GameDay in Clemson

I am writing this the at the same time as the previous post, but for obvious reasons, I did not feel that they should be together.

So, if you haven't heard, there's a big game in Clemson this weekend. We come into the game now 6-1 and ranked #12 in the nation. GT is coming in, also with just one loss, and ranked #13 in the nation. We are the two teams that look most likely to make it to Jacksonville, site of this year's ACC Championship. However, for us, with our one loss coming to BC (oh, how I hate them), it is a must win. Another loss to an ACC opponent could mean that we are out of the running for a trip to the championship game.



9 of the last 10 times we have played GT, the game has been decided by 5 points are less. And, unfortunately, GT is 3-1 in their last four trips to Death Valley. Our biggest strength, our offensive line, plays into their biggest strength, their zone blitzing style of defense. Our biggest weakness, our special teams, also is their biggest weakness. It's hard to tell what will be the difference in this game. Will James Davis continue to score TDs on a record setting pace? Will Calvin Johnson have another big game like he did last time he came to Death Valley? Will Gaines Adams get a sack in a record six games in a row? Or will Reggie Ball take advantage of his overpursuit to have a big day on the ground? Who knows. It seems like a dead even match up, but something has to give. Games don't end in ties anymore.

I think we're the better team. We are playing at home, in front of a sell out crowd, under the lights, with the national spotlight on us. There is something special about Death Valley at night. We will win our homecoming game. I say Proctor throws for a TD, James Davis rushes for one, and we pick up one somewhere else (maybe special teams?), Jad makes one field goal, and until he proves that he can do this right, he misses another EP. Tigers win another close on 23-17.

So with that out of the way, let me make a confession. I miss Clemson awfully bad today. With all the hype around this game, with us being so highly ranked, and with GameDay coming to campus, I just miss it awfully bad today. But before you get too worried, I'm not talking about homesickness or culture shock or anything like that. Just wish I could be there, for one day, and then I'd gladly come back. Looking at the webcam on Clemson's website of beautiful Bowman Field, covered in homecoming floats and the ESPN stage in the background brings up all the affection I have for that place. For years I threw frisbee on that field hoping that someday we would be back in the national spotlight. Now we are. If we win today, we will be knocking on the door of the top 10 and will have given ourselves a pretty good chance of winning the ACC and going to our first ever BCS bowl. All this happens the year, the one and only year of my life up to this point, that I CAN NOT go to Clemson. The last two years, in CO, I chose not to go to Clemson, mainly due to a lack of money, but this year, with so much going on, I would gladly pay it to be there for this game. So no I'm not homesick, I don't regret coming here, I'm not battling culture shock, I just miss my home, Clemson, SC.

Prayer Request!

I got an email this week that two Christians have been arrested (not in my town, but in this country). Judging from what the email said, and assuming it was a reliable account, the police came into their home on a charge of illegal gun possession. But now they are being charged with disgracing the Turkish republic, inciting a riot, and talking bad about someone else's religion. Apparently the gun stuff was just made up so the police could enter their house and do a search. These charges may sound a little silly, but they're serious, and carry long jail sentences. Pray for these people!

I shall be telling this with a sigh...

Visa Application, part 1

So all you have to do is go down there, ask for a two year tourist visa, they give you a sheet of paper telling you what you need, then you go back with what’s on the paper and they give you a visa?

It’s that easy.

It’s that easy?

That’s about how the conversation went with my coworker, GI Joe, who just went through this process. However, whenever someone says, “It’s that easy,” beware! It’s never “that easy.”

