The question is this:
Why am I here?
In other words, why am I at Corban College studying music education?
I've already explained why I am at Corban. That is taken care of.
But why Music Education? Why would I be taking on the largest and possibly most challenging major that this school offers? (If you don't believe it is those things, then you haven't seen our class schedules.)
So why would I subject myself to this?
I can tell you why other people do it. The education program on its own is difficult. The music program on its own is difficult. Yet there are so many of these people. I could tell you why many of these people willingly subject themselves to such rigorous trials.
A few of the key reasons are as follows:
"Ever since I was little I have wanted to be a teacher."
"I had a teacher in high school who inspired/challenged me, and I want to do the same for other kids."
"I like the idea of having summers off."
All noble goals, to be sure. Well, maybe not the "summers off", but they will learn soon enough.
There is nothing wrong with many of the reasons people have for wanting to be a teacher. These just aren't my reasons. The fact of the matter is this:
I never wanted to teach other people's kids. I don't think I'm cut out for it. I haven't had any aspirations since I was a kid, let alone the desire to be a teacher. I had some excellent teachers in high school, but they didn't inspire me to become a teacher. I would love to have summers off, but that doesn't mean that teaching is for me.
And it's not like teaching is "the only thing I'm good at." Not to sound conceited, but there are so many things I could do, and do well. I am by no means limited in my abilities and options.
So why am I here? Why am I doing this?
That is the question.
The answer is quite simple:
Because He who is greater wants me to.
Because the Father of lights, from whom all good and perfect gifts come, has given me this charge; this challenge.
I knew before that God had given me a concern for the youth. And I knew before that God had given me a great gifting in the area of music. I knew that I was to be involved with young people in a way that involved music. I simply had no idea in what way or form this involvement was to take place. Then the summer before my sophomore year it hit me. It was exactly what people had been telling me over and over.
Teach.
Suddenly all the riddles made sense. Suddenly it all fell into place. This was it. This was what it all meant. I knew what I had to do.
So I am here.
I hold no expectation of success. It is not my belief that all will go right.
All I know right now is that this is where God wants me...for now.
Tomorrow everything could change. Next year God could have me in another place.
Does that mean that this is all for loss. No. Never!
This is where God wants me, and so this has purpose. God does not work without reason.
Whatever God's purpose is in all this--be it for me to teach high school choir till the day I die, or be it for me to be able to encourage other students here on campus now--that purpose is worth pursuing. Even if His purpose leads to my perceived failure...or worse, my perceived success--even so, it is well worth the privilege of walking with Him day by day down this long and difficult path.
So the question is no longer "why am I here?"
Now the question is, what would the Lord have me do today?
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
"I'm A Poet, And I Didn't Even Comprehend It"
I've let it slip.
I've let it fall away.
Down into the dark corners.
Down into the great abyss.
Down into the forgotten realm.
How can I find it?
Where can I find it?
How can I find it again?
It was not so long ago that I held it.
It was only a little while ago that I held it tight.
I may never know what happened.
I may never know how.
I may never know why it fell.
All I know is that it is gone--
all the way,
the whole way,
all the way down.
No match,
No flashlight,
No floodlight would help.
If it is to be found, I will have to search.
If it is to be found, I will have to crawl.
If it is to be found, I will have to find it.
In the dark.
In the abyss.
In the forgotten realm.
Don't worry everyone. I'm just practicing. It doesn't mean anything...*shifty eyes*...or does it...
The interesting thing is that this kind of writing isn't so different from some of the techniques used by the Psalmists. Well, except that I don't use them very well, but that's mostly because I have not idea what I'm doing.
These ideas of repetition, of rephrasing, and of image development are used in the Psalms. My music history teacher gave me some brilliant insight to the purpose for such techniques. The way she explained it makes so much sense.
Anyone who has studied a second language--to any extent--has discovered that hardly anything translates directly. There are some times more, some times less words in a language. There are different grammatical arrangements from language to language. Add this to the fact that a rhyme in one language is not in the least bit likely to come out as a rhyme in another language, and you might have a problem if you are the ruler of the universe trying to write poetry that will be understood by all peoples for all time.
So what does God do?
He writes his poetry through a people who don't use rhyme. These people write poetry through concept development, through imagery development, through repetition and restatement. It is a rhyme of thoughts, of ideas, of images. This is something that translates into any language. It doesn't have to rhyme in the ear, because it rhymes in the mind.
Psalm 1
Blessed is the man who does not
walk in the council of the wicked,
stand in the way of sinners,
nor sit in the seat of scoffers!
But his delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on His law he meditates day and night.
He is like a tree planted by streams of water
which yields its fruit in season,
and whose leaf never whithers.
Whatever he does prospers.
Not so, the wicked.
They are like chaff
which the wind blows away.
Therefore, the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked shall perish.
Can you see it? Such poetry. Such wisdom. It is a strong image. God doesn't hold back. He puts everything out there, and just in case you missed it the first time, He says it again only in a different way. If the image is a little fuzzy, if you aren't quite sure about what He's trying to say, if there is some doubt as to whether or not He means it, He paints the picture clearer and in bolder colors that declare emphatic certainty of the message he is trying to convey.
I've let it fall away.
Down into the dark corners.
Down into the great abyss.
Down into the forgotten realm.
How can I find it?
Where can I find it?
How can I find it again?
