Reflections

In this summer that seems to me to be somewhat meandering, purposeless, or random, God seems to find a way to remind me that even the rest he designates from time to time is intentional. I have felt, throughout this summer, a sense of waiting--probably due to being so excited for school to start up in the fall! But of course, that is a big distraction, and doesn't make the time go any faster. What it does do is make me realize that I still am dependent on God for giving my life purpose at any given moment; for how I hope to identify myself, which is by the child of God that I am, not by the activities or acts that I achieve. But, you know, work in progress.

Last night I found myself in a state of bliss on a southern-Bogota terrace admiring the majesty of mountains surrounding such gorgeous (and prettily illuminated) city. Inhaling air from the steady, frigid breeze, and just watching the unfading glimmer of life.
Life is so very real here. I am constantly surprised and renewed by it. The attention to family. The giing thanks for waking up well and safe every morning, and the thanksgiving for the food on the table. The natural beauty surrounding us. The intrigue in observing all the varieties of activities people here get down to each and every day. Even driving in all the traffic and with all those crazy drivers--how fast and recklessly and hazardously some people take to driving is just a reminder of how fleeting life is, and how full of excitement and feeling it can be.
The same was true being in church on Sunday, at a church called Centro de Vida y Adoracion, and singing in Spanish a worship song that I had previously learnt in Argentina. It is so cool to me that my adventures are intertwining, constantly and carefully. That certainly adds to my life's cohesiveness, which encourages me. Making a Colombian friend in Argentina led to a friendship while I was in Buenos Aires, another couple of visits when we were both back in Bogota, and then to my return trip to stay with his family these two weeks in Bogota.

I am so grateful for this year of travel. I have learned about life in general, as well as understood more how I want to live it. All the little memories and lessons are things I can bring to college and beyond. All the photos and the foods and the souvenirs that I have enjoyed only serve to trigger memory of all the special moments that have made this time such a blessing. As it draws to a close now, I'm going to savor both these remembrances and the new adventures to come. On whatever continent, in whatever country, with whichever people they may be.

xox

Red House For Sale--Memories Not Included

I think I grew up a little yesterday. Little more, I mean, as I have recently been stretched and reshaped in various unexpected ways. But today, starting late the night before, was different.

As we drove in the dark past the big red house that holds many of my all-time fondest memories, the realtor's sign flashed in the headlights. I was really jarred by that sight--so blatant, so in my face, so real.

Yesterday we went back to Nana-and-Poppy's "old" house: for clean up, for yard work, for packing up, for goodbyes.

Farewell to that "we-finally-made-it-to-Nana-and-Poppy's house" view.

Goodbye to the basement workshop, where many toy cars and figurines were fondly carved, sanded, pinched into the vice grip within an inch of their wooden lives.
Farewell to the many clocks, with their hanging pendulums now unhooked and sitting on the table.

Goodbye, Nana and Poppy's bedroom...so many early mornings pretending to wake them up, and the snuggles that ensued.
Goodbye to the hallway that held all of Poppy's antique signs from various American inns.
Goodbye to the tiny first floor bathroom that overlooks the flowers in the front yard.
Goodbye to the tantalizing fragrance of the candy cupboard, and all the times I snitched prohibited Reeses or Wilhelmina mints.
Goodbye to the dining room table that marked celebrations of countless holidays, and the corner china cabinet that held our mini Bible story books on the lowest shelf.
Goodbye to the couch on which I spent Christmas Eves' nights of sleep, in great anticipation.
Goodbye to the crayons in the cupboard.
Goodbye to the piano room, and all the caroling that occurred there.
Farewell to the kitchen, the hub of family life together.

Goodbye to the staircase with the landing, that I always found so fascinating and Slinky-ful.
Goodbye to the various bedrooms upstairs that belonged to aunts and uncle and Mom through the years.
Goodbye to the bathroom, the linen closet, the hallways.
Goodbye to Poppy's office, always crammed with papers and decorated with a lovely, nearly shocking amount of sailboats.
Farewell to that attic--the grandchildren's playroom, only after it was the children's--choc-full of records, babydolls, antique children's chairs, the toy kitchen, archaic board games, and books. I will never forget the absolutely perfect smell of summer in the attic.

