We had our last ERP kids event of the year last night. It was movie night watching Mr Magorium's Wonder Emporium at STA. There were about 12 kids and 7 ISU students which is crazy in itself, but good enough when they're watching a movie. But only 1 child actually watched the movie (they complained that they didn't like the movie, so we switched it to Enchanted and still, only one watched the movie).
It was fine because most of them played in the Angels room, but a few of the older boys just went around picking fights. It made me sad to see that their way of interaction was mainly to get into fights or yell at each other and call each other names. I mean, I know they're kids, but at ten and eleven years old, it was more than just the typical kids being kids. Then the oldest one, Bear, grabbed one of the bulletins and realized that we were in a Catholic church and freaked out. I can't be in no Catholic Church, I'm a Christian. Catholics are demons, they're devils. Then he saw a picture of Pope Benedict XVI in the student lounge. You shouldn't be wearing that cross. You're no Christian. Bear in mind that there were a number of young adults gathering in the lounge at the time witnessing all of this. Catholics think they're Christians, but they're not. They're devil-worshippers.
I was offended and saddened. Offended because we make time to plan events for the kids - and enjoy doing it - and organize it through our Catholic Church. Then he goes around yelling that we are terrible people (not my interpretation, he actually did) when we're doing these things for them. We could have been studying, probably should have been, but since they asked us to do a movie night we added one last event. It was frustrating and made me not want to make the effort in the future. Granted it was only one child, but by the end of the night he had one other girl come up to me and tell me Catholics are bad (though she clearly only did it because she felt forced to) and many other students heard his rants.
I'm not sure how much of the things he was saying he actually believed versus how much he said just to get a rise out of us. It made me sad to think of how young he is and how intolerant he is already. And if it was only to get attention, the fact that he felt like he needed to try to hurt someone in order to get attention. Or maybe he was just bored and figured that was something to do for a while. Whatever the case, he thought it was acceptable to go around yelling insults in the church. It made me sad. And grateful for the home I was raised in where hitting was a timeout and screaming meant getting sent to my room and fighting with a neighbor probably meant not playing outside the next day.
There are two new children that just moved in to ERP family housing that are still sweet and not violent. I hope they have the chance to play outside with the other kids, but that the other kids aren't a bad influence on them. It's just a tough situation all the way around. And we don't spend enough time with them to make much of a tangible difference other than maybe 5 or 6 hours a month. I hope in the fall, or even this summer, they can get a tutoring program going for the kids to help with reading or schoolwork on a regular basis.
Nora the Explorer
Hello to all of my wonderful family and friends! As I travel, this is the best way for me to tell you about my adventures. Just don't forget to leave a comment or send me an email so I know what's going on back home!
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Reflecting on Honduras
Excerpt from an email to a friend in Bolivia:
Honduras was an incredible experience. We were only in-country for 10 days, but I got a glimpse of the culture. Since it was Semana Santa, the whole country shut down, especially on Thursday and Friday - we could hardly find a place open to buy food. Luckily we were prepared, but it was a little unsettling not having options. Definitely a good thing to experience - it gave me a small sense of what it's like to have no option for the poor.
I also saw how the "importance" of a person varies. There we were, just a couple of college students and people were thrilled to have Americans in their presence. Several people in the smaller villages we visited like Dolores in western Honduras had never seen gringos before, particularly the kids, and definitely not so many at once.
The machismo really stood out. We would walk around Santa Rosa where John and a few Peace Corps workers are the only real gringos they see - not a big tourist town - and get all sorts of stares and whistles and loud comments from men who assumed we didn't speak Spanish (and sometimes I'm glad I didn't know the slang when John would glare their way). But in the tourist town of Gracias where there's a great cloud forest - Celaque - the stares were even more blatant. Even to the point that people would stop cars and roll down windows and stare as we walked by two feet away. That was later in the week, so it we were kind of used to it by then but it surprised me that in a tourist town the stares were more blatant than in the town where at least the majority of the stares were out of curiosity. Especially when the police were the "perpetrators."
Sidebar: I had an interview for study abroad the week before break to spend the fall in the Netherlands and the spring in South Africa studying community organizing. I'm really excited about both. One of the questions they asked me was if I were lost, what would I do? I said I'd go to a center of transportation (gas station, train station, etc) to get directions/oriented. And if there wasn't one around? Then I'd probably ask a woman with children for help. Then I would probably ask someone else to make sure I got the same directions. They said they hadn't heard that answer before, which surprised me given the number of students they interview for study abroad. The typical answer is that a person would go to the police. I realized that my travel experience when I'm not with family has been in countries where the police are not necessarily the most trustworthy people to seek help from and that was my frame of reference when answering rather than thinking of how stable the Netherlands is. And on that topic, I'm debating which language to learn in South Africa. I plan on learning Afrikaans since it's related to Dutch and that's why the programs are connected. But I'm afraid that the language I chose - Xhosa v. Afrikaans - will be symbolic because I'm not sure if one language is more associated with one racial group or group of particular social standing. Oh well. I hope to learn enough Dutch and Afrikaans/Xhosa to be fluent so I can get a Rotary Scholarship to one of the countries but that's at least a year away.