It was not so long ago that I held it.
It was only a little while ago that I held it tight.
I may never know what happened.
I may never know how.
I may never know why it fell.
All I know is that it is gone--
all the way,
the whole way,
all the way down.
No match,
No flashlight,
No floodlight would help.
If it is to be found, I will have to search.
If it is to be found, I will have to crawl.
If it is to be found, I will have to find it.
In the dark.
In the abyss.
In the forgotten realm.
Don't worry everyone. I'm just practicing. It doesn't mean anything...*shifty eyes*...or does it...
The interesting thing is that this kind of writing isn't so different from some of the techniques used by the Psalmists. Well, except that I don't use them very well, but that's mostly because I have not idea what I'm doing.
These ideas of repetition, of rephrasing, and of image development are used in the Psalms. My music history teacher gave me some brilliant insight to the purpose for such techniques. The way she explained it makes so much sense.
Anyone who has studied a second language--to any extent--has discovered that hardly anything translates directly. There are some times more, some times less words in a language. There are different grammatical arrangements from language to language. Add this to the fact that a rhyme in one language is not in the least bit likely to come out as a rhyme in another language, and you might have a problem if you are the ruler of the universe trying to write poetry that will be understood by all peoples for all time.
So what does God do?
He writes his poetry through a people who don't use rhyme. These people write poetry through concept development, through imagery development, through repetition and restatement. It is a rhyme of thoughts, of ideas, of images. This is something that translates into any language. It doesn't have to rhyme in the ear, because it rhymes in the mind.
Psalm 1
Blessed is the man who does not
walk in the council of the wicked,
stand in the way of sinners,
nor sit in the seat of scoffers!
But his delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on His law he meditates day and night.
He is like a tree planted by streams of water
which yields its fruit in season,
and whose leaf never whithers.
Whatever he does prospers.
Not so, the wicked.
They are like chaff
which the wind blows away.
Therefore, the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked shall perish.
Can you see it? Such poetry. Such wisdom. It is a strong image. God doesn't hold back. He puts everything out there, and just in case you missed it the first time, He says it again only in a different way. If the image is a little fuzzy, if you aren't quite sure about what He's trying to say, if there is some doubt as to whether or not He means it, He paints the picture clearer and in bolder colors that declare emphatic certainty of the message he is trying to convey.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Mexico: Day 5
Most of the team was in good spirits this morning after our wonderful venture to Mazatlan the day before. Okay, to be honest, I think a lot of people were tired of working after getting the taste of relaxation on the beach. In fact Jimmy didn't even get up for breakfast.
Jay hadn't slept well--he was comin' down with something not good. Audrey was still on the mend, though she was doing better than the previous day.
We put in some more work on the wheelchair ramp. There was also a group of us working on the new trampoline. They had to set it up and then pour and mold concrete bases to keep the trampoline from walking away in the middle of the night.
Another project that we had going was the construction of some "football" goal posts. For you American readers you would understand them to be "soccer" goal posts. We made them out of tires, concrete, and PVC pipe. I should probably note (because if anyone else from the team reads this, they will bring it up anyway) that when I cut the PVC pipe, I cut it about a foot off. So there is a taller set and a shorter set of goal posts. I won't go into the details of how I managed to goof it up so much. Just know that right after I had made the error I realized how I had messed up and felt very silly for having made such a simple mistake. The rest of the team won't let me live it down, of course, but that's okay. It gives us something to laugh at for years to come.
Jay hadn't slept well--he was comin' down with something not good. Audrey was still on the mend, though she was doing better than the previous day.
We put in some more work on the wheelchair ramp. There was also a group of us working on the new trampoline. They had to set it up and then pour and mold concrete bases to keep the trampoline from walking away in the middle of the night.
Another project that we had going was the construction of some "football" goal posts. For you American readers you would understand them to be "soccer" goal posts. We made them out of tires, concrete, and PVC pipe. I should probably note (because if anyone else from the team reads this, they will bring it up anyway) that when I cut the PVC pipe, I cut it about a foot off. So there is a taller set and a shorter set of goal posts. I won't go into the details of how I managed to goof it up so much. Just know that right after I had made the error I realized how I had messed up and felt very silly for having made such a simple mistake. The rest of the team won't let me live it down, of course, but that's okay. It gives us something to laugh at for years to come.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Mexico: Day 4
It was a usual morning in Mexico. Loud birds, cereal for breakfast, and off to work.
It was not, however, our usual day. There were two major differences, the first one being that one of our team members had become very sick.
It was the youngest member in fact--Audrey. We weren't sure what it was at the time, but it was heat sickness. She hadn't been drinking enough water, and it was just too hot for her. So all that night she had been feeling terrible and she wasn't able to keep food down. It was just bad.
Audrey's parents took her into Mazatlan to see the doctor, so they were gone all that morning while we worked. When they did get back it was just in time for lunch, and just in time to inform us of the situation and let us know that they would not be going with us on our planned venture into Mazatlan that afternoon.
That is the other major difference concerning this particular day--we only worked half the day, and took the rest to go to the beach and see the city.
We were sad to be leaving part of our team behind, but away we went. Most of us rode in a kind of taxi that they have down there. I'm not sure what they call it, but it is basically a truck with an open, yet covered back with benches. It was really interesting. No seat-belts, no nothin'. You just sit out in the open and watch the scenery as it goes by. It was a really fun way to see the Mexican country side as well as the city.
