When integrity pays, it's in cash.

  The older I get, the more I realize that in the real world, it isn't convenient to do the right thing. I've coined the phrase, "Integrity doesn't pay." Well, I'm not quite sure that I made that up, but this post demonstrates the opposite anyway.
  Tuesday night, I took the bus home from basketball.  I take the bus after basketball because I don't feel like walking the 2 miles home.  Call me a sissy, but I'm tired after basketball, not to mention that I've already walked 5 miles that day (to school and back, then to basketball).
  For this story to make any sense, I will need to explain the bus system here in Dijon.  On the bus there are three doors.  One in the front, one in the middle, and one in the back.  When the bus stops (at a designated bus stop) you have to push the little green button in order for the door to open.  When you get on the bus, you don't necessarily have to buy a ticket from the driver at the front.  There are small orange boxes strategically placed around the bus that allow you to punch your prepaid ticket.  But, many people opt for the monthly pass that allows you to ride any bus in the city as many times as you so desire, no ticket-punching necessary.
   Some of my more astute readers will have realized that one could perhaps get on and ride the bus without paying.  Indeed, it is possible, and I have done it before.   (Once when I forgot to punch my ticket, and once when I forgot the ticket and didn't know how to buy one.  But, later that month I bought a monthly pass anyway.)
  I learned that if one is caught, one pays a fine.  While talking with some of my basketball-playing comrades, I learned the amounts of said fines. (They increase with each offense).   I let everyone know that I paid every time I took the bus.  They weren't super surprised, but I was greeted by responses like "Well, I'll pay when I'm rich, but now..."  One guy told me on the way home that he had already payed the fine twice.  I had thought to myself, "Self, these guys do it all the time and never get caught.  Plus, it's a Tuesday night.  Why would there be a check?" But, as always, I bought a ticket and found my seat.
  When the bus reached my stop, I tried to get off, but the doors wouldn't open, and there were men in black uniforms at each door.  When the doors finally opened, they asked for my ticket, which I showed them, then I headed home without a problem. They were the control officers.  I don't know what happened to the other guy, but it probably involved a hefty fine.

So, sometimes, integrity does pay.  

All the busses in Dijon look like this. 

Photo credits: Google images.

Where I come from...ish

Perhaps some of you are interested in the specifics of this town and my university. If not, then this post will be intensely boring:

  Dijon is a city of 151,000 people (downtown) and about 250,000 (with "Greater Dijon" included.)  For those of you in Indiana, that's about the size of Ft. Wayne.  Dijon is a rich city with a lot of old money.  It is the site of the capital of Duchy of Burgundy, and still the capital of the region of Bourgogne (Burgundy).  Due to the affluence of its inhabitants, Dijon is a very safe city.  This is strange for me, as I associate cities with crime and danger. 

   Some of the quicker readers will have thought earlier, "Hey Dijon, isn't that a kinda mustard?"  In fact, it is.  It is from here and is consumed in great quantities.  I really like it, it's spicier than regular mustard and just has more body.  (I don't know what that means, but it seemed like the right description.)
  Here in Dijon, I attend L'Université de Bourgogne (affectionately called l'UB).  I find this amusing because UB is also the acronym for my school in Argentina (Universidad de Belgrano).  There are about 27,400 students in all.  It's a pretty diverse campus with 126 nationalities represented.
  I, and the other grace students, form part of the CIEF (Centre International d'Études Français).  The Center of International French Studies takes up less than three small prefab buildings.  Over 1000 students study there between the spring, fall, and summer terms.
 If you wanna see what my school looks, type in "Rue Edgar Faure, Dijon, France" at google.com/maps.  Check out the street view feature.
  My home address is 14 Rue Vauban, Dijon, if you would like to see what the outside of my house looks like.

 
Sources
Wikipedia
http://ressources.campusfrance.org/guides_etab/etablissements/en/univ_dijon_en.pdf
Google Maps

Yes, I am alive.

