Holiday Hussle and Bussle, No Refunds, and Hunting for Snow

Tis the season to be crowded.
I went to our mall today with the Anti and the Botanist. The Anti has recently learned to drive a stick shift and was willing to drive us out there. They were going for a movie. I was going for some Christmas shopping. The place was absolutely packed! You'd think it was the last weekend before Christmas. Oh wait... It is! With the holidays fast approaching, everyone was out picking up those last minute stocking stuffers. Or not.

Yesterday was probably the biggest single day in the Islamic year. It's called Kurban Bayram here, the Sacrifice Holiday. Every family buys a sheep and kills it to help them draw closer to God. It's in rememberance of Abraham sacrificing his son on the mountain. Everyone travels home to be with family, sacrifice the sheep, and eat a big meal complete with the freshest of meats. It's a huge holiday and most people had the day off yesterday. Judging by my quick estimate, about half the city had today off too... and they were all at the mall. Add to the mass of people crowding the stores the constant heat that was pumping out of only God knows where (Turks are deathly afraid of the cold.) and the many frustrations that come with living here (examples forthcoming), and I think you can understand why it brought back all the worst memories of holiday shopping.

You check the cheese. I'm going to get some dinner.
With that said, I can remember how difficult it is to shop in America around Christmas time. I remember the long lines, walking for hours in the mall, trying to figure out how much you should spend on someone based on how much you guess they will spend on you, etc. But there are some things which happen in this country that just don't make sense. Even though I understand that these people are extremely busy on days like today, there's just no logic behind it, and that adds to the frustrations of the HOT, crowded mall.

Case #1 I'm trying to return a jacket to the store I bought it in two days ago. The man says that I can exchange it for whatever I want. But I don't want an exchange, I want a refund, I tell him. He goes into a long explanation which, due to my limited knowledge of the Turkish language (esp retail vocabulary), the extremely loud Euro-Pop being played over the speakers, the low roar of the other 1500 people in the shop, and the fact that I am sweating profusely and trying to remember if I wore deodorant or not, I don't understand. I simply ask, "Can't I get a refund?" His simple answer, "No, it's a holiday." I clarify, "So, if I want to buy something, I can. If I want to exchange it for something else, I can. But if I want a refund, I can't have it." "No, the banks are closed. It's a holiday." I glance over and notice that the 12 credit card machines are all working. Yes, he assures me, I can buy anything I want. But I can't have a refund. "Come back Monday," he says. And adds, "Merry Christmas."

Case #2 I go into the supermarket just to get a Coke and something sweet to eat. I find some pretty good little doughnut-esque goodies called "Berliners" and the coldest Coke in the cooler (to offset the 120 degree [Celsius] heat coming from the vents) and head to the row of registers. Just like at Wal-Mart back home, there are numerous lines to choose from, but twice as many lines not open. Why places like this feel the need to have 100 registers and only 8 employees to run them is beyond me. But I spot the express line and jump in line behind two people. The man directly in front of me just has some blank CDs and some sort of electronic wire. But the man in front of him seems to have exceeded the 5 item limit. He looks to have close to 10 things on the belt in front of him. I furrow my brow and wonder if this atrocity will be allowed and as I am trying to put together a mild rebuke in Turkish without coming across too condescending, yet forceful, I notice a young child to my right. The bright eyed youngster is holding, excitedly, two packages of chocolate pudding mix. Dad with double the allowed number of items already waves him in to bring the total up to a cool dozen. Then, as the lady behind the register starts to explain to the man that he can't have that many items, his loving wife shows up with an armful of other assorted goodies. The register lady says what I assume is the required and rehearsed speech in this situation and then proceeds to ring him up like nothing was wrong. I was appalled that a man with close to 20 items would try to check out in the "express" lane, more appalled that the company representative manning the retail goods and services invoice calculating station would allow such a travesty, and even more appalled, flabbergasted, really, that the man would have the nerve to pay for his quadruple the limit purchase with a stinkin credit card.