When we pulled in on the golden road--that is the American touristy section of Mazatlan--we were dropped off right in front of McDonalds. We split up at that point. Most of the group went straight to the beach while Roger, Kelly and I went for a walk to see what kind of wares the vendors had. I was a little surprised to discover that for the most part everyone was selling the same things, and I mean the exact same things. I suppose that shouldn't be too surprising considering you see a lot of that in the touristy areas of the U.S., but in the U.S. all the shops aren't this close together.
After we had walked around for a while, and Kelly had found what she was looking for, we decided to join the others on the beach. At first it took us a little while to find the way into the beach. The beach is heavily blocked off by a solid line of stores and buildings. There is, however, a designated passageway onto the beach, and of course it is lined with more stores (just in case you forgot something you might need on the beach--like some fine jewelry.
We had to walk a while before finding the rest of the group, and as we were walking we had several salesmen ask us if we wanted to go para-sailing, boating, or take a tour of stone island. There were also countless other sales-men and women walking along the beach selling the exact same things as were in most of the stores. You could sit in one place getting a tan and purchase anything from a fruit drink to clothes to jewelry.
The crazy thing is, even though there were tons of people, and half of them were salesmen, the beach and the ocean looked amazing. It was a beautiful scene.
When we did finally catch up with the others most of them were out playing in the water. So, Kelly began to settle in while Roger and I just stood around. I didn't feel like getting wet that day. Before long Roger and I were back out on the streets, seeing what other stores we could find. During our little walk we found some air conditioned stores (a wonderful marketing tactic in Mexico), we were offered an audience with some strippers as well as a few more tours of Stone island, and we passed the local Dairy Queen. In Mexico you don't have to look hard to find whatever you want (unless you are looking for a solid purple bag that says "Mazatlan" on it, which is what Roger was never able to find for his daughter), usually if you walk far enough someone else will find it for you and try to sell it to you. I don't know why they don't have door to door salesmen...oh, wait...they do. There is a guy who delivers purified water every day, as well as a guy who delivers tortillas every day, as well as other guys who deliver all kinds of other things periodically.
Well, eventually we ended up back on the beach (after having attained a Mcflurry, of course). My feet were burning, so I moved up into the seating at Joe's Oyster Bar. I just sat there for about an hour until it was time for everyone to meet up for dinner. The shade was nice, the view of the beach was wonderful, and the book I had was entertaining (Spanish/English Dictionary: hours of good wholesome fun).
For dinner we all went to Pancho's. We had decided on the upstairs, indoor seating because it was air-conditioned. Of course, once we were inside the nice cool room some people started complaining about it being too cold. I tell ya', some people just can't handle Mexico.
I was feeling adventurous, so I ordered the Mexican platter. It had a little bit of everything, and it was delicious. During the meal I also--by invitation--speared a piece of calamari as well as a chunk of snail (we didn't know it was snail at the time) from my neighbor's dish. I don't know what it is, but something about living in another country opened up my mind to trying a lot of different kinds of food. There was one exception, however. I decided against trying the complimentary Kahlua & cream. Sure it was just a small glass, and it was legal, but I just don't mess with the alcohol. It's that simple. I mean, how much of a cultural experience can it be? My friend back home has offered me Kahlua & cream several times. Big woop.
After dinner it was getting close to time to head back to El Castillo. Most of us decided to ride in the van on the way back, so it was just Roger, Ed, Danny and myself in the back of the truck this time (though I might be forgetting someone).
When we returned we learned that Audrey and Debbie had been sleeping in one of the only air-conditioned rooms in the orphanage all day. Everyone was pretty tired, so the ladies went straight to bed. The guys decided to do something a little different from the previous nights. Instead of sitting out in the flies and singing, we met in our room and talked about some of the things we had been thinking about and noticing from our experience so far in Mexico. It ended up being a really cool discussion.
After talking we all went to bed. I think most of us slept well that night. I know for a fact, however, that some of us didn't. But that's a story for the next day.
It was not, however, our usual day. There were two major differences, the first one being that one of our team members had become very sick.
It was the youngest member in fact--Audrey. We weren't sure what it was at the time, but it was heat sickness. She hadn't been drinking enough water, and it was just too hot for her. So all that night she had been feeling terrible and she wasn't able to keep food down. It was just bad.
Audrey's parents took her into Mazatlan to see the doctor, so they were gone all that morning while we worked. When they did get back it was just in time for lunch, and just in time to inform us of the situation and let us know that they would not be going with us on our planned venture into Mazatlan that afternoon.
That is the other major difference concerning this particular day--we only worked half the day, and took the rest to go to the beach and see the city.
We were sad to be leaving part of our team behind, but away we went. Most of us rode in a kind of taxi that they have down there. I'm not sure what they call it, but it is basically a truck with an open, yet covered back with benches. It was really interesting. No seat-belts, no nothin'. You just sit out in the open and watch the scenery as it goes by. It was a really fun way to see the Mexican country side as well as the city.
When we pulled in on the golden road--that is the American touristy section of Mazatlan--we were dropped off right in front of McDonalds. We split up at that point. Most of the group went straight to the beach while Roger, Kelly and I went for a walk to see what kind of wares the vendors had. I was a little surprised to discover that for the most part everyone was selling the same things, and I mean the exact same things. I suppose that shouldn't be too surprising considering you see a lot of that in the touristy areas of the U.S., but in the U.S. all the shops aren't this close together.