 Hello blogland.
Just thought I'd let you all know that I am alive, in case some of you were wondering.  I realized that perhaps I needed to update a blog when Grandma had to write another email because I hadn't written back in several days.... (Oops)

Amber took this candid photo
Too cool not to share.
The cathedral in the background is Notre Dame. 

  So a quick peak at the life of Will:
  School is in full swing, and I had my first midterm yesterday.  I felt confident when I finished (that's never a good sign).  I'll probably get some results tomorrow.
  Elizabeth, Amber, and I went to Paris on Friday to see the GoEncounter team from Grace.  We spent most the day with them, but did some site-seeing on our own.  We took the cheap train so we had a fixed return time, and that lead to the three of us running from metro to metro in order to catch our train back to Dijon.  Praise the Lord, we made it, with about 2 minutes to spare.  It was pretty miraculous because we didn't have to wait more than about 60 seconds at our various other boarding sites.

Liz, Amber, Prof Schram, and I on the Eiffel Tower

  

Last night, I finally went to intramural basketball.  The Lord worked things out so that I had everything I needed. (Medical exam, sports ID card).  It had been about 6 weeks since I had played basketball.  It was soo refreshing, and extremely exhausting.  It was neat to meet some students from Africa that were on my team.  

  The system was a little different from Grace's Intramural Program.  Tuesday nights are co-ed basketball.  About 60 students showed up, then the coach had us split into 9 teams.  He then drew up a quick schedule which utilized all 3 courts and gave every team six 10 minute games.  I think I only sat out about 6 of those 60 minutes. Needless to say, I'm sore today.
 Well, that's all folks.  Hope your days are as blessed as mine.

It's been about a month...

  It's been about a month, for a lot of things.  February 2012 has been one of the most distinctive months of my life thus far, for the following reasons:
  -I've been in the country of France since February 1st.
  -I've officially had a girlfriend since January 29th.
  -I've literally not been a teenager since January 22nd.
Needless to say, each of these things has a boatload of implications.  I'm not entirely sure what they all are, and I am obviously not going to share them all with you.  Interestingly enough, I have had a constant in my life that does not change, and that is my Savior.  He's the same no matter where I am, who I'm with, or what I do.  These big changes in my life are significant, but the things the Lord has been teaching me don't vary.
  Before leaving Indiana, several times, the importance of sharing the Gospel seemed to come to my attention through many different ways (different speakers/preachers, books, and the Bible).  I realized that evangelism needs to be a lifestyle.  (Not that I didn't know that before, but I seem to forget it.)  When I arrived in France, evangelism was again an important theme.  I say "again," but perhaps I should say "still."  Relational evangelism is a crucial part of the Christian life in any culture.  Obviously, the specifics will look different in different parts of the world, but the concept remains the same.
  The Lord has been teaching me about many things about relational evangelism, especially since I began college.  Sadly, I can't say that I have mastered the art.  (I also don't believe that's an art that one can master.) But, I do believe that I have taken steps in the right direction.  Study abroad has put me in situations where it is necessary.  Living in the Grace College bubble is conducive to a different kind of spiritual growth not always found in the real world, that I have been confronted with while away.

Things I think while waiting for class

I got to school a little early this morning, these are the thoughts that I jotted down on the iPod.
Language learning: Useful Phrases vs Straight Grammar
There are obvious pluses to learning useful phrases in a foreign language. In fact, it's completely necessary. You can't just jump into another culture and not learn how to say "Excuse me" and "where's the bathroom?" 
  So my question is this: where's the line to tell when it's time to tell the learner that "¿Cómo estás?" is the 2nd person singular familiar conjugation of the verb "to be" in present tense? Put it all together and it literally means, "How are you?"
  I mean it's kinda cool to figure out that kind of stuff on your own. For example, I thought the other day about "Au revoir" in French. "Voir" means "to see" so "revoir," "to see again." It's fun to make those discoveries on one's own, but perhaps I should've learned that earlier. 
  As usual, I'm just realizing that balance is the answer, and I just haven't found it yet. As I think about language teaching/learning, this kind of stuff mulls around in my brain.