The people of Honduras are so friendly. I am amazed by the poor and how caring and giving they are. We stopped to tour a church in a small village on our way back into town because the church we were helping to build would be identical to it. The family who lived next to the church insisted that we come in for refreshments just because they saw that we were extranjeros. I was relieved to see that they poured us pop so we could accept it.
Honduras was an incredible experience. We were only in-country for 10 days, but I got a glimpse of the culture. Since it was Semana Santa, the whole country shut down, especially on Thursday and Friday - we could hardly find a place open to buy food. Luckily we were prepared, but it was a little unsettling not having options. Definitely a good thing to experience - it gave me a small sense of what it's like to have no option for the poor.
I also saw how the "importance" of a person varies. There we were, just a couple of college students and people were thrilled to have Americans in their presence. Several people in the smaller villages we visited like Dolores in western Honduras had never seen gringos before, particularly the kids, and definitely not so many at once.
The machismo really stood out. We would walk around Santa Rosa where John and a few Peace Corps workers are the only real gringos they see - not a big tourist town - and get all sorts of stares and whistles and loud comments from men who assumed we didn't speak Spanish (and sometimes I'm glad I didn't know the slang when John would glare their way). But in the tourist town of Gracias where there's a great cloud forest - Celaque - the stares were even more blatant. Even to the point that people would stop cars and roll down windows and stare as we walked by two feet away. That was later in the week, so it we were kind of used to it by then but it surprised me that in a tourist town the stares were more blatant than in the town where at least the majority of the stares were out of curiosity. Especially when the police were the "perpetrators."
Sidebar: I had an interview for study abroad the week before break to spend the fall in the Netherlands and the spring in South Africa studying community organizing. I'm really excited about both. One of the questions they asked me was if I were lost, what would I do? I said I'd go to a center of transportation (gas station, train station, etc) to get directions/oriented. And if there wasn't one around? Then I'd probably ask a woman with children for help. Then I would probably ask someone else to make sure I got the same directions. They said they hadn't heard that answer before, which surprised me given the number of students they interview for study abroad. The typical answer is that a person would go to the police. I realized that my travel experience when I'm not with family has been in countries where the police are not necessarily the most trustworthy people to seek help from and that was my frame of reference when answering rather than thinking of how stable the Netherlands is. And on that topic, I'm debating which language to learn in South Africa. I plan on learning Afrikaans since it's related to Dutch and that's why the programs are connected. But I'm afraid that the language I chose - Xhosa v. Afrikaans - will be symbolic because I'm not sure if one language is more associated with one racial group or group of particular social standing. Oh well. I hope to learn enough Dutch and Afrikaans/Xhosa to be fluent so I can get a Rotary Scholarship to one of the countries but that's at least a year away.
The people of Honduras are so friendly. I am amazed by the poor and how caring and giving they are. We stopped to tour a church in a small village on our way back into town because the church we were helping to build would be identical to it. The family who lived next to the church insisted that we come in for refreshments just because they saw that we were extranjeros. I was relieved to see that they poured us pop so we could accept it.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
iHola de Honduras!
iHola todas! I am in Santa Rosa de Copan, Honduras and having a blast! We got in on Friday night and after 2 hours in customs, we met up with John Donaghy - our in country host - a little more tired, much warmer, and one bag lighter than when we left Ames that morning. It was nice to be out of the airport. We spent the night at a hotel in San Pedro Sula, not too far from the airport.
We started off Saturday morning with a traditional breakfast of platanos con crema y huevos rancheros: sweet bananas with creme and eggs with peppers. The bishop - Monsenor Luis Alfonso Santos - wanted to pick us up but the President of the Republic (of Honduras) was visiting Santa Rosa to dedicate a new street that was about to be paved, so the bishop had to be there as well. Instead he sent two cars to pick us up. I rode with Ramiro, Katie, and Mary & John, Mitch, and Marla rode with Rafael. We had quite the discussion about the geography, impact of the mines on the agriculture and the people, and of course politics.
Ramiro told me about how he is working to get the government to impose a tax on the mines since they are engaging in cyanide leeching which gets into the water supply and causes health problems. They don't want environmental laws because there will be no enforcement of the laws and most officials are easily bought off by the mining companies anyway. He also asked my impression of the war in Iraq. I told him it was mostly unpopular in the States, but now that we're there, what do we do? I have friends who are fighting there now. He said popular sentiment in Honduras is that we never should have gone in and should leave immediately. I asked him about Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez. He said most people like him because he is doing a lot of good things to help countries in Latin America. Ramiro doesn't speak any English so all of our communication was in Spanish - I was impressed by my abilities to communicate. It was broken but I got the message across.