After we had walked around for a while, and Kelly had found what she was looking for, we decided to join the others on the beach. At first it took us a little while to find the way into the beach. The beach is heavily blocked off by a solid line of stores and buildings. There is, however, a designated passageway onto the beach, and of course it is lined with more stores (just in case you forgot something you might need on the beach--like some fine jewelry.
We had to walk a while before finding the rest of the group, and as we were walking we had several salesmen ask us if we wanted to go para-sailing, boating, or take a tour of stone island. There were also countless other sales-men and women walking along the beach selling the exact same things as were in most of the stores. You could sit in one place getting a tan and purchase anything from a fruit drink to clothes to jewelry.
The crazy thing is, even though there were tons of people, and half of them were salesmen, the beach and the ocean looked amazing. It was a beautiful scene.
When we did finally catch up with the others most of them were out playing in the water. So, Kelly began to settle in while Roger and I just stood around. I didn't feel like getting wet that day. Before long Roger and I were back out on the streets, seeing what other stores we could find. During our little walk we found some air conditioned stores (a wonderful marketing tactic in Mexico), we were offered an audience with some strippers as well as a few more tours of Stone island, and we passed the local Dairy Queen. In Mexico you don't have to look hard to find whatever you want (unless you are looking for a solid purple bag that says "Mazatlan" on it, which is what Roger was never able to find for his daughter), usually if you walk far enough someone else will find it for you and try to sell it to you. I don't know why they don't have door to door salesmen...oh, wait...they do. There is a guy who delivers purified water every day, as well as a guy who delivers tortillas every day, as well as other guys who deliver all kinds of other things periodically.
Well, eventually we ended up back on the beach (after having attained a Mcflurry, of course). My feet were burning, so I moved up into the seating at Joe's Oyster Bar. I just sat there for about an hour until it was time for everyone to meet up for dinner. The shade was nice, the view of the beach was wonderful, and the book I had was entertaining (Spanish/English Dictionary: hours of good wholesome fun).
For dinner we all went to Pancho's. We had decided on the upstairs, indoor seating because it was air-conditioned. Of course, once we were inside the nice cool room some people started complaining about it being too cold. I tell ya', some people just can't handle Mexico.
I was feeling adventurous, so I ordered the Mexican platter. It had a little bit of everything, and it was delicious. During the meal I also--by invitation--speared a piece of calamari as well as a chunk of snail (we didn't know it was snail at the time) from my neighbor's dish. I don't know what it is, but something about living in another country opened up my mind to trying a lot of different kinds of food. There was one exception, however. I decided against trying the complimentary Kahlua & cream. Sure it was just a small glass, and it was legal, but I just don't mess with the alcohol. It's that simple. I mean, how much of a cultural experience can it be? My friend back home has offered me Kahlua & cream several times. Big woop.
After dinner it was getting close to time to head back to El Castillo. Most of us decided to ride in the van on the way back, so it was just Roger, Ed, Danny and myself in the back of the truck this time (though I might be forgetting someone).
When we returned we learned that Audrey and Debbie had been sleeping in one of the only air-conditioned rooms in the orphanage all day. Everyone was pretty tired, so the ladies went straight to bed. The guys decided to do something a little different from the previous nights. Instead of sitting out in the flies and singing, we met in our room and talked about some of the things we had been thinking about and noticing from our experience so far in Mexico. It ended up being a really cool discussion.
After talking we all went to bed. I think most of us slept well that night. I know for a fact, however, that some of us didn't. But that's a story for the next day.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Mexico: Day 3
It was a Thursday morning. I woke to the sound of my bunk mate getting ready for the day. As for myself, I wasn't particularly ready to get a start on the day. In my opinion it would have been nice to catch a couple more Z's. However, as it was every morning in Mexico, once your awake, you stay awake. Who could sleep with all those birds sounding off just outside the window anyway?
I had slept a little better than I did the night before. At least this time when I woke up I didn't start brushing my sheets to get rid of any imaginary bugs. I had woken up several times, however. Enough times to get a good look at the late night lightning show.
Eventually I decided it was time to get up.
Every morning was pretty much the same thing. So I'll try to keep from repeating it in such detail every day.
We had breakfast, and got going on our projects. Today we didn't work on any bicycles for very long. But during the brief time that Jimmy, Clayton and I were working on bikes Juan decided to come see what we were doing.
Juan is a 16 year old boy who looks like he is 9. He was so completely and utterly neglected by his parents when he was born that the only way he survived was from the generosity of a neighbor who would sneak food in to him. This nutritional deficiency is the reason his body wasn't able to develop normally. When he first came to the orphanage he wasn't even able to walk because no one had every taught him how.
You would think that such a history would make a person bitter, or angry, or upset with the world, but Juan is anything but. He is such a happy and joyful child, you wouldn't ever think that he had such a rough start. Juan is walking now. In fact, he's not only walking, he is jumping, running, climbing, and doing everything else that kids do, including causing just a little bit of trouble. And that's just what he did while we were working on the bikes.