Toto, I'm pretty sure we're still not in Kansas.

   For all of you that were around for the first round of this year full of adventures, you may remember a post entitled "We're Not in Kansas Anymore, Toto..." It was just a few observations about differences between Argentina and Mexico.  Basically, it was my way of telling you all about the greeting-with-a-kiss in Argentina.
   This post is a little different. I almost entitled it "We're Not in Latin America Anymore, Toto,"  but one of the Grace students here is from Kansas, so I thought it was appropriate.
   Enough intro: Most of my life has been spent in Latin America.  I view that as an advantage in my life, and I think that it gives me a unique perspective.  However, I find that in my mind there are two regions of the world: The US and non-US.  One reason that I think I do this is that I like to spend time with MKs.  We share our experiences from around the world and realize that we have a ton in common.  We joke about bribing government officials and terrible roads and other things about the third world.
  One thing that I am realizing, is that I haven't had a lot of interaction with people from Europe.  Obviously, France is not the third world, but it is non-US. So, I wasn't worried about this trip very much because it's Round 2 of study abroad, the only difference is that I have to learn French.  Obviously, that is oversimplified.
  The cultural differences are sometimes hard for me to notice.  There are the obvious ones: clean streets, posted bus schedules, and little clocks at the bus stops to tell you when your bus will arrive.  But sometimes, you have to dig a little deeper, think a little harder.  For example in church today, the pastor began with a defense of God and why he didn't create evil.  I didn't think to much of it, it was a decent argument with solid illustrations.  But the cultural implications are much higher: In France, being able to debate and argue your point is very, very important.  The idea of just "talking" about something is somewhat unheard of.  Lots of discussions are more than just the interchanging of words.
   Another difference is the age of things here.  Dijon is an old town, I have been in catholic churches that were begun in the 11th or 12th century.  Honestly, it's mind-blowing.  It's strange for me to be in a place where the history from basically a thousand years ago is known and documented.  It makes me realize that that must be a factor in a culture's profile.  I haven't done the research, but I'm aching to learn about it.

"This is where character counts."

  In November of 2010, I had the privilege of being the host manager to Head Coach Winston Bennett and the Cougars of Mid-Continent University. Coach Bennett is probably the only coach that I have met that is classier than Coach Kessler. The previous season (09-10), Mid-Con had beaten Grace pretty badly, but last year, the tides had changed. Mid-Con had lost several starters and Grace was almost a different team with Bruce Grimm at point guard.

  The Cougars played well, but in the second half it became more and more evident that the Lancers had the upper hand. It came to a fairly critical point in the game, Mid-Con was behind by several scores, but the games wasn't out of reach yet. Then, the center missed a Lancer driving down the lane to score. It wasn't entirely his fault, but he was partially to blame, and I didn't judge him for the profanity that escaped his lips. What surprised me was Coach Bennet's actions. He proceeded to sub out the young man, sit him on the bench, and say in a stern voice, "This is where character counts." He didn't play again for the rest of the game.

   Needless to say, I was shocked. The coach had just taken out his team's best shot at making a comeback in that game, just for saying "damn." I'm not sure if they could have won even with this player, but in no way could they win without him. It was a gutsy, but admirable move by Coach Bennett.

Coach Winston Bennett 

  I thought that story was worth sharing, seeing as it came to mind. Yesterday, I had the opportunity of being humbled a couple of times, and Coach Bennett's words were ringing in my ears "This is where character counts." To say that I handled these situations with flawless integrity would be a lie, but that story was a good reminder of the importances of character.
  So the question probably stands, "What happened yesterday?" Nothing earth-shattering, I just didn't get the results I wanted on my placement test and didn't get a job I had applied for. Frustrating? yes. Disappointing? absolutely. End of the world? not in the slightest. God has reasons for the stuff that happens, not to mention that fact that He puts people in your life who care.  He is good and in control, but, apparently, I have short term memory loss.