Case #3 The Anti and the Botanist bought a bunch of groceries at the same time (and went through the appropriate lane). But, for whatever reason, the bar code on the cheese they wanted to buy wasn't recognized by the scanner. So, what to do? Punch it in manually? Trust the consumer to tell you the stated price? Or, wait for five to ten minutes, then call a stocker from the warehouse, wait for him another five or ten minutes, explain to him the problem, send him to find either a new pack of cheese or the proper price, ring up the next three customers, continue to wait, close down your register, leave on your dinner break, and leave the foreigners waiting indefinitely for a strange warehouse worker to come back with the cheese that the foreigners haven't actually paid for yet? If you guessed the last one, you'd be correct. The only positive that came out of that whole deal was that I got to break open the Berliners a little earlier than I would've otherwise.

Me make fire. Me eat meat. Me man.
For all these, and a few other reasons, I really missed the mountains today. Yesterday, my two roommates and I took off for the hills. Since it was a holiday, none of has work to do, nor any family to spend the day with, we decided to do something. I talked them into going into the mountains to find snow to play in. We invited some other men, but in the end, it was just us. I was busy Wed night, so I just set my alarm for 9:30, expecting my roommates to wake me up earlier since, surely, we'd be on the road by then. In actuality, I had to wake up one of my roommates and the other was making himself breakfast when I finally got up. We didn't leave the house until after 10, giving us a short day to work with. But, no worries, we still had a blast in the time we had. The ride up was an adventure in itself. My roommate has a new car (twenty years old, but new to him) and had never driven it outside of the city. In fact, he had never driven any car outside of an urban setting. We might have fish tailed once or twice. We may have drifted dangerously close to the opposite shoulder after a turn or two. Special K may have let out a few of his patented wooooooooow's. But getting there is half the fun, right? It became obvious that the snow was just out of reach after we had been driving for almost 2 hours. I thought we would find it at the top of a pass and when we got there we noticed that the snow was actually on the next set of peaks. We were one valley away. But the roads were all dirt roads already, we didn't really know how to get there, and there was no telling how long it would've taken us to get over to it. So instead, we made a picnic.

We just pulled off the side of the road, parked, and made a fire in someone's plowed field. We made a small fire ring and collected firewood. I explained the basics of fire making to the guys and we lit'er up. All there was to work with was pine, so the fire burned fast and cool and made a lot of smoke. But it was good enough for us to cook some Turkish sausage, peppers, and tomatoes. We cut open some loaves of bread and had us a half meater sandwich (Get it? Half meter, meat. Oh well.). We sat around that fire for the rest of the day. We shared stories from our lives. We discussed what was going on in our lives today. We tried to solve the problems of the local church. We dreamed big dreams about seeing this city and this country reached with the Gospel. We told funny stories and some really personal struggles.

There's just something about sitting around a fire with other men that bonds you to them. I can't think of too many other times and places in life that you would just sit in one place and talk and yet never feel bored. Staring into the flames dancing around. Breaking twigs and feeding them to the fire. Poking at the coals with your stick, which you found and whittled to your own liking. It's nothing special, and yet at the same time, such a magical time. Up there in the peaceful countryside bathed in warm sunshine and being watched over by the majestic mountains, time stood still for a while. We weren't English teachers or Turkish tutors or out of work bums. We weren't the guys in church that everyone just laughs at. We weren't at home alone, bored and lonely. We didn't have to hear about how we were coming up short or what was expected of us next. There were no deadlines, no meetings, no place to be except there. It was wonderful.

Though we never found snow and I never got the solitude I was looking for, getting away with those two guys in that field is a memory that I will always cherish. It was a special time spent with two special men. They are incredible people, living incredible lives here, in an incredible place. As Christmas approaches, things have become extremely busy. I have every day planned until I leave for my long-awaited vacation to Italy (more on that later).

Happy Holidays to all of you! (Even if I don't remember which country you live in.)
I may not get to really take time to post my thoughts again like this, so I want you all to know that even though I miss my friends something terrible at times, I am happy. I am glad to be here and glad to be working, living, and worshipping with the people that I have been given. The family I have been given here (the Vs) can't be replaced. The team I get to work with is a great blessing. The church I get to serve with is truly a small and growing portion of the body of Christ. This Christmas is going to be one of the best ever for me. Though I miss Gouge and Paul. Though I wish I were sitting around Ginger's table. Though I wish I could get the apple and orange and peppermints that my Grandma always put in our stockings. Though I can only imagine how excited my little pup Allie is to get her new bone. Though I won't be listening to Dr. Winburn give one of his classic sermons. Though my Dad will probably still be working on Christmas Day again this year. And though I have yet to sing a Christmas hymn this year, in English, I am excited about the holidays. We have a lot of fun, exciting, and worshipful events coming up in the next few days. I hope and pray that you all have as much fun and laughter as I have over these few days. I hope and pray that you all are blessed and loved as much I as I will be over these next few days. And I hope and pray that you all will see God anew, and worship the Saviour who left His place in the heavens to be born a helpless babe in a dirty manger, as much I believe I will over the next few days.

