Wednesday-A Day by the Sea

So we went to Aegina today for some team bonding time. Aegina is one of the Greek Islands. We took a ferry there. I love love the Sea. As we pulled up to Aegina I noticed that it seemed to look like a Nevada island (if Nevada had an island). Actually, most of Greece looks like Nevada to me. It is so hot and very dry, very much like the desert. The city part of Athens is pretty dirty. I am not a huge fan. Probably because we work in the not so nice areas, but the other day we took a hike up to Mount Muses which overlooks the city. It was absolutely breathtaking. I could see Mars Hill and the Acropolis right next to it. In Greece, they cannot build over any ruins or special places, so it was easy for me to imagine this place as it was Jesus time. In Athens, you can be walking and then "Oh hi ancient ruins." The people here walk amongst so many years of history and culture. It does not get dark til very late and the city keeps the area bright. It is not all dirty, there are areas filled with laughter and dancing. God is so good. I cannot get over all the different kinds of beauty I have been seeing. It really was awe inspiring to sit upon that Mount and look down on Mars Hill and picture Paul preaching about the God of the Isrealites. Mars Hill is right next to the Acropolis and it overlooks the entire city. What a wonderful place to tell a people about the one true living God; on a hill overlooking the beauty that God created. The land is so vast and filled with sounds of small animals and insects chirping in the trees. One could not deny there is a God from this vantage point. I cannot wait to climb Mars Hill, go to the Acropolis, and the Acropolis museum. All my studies dealing with Greek and Roman literature is coming alive here. Thank you UCSD.
Anyways, back to Aegina. I loved standing at the top of the boat, closing my eyes, and just feeling the wind. Considering its been over a hundred degrees most of the time we have been here ( all without air conditioning). The sea breeze was immensely refreshing. Once again, I was struck by the greatness of my Lord. I guess this seems to be a theme for me on this trip. I am really finding out who God is, and in turn who I am in Him. Everything I see causes me to praise Him. I am more of a reserved person, even in my expression of faith. I have never seen myself as someone who could just go out and proclaim who God was unsolicited to the world. I guess I am more relational. But there is something welling deep within me. Something that I cannot contain. There is this overwhelming joy and passion. A love that so consumes me that I cannot do anything but praise God for all that He is and all that He has done for me.
Aegina was beautiful. The little town was placed right next to port by all the boats. I loved looking at all the fishing boats and the homes that were so colorful. It was beauty that a city by the sea could only hold. My favorite building was painted bright yellow with bright blue trim. There were window boxes filled with flowers and on the exterior someone had painted flowers. Outside sat a antique table with chairs that two old ladies sat at. Mom, Kathy, Grandma, you would have loved it. This is where I fell in love with the Greek people. There were so many old men and women on this island. They sat at the cafes overlooking the sea talking and enjoying life together. I began to watch and appreciate their culture, their community. The old men would get into groups and the old women in another group. I do not know what they talked about, but the sense of community was so strong. All their old faces, wrinkled and leathery from years in the sun, hold so many stories and so much history. Greece is not just a land filled with landmarks of history, but it is a land full of people with a rich personal culture and history. What had that old man looking at the Sea in silence, with dark skin and piercing blue eyes, do for most of his life? What had he seen? Had he loved a woman deeply? What pain had he felt? What brought him joy? I try to discretely get photos of the people, but its hard. I think I am just going to start asking if I may take their picture.
We rented bikes and biked around the island. Do I even need to describe the feeling of riding a bike along the Mediternean? I looked out at the blue Sea and admired all the boats and the colors. The island got even more brown and desert-like as we left the village, but it was colored by bright flowers such as magenta bougainvilleas . We stopped at a beach cafe by the Sea. It was SOOO hot. Immediately jumped in the water and stayed there until I was pruning. We had lunch next to the Sea and relaxed by the beach then headed back to the village so we could leave. I so enjoyed my time there. It was great to bond with the team. The full time missionaries explained to us that this ministry is so emotionally draining that it is really important that they all take trips and time for themselves or they will go crazy. When you deal with so much darkness and pour so much of yourself into others, it would make sense that you would need time to care for yourself.
I am so thankful for the love of Christ. There is nothing like knowing that you are loved no matter what. I think it may be the single most important thing someone can realize in their life. You are loved. Wholly and completely just as you are. No matter what, there is one who has an unending love for you.
"Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away. If one were to give all the wealth of his house for love, it would be utterly scorned."
Song of Solomon 8:6-7

