Short on time, long on ideas…
Until such a time as I collect my thoughts, I love this post about praying for short-term mission trips to be disastrous… in all the right ways. I have some serious misgivings about those wonderful things we call short-term mission trips and I appreciated the sentiments expressed by the author here.
Today has been a satisfying day.
My major case presentation has arrived back with minimal revisions necessary. I was a little bit worried as the prof who is my reviewer was one who was a fairly hard marker during the coursework. But there are only about 4 paragraphs that he wants reworked. Not too bad.
I bused out to a friend’s house – 45 min – to borrow a bicycle in anticipation of a friend visiting for the weekend. The cycle home along the Galloping Goose Trail was lovely, if hot, and there were some incredible views of the straight of Juan de Fuca and the Olympic mountains.
I threw together dinner, but it was tasty and satisfying. Really, anything that includes broccoli is a win in my book.
Pulled the ukulele out and played for the first time in awhile. I might just have enough competence regained to bring it with me on SALTS in 3 weeks time. I have decided that a ukulele is a better size than a guitar for travelling and for bringing on a tall ship. I can always borrow a guitar on board because there are usually a few kicking around.
I’m wearing my newest slippers. I made them out of a sweater that I accidentally shrunk a little. It was a favourite sweater that I bought in Japan and was super cozy and comfortable. However, in washing it, it shrunk a little – too much to be wearable. I couldn’t bear to part with it, so I felted it and have now cut and sewn it into slippers. Sweater slippers. Possibly the most comfortable thing ever.
I have been reflecting on the news coming out of East Africa. Now that it is officially a famine, people are beginning to pay attention to what others have been warning about for years.
Two years ago, I had the privilege of visiting Kenya and spending time talking with many incredible people about their lives and their experiences. I was visiting my Dad and Stepmother, who volunteer with a relief organization and who were at the time overseeing a food distribution project in parts of Kenya that had been hit hard by a lack of rain for several years.
As a part of their work, we had discussions with groups of individuals in each village we went to in order to learn more about the people of that village and what their particular needs were. I will never forget one man’s response when asked how his village was faring, Some people in my village have found chemical drugs. Because you bring us food, we will not have to use them. The pain, or shame, of being unable to feed your family must be unbearable. And now it is happening on an even larger scale than even two years ago when I visited Kenya. At the time, I ranted about water use. In a post on Dad’s blog, I wrote:
Since we arrived here we have been able to take part in four food distributions in vastly different areas of the country. While each community has unique challenges and situations, they are united by a need for food relief brought on by a lack of rain. In each place, we sat down with a small group of villagers to find out how they are coping, and in each place we heard a similar story: The rains have not come. In many cases, the rains have not come for three or four years. We have heard stories of livestock (and therefore livelihood) dying for lack of rain. We have heard stories of repeated crop failure so that now there are no seeds left to plant. … We visit villagers and hears stories of drought: “If only we had a borehole/proper irrigation/a pump…” – whatever it may be that they need to get water.
I am not going to make an impassioned plea for your money for Africa. But I will say this, CIDA is currently matching donations, dollar for dollar, for the “Horn of Africa Drought”. If you are looking for a good organization to go through, I can vouch for PWRDF and our partner organizations in East Africa.
My sister is moving to South Africa – in a little over a week. To say I am jealous would be an understatement (though, as she pointed out, after sailing around the Pacific I really haven’t got a leg to stand on). I’m going to miss spontaneous phone conversations at all hours of the day, but I know we’ll keep connected and I know she is going to have an incredible experience.
You might be wondering what on earth would take her to South Africa, I asked her to share a little about what she will be doing because I think that it is something that many of my friends could relate to and may want to think about supporting. In her words…
Hello, friends of my darling big sister!
I am embarking on a really fantastic adventure and Gillian mentioned that she has lots of “artsy and musicy friends” who might be interested in hearing about it. I’m taking off for South Africa at the beginning of August to teach music in a very rural part of the country.
