I’m woken up by a maddening, repetitive clanging. Ten whole minutes of the morning bell ringing to wake the visitors up for the morning prayer. I'm thinking, Yes! Today will be the day that I make it to the morning prayer. Next thing I know I’m being called for by my grandma and my uncle to wake up for breakfast. As requested, I arise from my quite long slumber and trudge into the kitchen, only to see they haven't even picked up breakfast. To be fair, my uncle was occupied by the morning prayer, as he’s a brother at the monastery at which we are staying. I’ve visited it once before, but only for one night. Ever since, I’ve wanted to return to experience it all again being a bit older. This time I am staying for a week, so I have enough time to immerse myself in the culture, and practice some French. 

For most meals, I’m excited to uncover what lies beneath the box of food, but breakfast is different. We’re in France,–central France, close to Switzerland– so the daily breakfast of bread and cheese is to be expected, but I still always have the glimmer of hope that one of those days we will have a more extravagant meal (It never happens). I don't complain, however, because the creamy, delicious cheese, and the occasionally fresh, warm bread, creates an unmatchable pair that starts the day off tasting good. 

Soon after we clean up and I walk our breakfast containers and leftovers back to the kitchen–they reuse the leftover bread– it’s time for me to meet up with my group. In the mornings, I join other kids from countries all across Europe–Including Portugal, Sweden, Germany, and Lithuania– for a brief Bible study, where we read stories from the Bible with helpful lessons for the youth. Following the reading, we discuss the lesson and answer questions that could help us relate to them, to give the lessons more meaning to us. Though I'm not what I consider very religious, it's still helpful to go over these basic lessons, as they all have great significance in my life.

At 11:00AM, when the meetings end, there is still an hour until the second prayer commences–first for me. During this hour, which usually feels like a lifetime, I enjoy  taking a walk around the monastery with my headphones in, absorbing the picturesque scenery of hills going on for miles and miles while listening to the audio of my choice. The physically tough geographic landscape of the town, having been built on a hill, makes walking a struggle, but I decide to walk all the way down the hill, not thinking about the trek I have on the way up. 

Closing in on the home stretch of my walk, I glance at my phone, realizing that it’s just about time for prayer. Just then, the bells begin to ring. Luckily for me, that doesn't mean I'm late, as the bells begin ringing ten minutes prior to guarantee that the majority of people can hear it and start towards the church before the prayer starts. I begin my brief walk towards the church, completing it in less than one minute, and enter, grabbing a song book out of the box as I walk. The first time I entered the massive church, I was astounded by the number of people crammed into it. To maximize space, there are no chairs in the church,–except if you need one, possibly due to age or disability– so everyone either sits cross legged on the floor, or on a stool that the church provides. I, personally, prefer to sit cross legged on the floor, which I assume is a tendency of mine learned in school. After sitting silently for a few minutes close to one of the many little screens spread throughout the church , the bells went quiet and all of the screen lights up with a number, indicating which page in the book to turn to. Slowly the brothers(about fifty of them) walk into the church. Group by group, they walk with their large, white robes on and find their designated spot on the floor. After they all sit down and prepare their music, they begin to sing. Slowly the more experienced guests sing along, beginning the already beautiful sounding but less loud performance. As more and more people start singing, making the songs louder and better, the incredible experience of two thousand people singing beautiful songs ranging from all different languages in unison is happening. After fifteen minutes of singing, the silent prayer starts. It's only about ten minutes, but when you’re sitting there, forced to be silent, it’s difficult. But, as you’d expect, each time I participate in a prayer I notice great improvement in my ability to stay silent and still. After the silent prayer ends, more singing starts.

 Finally, forty minutes after the first singing began, it’s over. I think, Yes! The end of the midday prayer means it’s time for lunch. But, first I need to serve lunch with my group. To get there before the masses I sprint over and take my place in the serving station. For two thousand people, serving lunch isn't a quick thing. With about seven serving lines, and seven separate stations, it still takes almost a half hour to complete. 

After that it’s time to eat. A delicious pasta dish awaits me. But, after serving two thousand people, there is none left. There is food, but it is a very limited amount of last night's leftovers. I get one scant scoop of quinoa, barely enough to satisfy a toddler. There is a piece of bread and a cookie to go along, but even that is barely enough for a little kid, let alone a growing, teenage boy who eats the portion of at least 3 other people. Well, that just means I am going to starve until dinner.

The next part of the day is the least active part. Nothing really happens until dinner, except for the occasional kids’ performance, which was entertaining when I watched it, but it has only happened twice. So, until dinner, I just rest. 

By the time dinner comes I am always starving. Again, I do my job and walk to the main kitchen to pick up the food. After, I set the table and prepare for my grandma, uncle, and whatever guest we have that night to arrive. Dinner is always a delicious meal, so it’s never disappointing. We have our usual conversation while eating, normally about whatever our guest is interested in. Soon we have to wrap up, however, as the night time prayer bells just started to ring. 

My grandma, uncle, and I start toward the church to participate in the last prayer of the day. I go through the whole process again–except this time a bit longer– and it eventually wraps up. Following the prayer I walk home and wait for everyone else to return. As I wait, I pick a deck of cards off of the table and I start shuffling the cards and passing them around, preparing for poker. The poker we play is just for fun, as we don’t use any real money, because we just write the bets and other important information on paper. All of us being somewhat new/inexperienced players, the matches are always close, creating more competition amongst each other. Every night there is a new winner. 

Eventually we have to end our match, unfortunately, but there is one last thing to do. My uncle and I have to go to the chicken coop to clean it up and close it. Once this is over, I return to the apartment, do my nightly routine, and get in bed. I watch my nightly few episodes of TV, before eventually dozing off. 

In the end, even with all of the inconveniences, it was a very important experience for me and I loved being able to visit. I enjoyed having the opportunity to have more adult conversations with my uncle,  since I am older than I was last time I saw him. Of course, it was also great having the chance to leave the country, explore interesting places, and make friends from all across Europe. Being in a place like this, you never want to leave, as there's always more to learn and do. This is why, sometime in the future, I would like to volunteer at the monastery for a longer period of time than I’ve stayed so far.