Light and Darkness

Today started out with Greek lessons. I now completely understand why they say "Its all Greek to me". This language is ridiculously hard. We do not use the same alphabet.The p does not make a p sound. It makes a rr sound etc.. The woman would call on each of us and have us sound out words based on the alphabet we had just learned. Everyone tried to pretend like they were super focused on writing so she would not call on us, but she spared none. All in all, we spent about an hour butchering the Greek language.

After our Greek Lesson, a Nigerian woman came in to talk to us about the specific culture of the Nigerian women we would be working with. Nigeria has a population of about 120 million. Of this large group of people, there are more then 250 ethnic groups and 400 different dialects. Because of this vast diversity of language, the main language of Nigeria is English. This is why we will be working with them specifically. We can actually interact and have a conversation with the girls. In Nigeria, the North is mostly Muslim, and they follow Sri Law. The girls cannot leave the house without permission from a male figure, thus they do not really receive any education outside of domestic duties. In the South, there is a mixture of Muslims and Christians. Here, the women are looked to to provide for their families. They often run the businesses, and support their families. The girls do get an education, but this is often interrupted by the fact that they must help out with the family business. This leaves no time for homework and ever actually learning anything. Arranged marriages are commonplace in Nigeria. The woman who spoke with us had actually had one. In the South the woman is allowed to choose after a period of courtship if she likes who her family picked. In the North, the woman has no say.

Most of the women we will be working with all come from a small SW region called Edo State. Surprisingly, the reason so many are from the same area is because family members or friends of family members are the ones who go back to their homeland and recruit. A cousin or an uncle may go back to his village with large sums of money and offer a relative a chance to go to Europe. A chance to have wealth, travel, and take care of their families. This creates a endless circle of prostitution with people within this part of Nigeria. They are often told they are going to go to the bars and just "dance". Even in some cases, the mothers pressure the girls. They see other girls who became prostitutes and come back bearing gifts, and they become envious. "Look at her mother and how rich she dresses. Do you want me to die in poverty?" One woman that was rescued from the streets was told by an uncle that she would just do hair for the other girls. That turned out to be a lie. The girls are mostly illiterate. They are primary school dropouts who cannot read or write. They are also mostly teenagers. We are tld we will see as young as twelve. It costs about 2,000 euros to get them to Greece. At most it would cost 5,000 euros. The girls are required and told they must pay back an amount upwards of 60,000 euros.

Traditional worship is still in practice today in Nigeria. Traditional worship is what we call voodoo. There are still JuJu priests that the people go to with prayers and requests. They are often required to make sacrifices or pay based on the requests. In some rare cases, depending on what is wanted, even human sacrifice is required. The madams and pimps use this against these women. Before they take them away, they bring the girl to the JuJu doctor. He preforms rituals and incantations on them. They are forced to take oaths of secrecy from ever disclosing what they are doing in Greece or what their pimps are making them do. They are told that if they break these oaths they will be cursed. Terrible things will happen to their families and to themselves. Often the pimps will bring all the materials to preform these spells on the women while they are in the brothels. These women are in bondage in every way possible: physically, mentally, and spiritually. The threat of demonic attack often makes it hard for the girls to open up. They are terrified of the witchcraft that binds them.

One of of the men in our team was able to go out on an outreach with another team before us. The theme of the outreach was light and darkness. Ironically enough, when everyone came together for a time of worship and prayer before going out into the streets and brothels, the power went out. Then some of the women experienced their purses getting slashed so that thieves could steal what was inside. What a way to start an outreach.
After worship, they split into teams. One team went to the bars and another went to the brothels. Chris was on the team that went to the brothels. The men here have the duty of praying the entire time and watching out for the safety of the team girls as they go out and talk to the prostituted women. The men are not allowed to speak with the girls. They were not having alot of luck as the team was turned away brothel after brothel.