We arrived in Santa Rosa de Copan around noon and got settled in with two Spanish nuns - Hermanas de la Immaculada - who run a home for girls from the countryside who are attending school and need a place to stay. Since it is Semana Santa - Holy Week - they are all home and their rooms are available for us to stay in. Mitch is staying just down the street at John's house.
We spent Saturday walking around town and buying fruit at the market. We ate dinner with the sisters at a local pizza place. Actually, we spend most days walking around town. There are taxis, but mostly we walk. Saturday night, though, Sor Maria Jesus and Sor Marissa, our hostesses, drove us around town in the back of their truck: up and down the hills under a star-studded sky in the warm evening air - it was gorgeous. [Cultural note: stop signs are optional. In fact, people slow down more when there is no stop sign.]
Sunday morning we got up at 3:45am to make alfombras in the street for Palm Sunday. Here, they cover the streets in a path of decorative designs like crosses, doves, flowers, and chalices made of sawdust and then line them with real flowers. Then they process along the path from the local church - St. Martin - to the Cathedral in the town square. The procession includes Jesus on a donkey, all of his disciples, a statue of Jesus carried by four men, the priest, and lots of incense. It began at tipo 8am [about 8am - that's the time to gather and it will start sometime after that] and lasted until 11am. Then we ate lunch at John's - baleadas are the traditional meal of corn tortillas, beans, and crema, plus fresh mango, pineapple, and papaya.
Then it was naptime. Our siesta was not long enough.
We walked around town some more to change money and get licuados (a milk and fruit drink similar to a smoothie) before dinner with the bishop. He is something. He treated us to dinner at one of (if not the) nicest places in town and offered lots of alcohol, cigars, and desserts [all of which we turned down because this is a church trip and we were full from a huge meal]. But he was very energetic and enthusiastic and happy to spend time with us which was nice. Afterwards we walked around the town square for a while and he asked about our schedule for each of the remaining days of the week asking when we could get together again. It was touching how hospitable he was to us and how pastoral he is to his people. He stands up to the government every chance he gets [even when they are armed] and in the streets paused to say hello and ask after families of people he knew. The country is 90% Catholic or more and he is a well known figure after 24 years as bishop. For a man of 71 he looks at least 15 years younger.
Having had a long day, we eagerly went back to bed. Monday morning came at 4:30am. My alarm clock is not particularly accurate in time (it cost $2.50) and on top of that I had to guess the time to set it, I didn't have a clock to set it from. Anyway, I read it wrong and we all got ready by 4:50am thinking we were late when we were really an hour early. So we took naps and got to John's...late anyway. Mass started at 6am at the radio station.
Author's note: today has been another full day and I am tired. Here is the short version of what happened:
Monday:
6am - Mass, Marla sick :(
7:30am - breakfast at John's
8am - to Kindergarten in Colonia Divina Providencia: 50 kindergarteners, 1 teacher - mostly orphans
Noon - lunch with Padre Roel - very liberal priest ... ask me about him
1:45 - 2:30pm - nap, this is exhausting
3pm - visit Hogar San Jose - a home for malnourished children newborns to age 5 run by the Missionaries of Charity after 5 years old, they either go home to their families who could not take care of them before due to financial situation or imprisonment or to the orphan homes next to the kindergarten.
6pm - dinner at John's
7pm - Stations of the Cross at St. Martin with the "base community" that John belongs to
10pm - BED!
Tuesday...I'll tell you about later. It was a fun day at the Copan Ruins followed by a talk by famous Brazilian Catholic theologian and former priest Leonardo Boff.
I haven't written much about the people other than Romiro. The interactions I've had with them are very important and the reason we are here. However, 1) I don't have time - I'm detail oriented and as you can see I am not terribly brief and 2) I want to explain that in person - if I write it all now you'll have nothing to ask me about when I get home. They are touching and have impacted me as a person and made me consider new possibilities for my own future. They are absolutely filled with God. Sandra, a young girl who lives in a shack with no electricity and at least 4 siblings and her mother brought us snacks on Sunday morning because she wanted to offer us something. She gave from what very little she had to her new friends. As John says, the most important thing is that we were paying attention to her. But here I go writing too much again. The Kindergarten and the Home for Malnourished children have been the most moving so far - I'll talk to you when I get home. Hope all is well. Abrasos hasta luego.
We started off Saturday morning with a traditional breakfast of platanos con crema y huevos rancheros: sweet bananas with creme and eggs with peppers. The bishop - Monsenor Luis Alfonso Santos - wanted to pick us up but the President of the Republic (of Honduras) was visiting Santa Rosa to dedicate a new street that was about to be paved, so the bishop had to be there as well. Instead he sent two cars to pick us up. I rode with Ramiro, Katie, and Mary & John, Mitch, and Marla rode with Rafael. We had quite the discussion about the geography, impact of the mines on the agriculture and the people, and of course politics.
