Halloween and Dia De Los Muertos

I love Halloween. It wasn't until this year that I realized just how much I enjoyed the festive holiday full of scares and pumpkins and trick or treaters! Two weekends before Halloween I spent a good part of a Saturday making my Halloween costume from scratch. Talk about Simple Living. I used all sorts of stuff from around the house, paper plates, the straps from paper bags and markers and before long my costume was completed and our kitchen table was transformed from an altar of cleanliness to a creative chaotic creature. It was fun. A couple of nights before, in an effort to put myself to sleep at 1 in the morning, I had decorated our house with a group of black construction paper bats. Everything was ready for the spirit of Halloween. 

As part of Halloween this year, there were two major days to celebrate. One was the weekend before when 5 of our 6 housemembers road-tripped to San Diego where we spent the night in festivities with the JV house there. It was on this trip that I was told that my mask was "terrifying". I'd forgotten to cut a mouth, though there was one in marker, so I ditched the mask partway through the night. It was a fun event, full of exploring the beaches of San Diego, treating ourselves by going out to eat and just getting to know the San Diego girls who we'd met at orientation months ago. Seeing how they were growing in community was very interesting and they threw an awesome party. 

Some of my casamates considered this the end of Halloween. But it's not over until it's over. One of IMPACTO's major celebrations through the year is the Haunted House on Halloween day and I was excited for it. From past years I had been told it would be a very stressful time and for the entire month I'd been fearing the stress that Halloween would bring. When the day came down to it, though, it went well. Not flawlessly, but well. After trick or treating at the beginning of the afternoon, it was nearly an hour before the Haunted House was up and running, a veritable exercise in patience with me being told "five more minutes" and then having to keep saying "soon" to a group of elementary kids. Then once it started I had the pleasure of going through 3 or 4 times with various groups of the elementary students,  who more often than not clung tightly to one or both of my arms. Despite the kids who cried because they were so scared by the middle schoolers who were running the show, it was a thrilling event and went as smoothly as could be hoped. 

Quickly on Halloween's tail, with a brief interlude for Christmas music thanks to one of my casamates who is obsessed with the December holiday, was Dia De los Muertos, day of the dead. Though I'd studied abroad in Venezuela, I'd never been in a place that celebrated this holiday. It was an eye opening experience. First off, I discovered to my surprise that, despite talking about the celebration and history behind it in IMPACTO, not all of the kids celebrated the holiday and when they were given a writing assignment about the holiday I had to pull some of their teeth to get them to write anything. Then there was the actual event, which included face painting, which left the kids with white faces looking like decorated skulls. Around 5:30 we met up with a procession of other people on their way to the big Dia De Los Muertos celebrations in the area, just a block or two from our house. The procession included gigantic skulls towering above the crowd, drums, and traditional Aztec dancers. After the procession, the staff, including myself, walked the kids home, munching on Halloween candy as we went. 

This wasn't the end of the celebration, though, not by a long shot. The same night there was a poetry event at Homeboy, a gang reformation center. Because of the procession, I hadn't thought I'd be able to attend, but as luck would have it one of my roommates had her parents' car and gave me a ride to the event. It was a soul touching, healing experience, to hear these former gangmembers speak about love, life, and death. All the while, in our midst was an altar decorated for Dia De Los Muertos to remember the dead. 

At the end of the night, a group of us returned to the large celebration a few blocks down. We browsed through the vendors' collections, most of which were artwork and t-shirts decorated with skulls. There was great Mexican food and a live band. Then there were the altars inside. The artwork was indescribable and I only managed to get a few pictures, but even then felt as though I were photographing a cemetery or a tomb. When all was said and done, it was a powerful week and seeing the two traditions so close to each other was particularly moving. It was an October/November week to remember. 

October Update

I think it's safe to say I haven't been updating this blog as much as I'd hoped. The numbers show it too. It's been nearly 3 months since I arrived here in California and I've only posted once. Perhaps the trick from now on is to post in bursts, writing something and then posting it once it's been typed up. Hopefully I'll figure out a good way to keep the folks back home updated on a more regular basis, since I only have time to make so many phone calls.

Life in Boyle Heights has been energetic. Halloween is coming, which means the Haunted House at work, to be held on the 31st of October. It's been fun helping to set that up and just seeing how excited the kids are to either work on it or to be scared by it. My Halloween costume is all set for our trip to San Diego this weekend to visit another JV house which will be hosting a rocking awesome party. I'll be a moose. I spent a better part of the day on Saturday making my costume out of stuff we had gathered around the house, paper plates, markers, the ends of old grocery bags for the horns.

In the spirit of Halloween, we also had a movie night this past Friday at work as a Fundraiser for the High School's upcoming trip. We watched the Goonies, and be "we" I mean myself and a handful of the elementary & middle school students. I'd never seen it before, but thoroughly enjoyed myself.