Yesterday I went down to the place where you apply for visas. I walk up to the gate around the building and read a big sign in order to find which door I need to go in. I find the office I’m looking for and start to head in. Here’s where I made my first mistake. I look at the entrance and see a few guards standing by a door. To the right of the door is a sign that says “entrance.” To the right of the sign is a large gate, about the width of a two lane road, standing wide open. So I headed towards the huge gate, thinking it to be the easiest way in, only to be yelled at in Turkish by one of the guards. Apparently you have to go through the door, not the gate. So I’m in and I find another large sign to make sure I know which door to go in. It’s pointing me towards a door right in the middle of the building, though most the people go in the door to the right. But I think to myself, “Well, they’re all Turks, maybe the foreigners are supposed to go in here.” So being one traveler, long I stood and look down one as far as I could. Then I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

I go in the door and see nothing but a flight of stairs. I go up and find a small group of men standing there. Obviously I looked lost because one of the men asked me something in Turkish that I didn’t understand. So seeing my lack of language skills, he points me to an office and tells me to sit. The nice man in the office asks me what I want and I tell him I want a visa. Then he asks me something that I couldn’t understand, laughs, and says, “One minute.” A minute later a policeman comes in the room and beckons for me to follow him. He leads me to another, larger, office, and seats me in front of a nice shiny desk with an important looking man behind it. The man begins to speak to me in English, though not very good English. He asks me what I want. I told him I wanted a visa, a long term visa. So he begins, “How long do you want the visa for? Why did you come here to begin with? Why do you want to stay? What will you do for two years? How you will afford to live? Did you come alone? Etc. etc.”

To say I anticipated this would be a lie, but I had gone through these questions in my mind already, deciding what I would and would not tell them and how I would answer the questions in a way that kept my integrity intact without compromising my position or my teammates here. So I feel that I handled the questions fairly well. And please, don’t misunderstand me, this wasn’t an official interrogation or anything, just a very curious man.

After he was satisfied with the information I gave him, he told me that a man would be coming to get me and to take me to the visa office. I thanked him and he went back to work. I noted his name plate on his desk, which was made of glass and looked pretty schwanky. It had his name overtop of “Komiser.” You guessed it, commissioner, also known as the Superintendent of Police for my city. I wasn’t just questioned by a policeman, I was questioned by the top policeman in the whole city.

So I went with the other officer down to the visa room. They had sent this officer because he spoke pretty good English and he served as my translator. Another, chubbier, officer was in charge of the paperwork I presume. He was the one telling me what I needed in order to get the visa. But either he had done something bad wrong yesterday or the bossman over the visa department just didn’t like me, because he was very angry. The boss kept coming over and yelling at the chubby guy and giving me dirty looks. I’m not sure what the “evil eye” looks like, but I think I got at least one yesterday.

So there with the chubby guy, I got the same questions as before, and a few new ones. They wanted to know how I was going to afford to live here, what I would do, if I was alone, who did I live with, what did he do, where did he work, how did you meet him, etc etc. I answered their questions and just rolled on. The chubby guy explained how much money I would need, that I would need to copy my passport, bring five pictures with me, write a letter requesting permission to stay in the country, and complete two copies of a visa request form. “Great,” I said, “Give me the forms and I’ll be on my way.” Not so fast! The forms must be completed there in the office. And not only that, but the letter I have to write must be in Turkish, and should be written in the office too.

So what did I get out of this whole deal? Well, I got good practice at answering questions. I was able to practice the art of “staying in my box” under pressure. I got to meet the top policeman in Adana. And, most importantly, after my almost hour and a half in the belly of the Adana police station, I got a four inch by four inch sheet of paper telling me what I need to get a tourist visa. I have to collect these things (money and pictures) and return another day to complete step 2. What is step 2? As Tom Tom would say, “Only God knows that!”

Parrrrrtaaaaaaay!

Well, not really.

Everybody asks what I did for my birthday, so I decided to tell you. I got up and went to church as usual. Struggled to understand what was being said (still don't know what passage he was preaching from, but it's somewhere in 1 Peter). Argued for Christ over Muhammed with my friend afterwards. Played pool for 2 hours with another friend. Had to play one game by cell phone light thanks to a thunderstorm that knocked the power out and the fact that the pool hall is underground. Went to the bakery to buy myself a pastery to serve as a cake. Got it for half price, with a complimentary pink candle, because it was my birthday and the register dude wants to go to Miami someday. Came home and got hammered on a one litre Coke with the roommate. That was pretty much it. No great fanfare, just another day in Central Asia.