We were trying to get the brakes to work on a particular bike when Juan came over. He sat down next to Jimmy and watched as we worked. Before long Juan reached down and took the cap off of the bike tire. He held it up and gave us a mischievous look so that we would know he was causing some trouble. Juan then proceeded to deflate the bicycle tire from which he had removed the cap. We all thought it was pretty funny, but just to toy with him I said "Juan es mal", which means "Juan is bad." To which he responded "No, bien", which means "No, good."
We went back and forth for a little while with "No, mal" and "No, bien" until Jimmy decided to join in the fun by deflating the tire. Juan got a kick out of this and pointed at Jimmy ever so emphatically with a look on his face that said "HE DID IT!"
By the end of the whole escapade there had been a few more mal's and bien's thrown around and everyone was having a laugh. This incident then set up a precedent for the rest of the week when Juan would keep calling me "Mallo" which means "bad guy."
When I wasn't working on bicycles I helped out with the other projects that were going on. As I recall, I spent most of the day mixing up concrete for the ramp. We made a lot of concrete over the week. In all, we must have gone through anywhere between 12 and 20 bags of cement mix (but if I am in error, then I am erring on the short side). Every bag of cement mix would make 4 to 5 wheelbarrow loads of concrete.
I forgot to mention that it was this day that several of the children left for a three day camping trip. This is why Caesar wasn't around while we were working on the bikes.
As the day had begun, so the day ended. That is to say, every night and every morning was pretty much the same as every other night and every other morning. Dinner, singing, and then sleep. Such was life in Mexico.
I had slept a little better than I did the night before. At least this time when I woke up I didn't start brushing my sheets to get rid of any imaginary bugs. I had woken up several times, however. Enough times to get a good look at the late night lightning show.
Eventually I decided it was time to get up.
Every morning was pretty much the same thing. So I'll try to keep from repeating it in such detail every day.
We had breakfast, and got going on our projects. Today we didn't work on any bicycles for very long. But during the brief time that Jimmy, Clayton and I were working on bikes Juan decided to come see what we were doing.
Juan is a 16 year old boy who looks like he is 9. He was so completely and utterly neglected by his parents when he was born that the only way he survived was from the generosity of a neighbor who would sneak food in to him. This nutritional deficiency is the reason his body wasn't able to develop normally. When he first came to the orphanage he wasn't even able to walk because no one had every taught him how.
You would think that such a history would make a person bitter, or angry, or upset with the world, but Juan is anything but. He is such a happy and joyful child, you wouldn't ever think that he had such a rough start. Juan is walking now. In fact, he's not only walking, he is jumping, running, climbing, and doing everything else that kids do, including causing just a little bit of trouble. And that's just what he did while we were working on the bikes.
We were trying to get the brakes to work on a particular bike when Juan came over. He sat down next to Jimmy and watched as we worked. Before long Juan reached down and took the cap off of the bike tire. He held it up and gave us a mischievous look so that we would know he was causing some trouble. Juan then proceeded to deflate the bicycle tire from which he had removed the cap. We all thought it was pretty funny, but just to toy with him I said "Juan es mal", which means "Juan is bad." To which he responded "No, bien", which means "No, good."
We went back and forth for a little while with "No, mal" and "No, bien" until Jimmy decided to join in the fun by deflating the tire. Juan got a kick out of this and pointed at Jimmy ever so emphatically with a look on his face that said "HE DID IT!"
By the end of the whole escapade there had been a few more mal's and bien's thrown around and everyone was having a laugh. This incident then set up a precedent for the rest of the week when Juan would keep calling me "Mallo" which means "bad guy."
When I wasn't working on bicycles I helped out with the other projects that were going on. As I recall, I spent most of the day mixing up concrete for the ramp. We made a lot of concrete over the week. In all, we must have gone through anywhere between 12 and 20 bags of cement mix (but if I am in error, then I am erring on the short side). Every bag of cement mix would make 4 to 5 wheelbarrow loads of concrete.
I forgot to mention that it was this day that several of the children left for a three day camping trip. This is why Caesar wasn't around while we were working on the bikes.
As the day had begun, so the day ended. That is to say, every night and every morning was pretty much the same as every other night and every other morning. Dinner, singing, and then sleep. Such was life in Mexico.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Mexico: Day 2
After a long night of sleep (that was frequently interrupted by my waking up and frantically brushing imaginary bugs off of my bed) I woke to sunlight shining though the window, and the sound of birds singing...really loud birds...a lot of them. There had been a great deal of lightning that night, though I couldn't hear the thunder--either because it was really far away, or because the crickets were really loud, I'm not sure which. It had also rained and thereby cooled off the area enough that I actually unfolded my "pillow" (my hoodie) and laid it over top of me.
I probably got up some time around 7 to 7:30--some time close to the crack of dawn anyway. The interesting thing that I noticed during my time in Mexico is that most of the time I had no idea what time it was, and it didn't really matter. The only times I would pay attention to the time were when I wanted to know how long it was till lunch or dinner. Other than that, who cares. I don't know when I went to sleep each night, and I have no idea when I got up in the mornings. However, I do know that in both cases--morning and night--sleeping and waking occurred very consistently around the same time every day.
So the morning began. As I have already mentioned, Ed walked to the nearby store to get milk and fruit for breakfast, and this particular morning a few of us--including myself--joined him in this venture.