My destination is Hamburg, on the coast of the Eastern Cape. The Keiskamma Trust has been active in this area for almost ten years, bringing hope to one of the poorest regions of the country by combining health and art to heal both body and spirit. In addition to running a health clinic to deal with the high incidence of HIV/AIDS (approximately 35%), they manage art projects that help the local Xhosa people express their struggle for reconciliation through photography, embroidery, and pottery. Some of their major projects have included the Keiskamma Tapestry and the Keiskamma altarpiece. For the past five years, children in the area have had the opportunity to receive music lessons through the Keiskamma Music Academy, providing them with an opportunity for creativity and development that would otherwise be far beyond their means.
I was originally put in touch with the Keiskamma Trust because they need a recorder teacher (recorder is the main instrument taught at the music academy), and I am one of that rare breed that has a university education in recorder performance. As I learned more about the organization I was impressed by their holistic approach to health and by the high musical standards of the Academy. I’m inspired by their core belief that health is more than food and bread but also includes quality of life and opportunities for becoming more than our lot in life would dictate.
I’ve agreed to go over to Hamburg to teach for at least the next six months because I know that music has made a difference in my life and in the lives of my friends. I believe many of us would agree that our sense of human-ness comes from the ability to express ourselves through our art. It’s a privilege for me to give the opportunity of musicmaking to others.
A few of my own music-loving friends have asked if the Music Academy needs anything in the way of music or instruments. The students use plastic Yamaha recorders, which have worked well, but as the music program grows they are running out of instruments and could use several more sopranos and altos. These instruments seem very inexpensive to us but are completely unaffordable for these students.
I don’t have room in my bag for instruments, but if anyone is interested in sponsoring a recorder please let me know. It would be easy for me to take money over to South Africa and purchase instruments there. Please contact Gillian or myself if you’re interested and we can make arrangements. I promise to send photos of the recorders in action 🙂
Also, I will try my best to send out sporadic indications by email that I am still alive. If you want to receive these glad tidings of music making on the other side of the world, let me know! (You don’t need to help purchase instruments to get on that mailing list.)
Thanks for reading all the way to the bottom of this message from someone you don’t know, and blessings on your own artistic and musical pursuits!
Jen
We went to see the final Harry Potter movie tonight.
It was bittersweet. Sweet because it was a much anticipated and much enjoyed film. Bitter because it was the end of an era of Harry Potter movies.
I was a late(r) comer to the whole series. I didn’t begin to read the books until the first one had already been made into a movie and was playing in the theatres. And I came to the whole series, print or film, quite reluctantly.
I am one of those people who doesn’t like to read a book just because everyone else is reading it. If Oprah has put it on her book list and I haven’t read it, I likely won’t. If I read it before Oprah, I will make sure you know that I found it first. If a book or series is a “must read”, I may wait to read it or skip reading it altogether (still haven’t read Twilight. At this point, it is a matter of principle that I am not going to). I like to find the hidden gems and read them. If a popular book is a genuinely good book and it catches my attention independently of best-seller lists, I might read it anyway… but I’m a book snob.
I am also one of those people who likes to read the book before I see the film and usually prefers the book to the film. I can often be heard saying, “Well, the movie was good but the books was better” or, “They totally messed up the book and changed that whole scene around, cutting out some of my favourite parts”. Don’t be fooled. I probably liked the film just as much, sometimes I just want to sound pretentious.
One summer, about 10 years ago, around the time the first Harry Potter film hit theatres, I was visiting my grandparents in Ontario. I had not read Harry Potter. I had no intention of reading Harry Potter. Harry Potter was entirely too popular for me. My intentions vanished however when my grandfather expressed his dismay and disappointment in me for not having read the books. Not being one who likes to disappoint people, I paid attention.
The first movie is out in theatres. We are going to see the matinee tomorrow afternoon. I have been waiting to watch it with you.
Okay. I don’t really know what it is about, but I’m looking forward to going to a movie with you.