Ramiro told me about how he is working to get the government to impose a tax on the mines since they are engaging in cyanide leeching which gets into the water supply and causes health problems. They don't want environmental laws because there will be no enforcement of the laws and most officials are easily bought off by the mining companies anyway. He also asked my impression of the war in Iraq. I told him it was mostly unpopular in the States, but now that we're there, what do we do? I have friends who are fighting there now. He said popular sentiment in Honduras is that we never should have gone in and should leave immediately. I asked him about Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez. He said most people like him because he is doing a lot of good things to help countries in Latin America. Ramiro doesn't speak any English so all of our communication was in Spanish - I was impressed by my abilities to communicate. It was broken but I got the message across.
We arrived in Santa Rosa de Copan around noon and got settled in with two Spanish nuns - Hermanas de la Immaculada - who run a home for girls from the countryside who are attending school and need a place to stay. Since it is Semana Santa - Holy Week - they are all home and their rooms are available for us to stay in. Mitch is staying just down the street at John's house.
We spent Saturday walking around town and buying fruit at the market. We ate dinner with the sisters at a local pizza place. Actually, we spend most days walking around town. There are taxis, but mostly we walk. Saturday night, though, Sor Maria Jesus and Sor Marissa, our hostesses, drove us around town in the back of their truck: up and down the hills under a star-studded sky in the warm evening air - it was gorgeous. [Cultural note: stop signs are optional. In fact, people slow down more when there is no stop sign.]
Sunday morning we got up at 3:45am to make alfombras in the street for Palm Sunday. Here, they cover the streets in a path of decorative designs like crosses, doves, flowers, and chalices made of sawdust and then line them with real flowers. Then they process along the path from the local church - St. Martin - to the Cathedral in the town square. The procession includes Jesus on a donkey, all of his disciples, a statue of Jesus carried by four men, the priest, and lots of incense. It began at tipo 8am [about 8am - that's the time to gather and it will start sometime after that] and lasted until 11am. Then we ate lunch at John's - baleadas are the traditional meal of corn tortillas, beans, and crema, plus fresh mango, pineapple, and papaya.
Then it was naptime. Our siesta was not long enough.
We walked around town some more to change money and get licuados (a milk and fruit drink similar to a smoothie) before dinner with the bishop. He is something. He treated us to dinner at one of (if not the) nicest places in town and offered lots of alcohol, cigars, and desserts [all of which we turned down because this is a church trip and we were full from a huge meal]. But he was very energetic and enthusiastic and happy to spend time with us which was nice. Afterwards we walked around the town square for a while and he asked about our schedule for each of the remaining days of the week asking when we could get together again. It was touching how hospitable he was to us and how pastoral he is to his people. He stands up to the government every chance he gets [even when they are armed] and in the streets paused to say hello and ask after families of people he knew. The country is 90% Catholic or more and he is a well known figure after 24 years as bishop. For a man of 71 he looks at least 15 years younger.
Having had a long day, we eagerly went back to bed. Monday morning came at 4:30am. My alarm clock is not particularly accurate in time (it cost $2.50) and on top of that I had to guess the time to set it, I didn't have a clock to set it from. Anyway, I read it wrong and we all got ready by 4:50am thinking we were late when we were really an hour early. So we took naps and got to John's...late anyway. Mass started at 6am at the radio station.
Author's note: today has been another full day and I am tired. Here is the short version of what happened:
Monday:
6am - Mass, Marla sick :(
7:30am - breakfast at John's
8am - to Kindergarten in Colonia Divina Providencia: 50 kindergarteners, 1 teacher - mostly orphans
Noon - lunch with Padre Roel - very liberal priest ... ask me about him
1:45 - 2:30pm - nap, this is exhausting
3pm - visit Hogar San Jose - a home for malnourished children newborns to age 5 run by the Missionaries of Charity after 5 years old, they either go home to their families who could not take care of them before due to financial situation or imprisonment or to the orphan homes next to the kindergarten.
6pm - dinner at John's
7pm - Stations of the Cross at St. Martin with the "base community" that John belongs to
10pm - BED!
Tuesday...I'll tell you about later. It was a fun day at the Copan Ruins followed by a talk by famous Brazilian Catholic theologian and former priest Leonardo Boff.
I haven't written much about the people other than Romiro. The interactions I've had with them are very important and the reason we are here. However, 1) I don't have time - I'm detail oriented and as you can see I am not terribly brief and 2) I want to explain that in person - if I write it all now you'll have nothing to ask me about when I get home. They are touching and have impacted me as a person and made me consider new possibilities for my own future. They are absolutely filled with God. Sandra, a young girl who lives in a shack with no electricity and at least 4 siblings and her mother brought us snacks on Sunday morning because she wanted to offer us something. She gave from what very little she had to her new friends. As John says, the most important thing is that we were paying attention to her. But here I go writing too much again. The Kindergarten and the Home for Malnourished children have been the most moving so far - I'll talk to you when I get home. Hope all is well. Abrasos hasta luego.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Life goes on...?