The day after my birthday is always sobering too. First of all, you just got done with a day where everybody was giving you happy birthday wishes and pats on the back and what not. Then you just go back to being same old Joe, or in this case Chris, and nobody really pays much attention. And then you have to go through and make a list of all the people who didn't wish you a happy birthday for one reason or another, *cough* Gouge, and figure out if they're still your friend or not. But when all that is over, I look at my life, and say to myself, "Man, I am 24 years old." No, it's not old, I'm not trying to imply that, but man, life just keeps on going. It doesn't slow down. I don't get time to warm up, to practice a little, to get my act together. I keep living and everyday I am confronted with my sin and the fact that even now, almost seven years after meeting Christ, I have such a rough time staying on the path. I look at the world around me and I know that this is a hard place where the Gospel is struggling. But then I remind myself, you've been here two months, and you've only shared with one Muslim, and then it was in a very broken and hard to understand way. Two months in and I can barely get around town trouble free. I can't tell people where my apartment is, and yet I desire to tell people where my heavenly home is. Man it's frustrating. Though I'm 24 years old, my language skills here are on the level of a 6 year old. I still wallow around in my sin like it's my first week with the Lord. And I think to myself, man when will this all change. Maybe this is the year.

Here I am at 24, in case you thought something might've changed. It hasn't. And to my joy, the beard is back baby.








In other news, when I am done typing this, I will make a trip to the Foreign Affairs Ministry or whatever they call it, to start the process of getting a visa. I am going to try and get one that will last for the next two years, so that I can stay with no problems. There are two things I want to happen today. I want to start this process, which includes gathering some information and filling out some paperwork. I know I can't do it all today, because I have to have some pictures made and I need to do some money transfers, but to get things started would be great. Secondly, and it's more of something that I don't want to happen, is I don't want to get interrogated. On the one hand, it makes me excited to think about being interrogated and mentally slapping these guys around. They'd never get anything out of me, that's not what I'm worried about. It would just be really nice to walk in, smile at the lady behind the counter, get my paperwork, get out, and get on with life here. We'll see in about an hour if that's God's plan or not.

I'm All In.

Those were the first words I heard the other day as I turned on ESPN. It was the final table of a No Limit Texas Hold 'Em tournament that a seasoned pro lost to a newcomer on a very stupid play. We can discuss the ins and outs of poker later, but first, let me tell you what makes this story remarkable. I was watching ESPN! I have found a way to watch ESPN on my computer. Now granted, my internet connection isn't fast enough to actually watch it in my home. To save money, we have the slowest internet connection offered. However, if I go to my boss' house, where he has splurged for more speed, then I can actually watch ESPN. Unbelievable.

I had to install Windows on Eve (my Macbook) to make it happen though. This I sincerely apologize for. After I installed it and opened it, I knew it was wrong. I bought this computer for her speed, power, dependability, and other things, but what has made me fall in love with her, more than the things I have mentioned, is her beauty. She's the prettiest computer you've ever seen. All the screens, buttons, programs, everything runs so smoothly and looks so good doing it.
To see that ugly Windows screen, with it's glossy buttons, unorganized program lists, and that ugly color scheme (the Window's blue surrounding that scene of podunk Kansas is horrible) on my beautiful Mac screen was an abomination. I have left it on there, with the hopes of watching my Clemon Tigers on ESPN, I promise, that once the football season is over, so is Windows on my Mac. I'm sorry you have to do it Eve, but sometimes love hurts. My love for Clemson means I must make sacrifices, and I am asking you to make this sacrifice for me. Please forgive me.

