Happy non-Turkey Day!

It's Thanksgiving!!!!!!!! We are celebrating this American holiday tonight in the smoldering heat in a tiny house with dozens of people, while my family in Virginia will be spending their holiday in a tiny cabin in the freezing cold mountains. It is bittersweet not being there with them. My sister and I have a big menu of classic Thanksgiving dishes that we're preparing for dinner tonight for the family and boarders at my uncle's house. Which means the girls who usually cook will enjoy free entertainment (again) watching us sweat and scramble trying to figure out their tiny kitchen only equipped with the essentials- a couple gas burners, a sink, and a counter.

 

 

Anyway I haven't posted any pictures because I'm not a good blogger, but here are a few that I pulled from the handful of pictures we've uploaded to the computer.

 

Mangosteen- the new not-so-new super fruit that everyone is crazy about back home right now.

It is actually very yummy.

 

 

But it feels and kinda looks like a brain on the inside.... this picture makes it look less slimy than it really is. (And that's my beautiful mama holding it open)

This is Kristi-Faith. She's four. She's the daughter of a young pastor and his wife that live in a remote village -literally in the bush- about half an hour from Ozamis City. They are so excited because they are finally going to have a church building to meet in with their small congregation. Earlier this year, two of their original five children died inexplicably in the middle of the night. They are still committed to doing the work they feel called to- pastoring their people, giving Help and Hope in every way their sweet family can. Isn't she just the cutest, purdiest thing?

 

 

 And this is me inspecting another buko, coconut, outside of their house for bugs in the water.

 

And this is me conquering the coconut...

I'm a pro now

 

 

 

\

 

Without the duty of work or other obligations here, I've had as much free time to spend reading and thinking and reflecting and dreaming as could ever satisfy my appetite, basically. I've also been getting a lot of pressure... from everyone... to dance at different events while here, and- I don't dance anymore. I don't know how many times I've said that sentence just in the time I've been here. And every time I say it, it feels like I'm driving the nails a little deeper into the boards covering that door in my life. I can't and won't go into all the details, because I'm sure it sounds silly when I say that this one issue has been a point of spiritual struggle and revelation in me since I arrived. I'm like having the biggest inward battle I've face in a really long time and it, on the surface, is about something I thought was totally irrelevant and no longer a part of who I am. Well, dozens of journal entries and conversations and countless prayers later,  I was dancing in the pouring rain on a tiny old basketball court on our street when I realized all the reasons why I gave up dancing in the first place. Silly reasons. Blind decisions. Lies that I believed. Buried dreams. And I just decided that day- I'm going to start dancing again.

 

I hope you all have wonderful, delicious Thanksgivings with the ones you love or whoever you may be lucky enough to be with today, and that you discover something new about yourself or them or the world you live in.



A Great Need

It's been almost two weeks now since typhoon Haiyan (Yolanda) swept through the Philippines, wiping out entire towns- homes, businesses, churches, and schools- that fell into its path. Though these people knew well the warnings of natural disaster, nothing could have prepared them for what is being called the most powerful storm to make landfall in recorded history. From what I know of storm behavior, the brute force of a typical storm will pass over an area within a matter of minutes, an unusually slow-moving one may last twenty or thirty, as do the hurricanes that occasionally pass through my home town, Virginia Beach; but even a few minutes is enough to devastate an area. Typhoon Yolanda was relentless. She hovered over the tiny islands of the central Philippines in full terror for two hours, completely leveling the land.

4,011 lives were lost
18,557 people were significantly injured
and there are 1,602 people still missing and unaccounted for because of the storm.

The church that I am working with here in Ozamis, Philippines has just welcomed back their small, lion-hearted team from their mission of relief to the storm's victims. Their reports are difficult to receive. Maricar and Daris, two team members close to my age who returned this morning, told us that the people are becoming desperate, resorting to robbing from one another and pillaging what relief does come in. Rice sacks have become a common form of shelter in the stead of lost homes, sewn together and strung over branches or rope to serve as make-shift tents and protection from the rain. Children are sick with colds and diarrhea, and their uncovered feet are marked with wounds from stepping on nails and shattered glass that were scattered from the storm. Worse still, the corrupt government has been withholding some of the aid and food that has been sent to relieve the victims and replacing higher quality foreign goods like corned beef and meat with cheaper Filipino products such as canned sardines and tuna. The local government also has been slow to act, true to the nature of many ineffective local governments here in this scrambling nation.