On a completely different note, our community is challenging each other to become more vulnerable and to truly let this experience touch us. This JVC year, to me is about revealing my brokenness and allowing the brokenness of the people around us to unite so we can walk beside each other in our brokenness, and find healing. The kids here don't tell me traumatizing stories every day, but every so often one of them will start crying because they're frustrated with their homework, or frustrated with life in general. Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't do well when people look sad. Heck, I don't even do well when animated animals look sad (no joke, ask my sister.); how much more vulnerable and uncomfortable do I feel when kids that I work with and care about come to me and are crying. It's hard to deal with because sometimes I can be gentle, but other times I have to be firm and just tell them to quit crying and finish their homework. It's one of the hardest parts of this experience for me, seeing others vulnerable and being helpless to help them.

On that note, there is still hope. As a part of our weekly community nights last night, we watched Fr. G and the Homeboys, a documentary about Homeboy industries and the work they do in our neighborhood. *Side note, if anyone is interested in learning more about Boyle Heights/Homeboy, I highly recommend reading Tatoos on the Heart. Boyle Heights improving; there is hope and I have the pleasure to see that every day in my kids as they get better and better at schoolwork and, hopefully, become better people. I know I'm becoming a better person for the interactions that I have with them, my coworkers and, most importantly my roommates. We laugh, we complain, we watch the debates, we challenge each other and I can't wait for what else this year brings.

The first Three Weeks

It's been three weeks into my adventure in California and this is the first time I've managed to actually sit down and write about it in a way that people will be reading. It feels like there's no good, concise way to sum up the last month or so, but I'll do my best.

Since all voyages must have a beginning, mine started with a train ride from Omaha, NE to San Jose, CA. It was long, but definitely worth it. I met some interesting people, including a lady from Spain, now living in D.C., who loves to tell stories and a man who was very confused by my wearing University of Minnesota sweat pants and a Reeths-Puffer high school shirt. Equally confusing to most people were my huge suitcase and guitar, the only 2 pieces of luggage I took with me on the train. As a matter of fact, 3 weeks later, I'm still living out of that same suitcase, wearing the same clothing that I've been cycling through for the last month. Needless to say, I'm looking forward to the box that's coming from home next week with some extra clothing and other luxuries.

I went through a week of orientation, which included meeting my roommates for the first time, the people I'll be spending the next year with, and 50 other Jesuit Volunteers serving in California. It was a nice transition into the year, complete with walks on the beach, great food and meaningful discussion. And then, after a 6 hour car ride, we arrived in Los Angeles and were welcomed by community members with pizza. As I keep being reminded, this is a year of simple living and taking advantage of free food. The next day we got a tour of the area and the other placement sites of my housemates and I saw where I would be working for the next year. I gotta say, while I was excited, I was also a bit nervous. The nerves sank in even more on the first day. I was the last one out of the house, so I'd seen my housemates embark into their new realities, going out to do various jobs in our neighborhood. I had an easy commute, so thankfully I didn't manage to get lost, (one major fear out of the way!) I read through all sorts of stuff from the previous JV on how to do my job (she had a lot of helpful advice after her year here.) and then I had one day to get used to the office, the staff and to figure out where everything was before the kids arrived the next day. It was nervewracking, but with the help of the other staff I felt somewhat prepared for the next day. With the constant refrain of "be strict with the kids first and their friend second" I braced myself for the elementary.

Now, I can't compare myself to what has been in the past and I certainly can't say that the kids listen to me 100% of the time, but I can say, for the most part, I am having fun. The best part of my day is after the kids show up or when I'm showing people around the place. I'm now beginning my 3rd week of work.

I came into this year, only a couple weeks ago, trying to discern, among other things, if I am being called to be a teacher. I can't answer that yet. If I had a time machine to 2 weeks ago, though, I would tell myself not to worry as much as I did. I know this experience has just begun and I'm looking forward to the paths that will be taken this year. I can already see some progress that I have made with the kids, the fact that they trust me to help them with homework. I am happy in the present.

*There's so much else to tell, like about our first trip to the beach (great time, bad sunburn) or just how great my housemates are, but since my 1st worry of the year was that I would disappoint my placement (job) that's what I wrote about first. The rest will come in time.

Lessons from the Mississippi River:

Last summer, my sister and I spent a couple days at a Shakespeare festival in Winona, MN while camping on the Mississippi River. One deceptively sunny morning, having several hours to kill before the play in the evening, we decided to take a canoe trip on the Mississippi, since our campground rented canoes for a reasonable price and it's something we both enjoy doing. It was supposed to be a really nice day, despite the high waters of the Mississippi caused by recent rainfall. We spent about half an hour trying to figure out how to get to the main channel of the Mississippi, then our attention was drawn elsewhere; there were dark clouds coming straight at us. We had hoped they were just rain clouds since it had been a while since we had seen a solid piece of land on which we could make port, but our hopes of this soon vanished as we heard a rumbling approaching from the cloud. We immediately began scanning the horizon for any sort of land on which we could escape the encroaching storm and, just as the clouds and rain were beginning to overtake us, we found a thin stretch of land, partially, but not entirely underwater. We pulled the canoe ashore and the thunderstorm began. I took out my cell phone, desperate to tell someone where we were, only to discover that it had died; some water had probably managed to leak into the bag. We were stranded, just to two of us, in a thunderstorm, on an island with an abundance of trees, any one of which could easily be struck by lightning at any moment. We passed the time, singing random songs, shrieking at the storm to cease, and, above all, praying that we'd survive. Even during the storm, it dawned on me, that the situation had an odd similarity to the Biblical account of Jesus sleeping through a storm on the boat. My sister and I were like the disciples, crying out for Him to save us because we thought we were going to die. Eventually the storm abated and we high-tailed it back to shore without incident, thanking God that He had finally commanded "Peace, be still!"