I saw death today for the first time. Like not the result thereof. Death in action. We had to put Stripes to sleep. My Dad held her. I turned away. But not before she went limp. She's my kitty. I love her. She was in such a good mood too, especially for being at the vet. Not that I regret it, I'm sure it was the right thing to do for her. Right? Yeah...
But it got me thinking, through my tears...can you imagine, I mean, really imagine, living in a wartorn area of the world? Where young children accept death as a sort of way of life, part of the way things are? Watching a loved one die at the hands of another... I mean, my cat died in the most humane way possible...what if you were forced to watch your family member be tortured? Even just imagining someone I know getting tortured is horrible, but someone I love? While I was watching?
I got a poster in the mail today:
People are being tortured;
Why should you care?
Torture is a sin.
Torture doesn't work.
Torture hurts everyone.
All who torture,
All who order torture
All who let torture happen,
Must be held accountable.
As followers of the tortured
And risen
Jesus,
We must stop torture.
Together we can.
Know. Care. Act.
I think maybe I will take that job in D.C. this summer...
www.nrcat.org
But it got me thinking, through my tears...can you imagine, I mean, really imagine, living in a wartorn area of the world? Where young children accept death as a sort of way of life, part of the way things are? Watching a loved one die at the hands of another... I mean, my cat died in the most humane way possible...what if you were forced to watch your family member be tortured? Even just imagining someone I know getting tortured is horrible, but someone I love? While I was watching?
I got a poster in the mail today:
People are being tortured;
Why should you care?
Torture is a sin.
Torture doesn't work.
Torture hurts everyone.
All who torture,
All who order torture
All who let torture happen,
Must be held accountable.
As followers of the tortured
And risen
Jesus,
We must stop torture.
Together we can.
Know. Care. Act.
I think maybe I will take that job in D.C. this summer...
www.nrcat.org
Sunday, September 30, 2007
ONE Campaign Update
So things have been really busy with the ONE Campaign lately. We took a lot of action over the last few weeks - particularly during Political Action Week at Iowa State University. Some events:
Sunday, September 16: Harkin Steak Fry
ONE had a table set up to talk to Iowans about ONE issues and invite them to sign the declaration. Gov. Bill Richardson came over to the table, did a shout out, and put on the band that I gave him!
Monday, September 17: Political Action Week - Foreign Policy Day
ONE members talked to students on Central Campus and Iowa ONE Outreach coordinator Natalie Sugira was the keynote speaker, talking to students about her global poverty in the context of growing up in Rwanda.
Read the Iowa State Daily Article: http://www.iowastatedaily.com/home/index.cfm?q=ONE+Campaign+Obama&flan_search=go&event=displaySearchResults&buttonPushed=1&client=testing-testing&forid=1&ie=ISO-8859-1&oe=ISO-8859-1&cof=GALT%3A%23008000%3BGL%3A1%3BDIV%3A%23666666%3BVLC%3A663399%3BAH%3Acenter%3BBGC%3AFFFFFF%3BLBGC%3AFFFFFF%3BALC%3A0000FF%3BLC%3A0000FF%3BT%3A000000%3BGFNT%3A0000FF%3BGIMP%3A0000FF%3BLH%3A37%3BLW%3A310%3BFORID%3A1%3B&hl=en
Watch Natalie's speech: http://youtube.com/watch?v=-Kb09x37aqo
Friday, September 21: Political Action Week - Keynote: Barack Obama
Twenty students wore ONE Vote 08 t-shirts on Central Campus during Barack Obama's speech. After the speech, Senator Obama greeted the crowd. I handed him a ONE band early in his hand-shaking and he wore it on his right hand as he shook hands with literally hundreds of students!
Our next big event will be the Iowa Hunger Summit on at the Downtown Marriott in Des Moines on October 16! We may also have the opportunity to host a meet and greet with David Beckman, president of Bread for the World on campus on October 15!
Until then, keep rocking the wristbands and spreading the word!
www.one.org
www.onevote08.org/states/ia
Sunday, September 16: Harkin Steak Fry
ONE had a table set up to talk to Iowans about ONE issues and invite them to sign the declaration. Gov. Bill Richardson came over to the table, did a shout out, and put on the band that I gave him!
Monday, September 17: Political Action Week - Foreign Policy Day
ONE members talked to students on Central Campus and Iowa ONE Outreach coordinator Natalie Sugira was the keynote speaker, talking to students about her global poverty in the context of growing up in Rwanda.
