfect our final and greatest snow accomplishment.

Johnny at the opening of our cave. This pic puts the size of our cave in perspective.

We have now arrived at the best part of this post; our cave. We used a similar method as the fort I previously described, however, we covered the roof of this one. We essentially dug a corridor straight into the snow bank next to our house, and then widened it into a keyhole shape. Once we had accomplished this, me and Johnny laid branches from the pine forest next to our house across the top. these were followed by smaller and smaller branches, making a sort of thatch that caught our next snowfall. Our fort was thus roofed, without the hazard (real or imagined) of the roof caving in. After a couple of weeks of expanding our cave from the inside, Johnny had an idea that gave birth to our greatest invention in snow construction. He tried to build a fire in the back of the cave. There was no danger of the wooden roof being fired, because the wood was wet, and covered by snow. Our expectations were fulfilled, when the cave filled with smoke so thick we couldn't stay in it for long. but that led to a greater idea, this time on my part. We worked for two full afternoons driving a hole down through the ice into the cave at the back. This was no wider than our icepick (six inches across). One of us would shove the pick down the hole, and chip up the ice at the bottom, then the other would stretch their arm down the hole and scoop out the loose ice chips. Finally we penetrated down to the cavern, and had completed our chimney. We then built a fire at the bottom,  which burnt beautifully, and almost all of the smoke escaped. Us and our friend Greg roasted marshmallows in our cave. We built several fires in our cave, which melted the chimney wider. Although some of the snow melted each time, it was cold enough that it didn't melt too much. There was no danger of it collapsing either, as you'll remember. Building snowforts is one of my best memories of Canada, and something that I miss living in Malawi.

Our snow cave from the front. We added chicken feed bagsfilled with snow to the front in order to make the opening smaller. Notice how the top is completely camouflaged. The cave extends to the the peak of the snow hill.

                                 

                                             Me and my sister Sarah roasting marshmallows in front of the fire.

Our fire viewed from the top of our chimney.

Delhi And Departure

After our stay in Shimla expired, we once again traveled in the toy train, only this time we were descending. We then took yet another train to Delhi, capital of India. Once there, we embarked in a rickshaw, our five carry-on suitcases loaded in the back or crammed on our lap. This was our main form of transportation when we were not on a train. One hour, many misunderstanding as to our destination, and two rickshaws later, we arrived at our hotel. Mercifully, this had air-co, although the advertised pool we were all looking forward to was very green with algae. This was our last stop in India, and the next day we would fly to the Netherlands to visit my grandparents there. CONFUSING EXPLANATION OF OUR FAMILY ORIGIN: My dad was born in Canada, but raised in America. My mom was raised in Berlin, Germany but her family moved to the Netherlands when she was 15. This was so that my grandparents could run a Christian retreat center, named Stokerhorst. Almost 30 years later, they are just now beginning the process of retiring. Before my mom went to university, she spent a year in Florida working as a nanny. She met met my dad there, and they eventually got married and moved to Canada where my dad was a pastor. Now we live in Malawi as missionaries. END OF LONG EXPLANATION. So, after a night in Delhi, we took a flight early the next morning to the Netherlands, where we would visit our grandparents for a couple of weeks. We have such stopovers whenever we are travelling from Canada to Africa (or Asia), as most airlines allow for a free stopover in Europe in between such flights. It was with mixed emotions that we left India. We had generally a good time, but we frequently became sick from the foods we ate, and the constant travel was tiring. So, we were all looking forward to being in the Netherlands and having a rest -plus good food and company- but somewhat sad to leave India. And thus concludes the annals of our trip to India, which took place roughly one year ago. Our trip there was one of the coolest things I've ever done, and will never forget.

Of Monkeys, Monkey Thieves, And Monkey Deities

Probably the singularly largest attraction of Shimla is a large, orange statue of the Hindu monkey god Hanuman. It is the second tallest statue in India, sits at the highest altitude in the world, and surpasses Christ the Redeemer in Rio. Our journey to the summit it sits, and our experience their was one I won't soon forget. The only way to access the top is to hike their, so hike we did. The climb was one of the most arduous I've ever done. It seemed as if it went straight uphill. The weather was muggy, and we had all been or were suffering from sickness obtained from the food we ate. But, when we eventually neared the top, it was worth the climb. As we left all signs of civilization behind-save the path under our feet - we entered a forest, the likes of which I'd only ever seen in movies. Immense trees ascended upwards until they were lost from view in the mist that prevailed during our entire stay. Moss blanketed the ground, and hugged the trees. As we approached the temple, the monkeys and baboons that curse Shimla became more prevalent. We had previously been warned to remove all jewelry and accessories from our bodies, and we proceeded to remove our watches. My mom, however, forgot to remove her glasses.What first impressed us upon entering the temple complex was the number of monkeys. They were everywhere present, and made me somewhat nervous. I don't mind monkeys of any sort in game parks, zoos, or anywhere other than my yard where they keep their distance, but these guys were too bold. Before any of us could say anything, one brazen baboon that had been standing six feet behind my mom, leaped in one bound up onto her shoulders. It stole her glasses in a flash, and scampered up a tree. My dad yelled and chased it as far as the tree, but -for obvious reasons- was not able to continue pursuit. We were all pretty shocked. My mom later said that she thought one of my siblings had jumped on her back. We were left to stare up at the monkey with the glasses. If monkeys are the sacred animals of Hanuman, I'd have to say they don't live up to it. Thankfully for us, one of the vendors knew what to do. He coaxed the monkey down with pieces of fruit, and, in taking these, the monkey was forced to drop the glasses. They were mostly unharmed, except that the ends of the of the things that rests on your ear was chewed up. I'm personally not sorry they did, because it adds to the story when I tell it to friends. Those glasses are probably the greatest souvenir we got during our trip. After that incidence, we continued our tour. The center piece of the temple is definitely the statue, which stands taller than Christ the Redeemer in Rio. It is painted a bright orange from tip to tail, a color that is did not appeal to me. In his hand is a huge scepter with a round ball at the end. Hanuman is the monkey god, and one of the principle Hindu deities. He is known for lifting mountains and commanding an army of monkeys. He generally appears -as in the statue- in mostly human form, save for the tail and hairy face. Our visit to the top of that peak was one I'll never forget, and I hope it has impressed you as well.

A Walk In The Jungle

During our stay in Shimla, we took an amazing hike on a path through the jungle. It started with a steep descend, and then a walk besides a river. The trees and vines were shrouded by mist. It was the sort of place where you'd expect a tiger to spring at out at you, and it looked like something out of the Jungle Book. Our destination was a waterfall, and this was also beautiful. The climb up and down was a bit tiring for all of us because we were feeling somewhat sick, but it was worth it.