What?! You haven’t read the books? Come here… we walk into the bedroom with the computer desk and some of the treasured books… I have all the ones that have been published. Here, this is the first one. Go sit down and read. We aren’t going to the movie until you’ve finished it.
Um. Okay Grandpa. [For the record, I managed to get 3/4 of the way through book one before we went to the matinee less than 24 hours after I was handed the book and told to “READ”!]
Apparently I come by my refusal to watch movies before reading books honestly. I also do what I’m told.
So Grandpa, I wish I could have watched all of the movies with you and that you had been able to read the entire story from beginning to end. It was a good one. Thanks for getting me started on it.
Some late night, only slightly coherent ramblings as they cross my mind. Written here mainly because my computer is on my lap and my journal is out of reach.
I am reading the Old Testament lesson next Sunday (Genesis 29:15-28 for those of you who do not have the lectionary at your fingertips). After being sent the reading this evening, I was looking it over to see what I’ll be reading next week. Wow. Jacob worked for 7 years before getting what (who) he wanted. And I am whining about 1 or 2 years of school or work before “getting there” (unsure where “there” is at the moment).
So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her.
Puts things into perspective. I don’t know whether to hope that this time of not knowing what I am doing or where I am going passes quickly or mourn the lost time as time spent doing something other than what I would like to be doing.
About 18 months ago, I had a Grace in Small Things project underway. I got to 56 days of my planned 365 and then things fell by the wayside. The goal was to acknowledge and recognize five things that were good in my day, and to practice that for a year. It was a big commitment. Since I struggle to get a photo up every week on Friday, I am not sure how I thought I could complete daily postings for a year.
The practice, however, was a good one. It reminds me of a part of the practice of Ignatian Examen: to review the events of the day with gratitude, focusing on the people interacted with, the the gifts of the day, and the blessings of small things: conversations, good food eaten, and things seen. It is a good practice.
As I sit here at the kitchen table with good music playing, a mug of Jasmine tea from my last trip to China, and the remnant of my birthday chocolate, I am reminded of these good things. The small things, the simple things that bring joy in life.
I had a killer [bad] day. It was my fourth day in a row of work (three in optometry, one in counselling) and around hour six, I hit the wall of “I. Can. Go. No. Further.”. With two more hours to go, it was a struggle to make it. After dropping off the bank deposit from work I decided to hop into the local Japanese grocery store next door and pick up some miso soup to have with my veggi stirfry for dinner. I have a weakness for good miso soup and they make a good one. (Speaking of miso soup, this is a hilarious job posting!) When I arrived at the store, all their sushi was discounted 50% off. So I had some gyoza and oysters with my stirfry and miso. What a find!
Other joys in my day? I love some of the girls I work with; they are such a blessing and so much fun. I’m going to miss seeing them a few times a week when I finally get my counselling job. My thesis is finished: all I need is a title and I can submit it. I had a brief, but funny conversation with my sister. I love her. I got a wonderful email from a friend. My tea was perfect and hit the spot and soothed my stomach. I spent some time sewing a belt to wear later this week. Dinner has left me more than satisfied. I have leftover sushi for lunch. The smell of grass and rain.
Sunshine? Check.
Beach? Check.
Fireworks? Check.
Good food? Check.
Friends and family? Check.
Ahhh…. what a long weekend.
I like to do retrospectives from time to time… not long-winded narratives of life but “This Day in History” sorts of things. It is a fun opportunity to reflect back on events that have happened in one’s life and to recall stories connected with those events. My memory usually works best at thinking back on special days, so Canada Day it is. It occurred to me the other day that I haven’t been in the same place on Canada Day for at least the last five years:
2011: I’m in Vancouver, hanging out with the fam.
2010: Victoria! I think this was the first/only time I have been in Victoria for Canada Day. It is certainly the first time I was down watching the fireworks in the Inner Harbour. It gets a little crazy down there, but the show is pretty fun, and even more fun when there are good people to hang out with.
