Big World Small Boat

Private Diary of A Priest. OK, so we're not all angels...Everyone needs a place to get things off their chest! And yes, I do talk to God about it all! Even He has a sense of humour! Want proof? Well, he made me, didn't He? Oh, one last thought-If you don't like what I've written, please keep in mind - it's MY diary. Go write your own!

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Location: England, United Kingdom

I've been serving children in crisis for over twenty five years. My goals are not to raise money, but to find organisations and individuals who can help change lives! What may be outdated equipment for you could change the life of a child in Eastern Europe! To learn more please visit our site at: www.ProjectNewLife.org

Tuesday

Usted Habla Inglés Mate?

No matter how often I travel, the greatest part of the journey is coming home. I’ve certainly travelled enough to be prepared for just about anything that should pop up and I consider myself relatively adept at switching between cultures and languages – even ones I have never studied.

But the greatest thrill for me is always in coming home. There is something comforting about returning to your native language where you no longer have to quickly translate and sometimes struggle to interpret what the person standing before you is saying.

And I suppose, just as I last experienced, the foreign scents, spicy foods, and exotic music can sometimes be a bit invasive when your body isn’t exactly psyched-up for it.

Finally, when you have made all the necessary psychological and physical adjustments to adapt to all those differences, you begin to feel as if you have a more sure footing. But then, while you’re in that foreign country, your confidence is dashed when you encounter people who purportedly speak the same language as yourself, but with a dialect that is so foreign and so mind numbing that you can’t find a single word they speak in a translation guide or dictionary! And so it is when we embark on travel to foreign lands.

Homeward bound! The proud colours of our nation's flag adorn the aircraft that is to take me home. And you can almost feel your body release a collective sigh when you hear the crew welcome you on board. Ahhh, those words of greeting are almost like a salve to the heart.

And as I wing my way back from Miami to London, words I can understand, words that I don’t have to translate, words that reflect my heritage gently envelope me, reminding me that I’m almost home:

‘Sir, your choice for dinner tonight is either the chicken tikka masala or the curried lamb, which would you prefer?’

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