I'm sitting here on my balcony and now that the clouds are starting to part, I am starting to see the vast expanse of Lake Geneva and the big town of Montreaux below. Caux is situated 20 minutes by train up the mountain---this old rickety, privately owned train...something out of a Disney movie....that literally gears its way up rather noisily to this old restored Belle Epoque hotel called Caux. This place is just as surreal. You walk in on the fourth floor to a vast grand reception area, and if it wasn't for the warm orange-y brown tones...this place would be considered even grander, luxurious. But instead, it feels like a warm, lived-in place, an approachable one, where you can put up your shoes and relax. This hasn't stopped half of us from spending the whole day saying "wow!"
My room is just as wonderful. After shuffling about in hostels, I am so thankful for a spacious room, a stable roommate. Emma is from Kenya, and others tell us we have one of the nicer rooms, one that was recently renovated. I haven't been to the other rooms yet.
The "wow" factor continues...as we meet one another. I think I've only met half the group so far. There are 20 of us Caux Scholars, and we are from all over...and we all seem excited and pleased with one another even though formal introductions are yet to come. A couple of us are missing...unable to get visas out of Gaza and one was murdered just 3 weeks ago as he was preparing to come here, targeted because of his pro-democracy involvement in Iraq. This has sobered many of us greatly, and in a strange way adds another layer of depth and meaning to the next four weeks.
Already in place is a conference; Caux hosts week-long conferences all summer long, and people are constantly shuffling in and out, shrinking and growing between 350 and 500. This week's called "Tools for Change" and I am checking out a workshop called "Honest Conversation" today. All the conferences have a tone of reconciliation, change, and the people here are equally from the world over, involved in amazing things and thankful to be here with other receptive idealistic ears. Breakfast this morning was with M. from Gaza, who could only leave because she had a US passport. She recounted to us the Palestinian plight first hand, and my heart cannot help but feel sobered. I think the whole month will be like this.
We start officially at lunch time, and consciously, I've decided to spend the morning alone to rest, to gather my thoughts, to re-focus on God and to ask him what he might have for me here. It feels like a real privilege to be here, and my heart already feels wider, my eyes bigger. Of course, this is why I've come, but it's strange to feel surprised by what I expected, a good strange....I'm hopeful that there is more for me that I thought.
It's funny because I was already feeling rather wow-ed....feeling rather thankful to travel, to see a good part of Europe, to meet up with good friends along the way. To see parts of the past---in the form of ruins, buildings, art---and the present (the World Cup, daily interactions with people, visits to German and Dutch church groups)---and now the future? I was already feeling awed yesterday...when by in a strange way, I ended up in what felt like the middle of nowhere (more so because I got lost)....at what turns out to be the Ecumenical Institute of the World Council of Churches (WCC)---the very one we learned about in my history and theology classes. I left a suitcase with a friend of a friend, Stephanie who works at the Institute putting on conferences, and had a delightful lunch with her, as she shared with me roughly the state of the WCC, the ecumenical movement, the challenges they have to worship together, as super-diverse parts of the church come together. The conference she was currently organizing was one that gathered Evangelicals and the Eastern Orthodox on being human----I would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that one. And it was neat, I got to meet several orthodox folks, one from Bulgaria, one from Georgia....and a Baptist Bishop from the Republic of Georgia. I'm not joking here. This guy looked orthodox to me, down to his robe, his beard....he even paints icons---but he is Baptist. Stephanie says that no one is as they seem and I am finding this to be true. The Bulgarian guy was surprised by me because I had no church denomination. When I told him I became a Christian in college, he looked at me and said: "It's like you fell straight out of the sky." Perhaps not exactly, but the sentiment humors me greatly.
The other funny comment made was in a cab to the train station. (Trains! Planes! Automobiles! It all happened yesterday.) I ended up sharing a cab with two Canadian guys who are from all places, Whistler. (I've bumped into lots of Canadians in Europe!) We were talking about accents, and they actually told me I sound very Canadian. Well, that's a first.