God bless you all and have a Merry Christmas.

(Pictures from the snow hunt will be coming and I will try to have some holiday pictures to post too, since these pictureless posts are getting old. Also, flabber gasted, separately, is underlined in red as being misspelled. But flabbergasted together seems to be correct, in case you were wondering.)

Nifty Little Counter, The Cold, Freedom from Stuff

I added this neat little deal on the left hand side to see where all my readers come from. I know that I don't get the traffic that some of my blogging buddies get, but I always wonder who reads my blog and where they come from. I've already had one hit from Malaysia! I can't say that I know who it is off the top of my head (My apologies Malaysia!), so that's exciting.

In other news, it's still cold here. After summer temps lasting through October, it's gotten cold fast. I know, I know. It's winter, it's supposed to be cold. I agree. But up until yesterday, we had had rain every day for the better part of two weeks. I love this type of weather in America. Whenever I walk outside in that cold drizzle with the low clouds and a slight breeze, I can't help but look to the horizon for that group of widgeon (ducks) coming up the river. I have this incredible urge to go stand in knee deep water before daylight and slowly and precisely place the little plastic decoys in their hospitable formation. To see Orion, my only hunting partner on many mornings, holding his post, steadily gazing off to the horizon, looking for that first flock of wood ducks. It really makes me miss the rivers, swamps, and ponds of home. Plus, it's ALWAYS cold here. The concrete houses, tile floors, and lack of good indoor heating means that I am colder inside my house than I am outside of it. A lot of nights I can see my breath as I type out these updates. I'm not really looking for pity, just venting a little.

And lastly, just a few thoughts on stuff. As Christmas approaches, we Americans inevitably think of presents. We do the nice thing and make long lists of things to get others. I enjoy the process of thinking of everyone, trying to decide what they'd really be excited over, and then the search through the narrow streets of downtown and the bright shops at the mall to find that perfect gift. But I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't just as excited about what I'd be getting. Even here, where I've been stripped of most of my most loved hobbies (like duck hunting), I still long for new things. But why, I wonder.

I don't know why I am so hung up on stuff. I know people here that live in one room apartments. Not one bedroom, just one single room. Everything they own can be put in the back of a station wagon. They live happy lives. They lack nothing. Why do I, with all my cool toys and nice clothes, continue to long for new things? Why do I feel the need to have the nicest of this or the newest of that? Even after I find the answer to these questions about myself, I still have to figure out why I judge the people I meet by what they have or what they wear. It frustrates me. I think back to my time at Clemson when, for the most part, I was the poor college kid. I didn't wear trendy clothes. I didn't have a car for a year or so. Yet I didn't really care. I can't remember ever lacking anything or wanting anything that I couldn't have. Where has that attitude gone? Do I feel like I need to look good now that I'm a professional? That may be legitimate to some degree. But why does that same attitude have to set my standards for others? In short, why do I judge my own worth or the worth of those around me by the stuff they own? People are more than the things they have collected. Sadly, considering all that I have and the attitude I have towards it, I may be less.

God gave you style, he gave you grace.

Lots of things to write about, but they're all jumbled. So here they come.

We had another installment of our Global Cafe last Friday night. It was a smashing success, I thought. We had some fun games planned, but I was a little nervous. They were kind of simple games, but at the same time, I was worried that they may be too advanced for some people. Plus, I was afraid that they may be too childish. But, they turned out to be great. I will admit, I love a good group game. I made another friend in the English teaching department at the university. Hopefully that will develop into something that I can call a friendship and open doors to a new niche for me out there.