Finally, at the second to last brothel, the Madame let her girl talk to a team member. The prostituted woman was a Greek girl who had been in the brothel for awhile. This woman began to open up, although she could only get parts of her story out at a time because she would have to leave for a little while to preform her services, and then she would return. She told them that after she worked her shifts in the brothel she goes home to a tiny one room apartment. As soon as she is in the room, she shuts and locks the door, collapses on the floor, closes her legs, and pulls them tightly to her chest. She just lays there and holds herself in a little ball. She said that it is only in this time, lying on the cold floor in a shabby apartment, that she is herself. It is the only time she knows who she is.

What do you even say to a story like that? I cannot picture a worse prison. I cannot imagine going through life just existing. Living in a self-induced daze in order to not crumble, in order to just survive. Going from one place of darkness to another, never entering into the light. The only place this woman is able to find some sliver of comfort is in a dark room where she still suffers alone. She must hold on to herself so tightly because if she lets go she is not safe. Many of the girls suffer terribly from nightmares. I am sure this woman is no stranger to night terrors. Her life is one.

The last thing that this woman said to the team member was that they (Nea Zoi) were doing the Lord's work. They should continue and persevere in this work. The woman said that although she was too lost, that Nea Zoi would be able to save many girls. She said that all of these people working with Nea Zoi would be blessed. She proclaimed that not only would God bless them for what they were doing, but He would bless their children and their grandchildren and teh generations to come. Later on, they learned that this woman's name meant light.

Let us pray that this woman and the other woman who live in this horrible nightmare see the light of Christ. May they know the love and joy that we find in our Lord Jesus. May they rest and be comforted in his arms. May Light pierce their darkness and set them free.

Isaiah 50:10
10 Who among you fears the LORD and obeys the word of his servant? Let him who walks in the dark, who has no light, trust in the name of the LORD and rely on his God.

Psalm 4:6
6 Many are asking, "Who can show us any good?" Let the light of your face shine upon us, O LORD.

Psalm 36:9
9 For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.

Into the Brothels

There are times in our lives that merit silence. This happens to be one of those times for me. I do not know if I can accurately put into words what I feel or what I have learned so far. I have only had the orientation and first teaching about what we are dealing with and already my heart is heavy.

Did you know that there are 270,000 documented victims of human trafficking in the EU? The UN states that you must times this by 30 to really get an accurate picture of the amount of people in bondage in the EU alone. Eighty percent of the victims are women and fifty percent are children. Human trafficking is the second most lucrative illegal business behind drug trafficking. It brings in about 45 billion dollars a year. That happens to be more then Coca-Cola, Walmart, and McDonalds all make... combined. Of the people trafficked into the EU each year 90% end up in the sex industry. Only 1-2% of victims are rescued, and only 1 in 100,000 europeans involved in trafficking are convicted.

In relation to Greece, it is estimated that a little over half the sexually active men in Greece participate in sex services. It is not uncommon for a father to take his son to the "family prostitute" for his first sexual encounter. We walked around the brothels, and went to one of the streets we would be doing outreaches on during the women's working hours (11 pm - 3am). The white light that shines over the doors at the brothels means there is a woman in there working. In each brothel, one woman and one madam, with an 8 hour shift. The men go to the brothel, the woman steps out from behind a curtain, half-naked, and they access her. If she is not what they want, they move on to the next brothel. A prostitutes life is one of rejection and judgement. These brothels run 24/7. Because of the economic decline, the women cannot be too disparaging in what their clients request of them. Thus, they have to do more and more degrading and risky things that these perverts request.