This year we got to experience another Bible story first-hand: The Good Samaritan. We went canoeing again, this time making sure to ask whether there were any storms in the forecast. This time we had a plan; we were going to go for about an hour and a half down the river, turn around, come back and make the 2 pm matinee of King Lear. The first part of that went well. We made it to the actual river this time, not just a tributary and heard the noon-bells chime from one of the local churches. We were all set to turn around, but then we spent about 15 minutes paddling before realizing that we were getting absolutely nowhere. Since the cell phone once again wasn't working, this time due to lack of reception, we decided to follow the river, since, like it or not, that seemed to be our only option and hope that there would be a branch off that would take us to camp. Well, we'd been going on this plan for about an hour and a half, with no sign of a path to lead us back to the camp. By this time we'd given up on getting back in time for the play and were just trying to figure out how to get back. That was when our first "Good Samaritan" came along, tied our canoe up to the back of his motorboat and towed us quite a ways until the waters were calmer. He let us go there, telling us to wave someone else down if it got too hard going upstream. We did well for quite a stretch there, but then the current got stronger again and once again we were taking 2 strokes back for every forward stroke. We finally resorted to coming close to the shore and trying to grab hold of branches to inch the canoe a little ways upstream. We tried to wave a couple boats down, but they just laughed at us. There got to be a cluster of 3 or 4 other boats there, talking among themselves & saying that we needed help because we were clearly not making any progress. It wasn't until two sympathetic gentlemen in a motorboat heading upstream came along that we actually got help. They came over to us and gave us a tow all the way back to our campsite. If this duo of "Good Samaritans" hadn't come along, I'm sure we would have still been sitting right were we were when they made their trip back downstream. It might not seem like a big deal to give someone a tow when they're indeed, but I'm convinced that actions like this, large  or small are exactly what Jesus meant when he instructed us to "Love your neighbor as yourself" and I'm very grateful to those who have been Good Samaritans to me.

June 29, 2012
Anticipation:

For the past year, like many newly-graduated college students, I've been unemployed. I graduated from college in June 2011, full of ambition. I applied and interviewed for several jobs, from working at a company that is responsible for medical software, to being a teacher in Korea, to being a theatre director in a high school, but finally, just a few weeks ago accepted a position with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps in Los Angeles California, working with an after school program in a Latino neighborhood.  This is a position in which I know I'll be able to make a difference in a community. This isn't a decision that has been entirely supported, some of my friends questioned my desire to do a year of volunteer work, not getting much of a salary to speak of. There are other aspects of my year ahead that might strike others as odd; for example, part of my commitment to JVC was commitment to living simply. I'm planning on not bringing my computer or my car with me and will be focusing on the people in my life rather than material devices that society encourages. My brother, who thoroughly enjoys spending hours on the computer, when I told him about my decision.

Another of the JVC's values is Spirituality. This is nothing new to me; I was raised Roman Catholic and am very firmly practising my faith. However, I'm certain that this experience will stretch and test my faith, something I look forward to. I don't know all the details of the journey ahead, but I am sure there will be trials as well as joys.

 In one month, I start a new phase in a new city in a new state, one to which I've never been. Along with that are so many feelings, including both excitement and worry at being so far from home. I've studied abroad before, twice, but this is different. I'll be serving and taking responsibility for my actions in ways that will affect others a lot. I'll be working with young people, which I view as a huge responsibility. Over the last year, I had the opportunity to touch the lives of other youth, both in my family and in my parish, particularly my younger brother, my TEC community, and my religious education class. Since many members of my family have been part of the education system, I've always placed a high value on influencing young minds. As such, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little intimidated by the my future position. And that's when I find myself worrying about the future, an action that seems all too common these days.

I'm reminded that no one can add to their life by worrying, both by my past experiences, by songs on the radio and by my prime examples, my parents. Worrying will change nothing, so enjoy where you are, work hard, and trust that everything will turn out all right. There's a country song that's been on the radio lately called "Don't Miss Your Life" . I've had a lot of driving to do back and forth and as radio stations tend to play the same songs over and over, I've heard it a lot. The theme is familiar and simple, take advantage of the time you've got because there's no going back, but it's always good to have a reminder, especially as the future keeps galloping forward. In a month I will move from Minnesota to Los Angeles, CA, but for now I am here. In the meantime I will enjoy rehearsals for the local community play, my brother's baseball games, and the daily life in a small town in Minnesota, because it might not be the same again. Life is what happens while you wait for the big events.