But speaking of Clemson. Well, let's just say that Temple is the worst team in Div. 1-A. They had a 18 game losing streak coming into our game Thursday night. Despite that, we couldn't score a single point in the 4th quarter. I don't know what is wrong my Tigers. We just can't close out a game. But wait a minute, I know what you're thinking, "Crap, did Clemson lose to Temple?" haha, not exactly. We might not have scored a single point in the 4th quarter, but we did score 63 points in the first 3 quarters. It was nice. We ran the ball all over them and were nearly perfect throwing the ball. Our next two games will be tougher. We have GT next. Luckily, it is in Death Valley and we have a few extra days to prepare. But they are good. They will be tough to beat. And the game that I have been dreading all year, the trip to Blacksburg to play VT on a Thursday night, just four days after our game with GT. Whoever was involved in making our schedule obviously hates us. We must win both to have a chance at being in the ACC championship game. If we do not, at this point, it would be a disappointment. I know I said we'd go 10-2, and I agree that is reasonable, but I don't want to see it happen. 11-1 is so close. Let's do it Tigers!

A lot happened this week, and then again, not a lot happened. Monday was fairly normal. We had Bible study in our house again and it was dealing with holiness. It's probably a good thing I didn't know enough language to speak, because I don't think I agreed with everything that the leader was saying. However, someone else brought up a good question that caused quite a discussion, so I wasn't the only one who thought things sounded funny. Tuesday was one of the longest afternoons of my life. I was just trying to mail some paperwork to Istanbul, but it wound up taking me three and a half hours. I didn't find the shipping place my boss told me to go, so I went downtown. I got wrong directions from two people before I found someone who could show me where to go. The crazy part is, he spoke English. Well, that's not really that crazy, except that while we were speaking English, he whipped out his Georgia driver's license! He went to Southern Polytechnic University near Atlanta, where my former coworker at the GDOT is currently enrolled. Small world. I have his name and number, and we will keep in touch. Then I had some language lessons with a man from church at another family's house from church. They fed me the best meal I've had in the country. Beans and meat with rice and salad. Sounds plain, but it was amazing. I didn't feel 100% Wednesday, but we had a nice prayer time with the team that night. Thursday I had to be at the office most the day, so I just studied and read. Les Miserables is a good book by the way. I had read it in French, but had forgotten most of it since then. It's a good read. Thursday night I had a big discussion with my roommate about how to handle a guy at church who's been slandering some other church members. It's a sticky situation. Pray for that one. Yesterday the school had a picnic for the kids. We went to this awesome place where a small river has carved a gorge in the hills about an hour from here. It was a really cool place and quite relaxing, which was nice after not sleeping Thursday night listening to my Tigers.

So I know it's long. Give me a break, I've been busy! I'll be better about updating this week.

The Moops Day 2

So I've had the moops for two days now. If you don't know what the moops are, go watch Seinfeld, it'll educate you and just generally brighten your day. They've been brought on by things, not just by accident. Yesterday it was a combination of having a pretty boring week (hence my lack of good blog material) and a slightly disappointing talk with the boss. Today it was something that happened at school.

So I help at the American Co-Op on Fridays. Right now there are only 6 kids. I don't teach. They have DVDs of teachers that were recorded at some Bob Jones-ish private school in Florida. Judging by the way the teachers dress and look, you'd think they were recorded in the mid-80s, and they may have been.

As a side note, before I get into the story, for the Bible classes and oral reading assigments, the kids have to memorize and read out of the King James Version.
Come on people, let it go. I understand it was THE Bible for hundreds of years, but really, no one talks like that anymore. Kids don't understand it. Sometimes it sounds less like the kids are reading Scripture and more like they're reading some Germanic cookbook with a lisp. Let them read something a little more contemporary!

