Shredding for Jesus

We're about a week into Lent and many people are probably seriously beginning to regret giving up chocolate.

Not me.  I have never spent a second of my life regretting giving up chocolate.  Mostly because I have never been foolish enough to attempt to live without it.

I've never been apart of the tradition that gives things up for Lent.  I remember being about eight years old and asking my father why we didn't.  "Because we try to remember the teachings of Jesus everyday," he told me.  That did and still does make perfect sense to me.

So when one of my housemates asked what all of us were giving up for Lent, I was prepared to give my usual reply.  Then my other housemate chimed in that, in her family, instead of giving something up for Lent, they added something to their lives.

I liked the sound of that.  One of my friends has always used the Lenten season as a time for disciplined self-improvement and that seemed like a good idea to me, too.  So for Lent this year, I decided to add Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred to my life.

Jillian Michaels, looking shredded after presumably only 30 days.

So far, it's been pretty good.  I've done three workouts.  Jillian tells me I'm doing a great job and I'm not going to believe the results.  She has confidence that I can do it; I've just got to give it my all.  I'm pretty sure that I've made amazing progress and am just about an exact clone of Jillian.

Me, looking like an exact clone of Jillian after 3 days.

Yeah, I'm feeling good enough about this whole workout thing that I'm going to grab myself an extra piece of chocolate tonight.  And maybe a cupcake, too.  And that peanut butter ice cream...

The state of independence

"It's not community theater; it's better," Ben, the pastor from Cincinnati Church of the Brethren (and my supervisor) told me as he pointed to Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park. "Bob from church has an ushering gig there and sometimes he needs help.  It's a great way to see shows for free."

Free theater?  Sign me up please!  Well, someone in the universe was listening because two nights ago, my housemate got a call from Bob, who needed someone to fill in for him as an usher. Bingo! I was set.

Cut to Friday night.  I'm walking at what would be dusk if the snowy rain would let up, cutting through the park to go to a theater where I've never been before to usher, even though I'm not entirely sure what that entails or where I'm supposed to go or to whom I'm supposed to report.

And I start to feel a little smug.  A little proud of myself.  I'm an independant woman.  I'm going after the things I want.  Look out, world!  I'm strong, I'm confident and I'm on my way up and I'm doing it all by myself!

Except I'm not. At all.  I wouldn't be in Cincinnati without the support of BVS.  I wouldn't be in BVS if it weren't for the support of my family.  I wouldn't be able to usher without the help of Bob from church.  Hell, I wouldn't even be properly outfitted without loans from my housemates and the pastor's wife, Kristin.

Maybe though, that's part of being independent.  While it was true that a number of people had helped make my trek to the theater possible, no one was holding my hand.  I had chosen to do it myself and I was taking the steps to get my self there (pun definetely intended).  I think independent doesn't mean being alone, it means being able to take on life on your own.

So here's a big thank you to everyone who supports me and enables me to be the independent woman I am.  I couldn't have been this awesome without you.

Oh, hi, Ohio!

Orientation is a super busy place and our Internet connection disappeared for awhile, which is why there have been almost no new posts.  But that is no longer an issue because I now live in Cincinnati!

I'm working for the Cincinnati Church of the Brethren doing a whole manner of things.  I live in a beautiful house (and I really, really mean that) with three great housemates: Sarah, Sara and Marc.  Sarah hails from Minnesota, Sara is from Virginia and Marc is from orientation (and before that Germany).

All of those things - the house, the job, the roommates - deserve their own entry.  And they'll get it.  But for now, I want to show you the two most surprisingly useful things that I packed.  Both of these were gifts and both were things I was going to leave behind.

First, Pink Poodle Pillow:

Pink Poodle Pillow was a Christmas gift from my sister, so I would get less homesick for Sachi, our parents' real live poodle who became my shadow and source of sanity.  Sachi is adorable.  Poodle Pillow is ugly as all get out.  Poodle Pillow is, however, a great source of comfort, reminding me of both my sister and my favorite real-life poodle.  Besides being the perfect huggable size, Poodle Pillow is pink and lends instant personality to my bed.

But the most amazing thing about Poodle Pillow, is that Poodle Pillow is a pillow.  See?

 

Poodle Pillow was my only pillow for all of orientation.  Poodle Pillow is a great car pillow, lumbar support, neck support and floor pillow. Part of living simply is finding muliple uses for the stuff you have.  Poodle Pillow does this perfectly.


And probably the most useful thing I brought was this bag from my Aunt Sue:

This is a Blue Q overnighter.  It's made of recycled materials and is super durable and sturdy. It folds down flat and be folded up even more to fit inside my purse.  I've used it as a weekend bag, a bathroom tote, a suitcase reinforcer, a grocery bag, a laundry tote and a decorative room brightener.  I don't think I've ever adored a bag more than this one.


Once or twice I've had to go somewhere carrying both Poodle Pillow and my Blue Q bag.  For the most part I've tried to avoid thinking about how much this makes me look like a 9 year old going to a sleep over.


 But hey, if stuff's useful, it's useful!

The Purple Crayon

Orientation is filled with many different types of people.  I am, as any one who has ever interacted with me knows, a text book extrovert.  I want people all the time and lots of people.  When we were little and my sister was mad at me, she used to pretend she couldn't see or hear me.  It drove me bonkers.  After about ten seconds of this treatment, I gave in to whatever her demands were.