Now the organization that I am working with here and that my mother, a native to Ozamis, started, has been asked by its partner organization ICM to go in to the province of Leyte to bring relief in whatever way we can to the overlooked and unreached victims of Yolanda. Right now we are relying on the possibility of military helicopters designated for lifting US citizens who offer relief into the areas of destruction to take us in. Some funds have been raised for us to bring with us, but as of this morning we have no resources or connections to purchase cheap tents (that the people might use as temporary housing), blankets, or medicine. I feel certain that we've been brought here at this time for the very purpose of contributing to the aid and relief of these people. We need ideas, resources, and funds to bring what we can to Leyte. If you're reading this and you feel led to contribute any of those things please contact me! You probably know how to reach me- facebook, an email, or a comment on this blog. You can also go to www.mindanaoblessings.org and donate there.

It has only been five days that I've been back here on the island of Mindanao since my last visit eight years ago, and already they have been some of the most meaningful days of my life. I have been reconnected to dear loved ones and reintroduced to a family that is far bigger than just those who share the same blood. I have been inspired by those who live so humbly but bear such big, generous hearts. I have seen the meaning of gratitude and sacrificial love expressed by the people I wake up to every morning here and that greet me with the offering of their time and friendship. I have seen the most beautiful sunrise I've ever witnessed over a scenery comparable only to things I've looked at in pictures- that felt like a supernatural experience in itself. I've walked dirt streets lined with chickens and pigs and carabou and laughed at the simplest jokes and looked into the most satisfied eyes in those same places. I've peeled clothes off my skin each night because of the sticky sweat that is inevitable after the hot days here. I've tried exotic fruits that I never knew existed and cracked open young coconuts bigger than my head with machetes to discover the treasure of cool water and the sweetness of its meat inside. I have never lived with less in my life and I have never felt more rich. Life is really an adventure. It never happens the way we expect it to and it never leaves us without something new for our minds and hearts to savor and explore if we take the time to chew slowly.

Thanks for reading and sharing in this experience with me. Again, if there is any way you can help, please, please do. The need is really great- these people are desperate. It's true that it's more fun to give than it is to receive, especially when you think of the real, tangible change that your gift will make in someone's life.

FUNK FUNK FUNK FUNK

Funks have been coming and going with me!! What is the deal? Is this normal for study abroaders?

Plans did not work out tonight, and now this is my dinner because the only thing open on my street is the Asia food market: 

I don't even like wasabi flavoring...

On a more positive note, RATHI GUPTA will be here tomorrow to spend ten days in the lovely land of Italia with me. I'm ecstatic. This is actually a dream of mine, coming true.

A Place to Be Free

I have accepted the fact that I am just a horrible blogger. I'm sure you've done the same a long time ago if you've been trying to follow me.

It's been four days now since we've been home from Barcelona Spring Break. Thinking back to it already makes me feel irrationally nostalgic.

My alarm went off at 4:45am on the Wednesday of break, not that I was actually sleeping for it to wake me, but the bus was departing at 5:30. It took us from Florence to Pisa airport, where we boarded our flight to Girona, where we got on another bus to the center of Barcelona, from which we took a metro close to Be Mar hostel. So 8 hours and a plethora of modes of transportation later, we found ourselves in the lobby of our hostel speaking to a really sweet little Spanish girl with cropped blonde hair, who gave us some restaurant recommendations and the run-down about the Be Mar. To summarize, it was amazing: super clean, breakfast compresa, provided big lockers next to each bed (a very nice perk when sharing a room with 16 people), 24-hour computers available, a lounge and a dining area, a kitchen, multiple W.C.'s, free wi-fi, free tours every day, and all the help of Barca locals a group of clueless American students could ask for--and for just 11 Euro a night. And that is my brief shout out and advertisement for the hostel. The whole group, which initially consisted of seven of us, was eager to get the adventuring started, so we set out right away to find a place for lunch (always, always catering to the stomach). It was a perfectly beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky and warm enough for flip-flops which was good enough for me! I have been more than anxious to unbury my toes from thick socks and boots after the cold weeks we'd been having in Florence. After wandering around a bit though, we noticed that the city seemed to be emptied; most places were shut up and closed and there were hardly any people out... not the warm welcome we had been secretly anticipating. We eventually figured out that we arrived during siesta, a mid-day break that all of Spain takes from about 3 to 5 in the afternoon to take naps...... it's naptime for the whole city. Why don't we do this in America? Talk about a blood pressure and stress reliever.
We came back around to a square near our hostel and chose a restaurant with outdoor seating (this is very common in Europe) in order to take advantage of the great weather. We ordered pitchers of Sangria and tried all different sorts of tapas for our first meal in Spain, appropriately enough. I remember feeling that life couldn't be better, sitting out in the sun, sipping on Sangria with great company, laughing and taking our time with nowhere in the world we had to be but right there. It was the perfect start to a perfect week. After, we wandered around until we found the Port and followed the coastline to the beach, stopping for crepes and "gelato" along the way (this gelato was actually just ice-cream, it had nothing on the real deal). At the beach we sat in quietness a bit, which is a rare occurrence when we're all together, but when those moments come I think they're just as valuable as the wild ones. It felt like the deep breath before the plunge of good-times-rolling (I think I just mixed LOTR and Grateful Dead references... #nerd). Feeling content, we headed back to the hostel to put ourselves together for dinner, which ended up being a strange one: the taquitos we ordered were some strange mix of fried mashed-potato and cheese fritters that left a funny taste in your mouth, and when three girls thought they ordered fried mozzarella sticks they were each given a plate of a moundful of cubed cheese (can't say I was disappointed, I got to help them out and got my cheese fix for the night). Still feeling pretty exhausted from all the traveling, we decided to do something low-key, and found ourselves at a nearby Doner Kebab talking over wine. After that we called it a night and hit the hay.