Anyways, so back to the story. So of the 6 kids, 4 are alone in little rooms by themselves with a TV and a DVD player, also known as their "teacher." For hours on end they listen to these people ramble on about whatever with the only real interaction being when they have a question or when it's time to take a quiz. To prove how little the supervisors do, I read "The Old Man and the Sea" before lunch today and "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" after. So needless to say, in the mid morning, when the power went out, I was excited. The two younger kids were just starting spelling, which I could handle (since it's on a fourth grade level) and the older guy I was over had just started science, which I happen to know a lot of thanks to Time Magazine's Public College of the Year in 2000, Clemson University. So I thought this would be a golden opportunity for me to do a little teaching, help the kids learn, let them have a little fun, and get them out of their own little dugeons. So I decided that we would play Yahtzee, with me quizzing them as we went. Unfortunately, I'm not the only supervisor in the school, and not all supervisors agree with this type of approach to learning. The other lady (who happens to be the mother of two of the kids I was with) came in. She came in the room and said, "So, are you guys going to get started on homework?" I said, "No, I'm going to do something with them." To which she replied, "Oh, you mean you are telling them their homework." And I said, "No, I mean we were going to do an activity together." At which point you could see in this lady's face sheer terror.

Now look, I know what the contingency plan is. The power goes out pretty regularly here. I guess that's to be expected in a "developing country." We've talked about what should happen in a time like this, and I know that protocol says they are just to stay in the torture chambers and do homework. But come on. Here is a Kudzu League educated, strapping young 23 year old biologist offering your son very personalized tutoring in an interactive environment. You'd think this lady would be all over it. Nope. Instead, she was visibly flushed in the face as she told me that they should be in their rooms doing work, not out here playing games. It's not like we weren't going to study as we played. I had the books opened in front of me already. Let your kids enjoy it for once. The real kicker to me is that today they started a weekly thing where on Fridays instead of study hall all the kids have to give a short presentation of something they did in class that week to the rest of the kids. Why? Because they're too isolated. Well what the heck. I'm un-isolating them and letting them learn in a different and more exciting way.

So all these thoughts are racing through my mind. My usual rant is coming together in a mental outline and slowly starting to take shape as key words and phrases are finding their proper homes in the places where the verbal jab will deliver the most effective blow. I was primed and ready to do what I do best, to state my opinion. However something else crept up inside of me. It snuck up behind me as I sat there in that chair. It wasn't a shock or a fright, but more like an old friend coming up and wrapping their arm around your shoulders with a smile and a "How ya doing?" It slowly started to take over for my tirade like a warm blanket being pulled up to your chin slowly on a chilly night when you're half asleep. Maybe you can blame the moops or maybe it was a product of it. Whatever caused it, I was and am glad my old friend Apathy came back.

I just sat back in my chair and said, "Whatever man," in that solid and thick Southern accent that only a man from Piedmont can muster up, and then, only when accompanied by a slight fling of the hands skyward and then around to the back of the head. So I sat back, legs outstretched, hands behind my head, and listened as they were given their assignments and ordered back to their rooms. You could see the joy fading from their faces and they slowly made their way back to their solitary confinement with muttered "yes m'am"-s. The lady took one look at me but didn't say a word as she left the room. All I could do was look at the clock, shrug my shoulders, and say out loud to no one in particular, "Ain't it time for lunch yet?"

In other news, our English teaching company is legal now and should be offering classes in about a month. Praise God. My friend Mark Win sent me an email containing a great quote from D.A. Carson that was in line with my view on expectations. Thanks D.A. And Clemson plays Wake Forest tomorrow. We've lost the last two times we have went there to play, but this is, in my opinion, the best Tiger team we have fielded in a long time. To say I'm nervous may be too strong but to say I am confident would be too. I'm "cautiously optimistic." I'm calling for a 35-20 win and hoping it's not that close. And I've made it half way through Ramadan without being physically assaulted or verybally abused. At least I think so. I have no idea what that guy was saying to me in the market the other day. And speaking of having no idea, I had another "meat" sandwich the other day. Again, I have no idea what it was, but it was good.

