Propempo International

Every weekday morning we climb the staircases to class. We experience a melange of feelings as we go. The ancient building which houses the language school has been modernized into the 20th century, but certainly not the 21st.

Floor levels are numbered in the typical European style. Ground level is "zero"; the next level is 1st floor; etc. At the ground level, the stairs are wide and sweep around the tiny exposed shaft of the tiny cubicle elevator wanna-be. The French prefer staircases that sweep around an arc rather than having landings for sets of stairs in between floor levels.

At the ground level, the stairs are wide and the foot tread long. As the flights ascend, the stair tread gets smaller, narrower, steeper. We go to the 3rd (Euro.) floor, 92 steps up. Our present host home is on a similar level without even a wanna-be elevator and is 72 steps up.

As we ascend we are filled with trepidation and awe. Awe that God would place us here. Awe that God would create such a strange and wonderful language, however indecipherable it may seem right now. Trepidation that we will freeze up the first time the teacher calls on us. Trepidation over the accumulated weight of skills to be tested in each weekly exam, rapidly approaching like a dark cold front on the horizon of every ascension.

Thanks for your persistent prayers! Bon courage!

David