Read the Iowa State Daily Article: http://www.iowastatedaily.com/home/index.cfm?q=ONE+Campaign+Obama&flan_search=go&event=displaySearchResults&buttonPushed=1&client=testing-testing&forid=1&ie=ISO-8859-1&oe=ISO-8859-1&cof=GALT%3A%23008000%3BGL%3A1%3BDIV%3A%23666666%3BVLC%3A663399%3BAH%3Acenter%3BBGC%3AFFFFFF%3BLBGC%3AFFFFFF%3BALC%3A0000FF%3BLC%3A0000FF%3BT%3A000000%3BGFNT%3A0000FF%3BGIMP%3A0000FF%3BLH%3A37%3BLW%3A310%3BFORID%3A1%3B&hl=en
Watch Natalie's speech: http://youtube.com/watch?v=-Kb09x37aqo
Friday, September 21: Political Action Week - Keynote: Barack Obama

Twenty students wore ONE Vote 08 t-shirts on Central Campus during Barack Obama's speech. After the speech, Senator Obama greeted the crowd. I handed him a ONE band early in his hand-shaking and he wore it on his right hand as he shook hands with literally hundreds of students!
Our next big event will be the Iowa Hunger Summit on at the Downtown Marriott in Des Moines on October 16! We may also have the opportunity to host a meet and greet with David Beckman, president of Bread for the World on campus on October 15!
Until then, keep rocking the wristbands and spreading the word!
www.one.org
www.onevote08.org/states/ia
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Reunion Dinner Thoughts
I forgot how much I value honest, intimate conversation. The dinner was fantastic - wonderful food: gazpacho, pasta puttanesca, and spumoni. Pat and Kirstin are such gracious hosts, and their boys were so much fun. We all traded photos and I passed around my scrapbook. It's the first time I'd really shown it off. I put a lot of time into it and people appreciated that, which was nice to hear.
The crowd thinned out pretty early - maybe around 9pm. Pat, Joey, Spencer, Bryce, and I sat around for a while longer talking. Then it was down to Joey and Pat and Kirstin and me. They chatted about the boys for a bit, then Kirstin went to bed. Joey and I talked about our summer and moving to school and Pat listened attentively. I told her about my experience on the way up to Ames. I told her about how much I didn't like Iowa State last year. I mentioned in brief the reasons why, although I left out the major detail. Then I listened to her talk about how she's been feeling since she got back. She was so honest, like she always has been. I didn't know what to say really, so mostly I just listened too. Then I asked Pat about school. He avoided the question quite nicely.
It was so refreshing to experience such honesty and openness in conversation. And it was really nice to be able to talk and have someone listen. Sometimes, that all you need. No advise. No input. No words of "encouragement" or "support." Just someone to listen and care. Joey and Pat did that. Laura did earlier this summer. And it means so much. Just to know that someone cares enough to let me talk about whatever it is I'm feeling. Not judge me. Not tell me how to feel. Not tell me what to do. Just listen. So thank you. I entered Ames with dread and I left in peace. How wonderful.
The crowd thinned out pretty early - maybe around 9pm. Pat, Joey, Spencer, Bryce, and I sat around for a while longer talking. Then it was down to Joey and Pat and Kirstin and me. They chatted about the boys for a bit, then Kirstin went to bed. Joey and I talked about our summer and moving to school and Pat listened attentively. I told her about my experience on the way up to Ames. I told her about how much I didn't like Iowa State last year. I mentioned in brief the reasons why, although I left out the major detail. Then I listened to her talk about how she's been feeling since she got back. She was so honest, like she always has been. I didn't know what to say really, so mostly I just listened too. Then I asked Pat about school. He avoided the question quite nicely.
It was so refreshing to experience such honesty and openness in conversation. And it was really nice to be able to talk and have someone listen. Sometimes, that all you need. No advise. No input. No words of "encouragement" or "support." Just someone to listen and care. Joey and Pat did that. Laura did earlier this summer. And it means so much. Just to know that someone cares enough to let me talk about whatever it is I'm feeling. Not judge me. Not tell me how to feel. Not tell me what to do. Just listen. So thank you. I entered Ames with dread and I left in peace. How wonderful.
Friday, July 20, 2007
To My Wonderful Advanced Group
So I just got home a few hours ago from working at Catholic Youth Camp in Panora, Iowa. It's one of my favorite places in the world, and the one thing I missed like crazy while I was having the time of my life with all of you. I had a number of people ask me, "Oh yeah, you've been gone, right? So how was Africa?" Mostly in passing, like, "Hey, what's up?" when they didn't really want/have time to hear about it. Mostly I just said it was an incredible experience. And I bragged about you guys a lot. You are seriously the most kind, compassion, generous, thoughtful, intelligent group of individuals that I have ever met. And I say individuals because despite sharing all of those amazing characteristics, you are all so unique and have such a variety of gifts.