How can a woman stay in this? How do they allow themselves to get involved? Do they do this to themselves? Is it their choice? Honestly, I do not know how you even begin to differentiate any of these questions. Many of these women wanted out of their country, they were starving, they needed money for their families, they had no where to go, they were alone, they were lied to, and they were taken advantage of. One of the women that works here full time said "It is humbling to see how these women are just a few bad life circumstances away from being me. Look what I have and look what they have." 90% of women who are apart of the sex industry have been sexually abused. This realm is full of woman who are unwanted, shamed, and alone. Many do not leave because they cannot go home, they have shamed their entire family. They leave or they will be beat. They have been arrested so many times that there is no way they are getting papers. How would they even be able to support themselves on the jobs that they would get outside of prostitution? They have no skills. They live life in fear and disillusionment. Last November a woman was beat to death because she was not bringing in enough money.

My heart breaks for these girls. Many are between the ages of 14 -20. That is the age of my little sister and I. As a girl, I know the desire to be loved and cherished. To twirl, to play, and be delighted in. We all have the desire to be the love of someone's life. We want to be known and wanted. Oh, the joy that comes from being adored by one's father... by others. To know that you are safe and secure and that no one can take that from you. Is this not the desire of every girl deep down inside? Do we not all long to be princesses in our own fairytale? The women that work with these girls say a common comment of the girls as to why they can't leave prostitution is "Who would want me? I am worthless. " I am worthless. I am nothing. I am not loved. I am not cherished. I am soiled. I am unworthy. Who would want me? Who would love me? I am not precious. I am not beautiful. I am alone, and I am worthless. This grieves me. All I can picture is a little girl about the age of my baby sister or one of my little cousins sitting in the window of this brothel with so much hurt in their eyes thinking these thoughts. Believing these thoughts about themselves. No hope. No future of happiness. No true life. The tender innocence and youth torn from them, only to be replaced by a bitterness and hardness that will flavor the rest of their lives.

It took everything within me not to sob during this meeting. I just wanted my Dad at that moment. I cannot handle the thought of anyone being unloved. It took me awhile before I could even talk because I knew if I opened my mouth I was going to lose it. The Lord really spoke to me as I prayed and walked in silence for the next hour.

"Shelbi, do you know that I love you?" "Yes, Lord" "Do you think I love you anymore then I love these girls?" "No, of course not Lord." "Who am I Shelbi?" "You are Lord, You are Father and Saviour, You are gracious and kind and loving." "Shelbi who am I?" "You are the one who comes to bring life and life abundantly. You bring hope to the hopeless." "Shelbi, Who am I?" "Lord, you are Love." "Now go and abide in me."

Jesus wants these girls. He longs to love them. He longs to bring them hope and joy. Who will bring the light to their darkness?

"The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound" -Isaiah 61:1

(quoted again in Luke 4:18)

Welcome to Greece

So I have finally arrived in Greece. A very large greek man has already tried to set me up with his son since being here. While we were on the plane the father got up from his seat next to me, told his son to come over, that I was from California, and to sit down. He then proceeded to come up at different times in the flight to tell his son to tell me (as if I could not hear) that they would pick me up in Athens whenever I wanted and show me Greece. The poor boy seemed embarassed, but he was very nice so it was not too awkward. Of course this story does not end here considering I am involved. As we were landing, I was telling the boy about how alot of people have thrown up next to me. Like 4 people. I would say that is a lot considering they were all do to motion sickness. Most of them being boys that had a crush on me. In Italy, I had a little boy throw up at the beginning of the bus ride next to me so it seemed I was cursed. We had laughed about this until I noticed he was sweating. Now he was a very large Greek boy so I thought this had to do with it, but no.. sure enough the poor guy started puking. I nicely gave him my bag when he needed another one. Poor guy. Moral of the story, if you get motion sickness at all, do not sit next to me.

Athens is quite a busy city full of graffitti. Like alot of the historic cities I have been in lately its interesting to see all the historical landmarks and ruins just sitting there in the middle of the city, everyone living there completely oblivious to the tremendous history and age of the places and things most of us just learn about in books. I really cannot wait to see Mars Hill, the temple of Zeus and the Acropolis.