......This entry was never completed :( But I wanted to post it anyway

Carnevale

Wow. Ieri, yesterday, some of us went to Viareggio to celebrate Carnevale. In Italy, the month of February is filled with parties and parades to celebrate the coming up of Fat Tuesday and the fasting period of Lent. It's basically like what I would assume Martis Gras is like in America, only much more family friendly. Certain cities are more well known for their festivities than others, and conveniently Tuscany's most popular Carnevale town is only an hour and a half train ride from us, so we took advantage and ventured out to Viareggio for the day. On Sundays the town puts on spectacular parades complete with people in colorful costumes, enourmous floats which artists work on year-round leading up to the event, more confetti than I've ever seen in my life (5 inches of confetti-snow flooding the ground), and of course masks and hats everywhere. It may sound kind of hectic and noisy if it's not your style, but together we really had a blast singing along with the music and dancing and being silly. At one point we jumped in front of our chosen favorite float, the peacock, and danced along with the costumed townies, a definite highlight of the day. Many of the floats are caricatures of political figures in and outside of Italy; there were figures of various popes of the past and also Obama and prime minister of France and the ex-prime of Italy. It's pretty interesting the way they are so open about their opinions and the truisms of political life. It's one thing to speak openly about what the political figures are doing wrong, and another thing entirely to build a 20 ft. statue of them and depict them burning in Hell.... BUT I thought it was interesting regardless.

We were delightfully surprised to find that Viareggio is also a beach! It actually looks very similar to Virginia Beach, same colored water and sand, and same atmosphere (makes sense). Jesica, who is also from the 757, and I felt right at home prancing through the sand and running from the waves--Sometimes when I describe my days I feel like I'm five years old.

This is how we felt about finding THE BEACH!

Peectures Peectures

It's a gloooorious Monday! I'm feeling much more spirited than yesterday. The whole gang is back in action... ready to blow through exam week and then it's Spring Break! Hallelujah.

The Arno River was FROZEN this morning!!! Fa molto freddo

Strange vegetables I found at Mercato Ambrogio

The most delicious looking completely fresh pastas at the same market.... score

Ornellaia Wine we tried from wine class
One of these bottles of wine is 150 Euro

Haha... headphones from a guided tour that they let us keep. 
Perfect for me since I've only got one working ear!

"God give me joy in the tasks that press, in the memories that burn and bless;

In the thought that life has love to spend, in the faith that God's at journey's end."

-Thomas Curtis Clark

Empty Nest

It was pretty quiet here in Florence this weekend. The majority of our group, including my roommate, went out of town to Paris or Switzerland, so the few of us who stuck around in Florence spent a lot of time together. It was nice, the change-up of having a smaller group. There didn't seem to be as many tourists either (always nice). I was able to see the Basilica of Santa Maria Novella which is something I had been wanting to do since I got here. It's been just over a month now! And it's going by so quickly. But not like a normal semester of school back home where time seems to slip away from me and I don't know what I've done with it; here has been a month of truly living.

Today though I am really missing the sun. I hope it comes to find us here in Florence sooner than later... I think the cold is starting to seep inside of me. I don't think homesick is the word to describe where I'm at right now, but maybe a tad lonely? Shame. I've never admitted that feeling to myself before I don't think. A girl just needs someone to love her in the morning sometimes! It'd sure help get her day started.

I've also got some hefty papers and mid-terms ahead of me in the next few days, so that might have something to do with this listlessness. Right now calls for some time in the Psalms and my blue oversized sweater, it always does the trick.