Goodbye to the toolshed, boat shed, raspberry bush, the antique well, badminton net, "outhouse", trees, flagpole, creek, forest, birdhouse, red house replica dog house, driveway, and the front rock.

So, I suppose what made me feel like this farewell grew me up was the realization that this goodbye was needed as a reminder that the lovely, cherished moments are still with me. They are found in the people I treasure, not in the building. It's like the difference between "house" and "home"; one means more the building, and one more the memories and sentiments and people.

Either way, both the red house and my family I will, as Poppy once said, "treasure always".

Rest in peace, Poppy. Shalom. I'll see you there someday soon.
xox

variation on a theme, in another's words

Keep walking, though there's no place to get to.

Don't try to see through the distances. That's not

    for human beings.

Move within, but don't move the way fear makes 

    you move.

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and 

    frightened.

Don't open the door to the study

and begin reading. Take down a musical 

    instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the 

    ground.

--Rumi

After a lengthy hiatus...

Why, hello there. I seem to have forgotten I have viewers/readers. Life has gotten, I must say, rather mundane again. It has a tendency of doing that. But I guess I still do have some observations and anecdotes to share with the general public.

One of them is that I forgot how much I enjoy summertime. I usually do not like for school to be over--partly academically, partly socially--but then I get to stay up late with my best friends watching multiple Paul Newman films (mmm), or blow bubbles and draw with sidewalk chalk with a group of friends mid-afternoon just because we can, or staying up all night, sleeping in, and doing lots of bike riding and yoga-ing. That is when it is nice to be back in Wheaton.

I have also been lately wondering why this summer I do not have a job. I had a job lined up for this summer last fall, before I started traveling, but things at the office changed and that was not an option when I got back. But, it was also too late to plausibly pursue other options. There was also the fact that my summer schedule will not really put me in good standing to get hired; two weeks here, two weeks away, etc. My mom started commenting, "You should really get a job for the summer." Oh boy. Now, finding work had become an actually important stress.
I wanted to protest, maybe more to explain the whole thing to myself than to my mother: "But I've been working all year--I just haven't been paid. I have been learning and thinking and growing and stretching and observing and listening and waiting and trying

                                                                       SO


                                                 HARD.
This is not the beginning of an era of laziness--not even Latin America could truly cause that 180-degree change in my personality. Don't worry. I have no designs of mooching all my life. I have just taken this time to put the learning and the discovery before materialism, just as I set out to last fall. I am healing, growing more, changing, reacting, putting-into-place, preparing, and processing life this summer. That's the job ahead of me. Its only salary comes in non-monetary goodness: peace (putting things to rest), joy (in new things I now know I love), and maturity."

After making known those things to myself, and explaining them to Mom (whose core concerns, it turns out, were more against my very possible summer boredom than about the laziness of it all), we both realized that I am "redefin[ing my]self, not by all [I] do, but how [I] choose to serve and grow....[that I am] lying fallow for a purpose right now". 

My dad's comment on the same conversation was this: "[S]sometimes the purpose may be realized not in what you do, accomplish, or change, but just as much with how God is molding you amidst the relative quiet."


So, several things came out of this. A new, peaceful state of mind when approaching this seemingly lazy and slobbishly unemployed summer. The re-realization that I have amazing parents that really do mean the best. And that God holds every moment, shapes every moment; not that I have to look for his reasoning or try to make out the story from his omniscient point of view. After all, the best novels and fables and stories unravel in a way that the characters cannot predict but the Author can appreciate. No, I'll leave to him the omniscience; for now, I will accept the fact that he is here in Wheaton with me, too, just as he was in Argentina and Colombia, and that now--as then--he is teaching me, and my work is to be receptive.


xox

These are a few of my faaaavorite things... :)

I have been re-remembering, re-noticing, re-observing my Wheaton life, and making note of all the things that I love about this area. This is for when Colombian or Argentine friends finally come to visit me--the parts of the United States closest and dearest to me.