I am staying at a missionaries house while the family is on furlough. Its so nice! The girls on our team are great, and I am so looking forward to getting to know them. My heart is full after so much great fellowship with Pastor Aidoo and his family, as well as great time spent with my amazing sorority sisters. I cannot help but sing all the time in my head the song about rejoicing. I just feel so happy :-) Below I will put the verse that has really been on my heart lately. Tomorrow we have our orientation and we will walk the brothels. So it begins.

Philippians 4:4-7
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Cinque Terre- Example of God's Artistry

We went to Cinque Terre this weekend. Cinque Terre is actually five towns on the coast of Italy along the Mediterranean. You can hike to each of them once you get to the first one or you can just take a 2 minute train ride through the mountains. I was completely unprepared for what I saw. It was breathtaking, The first village we went to was Maranola. This was the one that when we googled Cinque Terre most the pictures came up from. Once we got off the train we did not know where to go, but sooon found the most gorgeous walk ever. We had to pay 5 Euro to walk to Maranola, but it was worth it. The walk of love or something di amore was what the pathway was called. It wound along the mountains and the sea. All along the walkways there was steel hearts and wire. On these things couples would place locks to signify their unending love for each other. We were definitely in a honeymoon spot. The village of Maranola is like one big hill. You walk up the streets in the midst of tall vibrant buildings of red, yellow, and blue. Olive oils, postcards, and homemade jewelry all line the streets. I loved peeking into the different stairwells and seeing how they wound up into the buildings and different doorways. Everyone in Italy hangs their Laundry outside their windows and it was no different here so you can always see an ample supply of laundry. I dont think they use dryers. Probably better for the clothes anyways. We had not reserved a room because we thought we could find one when we got to Cinque Terre. False. Turns out this place is a hotspot and since the villages were so small we were only able to get a room for one night in a different town. The tourist lady was nice enough to let us leave our luggage with her, so we changed into our bathingsuits grabbed our purses and headed down towards the water. We ate at a little restaurant first by the sea. I had ravioli seabass. It was amazing. Carbs carbs everywhere. The bread they serve at every restaurant is straight from their bakeries. I am almost not even hungry for a meal after I am done eating the bread haha. After we finished eating we hopped down to go swimming. I have never been anywhere so beautiful. There was no sand, just rocks. The water was a beautiful blue I cannot even describe. Crystal clear. I looked up a word to describe the color and all I got was Mediteranean Blue. It is so beautiful it has its own color. The girls and I went rock jumping into the water. We would look up at the green mountains and the colorful city and marvel at where we were. "OMG can you believe this" "this is so unreal" and "I feel like I am in a dream" were all phrases that were repeated over and over. After we swam and took pictures we headed up for our luggage and on to the next town. This town was called Corniglia. We stepped off the train and all we saw was sea and road. Where was Corniglia? The answer: Up. A few tourists from Oklahoma grabbed us and showed us the way. We could not see a town but we could see stairs that led into a mass of green. I looked at my little rollaway suitcase and wished it was a backpack. This was not a problem for long. The guys showing us how to get to Corniglia were from Oklahoma and later on I found out were Christians so there was no way they were going to let me carry my suitcase up the 370 stairs (we looked it up). The other girls turned down the offers for the boys to carry their things, but not me. I was all about that haha. Turned out two of the guys had been traveling since February. They had been all over, and not just in Europe, Africa too. As soon as we breached the green we still could not see a town. So we kept walking, and then there we were. Possibly the most quaint, picturesque town I have ever seen. Corniglia is built into the mountains and once you reach the city there is no place for cars. There are stairs and that is it. The houses go straight up in Italian fashion and are very close together. I wondered how old the village was, I imagine really old. The Oklahomans told us that people in this village have lived up to 120 years old. The low stress environment plus all the stairs that force them to keep active makes them live a long time I guess. I loved how all the villagers just sat outside their doors. People were so kind and I really enjoyed seeing so many elderly people. The little kids were so cute. The old people took so much joy in the little ones. I hardly ever saw a child with their parent. They always seemed to surround the older folks. What a wonderful sense of community. The view of the ocean was wonderful, but i so enjoyed seeing a place where the people loved and cared for each other. They supported one another. They fought. I witnessed a coupe of fights actually that were pretty funny. Italians are so passionate. So much PDA and so much public fighting, but so much love :-) The last town we went to was Monterossa. This was a beach town and we had a blast laying on the sand until we were so sweaty we couldnt take it anymore.. then running into the water. Sooo many speedos were there. I am so glad that is not part of our culture. I for one prefer to have my Mom leave her top on at the beach and for my Dad to wear his swim trunks. But thats just me ha.. Now on to Florence :-)