That day was one to really remember too. Zach and I had lunch with one of the most interesting people I have ever met in my life. He's a guy that we met through our weekly basketball game. He actually used to play pro ball here in Turkey, but was forced out because he was translating socialist books into Turkish. After that, he went off to Canada for a while. After being fed up with the big city, he made friends with some local native americans and moved in with them. They gave him the name, "Wild Wind from the East" and he loves them dearly. Somewhere in all this, he made some good friends in Cuba too. I'm sure his socialist and atheist beliefs was the common denominator there. Back here in Turkey, he is a lawyer now. He has worked on cases for a local Islamic group as well as for the local Catholic church. He gives a lot of free legal advice, bootleg DVDs, blues remixes, and, as I found out last Friday, free Cuban cigars. He fed us a nice kebap lunch, though he just ate leftover breakfast food. After our kebap, we made our way to his office where he offered us cigarillos from his last trip down to the island. He packed a pipe and we all lit up. He had a lot of business to attend to, so it was mostly Jared and I having nice conversations, but it was a great afternoon.

While we're talking about smoking, let me say that I had the chance to smoke a nargile again this week and it was just as good as I remembered. Such a sweet, mild taste. I love it.

Since Zach and his wife are leaving soon, and going on vacation even sooner, we had a small gift exchange the other night. It was such a fun time to spend with the people who have really become my family over the last few months. It's going to be hard to see them go. But I will always have a part of them here with me.

Especially Zach, since he left me enough clothes for me to postpone washing for a whole week. I doubled the number of t-shirts I own in a week.

I know this is mostly just stuff that I've done, and not what I'm thinking. But I don't know that I'm exactly sure what I'm thinking right now anyways. I need to take a little time and sort through it all. I have a lot of joy in my heart right now. I love this country and this city. I love the people I know here. I am really looking forward to seeing Italy soon (more to come on that). I am ready to meet God all over again.

And I'm late.

Happy Birthday to Me!

The bookmark that Cynthia stuck in the Bible she gave me. The Bible is here with me, in pieces. The bookmark, too, has seen better days.
No, I'm not trying to get a second birthday. Gouge already beat me to that trick. I'm just celebrating my "REBirth-day." After a couple years of watching a group of strange high school kids act out their faith, countless hard questions and emotional conversations with a special girl, and reading through the dusty Bible I found in my house, I finally gave my life to Jesus on Dec. 2nd of 1999.

I was driving home from work on interstate 77 in Columbia, SC, just crossing under the Percival Rd. exit sign when the truth of my sin and Christ's redemptive work became real to me. I remember the first words that I really heard from God and the first words God really heard from me. I said, "I'll never get this life right. I can't do this." God said back, "No you can't. Just give it all over to me." The only response I could give was, "You're right. I give it all to you. I can't do this anymore. Not alone."

That's how it started.

Since then it's been a wild and beautiful ride. I've conquered sin and felt conquered by it. I've felt close to God and far from him. I've been a part of great things and been a part of active rebellion. Daily it's a struggle.

We're asked to believe so many contradictions. God chooses us and we choose God. Jesus was fully man and Jesus was fully God. I am a sinner and I am righteous. So many times I feel that one of these "opposites" is pulling me. I think about myself now and it's really easy to see myself as a sinner. There are a lot of times when it is really hard for me to see myself as righteous. In the same way, I hear almost everyday about how Jesus was just a man. And though it is true that he was a man, he wasn't JUST a man. And during this time of year, when my spiritual birthday comes around, I look back on my life and my story. And sometimes I can't draw a clear line between what I chose and what chose me.

But that's what gives me comfort. Knowing that the God I worship is far more wise than I am helps me trust in his perfect plan. I didn't know what that plan was on Dec. 1st, 1999, but I have been learning a little more everyday since. Looking back over my last eight years is a somber and exciting time. Success and failure. Victory and Defeat. Faithfulness and unfaithfulness. The only constant has been the love and grace of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

To him be the glory.

Tarsus, Ultimate, and Don't Close Your Eyes in the Shower

The last tourist stop for my friends was Tarsus. I'll go ahead and say it now, I was tired pretty much the whole time. We had a good time, but it's all a bit fuzzy to me. We, again, left way too early for me. The first stop was the Roman Road. It's a road that has been there for over a thousand years. There have been a few famous people walk along this road throughout history. Here's a short list for you: Marc Antony, Cleopatra, Paul, Barnabas, Myself, Julius Caesar, and anyone else passing between Rome, Istanbul (Constantinople), Anatolia, Galatia, or Cappadocia on their way to Antioch, Jerusalem, Syria, or Jerusalem by land. Pretty impressive. It's a favorite spot of mine because of how quiet it is. It's far away from anything and on top of a good ridge. You can't hear anything from up there. It's very peaceful.