• Lawson field (home to many great afternoons with Kipper and/or evenings stargazing)
• Cantigny park (tanks and roses--a perfect symbiosis)
• Immanuel Presbyterian Church
• La Roca Eterna Church
• Wheaton North High School
• Oberweis ice cream
• Prairie Path (good long summer bike rides)
• Cosley Zoo (particularly when the lambs are born)
• Glen Art Theater (for an afternoon movie on a rainy day in the tiniest, cutest, cleanest theater I know)
• Wheaton College
• Einstein Bros. Bagels (because they do not have bagels in South America)
• Dunkin Donuts (the Dunkin in S. Am. is very latinized--and tasty--but the original would be cool to show)
• the Metra (train into the city--double-decker would be a big difference!)
• downtown Wheaton
• Tate's Old Fashioned Ice Cream
• Popcorn Shop
• Adam's Park
• Mai Thai Restaurant
• Wheaton Public Library

then if we extend the bounds of the tour to the city...

• beach
• Millenium Park summer concerts (with a picnic on the lawn)
• Shedd Aquarium
• The Cheesecake Factory (US-sized portions of very good food :) )

then if we extend to the midwest...

• Michigan or Indiana sand dunes
• the prairie sky :)

then to Pennsylvania...

• Erie
• orange-and-vanilla-twist ice cream at Sarah's
• the beaches of the Peninsula
• Nana & Poppy's old house
• Red Hots (greeeeeasy little diner with fantastic chili cheese fries)
• Philadelphia
• Eastern U's campus
• Q Mart (a weekend flea market in Quakertown)
• the Liberty Bell

I hope this list inspires you to think of what places YOU consider to be lovely treasures in your own neck of the woods. All places were created to be enjoyed to the fullest. And shared with good friends.

xox

Compare and Contrast

As I sit here, typing in English and singing in Spanish, I think it an appropriate setting to unleash my observations as to the similarities and differences between my hometown Chicago/Wheaton and Bogotá, or perhaps, my South American experiences in general. Plus, this song has such a fun rhythm. Well worth checking out here. Even if you don't understand a word. :)

For starters, public transportation has been a big switch. Here, with my thrice weekly rides on the Metra to Chicago, my pocketbook was the first to notice a difference. One ticket, $7. I told some of my Colombian friends this--their response was something to the tune of, "Really?? What, do they serve you breakfast or something?" Nope. Just that first, ours is not government subsidized (Argentina, and I think Colombia as well). Second, that good old fashioned capitalism and greed drove the bigshot owners to snitch millions from the Metra's profits before they all found out, so, now we're paying to make up the difference. Another difference in public transport, though, is the return to personal space I have begun to notice (/lament). Everyone keeps walking through a train car of half empty seats desperately searching for that one space where we won't be required to share air, or conversely, where we will not potentially offend someone with our closeness. A third difference lies in consumption of alcohol. In the public transport system in Bogotá, I do not believe I ever once saw a person holding an alcoholic drink. Certainly, undeniably, I saw dozens upon dozens of rather tipsy or downright inebriated passengers, but they never brought the offending substance in with them, even late at night. Whereas, on my (so far) only night ride back from Chicago involved several tipsy someones and several beer holders. Just interesting to me that specifically in Chicago (as a friend asserted that you'd never see such persons on Boston public transport) our independence, or at least self-perception and belief in personal freedoms, has led this to be socially acceptable. Seems a bit off. At the same time, I never saw in Colombian or Argentine children quite the same excitement at riding in trains. Mostly due to its daily reality and familiarity for those South American children whose parents don't have the time or money to drive places, children shuffle or are pulled around the stations and buses with general looks of nonchalance. Meanwhile, the little girl I had the pleasure of noticing yesterday brought a joyful smile to my face with just her exuberance at being on the train's upper level.
As a beautiful side story, I shall here indulge us with this little girl's choice of train activity. First of all, she had elected to sit in the upper level of the train (another part of our train system that doesn't exist in our Bogotá or Buenos Aires neighbors). Secondly, she was carrying a stylish pink purse, that was apparently deceivingly spacious: she proceeded to pull forth from it an entire tea-for-two set, also pink, and place lovingly each item on her father's lap. She burbled happily about the tea set, the scenery outside, how the tea party was to proceed, and all manner of things as she readied things. The lucky father let her do her thing and fuddled with his iPhone until she was ready for him to actually participate in all her musings. When the time came for me to exit the train, partaking of the tea had only just commenced. I half wanted to congratulate her Little Majesty on the excellence of her tea party, but I liked the image too much as it was, and let them be, un-self-consciously.