The Problems Bella are in the Hospital

I had heard Rome was really dirty, but I was not prepared for what I saw. It looked like a third world country. The airport and train station were not nice at all. It was not that they were old.. they were just dirty and not taken care of. I had wanted to get out and explore Rome, but after traveling so much and seeing what Rome looked like from the train, I really had no desire to venture out with all my luggage by myself. So I headed straight for Florence. I arrived in Florence at 3 pm. Florence is absolutely beautiful. It is full of old churches and architecture. The whole town looks like old Italy. You do not see any new buildings anywhere. My friends were not at the train to pick me up so I waited a little and tried to find them. Finally I realized they were not coming so I got a cab and told him to take me to an internet cafe. We drove round looking for one and he was very nice ( he probably drove me around to run up the cost but he was such a nice old man and I was happy to have company) I saw the Dumo and other cathedrals. Finally we found the internet café and I tried to reach my friends. After an Hour and a half I went on a search for where I thought their apt was. I noticed in Italy all the people are very nice. Many asked if I needed help as I dragged all my luggage across the cobblestone streets of Florence. You get to hear "Chiao Bella" about a billion times as you walk by. I sat outside of what I thought was their apt but it was not it. So I dragged all my stuff back to the internet cafe. The poor internet man. I was so tired, jetlagged, and hungry at this point, it was really hard not to cry. They told me not to worry. That “the problems were in the hospital. Look around you are in Italy, Florence, The most beautiful city. You have no problems, the problems are in the hospital.” Then they would make me repeat it to them. God is so good! Even now and for a long time I will look back on that day and remember where the problems are. I needed that reminder for life. How blessed am I? How blessed are we all? Well, it was about 3 hours til I got in touch with my friends and finally got to their apartment. There had been a miscommunication and they had thought I was arriving that night. Oh well. I got to go out to an Italian restaurant and have some pasta. Sooooo good! Maybe I will leave Italy looking like my picture from my airport fiasco haha That night the jet lag wore off and I was finally able to sleep more the two hours. I forgot how much I loved sleep. The next day we left for Cinque Terre so I will tell you more about Florence when I explore it!

I have no shame.

So this is where my day in London stars to go downhill. I arrive to Gatwick airport nice and early before my flight. I pick up a pastie to eat. This is some kind of curry chicken calzone that was very satisfying. Finally., It is time to get my boarding pass and check in. I get up to the front of Mediana desk and the lady informs me that I am only allowed 2 bags. That is it. She flatly tells me that my backpack, even though it is not large, is considered a carry on not a personal item. That makes my carry on bag an extra piece of luggage. This woman then informs me that on top of the fact that I have three bags, my main bag is overweight plus my extra bag, and she will be charging me 12 pounds (roughly 24 dollars) for every kg I am over the limit. I was 15 kg over. Now, I am not going to pay an extra $360 for my luggage. I start to beg. She tells me to throw stuff away or just leave things in London. I want to kill her at this point. She is not only not trying to help my plight, she is completely unsympathetic and an idiot. I obviously am not from London so where would my stuff go? I had explained to her I am going to be in Europe for two months traveling, these are necessary items. I am not going to throw away clothes. She promptly hands me my passport back and tells me to come back when I figure it out. That is when I realized. There is only way to end this war. I needed to make my luggage lighter, and there is no rule against how much clothing I can wear. I make my way to the bathroom and somehow squeeze my way into the stall. At first I just stare at the suitcase and start to think thoroughly about what this means. “You will never see these people again” I kept reminding myself. Here is the running total of what I put on:

Underwear: 13

Pants: 3 (my pants could not button at all and my sweatpants drawstrings hung out from my nice business suit pants)

Socks: 5 under a pair of running shoes. It completed my fat person bloated look.

