After a brief sleep I am able to complete my first session with the students. They are interested and enthusiastic, really keen to learn. Serbian is not a first language for all of them and therefore there is deep concentration etched on their faces.

Tomatoes and gourds are grown here, along with, peculiarly, a patch of azaleas. I pick out from the stubble at the side of the road an unusual sight of beautiful striped snails; they really are quite exotic. I return to the School for discussions with Andy and fellow teacher John.

In the afternoon I head off through the golden fields of maize towards the small town of Opovo.

After lunch we divide into different groups for our practical tasks. I go with a party to Avala, a refugee community in the hills the other side of Belgrade. Our journey starts with complexitities when we find one car is low on petrol. We start at the garage next to the College, which turns out to be awaiting a delivery, so we turn around and drive to Opovo where the garage is closed until 4.00 pm. So we turn off and head in our original direction, only to be phoned by the second car after a few hundred metres to tell us that they have broken down and run out of petrol! We drive almost into Belgrade, fill up a canister and drive back to them before the journey can begin in earnest. We then go through the centre of Belgrade, cross the mighty Danube and once again pass the bombed out shells of the building from the bombardment in 1999.

Once we reach the first refugee community, it is a heart-rending sight. These people are housed in a battered former psychiatric hospital hidden away on top of a hill. There are old women knitting, old men shuffling to and fro and young children running around. Many people are bringing watermelons home which they have found or bought somewhere. One tiny child kneels on the ground, enjoying his huge slice of watermelon in a delightfully unselfconscious way. John, my fellow teacher, and I, together with three of the students, join the children in a football match which pleases them no end. At half time we break for a cup of sweet Turkish coffee which certainly helps the energy levels.

After an hour we return to the cars and drive to the other half of the community, which is equally sorrowful. They are housed in an old hotel, or pension, which is falling down around them. These people have all been here since 1999. They were escorted out of the region of Kosovo by the Serbian Army when KFOR arrived. They have neither Serbian nor Kosovan papers and therefore are stateless. They seem very grateful for the visit and another football match ensues. We then drive back through the evening rush hour in Belgrade to the Bible School. On arrival we discover that the expected truck of humanitarian aid has arrived early. After a quick tea we spend the next two hours unloading the 40-ton truck by hand. There are hundreds of shoebox parcels, food hampers, hygiene packs, together with clothing and supplies for the Bible School. Amongst them are 5,000 sets of stainless steel airline cutlery, no longer permitted on flights after 9/11 but very useful for those in need. Everyone retires to bed tired and grubby. I hope for attentive ears at tomorrow morning's sessions.

This afternoon I borrow one of our newly acquired bicycles and pedal off into Opovo where to both my and Fiona's amazement, I am able to speak to her on the bus as she makes her way along Hampton Road. She is on a bus and I am in a small phone kiosk overlooking the village square in Opovo, dominated by a rusting Communist war memorial. Telephones are wonderful things when they work!

In the evening we go out for dinner with Andy and Faye, assistant Director Sladjan and his wife Jaroslava, together with translator Ira and husband Sasko. The venue for the meal is a slightly odd pizza restaurant where the air conditioning appears to be on and 1970's music is piped through the system. The food however is good and we enjoy a lively journey home in the jeep.

At 1.00 pm, Pista, Gizika and Monika arrive to spend the afternoon with me. All week long Monika has been rushing through her homework to make sure that she can have this afternoon free.

When the meal is over, we head out and find the rain has stopped. We drive up to the Karla Magna, a wonderful park in the city overlooking the Danube. Mariana buys popcorn all round and we walk along eating it, then duck into a very chic shopping centre for shelter. This is certainly another face of Belgrade. Afterwards we walk into the park itself and look at the majestic views of the sun setting over the Danube. We walk all the way up to the monument where the two rivers meet. At this point, Pista leaves to get the car. As we walk back through steep paths in the park, Gizika is delighted to be able to walk so far. Last year she could hardly walk to the front door. On emerging from the park, we have to wait on a very narrow traffic island for Pista to arrive in the Fiat.

We drive home through the darkness and traffic to the Bible School, where Pista and Gizika soon get busy networking with this year's students. Gizi spends time with Anita, a Hungarian speaker, who often feels isolated by her language and Pista sits down with Sasha, a third term student who is uncertain about his future. Meanwhile Monika and I play with a ball which a member of the Oak Hall team has given her. The time comes for them to head home and there is an emotional farewell as we pray in the car park. I return to the evening's worship meeting and do my best to concentrate on what is going on. However two of the beloved students say to me afterwards "Professor, are you all right? What is the matter?" and I explain that it's hard to leave such good friends behind. The students are rather overwhelmed by the large group and are all taking refuge in the foyer, where I join them for a hot chocolate and some more learning of Serbian phrases.

In the afternoon I prepare a sermon for use at TBC on Sunday evening. The subject is "Looking after strangers abroad" so there is no shortage of material! A quick bicycle ride into Opovo allows me to buy a small gift to thank Ira, my translator.

On our return, the male students are in the lecture room - not ready to bed down in the library just yet. Andy starts off singing a song he has just written and then we move into an impromptu worship session together. These are precious moments to savour.

-Soli Deo Gloria-

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