The shop was a small building about the size of two dorm rooms (in Warner Pacific measurements it would be 4 dorm rooms). There were a lot of familiar things there, though most of them had different names and packaging shapes. While I was standing around looking at various things I felt something touch the back of my heel. I'll admit it startled me because my first thought was 'large insect, or scorpion'. When I turned around, however, I discovered that it was only the cold, wet nose of a small dog.
Upon our return Ed began promptly to get things set out for breakfast. A lot of the cereal was very familiar--coco puffs, Cheerios, Cinnamon squares, and more--but again, they all had different names. We also had a can of peach halves every morning, as well as some pastry or bread, and juice. I guess it was the picturesque "part of this complete breakfast" you always see on cereal commercials.
After breakfast it was time to start working. Clayton and I went straight to work on the bicycles. There were several bikes that were in bad condition, as well as a storage room of bicycle parts to work with. We did what we could with what we had, but usually our efforts ended with the realization that there was some key element that we were not able to fix.
While we were working on our first bike the sky began to precipitate on us (it started to rain). At first it was just like an Oregon sprinkle, so we moved our operation into the tool shed. Before too long we were really glad we had moved, because suddenly it started coming down by the bucket-loads. It was ridiculous. The rain probably went on like that for about 30-45 minutes. Most of the rest of the crew had to stop working on their projects unless they were already working inside.
We worked on bicycles most of the day. The hardest part was probably when Caesar (Say-zar), one of the kids, would try to show us what to do and what was wrong with the bikes. There were times when he was right, but he was just getting in the way, or he would try to tell me something that I already knew. And then there were times when he would try to explain something to me when I had already figured out that the problem was really something else. All in all, though, I couldn't help but appreciate his enthusiasm, and what mechanical understanding he displayed. He kept telling me "un momento" so that I would step back for a moment and let him do his work. I quickly learned from this technique and was able to use it later to get him to step back for a moment so that I could do my work. It's all about communication.
Of course lunch and dinner were both amazing and delicious. Our dinner dessert was flan. I'm not sure what flan is, but I ate it. It wasn't too bad. It was very sweet, so I wasn't able to finish it, but that's okay.
After dinner we all sat around talking and hanging out. Eventually I went and got my guitar. We sang some songs until we couldn't stand the flies any more, then off to bed we went.
I probably got up some time around 7 to 7:30--some time close to the crack of dawn anyway. The interesting thing that I noticed during my time in Mexico is that most of the time I had no idea what time it was, and it didn't really matter. The only times I would pay attention to the time were when I wanted to know how long it was till lunch or dinner. Other than that, who cares. I don't know when I went to sleep each night, and I have no idea when I got up in the mornings. However, I do know that in both cases--morning and night--sleeping and waking occurred very consistently around the same time every day.
So the morning began. As I have already mentioned, Ed walked to the nearby store to get milk and fruit for breakfast, and this particular morning a few of us--including myself--joined him in this venture.
The shop was a small building about the size of two dorm rooms (in Warner Pacific measurements it would be 4 dorm rooms). There were a lot of familiar things there, though most of them had different names and packaging shapes. While I was standing around looking at various things I felt something touch the back of my heel. I'll admit it startled me because my first thought was 'large insect, or scorpion'. When I turned around, however, I discovered that it was only the cold, wet nose of a small dog.
Upon our return Ed began promptly to get things set out for breakfast. A lot of the cereal was very familiar--coco puffs, Cheerios, Cinnamon squares, and more--but again, they all had different names. We also had a can of peach halves every morning, as well as some pastry or bread, and juice. I guess it was the picturesque "part of this complete breakfast" you always see on cereal commercials.
After breakfast it was time to start working. Clayton and I went straight to work on the bicycles. There were several bikes that were in bad condition, as well as a storage room of bicycle parts to work with. We did what we could with what we had, but usually our efforts ended with the realization that there was some key element that we were not able to fix.
While we were working on our first bike the sky began to precipitate on us (it started to rain). At first it was just like an Oregon sprinkle, so we moved our operation into the tool shed. Before too long we were really glad we had moved, because suddenly it started coming down by the bucket-loads. It was ridiculous. The rain probably went on like that for about 30-45 minutes. Most of the rest of the crew had to stop working on their projects unless they were already working inside.
We worked on bicycles most of the day. The hardest part was probably when Caesar (Say-zar), one of the kids, would try to show us what to do and what was wrong with the bikes. There were times when he was right, but he was just getting in the way, or he would try to tell me something that I already knew. And then there were times when he would try to explain something to me when I had already figured out that the problem was really something else. All in all, though, I couldn't help but appreciate his enthusiasm, and what mechanical understanding he displayed. He kept telling me "un momento" so that I would step back for a moment and let him do his work. I quickly learned from this technique and was able to use it later to get him to step back for a moment so that I could do my work. It's all about communication.
Of course lunch and dinner were both amazing and delicious. Our dinner dessert was flan. I'm not sure what flan is, but I ate it. It wasn't too bad. It was very sweet, so I wasn't able to finish it, but that's okay.
After dinner we all sat around talking and hanging out. Eventually I went and got my guitar. We sang some songs until we couldn't stand the flies any more, then off to bed we went.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Mexico Trip: Day 1
3:15 AM
Wake up to get ready for departure to Mexico.
4:15 AM
My ride arrives and I wish my parents farewell.
4:30 AM
The majority of the team going to Mexico gathers are Estacada Christian Church.