Skirt: 1 This was useful in hiding the fact my pants were not zipped.

Dress: 2 I put on my business dress that goes up to my neck and then my strapless lacy one.

Shirts: 13

Bras: 3

Sports bra: 1

Button up nice shirts: 3.. ( I put the largest one on the outside of all the shirts.

Belt: 1 stretchy that I put around my waist.

Scarves: 3

Suit Jacket: 1 ( most of my shirts were tank tops besides the 3 buttonups.. so I was able to get my arms through but the jacket wouldn’t close. )

I then took my pea coat and held it and put some other sweaters inside it. I threw away 3 notebooks, a really large book, all my gum, my first aid kit, and all my hangers. By the time I was done I was sweating profusely. This made me feel even fatter then I already felt. I was so hot that I had to put my hair up, plus it was getting in the way. So I threw it up into a bun on the top of my head. I realize this looks ridiculous, but I had to. SO there I was with all my clothing. I just looked in the mirror and laughed. I felt like I was wearing a chastity belt and my feet were starting to lose circulation. Every time I bent or moved it was strenuous. But I did it. I then proceeded to walk out into the airport over to the woman’s desk. I cant really explain the looks people gave me, but there were a lot of snickers. At random times I felt like bursting into tears because I was so tired, so uncomfortable and hot, I looked huge, my feet were numb, my chastity belt was cutting off circulation at my hips, and people were staring at me. It was like my worst nightmare except that I kept giggling because it really was funny. The airline lady looked shocked. She was trying not to laugh, and I was trying not to hit her. I realized that I had the padding advantage and I could totally hit her like I was wearing one of those fat sumo suits. I was still over, but this time only over 5 kg. After running around trying to find the place to pay for excess baggage, I finally get my boarding pass from the woman. Now it is time to pass security. As I walk up to the place where you put your carry on in to get checked, the security lady asked me to take off my jacket. Are you kidding me? So I took my jacket off and my scarves. I was not going to go beyond that. I am a blonde haired, blue eyed American who has so little shame that she has her made herself into a human clothing rack. I hardly think I qualify as a terrorist. Her comment was “Wow you are wearing a lot of the clothing.. that will make it hard if we need to pad you down.” Thankfully, the woman that was on the other side of the scanner just let me through. I now focused all my attention on getting to my gate and hiding til I got onto the plane. Turns out I had to walk through two very crowded waiting/shopping areas and my gate was at the end of the airport. WONDERFUL. I did not look anyone in the eye. I got to my gate and fell asleep. There was no one by my gate this entire time. They were all in the waiting areas by the shops, for this I was grateful. My flight ended up getting delayed twice so finally I went to the bathroom and took some folders out of my bag and crammed some clothes in. Long story short. My flight got canceled. I did all that. FOR NOTHING. I got all my luggage back and put all the clothing in it. There were 80 of us waiting at that airport for four hours til the told us they canceled. The airline offered us no promise for booking the next day, we would have to get there early and hope we could get a flight. People were furious. I was glad that everyone now hated this woman. I found great joy as she was bombarded with angry yells in all sorts of languages for the next two hours as she tried to find us hotels and placate the travelers. I called home and got a flight to Rome on a different airline. There were no flights left to Florence til late the next day and even that was not promised. I will get to Rome and take the train to Florence. Plus, I was not going through that whole ordeal ever again. I talked to a older woman and her husband from New York that were stuck in London with me. I started to explain to the lady my day, but she already knew. “Oh yes, I saw you.” Great. Hi, I am Shelbi . Welcome to my life.