One of the volunteers here, Bryan, is a textbook introvert.  He's perfectly content on his own, he thinks things through before he speaks and doesn't feel the need to fill silences with conversation.

It seems to me that Bryan walks away from our interactions knowing exactly how I feel (and I think that's how most people walk away from me).  Meanwhile, I still can't figure out if Bryan finds me amusing or irritating or some combination of both.

Today, in one of our sessions, we were paired off with a partner and given one crayon and one piece of paper.  We were told that both partners were to hold on to the crayon and -without talking - draw a house.

Bryan was my partner and we had a purple crayon.  We both placed our hands on the crayon and paused, for just a moment, with it poised on our paper, waiting to see how things would go.  It was just a short moment in time, maybe three seconds at most, but it was an oddly intimate experience.  Two hands, two vastly different personalities and upbringings and faith journeys and one crayon and one task.

After that moment, Bryan realized I wasn't going to take the lead (I have zero artistic ability and he has lots) and he began drawing.  And let me tell you, it was so strange to just be taken along for the journey.  Bryan drew with slow, careful strokes, often going over the same lines, whereas I would have done fast, careless strokes, too eager and impatient to worry about quality.

Bryan also took care to draw the house so that it was right side up for me (and upside down for him), which took me somewhat aback.  Didn't it make more sense to make the drawing of the house easier for the person drawing?  That would be the most efficient way, after all.

Even though it was a nonverbal activity, I couldn't quite keep from offering my own opinion, clucking my tongue when Bryan drew the door to the left and I wanted it centered and insisting that we draw grass.  After the house was drawn, I couldn't resist adding a bit of my own flair, so I took lead of the crayon and drew a stick figure.  And there was our house.  Solidly built, with a bit of humanity thrown in at the end.

After session, I asked Bryan if I could write about it in my blog.  He said yes, but as usual, I wasn't sure how he really felt.  However, when I got back from break, this is what I found, so maybe it really was alright.

Operation Knock-Knock

On Saturday, we had a workday.  We'd had one before and I'd spent most of the day stocking shelves in a low-income grocery store.  It had been a good experience and I was looking forward to our assignments for the day.
 
Except, there weren't any.  They loaded us up in the vans, handed us garbage bags and a set of directions to get back to base and told us to go do service.  Then they dropped us off in various neighborhoods in the town of Apopka.

In the neighborhood where my group was dropped off, no one spoke English except for the kids.  Luckily, I had some Spanish under my belt.  So wandered around and asked various people if they needed any help with yard work or washing their cars or whatever.  No one had any work for us and most said thank you with very confused looks on their faces.

When we got back to camp, I used my Spanish-English dictionary to figure out what I had said.  Turns out it went a little something like this:

"Hello, sir.  Do ya speak English? My Spanish is bad. I speak tiny.  We are in a voluntary program. No bosses says 'look, to do to work. For nothing money.' Do you have to work for we?"

Eventually, we wandered into an English speaking neighborhood of senior citizens.  No one there wanted any help either.  Finally, we met a man named Mr. Young who offered to let us rake his leaves.  We finished up our work and were eating lunch when the head of the home-owner's association came and told us we had to leave.  Mr. Young came out and argued with her and we got permission to rake two more yards.

We wandered out of that community and started heading to base, picking up litter along the way.  We found an abandoned shopping cart and used they as a sort of rolling dumpster.  One inquisitive little boy we met was fascinated by our cart.  He kept running around finding garbage for us to put in it.  So we would have even more garbage in our cart, he even unwrapped an old half eaten burrito and stuck it bean side down into my hand, separate from the wrapper.  Joy.

Eventually we made it back to base.  A little sun burnt, extraordinarily dirty and pretty well worn out, but full of good stories.

Orienting myself to be a volunteer

Hello everyone!

Orientation is at a small Church of the Brethren camp near Orlando, Florida.  We stay indoors in bunks and we have electricity and hot water (yay!) and somewhat scarce internet access.

One of the unique things about Brethren Volunteer Service as opposed to other service programs is that we don't determine our project until orientation.  Much of our free time here is spent going through project files, talking to the BVS staff and trying to figure out where we want to spend the next year of our life, and what kind of work we want to be doing.  I won't talk about my project hopes here because I'm somewhat superstitious and don't want to jinx it - and because I'm still sorting through my own stack of projects.

Another unique thing about BVS orientation is our food groups.  The 13 of us volunteers here are spilt into four groups.  We are each responsible for planning, shopping for and cooking several meals in a week.  The challenge of this is our budget.  We are giving a dollar per person per meal.  So, if there are sixteen of us who need to eat dinner, we are given sixteen dollars to buy the things we need for dinner.  It's a challenge, but it's definitely doable and we have been eating quite well.  Although, my sweet tooth misses desserts (oranges and apples are not quite as satisfying in the same way as cookies and cupcakes).

It's fabulously warm here.  Yesterday I was in a t-shirt and jeans and wishing for a pair of shorts.  Today is cloudy and windy, so it's a bit chillier, but I'm still outside right now without being bundled up.  Earlier this week, I tried my hand at kayaking in the camp's small lake and found I really enjoyed it.  The lake provides a peaceful backdrop and the trees are all hung with Spanish moss, so the overall atmosphere of Camp Ithiel is relaxed.  There's a highway very near the camp, but suburban girl that I am, I find the sound of flowing traffic soothing.