On the road again.
From there it was on to the city of Tarsus. I can't remember what order we hit everything in, since every time I've been there I've taken a different route. But we saw all the following sites.

Cleopatra's Gate
Cleopatra's Gate was built to welcome it's namesake, Cleopatra, to Tarsus. Marc Antony and her met here in 41 BC. Tarsus, like most cities of the time, was surrounded by walls. It had four gates, one to the north, east, and west, and this one, the Sea Gate, to the south. This is the only gate left standing today. Also, at one time it was right on the water, where as today, it's many miles inland.

I wish I had a dollar for every old church turned mosque/museum/pile of rocks that I've seen in this country.
St. Paul's church was once an Armenian church. It was claimed and restored by the Catholic church but the Turkish government later realized that the Catholic church had never held any rights to it. Today, it stands only as a relic of what once was. We stopped here for a quick history of the Christian church in Tarsus which is a pretty somber story.

The curly tailed S should be said with a SH sound. Very important for you to know that in order to understand the humor in this story.
Ulu Camii means Grand Mosque in Turkish. Every city has numerous mosques, but each city also has one that is the greatest and grandest of all. Usually they pick the grand mosque based on which one is the oldest, biggest, or most noteworthy for whatever reason. This one, in Tarsus, has quite a history. It is said to be built on ground where Seth, Adam's son, lived, as well as the same ground where Mohammed's personal "prayer caller" lived. On top of that, it houses the graves of a couple famous locals.

The funny story here has to do with Seth. I was showing these pictures to a Turkish friend of mine a while back. It was before my Turkish had reached it's current level of fluency (beginner-mid anyone?), so we were speaking in a mix of Turkish and English. When I got to this picture my friend asked, "Do you know Şit?" The i makes more of an E sound, meaning that he said something close to "sheet" but also closely resembling other words. I laughed and explained to him what he had said. Then I answered, "No, I don't know şit."

Under a different mosque is, according to local tradition, the grave of the prophet Daniel.
Who would you hire to excavate such a great religious figure's grave? Your cousin, brother-in-law, and the guy that shined your shoes this morning of course!
The small handout we were given says that Daniel came to Tarsus "after a starvation." Not sure where that fits in the whole exile and return to Jerusalem story of the Bible, but it's worth a good laugh. They have finished excavating what they believe to be his tomb, but we may never know. They can't open it to see who it is because the two people who have approached the tomb have both fainted. I wonder what would happen if they were ever able to open it? Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark anyone?

Shahmeran, the Snake... King?
Next we stopped in front of the statue of Shahmeran. This is a local legend that I have yet to get straight. As you can see from the statue, they depict him as a man. The first story I was told was that he fell in love with the daughter of the local king and was killed when he fell in the bath house were she was bathing. This bath house supposedly still has the red spots to prove that his blood was spilled there. However, after doing some research, the most credible story I have found is that Shahmeran should actually be considered the Snake Queen. She is mostly depicted as a half woman, half snake in ancient paintings. She was the goddess of wisdom and of secrets. According to legend, she was found by a man who had fallen in a well. She allowed him to leave on one condition, that he not tell of her location. The man could not keep his mouth shut and the Sultan heard of her location. The Sultan was ill and had been told that the only cure was eating Shahmeran's flesh. The Sultan had the Snake Queen killed and boiled. An evil adviser drank some broth first and was poisoned by his greed and died. The Sultan drank next and was cured of his illness. The man who had found Shahmeran drank last and was given great wisdom and went on to be the Sultan's top adviser.

Make that two dollars in Tarsus alone!
You can just see the edge of it on the right hand side of this picture. Right near the Shahmeran statue is another old church turned mosque. I can think of at least two more in Adana and two more in Istanbul that I've visited just like it. Sad.

The big pile of old rocks in the picture is the remains of an old Turkish bath. It was actually a Roman bath, since Tarsus was governed by Rome at the time and the Turks were still in Central Asia somewhere, but Roman baths have such a bad connotation to them. Turkish baths are much more refined.