Go Tigers! No donkeys.

Point America!

Actually, if you want to get technical about it, we won 3-1 tonight, but I'm not talking about soccer or hockey or any of those excrutiatingly low scoring games. Let me explain.

So all the men from church are coming here on Mondays for a big Bible study. The Shark (a national) showed up first to help me a little with the language. Then the Mexican came (a Mexican worker) to be followed by a new character in the blog, the Dirty Brit (who is, yes, British). I have no reason for calling him "dirty" except that whenever I think of British people, I was think of "those dirty Brits" for whatever reason. So anyway, you have the four of us and my roommate, Special K, all sitting around talking. They're talking Turkish and I can only understand part of what they're saying. I could understand enough to know they were talking about how lazy and undisciplined Americans are, because my roommate was complaining about the Americans he is teaching now and how they won't do their work. I couldn't understand all that was going on, but I knew that all the snickering they were doing was about Americans. The thing was, all of them were in on it. The Dirty Brit and the Mexican both were cracking jokes about Americans. Usually I don't even get involved in a discussion on the merits of America as a nation and our politics and such, but I just couldn't stand to see a British man and a Mexican guy running down my country to these guys that already dislike America thanks to their Islamic heritage. So finally the Dirty Brit says to me in english, "Do you understand what we're saying?" I said, "No, not all of it, but I get the impression you're making fun of Americans." He says, "Do you agree with it?" It was at this point that I had a decision to make. I could do what I normally do and dodge the question. Say something like, "Well, we're not all the same" or "I don't really keep up with politics" or whatever I have to say to get away from talking about America with Muslims. But I remembered, these men aren't Muslims. There all solid believers. So do I have to dodge this question still? Call it defending yourself or pride or spite or whatever, but tonight I decided I didn't have to dodge the question. It was time to fight for my country. So with a sly grin I said, "You know, some of it may be true. We may be a little undisciplined and we might not carry ourselves in a way that is demanding respect and honor a lot of times, but you know what? Even with all the faults you guys have mentioned, I am pretty sure we've beaten every one of your countries in a war." At that point there was much laughter and I went around the room pointing, first to the Dirty Brit, "American Revolution, a bunch of undisciplined savages beat the best army in the world," the Mexican, "Mexican American War, beat you guys for Texas and decided to take New Mexico and California too," and finally to my roommate, "Oh yeah, and that little thing called World War 1, where we dismantled the great Ottoman Empire." At that point there was a great uproar of laughter. When it finally died down, they were looking at the floor and slowly shaking their heads from side to side and mumbling "You're right" very quietly.

So things to pray for (Shea). Pray that these guys will continue to pursue holiness (which is what Bible study was about) and that they continue to study the Scriptures on their own. Pray that I can get the paperwork done that I need to get done. I have some business stuff to take care of before Friday and I have to apply for my long term visa before the end of the month.

"I'm cooking it and you're eating it!"

That is how the Shark described my complete domination in pool today. Once we went to one on one action between myself, the Shark, and (new character here) Herman Mellville, to be called Herman from here on out to be distinguished from another important man in my life story, Herm with the Perm, but that's a whole different story, anyway, once we went to one on one action, I won 12 games of 8-ball and lost 4 or 5, I didn't keep count of the losses. The Shark, named such for his amazing billiard skills, only won 5, and Herman could only muster 2 wins, though one was against me. By the end of the evening, I had become "well learned," a phrase that can also be translated "well cooked" or "well done" (speaking about cooking). Take that however you want.

Anyhow, for a couple prayer requests (Shea): I am almost finished translating my testimony, so pray that I finish that and get to share it soon. My language helper guy finally got a job, which is a praise, but it also means I have to find some other way to study the language during the day. Pray for somebody to help me there. And pray for the church here as it is going through some hard, but exciting times.

"There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar." - Herman Melville, in "Moby Dick"