4:45 AM
Head out to PDX.
Long story short, the first day was an early morning with a flight from Portland to LA (2 hours), and then from LA to Mazatlan Mexico (3 hours, with a 1 hour time zone change). We arrive in Mexico at around 4:30ish PM
But let's back up a bit.
We spent a lot of time in LAX because our flights were so spaced out. During this time we experienced an earth quake, met up with the last member of our team (he came from Texas), stood around, sat around and lazed around for several hours. Can you say team bonding time?
We were a fairly interesting group: two and a half families with three extra stragglers.
Randy and Carrie were the ones who spear headed the whole trip. They had been down to El Castillo before with their two children, Jimmy (14) and Jessica (12ish?). Now the whole family was making the trip again.
Next we had Jay and Debbie. Jay is a full blooded Mexican, and did what he could as our interpreter. They also brought their two children along, Clayton (12) and Audry (10ish?).
Debbie's dad was the one who met us in LA. Danny Danger is what we called him, but "Dan Leffingwell" was the name that came over the PA system while we were standing around in the LA airport. We hadn't even been together as a whole group for a day and Jay had already pulled his first prank on Danny. He got the gate attendants to tell Danny that he had checked in too late and was going to be bumped from the flight. Danny handled it pretty well, and we all thought it was funny.
Then you have Kelly and her son Jared (14?).
And, finally, Roger and myself.
13 Characters in all, and what characters we were.
So we land in Mazatlan and step out on to the tarmac on our way to customs. A quick flash of the passport and visa paperwork, a short trip to pick up our luggage and we are then put through the brief rigmarole of scanning the luggage and presenting more paperwork. It's at this point that you push a button that is supposed to randomly select people to have their luggage searched. You push the button and it turns on either a green light, or a red light. I was glad to get a green. Kelly and Jared were not so lucky. It didn't take very long for there suitcases to be searched, and in the mean time most everyone else was just around the corner exchanging some currency for Mexican pesos.
It was at this point that we met up with our "guide" of sorts. Ed (or "Edwardo" as we called him) is a guy who works for the organization that runs the orphanage and he helps direct the work that the groups like ours do when they come down. With him was Eric. Eric and his wife completely ran the orphanage by themselves for two years before they were able to get more help. Since then his wife has moved back to the states indefinitely due to the overload of stress, and Eric has been working toward being around the orphanage less and less.
Once Kelly and Jared had caught up and had a chance to exchange some of their own money we all made our way out to a big 15 passenger van with a luggage rack on top. We loaded up and away we went.
After picking up a couple bags of ice at the El Castillo "super market" we pulled up to the orphanage. Our living quarters and dining area were just across the dirt road from the orphanage, so as we were unloading our things we were able to get a great look at the arch of the gateway to the orphanage that read "Rancho De Los Niños", which means Ranch of the children. Sounds like a reasonable description.
We took a little bit of time to get settled in before dinner. I don't know much about the girls quarters, but the guys had four bunks (which was the exact number we needed), a sink with running water and two mirrors hanging over it, two toilets, and two showers. The only way to get a warm showers would be to hang a solar bag outside, but had been busted some time before we got there. Most of us didn't mind taking cold showers though, what with the heat and all.
Oh, didn't I mention the heat? I guess not. You might find this hard to believe, but it is HOT in Mexico. We didn't even sleep with blankets on our beds. Some people didn't even want to sleep with a mattress underneath them.
And of course you have to also consider the humidity. I always used to think that Oregon was a humid place. I had been to California before, so I had an idea of what a dry heat was. But I had no idea that it could get so humid as it was in El Castillo. Even if a guy stands absolutely still for a while he would end up with a moist t-shirt.
Our eating/gathering area was basically a large concrete patio with a roof over top. It was swarming with flies the entire eight days we were there. In one corner we had the water (bottled of course. We can't drink the tap water without ill effect). In the opposite corner we had the coffee maker. In a third corner we kept all the eating supplies (cups, bowls, plates, plastic ware). Every morning before breakfast Ed would walk to a nearby store to get milk for the cereal and some fruit. We had cereal for breakfast every morning which was okay for most people, though Jay didn't ever have any because he is lactose intolerant. Our lunch and dinner would always be made by a lady who lives just down the street from the orphanage. I thought for sure that there would come a meal that I wouldn't have an appreciation for, but it never happened. Monica made meal after meal of some of the best food I have ever had. It was absolutely amazing.
I can't remember what each individual meal was, but I know that the first night we had as dessert a kind of pancake with apples. I would have had seconds of every meal if it weren't for the fact that the food was so filling.
After our first dinner we took a quick tour of the orphanage and looked at the various projects we were going to be working on throughout the week. The place looks nothing like what you would think an orphanage would look like. It was more of a foster home appearance. Because that's what it was. It was a home. It was a home with a lot of rooms, but it was a home.
Out back they have a ginormous playground made out of concrete. There are basically 3 towers, each with two levels and an area underneath. There is a ramp going from the back door straight up to the first tower. From the first tower there is a concrete platform going to the next tower, and then a wood and rope bridge traversing the gap between the second and third towers.
Once the tour was over we returned to our gathering area and talked and sang some songs before heading off to bed. Day one was complete, and we were ready for things to really begin.
Wake up to get ready for departure to Mexico.
4:15 AM
My ride arrives and I wish my parents farewell.