What's that? Another Roman road?
Sadly, it seems that the Roman roads around here are in better shape than the modern ones! During my short stint with the Georgia Department of Transportation, I learned that our modern roads don't last very long. Granted, they do have massive cars and trucks driving over them almost constantly. But still, this thing is in great condition hundreds (and possibly at least a thousand) years later.

The story is that they were digging to build a parking garage and unearthed this gem. It's right in the center of the city. It was one of the main roads, this one running east and west, to each city gate. The center road is made of black, volcanic rock, which is very hard, to absorb the punishment of being traveled on. It is arched, to allow rain water to drain off into the ditches to the side. Also, the sewer system under the road is still in use today by some parts of the city. You can't really see in the picture, but behind that tree branch is a market center with granite columns. More than likely they were brought in from far away, since we don't have any granite here, for some special occasion. Also, on some of the stonework, you can see crosses, showing the Christian influence that was once here in the city. The road probably continues on for miles. We'll never know, since we can't relocate the whole city. In a place like Tarsus, if you dig anywhere for long enough, you'll find something ancient.

"They come here for salvation."
That's part of the story Mr. G was telling his tour group. We eventually found out that they were from the local air force base, but not before we got to take some wild guesses about where they were from and whether they knew this dude was full of crap or not. We were at St. Paul's Well. This is an old well in the area of Tarsus that they believe was where Paul lived. Whether it's actually his neighborhood or not, no one can know for sure. But Mr. G, short for the Turkish word for "trust," was anything but trustworthy. He was telling his tour group a bunch of crap about how the water from the well gives salvation to Christians. Ally busted out her Bible and was about to lay the smack down when we finally made contact with someone from the group. She was a nice lady who said she was a believer and knew it was crap, so we felt better about the whole situation.

Nice view from the table.
Next was a lunch stop at the waterfall restaurant. They serve some really good stir fry type stuff that we all really love. It's Ally's favorite dish and this is the best place around to get it. Not only is the food good, but the view is pretty nice too. After filling our stomachs and taking a few pictures at the waterfall, it was time to head home.

We grabbed a "taxi" at the restaurant. Actually I think one of the waiters just yelled at his brother to take us to the train station. On the way, Steve was trying to learn how to blow a bubble inside a bubble with his chewing gum. The pressure was just too much and he ended up shooting his gum into the floorboard. But, no worries, he just picked it up and put it back in his mouth. That's my kind of guy. We had a short wait in the train station before we headed home.

Again, I love this country.

We didn't have many Turks show up to play ultimate that day, but we had enough foreigners to have a good game. We tried a new field which had been lit up the week before, but my attempts to get the lights turned on were unsuccessful. We had a good time though and I think it was good for my local friends to see some girls playing. It's hard to cross that gender boundary in this part of the country. I don't know that we ever will, but maybe now that they've seen that girls can play, and play well I might add, maybe they'll try to recruit some for us.

It was sad to see the group go. Not only was it a nice break from the everyday grind here, but it was very refreshing to have people come in with the energy and excitement they had. They brought a bit of joy with them that really brightened up the place for those few days. It was a great blessing to share life with them, even if it was just for a short while. Thanks for everything and I hope you come again someday!

Changing gears totally, I wanted to share a quick story with you. We don't have a hot water heater in our house. A lot of apartments don't. Instead, they have solar powered water heaters on the roof to provide their hot water. We don't have one of those either. In fact, the only hot water I have in my house is provided by a small little box that is mounted on the wall of our shower. The water goes in cold and comes out in varying degrees of warmth. It's usually very good. There's only one problem with it... it is a major drain on our electrical system. It's such a drain that you can't have anything else running at the same time as it is, or else it will flip the breaker for the whole house!

Case in point: I was enjoying a nice warm shower the other evening. It's been cold here for the past couple weeks and the shower is one of the few places where I can warm up. I was enjoying it so much that I just closed my eyes and let the water run over my head. It was so nice and warm. Then, all of a sudden, it was ICE COLD! I let out a girlish squeal and opened my eyes to find myself in total darkness. After a quick moment of "Oh my gosh, I've been blinded by the cold water," I realized that the breaker had been flipped. I had to dry off and walk all the way out to the stairwell of our building to turn our power back on. What else was pulling the power in our apartment, you ask? Our mini-fridge and two laptops. I might've been charging my cell phone too. I'll have to be sure and unplug that next time.