So we spend Saturday before the week of camp starts as sort of an orientation to the way things will run for the week and getting (re)acquainted with the other 21 counselors. After dinner, we go to mass. There's a really great band there that just formed in the past year that play for us. I was actually pretty impressed with myself for how I'd been dealing with the reverse culture shock. I really hadn't had any major breakdowns or anything, and I even survived for 15 minutes in the mall and about 15 minutes in a grocery store which I heard were the two toughest places to go. I'd spent a week in Michigan with my family and then a week at home doing laundry and re-packing for camp, so it had been about 2 weeks since the return trip home. I was at mass and listening to a song that the pianist, Eric, had written. I'd heard it a few times earlier in the year and I liked it. The song is called "Made for You."
Chorus:
I am made for you
I am made for your light to shine through
Give me strength so your will I may do
I am made, I am made for You
Verse 3:
When I see the poor on the street
And they don't have enough to eat
I will not turn away
I'll be You for them today
I was fine until the 3rd verse. This was the opening song of mass. I got a little teary. I made it for one more chorus and then I had to leave. I went back to the bathroom and completely broke down. I don't know when I've last sobbed like that. It took me until the homily to calm down (like 30 minutes) and then of course I was a Eucharistic Minister (handing out communion bread) - red eyed and everything.I just feel like there is such a huge, overwhelming problem. It's something I've been thinking about a lot since that breakfast conversation we had on the Thursday before we left when Eric was talking about some of his frustrations. I want to be able to go and help. But I question how much help I can do as a Mzungu: a white, privileged American going in to "fix" the problems of Africa. (If you've seen the Last King of Scotland, I'm thinking of the line where Idi Amin says to the doctor something along the lines of, You white people just think that you can waltz right in and fix all of our problems) I want to help, I really really do. It's been my plan for my life to live in Africa and do some sort of relief work. But I wonder if foreigners and creating a culture of dependence when as soon as a child on the streets sees a Mzungu they come running with their hands up. When like Spencer and Eric said, Jimmy - a wonderful, genuinely compassionate and well-meaning man - who has no mortgage whatsoever on the school says how can I get VEDCO to bring their program and sponsor my school rather than ok, I can start a school gardening program, we have the tools to do that now that we've seen what they do. I wonder if debt relief helps countries recover from colonialism or if it enables/encourages government corruption. Don't get me wrong, I don't for a minute think that what we did for the last month was in vain. We did a lot of incredible work. We lived with the people. We learned from Edith and David every night and from the workers each day. We built valuable relationships with nearly every person that we saw daily, and even some people that we only saw once or twice. We gained so much more than we could possibly have given to them. And I really value that. These are just some things that I personally am struggling with. And for some reason, that song just hit me in a way that I could not handle at that particular moment. I felt like I really want to feed the hungry, but I can't. I'm only one person. I can't just go around handing out money. I know that we can go around with food, but I just feel like it's so much more valuable if the change comes from within - from Ugandans, Africans, people like Edith and all of the UWCM staff - rather than from me who comes in and reinforces the stereotype of the rich white American. Sigh. I am trying to explain only what I feel and not offend any of you in any way. I just feel so frustrated with how huge all of this is. I hope you can understand what I'm trying to say. Anyway, thanks for putting up with my story. I tried to explain it to a few of my close friends, but they just couldn't understand. They tried hard, I know they meant well, and it's not their fault, they just didn't experience what I did. So that's my big update.
On a lighter note, I have a new Africa playlist which includes songs like Africa by Toto, We're Not Gonna Take It by the Twisted Sisters, and Mayberry by Rascal Flatts because it reminds me of getting Cokes at the Grace Drug Shop. Unfortunately, I couldn't find "You are Welcome" on iTunes. What was that other one with the weird music video that Bobby and Spencer sang all the time? Any recommendations for more songs? Oh, also Jeremiah was a Bullfrog from our brick throwing days.
I really want to thank each and every one of you for being so open and honest and genuine throughout the whole trip. I really felt like we were a complete family - I still do. I miss you all so much. I'll be on RAGBRAI tomorrow (Saturday) through Monday, then back home until Saturday when I go back to work another week of camp - I've already heard the song a few more times and been fine, so I don't anticipate any more breakdowns. I had talked to Fix, a staff member, about the incident and I saw him looking at me the next time the song came on (when I was of course, a Eucharistic Minister again), which was really sweet. Bobby, I'll take your suggestion on providing my new foreign exchange student with F2F, though she is from what I like to refer to as a "cold-climate culture" as well. I am so excited to see all of you on August 13th and even sooner if anyone makes plans any sooner. For tonight, I am going out with some fellow counselors to stand in line for the Midnight release of Harry Potter 7. If anyone is riding RAGBRAI, give me a call on my cell phone and I'd love to meet up with you on Sat or Sun afternoon/evening. Thanks for the update, Jo (I think I may have beaten you on the long/rambling email). I'd love to hear from everyone else on what's new.
Love, Nora
PS - I had a camper named Sammi Koen (but pronounced like Cohen), and I thought of Sam and all of you!