4:30 AM
The majority of the team going to Mexico gathers are Estacada Christian Church.
4:45 AM
Head out to PDX.
Long story short, the first day was an early morning with a flight from Portland to LA (2 hours), and then from LA to Mazatlan Mexico (3 hours, with a 1 hour time zone change). We arrive in Mexico at around 4:30ish PM
But let's back up a bit.
We spent a lot of time in LAX because our flights were so spaced out. During this time we experienced an earth quake, met up with the last member of our team (he came from Texas), stood around, sat around and lazed around for several hours. Can you say team bonding time?
We were a fairly interesting group: two and a half families with three extra stragglers.
Randy and Carrie were the ones who spear headed the whole trip. They had been down to El Castillo before with their two children, Jimmy (14) and Jessica (12ish?). Now the whole family was making the trip again.
Next we had Jay and Debbie. Jay is a full blooded Mexican, and did what he could as our interpreter. They also brought their two children along, Clayton (12) and Audry (10ish?).
Debbie's dad was the one who met us in LA. Danny Danger is what we called him, but "Dan Leffingwell" was the name that came over the PA system while we were standing around in the LA airport. We hadn't even been together as a whole group for a day and Jay had already pulled his first prank on Danny. He got the gate attendants to tell Danny that he had checked in too late and was going to be bumped from the flight. Danny handled it pretty well, and we all thought it was funny.
Then you have Kelly and her son Jared (14?).
And, finally, Roger and myself.
13 Characters in all, and what characters we were.
So we land in Mazatlan and step out on to the tarmac on our way to customs. A quick flash of the passport and visa paperwork, a short trip to pick up our luggage and we are then put through the brief rigmarole of scanning the luggage and presenting more paperwork. It's at this point that you push a button that is supposed to randomly select people to have their luggage searched. You push the button and it turns on either a green light, or a red light. I was glad to get a green. Kelly and Jared were not so lucky. It didn't take very long for there suitcases to be searched, and in the mean time most everyone else was just around the corner exchanging some currency for Mexican pesos.
It was at this point that we met up with our "guide" of sorts. Ed (or "Edwardo" as we called him) is a guy who works for the organization that runs the orphanage and he helps direct the work that the groups like ours do when they come down. With him was Eric. Eric and his wife completely ran the orphanage by themselves for two years before they were able to get more help. Since then his wife has moved back to the states indefinitely due to the overload of stress, and Eric has been working toward being around the orphanage less and less.
Once Kelly and Jared had caught up and had a chance to exchange some of their own money we all made our way out to a big 15 passenger van with a luggage rack on top. We loaded up and away we went.
After picking up a couple bags of ice at the El Castillo "super market" we pulled up to the orphanage. Our living quarters and dining area were just across the dirt road from the orphanage, so as we were unloading our things we were able to get a great look at the arch of the gateway to the orphanage that read "Rancho De Los Niños", which means Ranch of the children. Sounds like a reasonable description.
We took a little bit of time to get settled in before dinner. I don't know much about the girls quarters, but the guys had four bunks (which was the exact number we needed), a sink with running water and two mirrors hanging over it, two toilets, and two showers. The only way to get a warm showers would be to hang a solar bag outside, but had been busted some time before we got there. Most of us didn't mind taking cold showers though, what with the heat and all.
Oh, didn't I mention the heat? I guess not. You might find this hard to believe, but it is HOT in Mexico. We didn't even sleep with blankets on our beds. Some people didn't even want to sleep with a mattress underneath them.
And of course you have to also consider the humidity. I always used to think that Oregon was a humid place. I had been to California before, so I had an idea of what a dry heat was. But I had no idea that it could get so humid as it was in El Castillo. Even if a guy stands absolutely still for a while he would end up with a moist t-shirt.
Our eating/gathering area was basically a large concrete patio with a roof over top. It was swarming with flies the entire eight days we were there. In one corner we had the water (bottled of course. We can't drink the tap water without ill effect). In the opposite corner we had the coffee maker. In a third corner we kept all the eating supplies (cups, bowls, plates, plastic ware). Every morning before breakfast Ed would walk to a nearby store to get milk for the cereal and some fruit. We had cereal for breakfast every morning which was okay for most people, though Jay didn't ever have any because he is lactose intolerant. Our lunch and dinner would always be made by a lady who lives just down the street from the orphanage. I thought for sure that there would come a meal that I wouldn't have an appreciation for, but it never happened. Monica made meal after meal of some of the best food I have ever had. It was absolutely amazing.
I can't remember what each individual meal was, but I know that the first night we had as dessert a kind of pancake with apples. I would have had seconds of every meal if it weren't for the fact that the food was so filling.
After our first dinner we took a quick tour of the orphanage and looked at the various projects we were going to be working on throughout the week. The place looks nothing like what you would think an orphanage would look like. It was more of a foster home appearance. Because that's what it was. It was a home. It was a home with a lot of rooms, but it was a home.
Out back they have a ginormous playground made out of concrete. There are basically 3 towers, each with two levels and an area underneath. There is a ramp going from the back door straight up to the first tower. From the first tower there is a concrete platform going to the next tower, and then a wood and rope bridge traversing the gap between the second and third towers.
Once the tour was over we returned to our gathering area and talked and sang some songs before heading off to bed. Day one was complete, and we were ready for things to really begin.
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