On to an area of similarity, albeit loose similarity. During my time in Bogotá and Argentina, I may have blogged mentioning the Recyclers that take on the job of rooting through everyone's trash looking for recyclable items to resell for a pittance on which they, their families, and often the work horse must live. Incredibly hard workers, incredibly discouraged and hardy folk. Anyhow, all that to say I saw one Recycler in Chicago one day on my second week at CVLS: an African American fellow, perhaps in his thirties somewhere, rolling a moving box on wheels around the area where I work, picking up valuable looking knick-knacks. I wanted to peek into the box as he passed, but as I had no reason to stare, I just walked on while silently thanking him for being a fond reminder to pray for the needs of Chicago as well as Bogotá and Buenos Aires. The proceeding week, that would be this week, I found myself really desiring to reach out to some of the homeless people I see on my walk to work, almost daily. Having prayed about it all weekend, on Monday when I got off the train, I picked up a hot chocolate at the station on my way out. Not knowing exactly for whom my little gift of heat and tastiness was destined, I walked on, across the bridge where usually there are two people asking for help and today there were none. I walked on past the Civic Opera House. I walked on to that corner and peered around to see if the other bridge was being manned by the fellow who usually sits there, asking. Not to be seen anywhere. So, as I turned to face the direction of the office a bit downtrodden--as heading in that direction I rarely see anyone who would be in quite as great a need of some hot cocoa--I saw the Recycler. Of course, Father, I thought. Thank you. He walked across the street towards my side, and I waited for him to get onto the sidewalk before saying, "Excuse me, sir? You look like you could use some hot chocolate. Would you like this?" And I extended my arm in faith. Oh, yes please, ma'am, he uttered in almost a whisper. God bless you.


God bless me? The little suburban white girl who just had enough money for a train fare, a give-away hot chocolate, all the clothes she had bought herself, and the food she had packed with her for lunch? God bless you. And I hadn't even mentioned anything about how much Jesus loves him, is caring for him, and notices all that he is struggling with right now and always. God bless you.

Humility and gratitude and graciousness, when truly lived out with genuine good heart, change an entire week for someone.

That's universal.
xox

lunch break post

Back to work. Well, relative to Spring Break skiing, it's work. But it is only a three-day week. :)

I have started my internship with Chicago Volunteer Legal Services, and am back at home for a couple months. First of all, let's discuss this internship and what it involves, and why I'm doing it.

I am thinking that, potentially, a career combo of Spanish and law could be killer cool. As is my custom, though, I did not want to even approach that possibility without a tad of experience or testing it out. So this time at CVLS is like an observation period. I am a little sponge. I love hearing the office's conversations and phone calls, and at some point I will get to go to mediations with them, and even to court. Sweeeeeet. For the moment, however, I am doing intern-y things. Things I like, things. :) Have I ever mentioned in this blog how much I love Office Depot? Yeah. It's quite possibly my favorite store ever. Anyway, so the things I am doing--entering in case information to the database, making copies, sending out letters, scanning mass amounts of documents, making small calls--are very fulfilling. Also, they tend to be somewhat mindless, so I can easily take in my surroundings and learn.

It is good to be in a city again. Three days a week is better than none. I am slowly realizing the draw of basically all young people worldwide to the cities rather than the suburbs. There's nothing to doooooo. Especially because all my friends are in school--either high school or college--and, therefore, busy. So I have ended up in the gym every day (a plus! I'm not complaining!) and/or helping with math homework (sisters...) and/or skyping Colombia, because, OH YEAH, I left my heart behind. woops.

I mean, don't get me wrong, it is great to be back with my family again, but last week and this, I have felt some serious Bogota-withdrawal. There were always street arepas, coffee shops with real coffee, friends around and about to go out with, and modes of public transportation that trump battling it out with your sister for the family car.
The other thing is that it's strange to live at home and NOT be studying anything. I feel like I should be in high school or something. Because while living in the gray house here in Wheaton, it's all I ever did. Limbo till August will be strange...

Ah well. Here's hoping I am back there in South America soon. (July, perhaps? :) )
Hope you've had a pleasant week so far! It's almost Friday. Hang in there.
xox