So we spend Saturday before the week of camp starts as sort of an orientation to the way things will run for the week and getting (re)acquainted with the other 21 counselors. After dinner, we go to mass. There's a really great band there that just formed in the past year that play for us. I was actually pretty impressed with myself for how I'd been dealing with the reverse culture shock. I really hadn't had any major breakdowns or anything, and I even survived for 15 minutes in the mall and about 15 minutes in a grocery store which I heard were the two toughest places to go. I'd spent a week in Michigan with my family and then a week at home doing laundry and re-packing for camp, so it had been about 2 weeks since the return trip home. I was at mass and listening to a song that the pianist, Eric, had written. I'd heard it a few times earlier in the year and I liked it. The song is called "Made for You."
Chorus:
I am made for you
I am made for your light to shine through
Give me strength so your will I may do
I am made, I am made for You
Verse 3:
When I see the poor on the street
And they don't have enough to eat
I will not turn away
I'll be You for them today
I was fine until the 3rd verse. This was the opening song of mass. I got a little teary. I made it for one more chorus and then I had to leave. I went back to the bathroom and completely broke down. I don't know when I've last sobbed like that. It took me until the homily to calm down (like 30 minutes) and then of course I was a Eucharistic Minister (handing out communion bread) - red eyed and everything.I just feel like there is such a huge, overwhelming problem. It's something I've been thinking about a lot since that breakfast conversation we had on the Thursday before we left when Eric was talking about some of his frustrations. I want to be able to go and help. But I question how much help I can do as a Mzungu: a white, privileged American going in to "fix" the problems of Africa. (If you've seen the Last King of Scotland, I'm thinking of the line where Idi Amin says to the doctor something along the lines of, You white people just think that you can waltz right in and fix all of our problems) I want to help, I really really do. It's been my plan for my life to live in Africa and do some sort of relief work. But I wonder if foreigners and creating a culture of dependence when as soon as a child on the streets sees a Mzungu they come running with their hands up. When like Spencer and Eric said, Jimmy - a wonderful, genuinely compassionate and well-meaning man - who has no mortgage whatsoever on the school says how can I get VEDCO to bring their program and sponsor my school rather than ok, I can start a school gardening program, we have the tools to do that now that we've seen what they do. I wonder if debt relief helps countries recover from colonialism or if it enables/encourages government corruption. Don't get me wrong, I don't for a minute think that what we did for the last month was in vain. We did a lot of incredible work. We lived with the people. We learned from Edith and David every night and from the workers each day. We built valuable relationships with nearly every person that we saw daily, and even some people that we only saw once or twice. We gained so much more than we could possibly have given to them. And I really value that. These are just some things that I personally am struggling with. And for some reason, that song just hit me in a way that I could not handle at that particular moment. I felt like I really want to feed the hungry, but I can't. I'm only one person. I can't just go around handing out money. I know that we can go around with food, but I just feel like it's so much more valuable if the change comes from within - from Ugandans, Africans, people like Edith and all of the UWCM staff - rather than from me who comes in and reinforces the stereotype of the rich white American. Sigh. I am trying to explain only what I feel and not offend any of you in any way. I just feel so frustrated with how huge all of this is. I hope you can understand what I'm trying to say. Anyway, thanks for putting up with my story. I tried to explain it to a few of my close friends, but they just couldn't understand. They tried hard, I know they meant well, and it's not their fault, they just didn't experience what I did. So that's my big update.
On a lighter note, I have a new Africa playlist which includes songs like Africa by Toto, We're Not Gonna Take It by the Twisted Sisters, and Mayberry by Rascal Flatts because it reminds me of getting Cokes at the Grace Drug Shop. Unfortunately, I couldn't find "You are Welcome" on iTunes. What was that other one with the weird music video that Bobby and Spencer sang all the time? Any recommendations for more songs? Oh, also Jeremiah was a Bullfrog from our brick throwing days.
I really want to thank each and every one of you for being so open and honest and genuine throughout the whole trip. I really felt like we were a complete family - I still do. I miss you all so much. I'll be on RAGBRAI tomorrow (Saturday) through Monday, then back home until Saturday when I go back to work another week of camp - I've already heard the song a few more times and been fine, so I don't anticipate any more breakdowns. I had talked to Fix, a staff member, about the incident and I saw him looking at me the next time the song came on (when I was of course, a Eucharistic Minister again), which was really sweet. Bobby, I'll take your suggestion on providing my new foreign exchange student with F2F, though she is from what I like to refer to as a "cold-climate culture" as well. I am so excited to see all of you on August 13th and even sooner if anyone makes plans any sooner. For tonight, I am going out with some fellow counselors to stand in line for the Midnight release of Harry Potter 7. If anyone is riding RAGBRAI, give me a call on my cell phone and I'd love to meet up with you on Sat or Sun afternoon/evening. Thanks for the update, Jo (I think I may have beaten you on the long/rambling email). I'd love to hear from everyone else on what's new.
Love, Nora
PS - I had a camper named Sammi Koen (but pronounced like Cohen), and I thought of Sam and all of you!
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