2009: Kenya! We went and visited the parents in Kenya and were on a food distribution around Mt. Kenya. Dad brought some flags and so there were lots of pictures taken with us and the Samburu women (Dad had some pictures on his blog.) I don’t think the Kenyan women had any idea what was going on, but they were all too eager to pose for photos with us, and with the food we brought.
2008: Montreal. I don’t think we went to the fireworks that night, if there even were any! We went to the ones the week before for the National Holiday of Quebec. On Canada Day I’m pretty sure we wandered around the Old Town before heading to the Atwater Market (a must-visit destination if in Montreal in the summer) and then retiring at home with a movie. Or a brown paper bag in the park. Either way, it was a fun visit with my sister in my first few weeks home from the epic Offshore voyage.
2007: Honolulu. On Offshore, we were in Honolulu for Canada Day and the 4th of July. Needless to say, the locals celebrated the latter, and celebrate they did. I was partially in awe of and partially disgusted by the whole performance. Our ship was docked at a wharf typically used for cruise ships, and the fireworks were in the area of the harbour just off from the wharf. We just stood on the end of the dock and watched the show while patriotic music was blared over the loudspeaker system. Maybe it is the understated Canadian in me, but such dramatic (and jingoistic?) patriotism turns me off… But jingoism or not, the fireworks were spectacular.
2006: China. This was the first day of our Global Partnership in China, we’d just arrived in Beijing for orientation before training out to Xining a week later. Hello culture shock! I wrote in my journal on the 2nd… “CHINA!! We arrived really late last night [July 1] – the flight out of Shanghai was late leaving by about an hour. Today we drove out to the Badaling portion of the Great Wall of China. Wow. It is absolutely spectacular! I felt like I was at the top of the world… the wall just keeps going and going. For me, the Great Wall of China is a defining moment about being in China, sort of like the Sydney Opera House was in Australia. It is crazy to realize I’m here. I have no idea what to expect in the next while.”
2005: I would have been in Vancouver. It was two days before Dad and Colleen got married… (Happy Anniversary!) and the family was all gathering. I remember fireworks from the balcony of Dad’s condo, but that might have been New Year’s Eve instead. Either way, 2005 was Vancouver! And weddings!
2004: Australia! Coober Pedy, to be precise (yay journal!). In Coober Pedy I stayed in a hostel that was underground. It is so stinking hot there in the summer, and even in the winter when I was there, that nearly everyone in Coober Pedy lives below ground in old opal mines that have been made into homes. In Coober Pedy, I was nearing the end of my two week trip through the Outback from Darwin up top, through Alice Springs and Uluru, to Coober Pedy and, lastly Adelaide where I met up with a wonderful friend of the family. From there, I headed back to Sydney to hang out with all my friends and former roomies. I can’t believe it has been seven years since I was last there. Apparently a return visit is in order.
2003: I’m pretty sure this one involved standing on the edge of the Fraser River in Fort George Park, Prince George, watching the fireworks with good friends before running away from all the crazy drunks that Canada Day usually brings out. Oh PG. Oh Fort George.
2002: Australia! I was in Sydney, it was days before the beginning of Hillsong Conference, the biggest conference Hillsong Church hosts annually (think 20 000+ people). A friend and I were going to dye our hair red for the occasion, but chickened out. I wasn’t sure how it would go over with all of the delegates from all around the world that I was supposed to be showing around the conference site. In retrospect, it would have been fine, especially as I was assigned to do sound and lighting at the youth part of the conference, but I probably just wanted an excuse not to dye my hair with koolaid.
2001: …
My memory stops there. I have no idea. But, I figure that going back a decade is pretty darn good. So, Happy Canada Day everyone! Enjoy responsibly, wherever you are!
Its amazing what a little regular exercise – the variety that clears the head not the variety that is the enforced cycling from A-B for work – plus the regular eating of good food plus good conversations does to lift one’s mood. Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel of a long paper doesn’t hurt either.
Here’s to new perspectives and long weekends with friends and family!
gillian's island 