Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia

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Athens!

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Paris!

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… (part 2)

I wrote this on Monday morning while waiting in Edinburgh:

Whew. What a week (well, 10 days). I’m actually more or less where I started this whirlwind week, at least physically. Yep, that’s right, I’m back at the very same Burger King where I’d sat until about 1:30AM last Thursday as I tried to kill time in Edinburgh before my 9AM flight. The only difference is the wi-fi doesn’t seem to be working so I’m writing this now (10:38AM GMT) and probably won’t be posting it till later unless the wi-fi magically decides to work. I always plan for the worst so my train back isn’t until after 1pm so I’ve got some time to kill in Edinburgh. Unfortunately I’ve got my camping pack and another medium sized bag which I don’t want to drag around the city (also, I am too cheap to put the bags in a locker for 4 pounds).

Anyways, yeah. What a week. Brian and my cousin Nghi met me at the airport (Nghi happened to meet me at the airport last time I arrived in NYC from England too, weird!) and we drove home. Even though my parents had initially told me not to come back, worrying about costs, etc. I could tell they were glad to see me. I think it also helped that I found pretty cheap tickets. We hung around the house for a little bit, playing with my cat who now has a very mercurial temper. Then we headed over to Apalachin to pray with the family, eat, and just hang out. After we did the rosary in our own unique family way (one decade in Vietnamese, one decade in English, etc) we all sat and cried, probably for a solid 30 minutes or so.

The next morning we went to the funeral home to pray and just be with my aunt’s (closed) casket. Again, many many many more tears, this time for another hour or so. We made our way to St. Ambrose, where we’ve always gone to celebrate so many occasions and sacraments, for my aunt’s funeral mass. I have almost all good memories in St. Ambrose, with the two exceptions being Uncle Ross’ funeral and my aunt’s, but I suppose in a way, those could be good memories. On this occasion, Father Curry said some really nice words and I think gave my parents, aunts/uncles and us nieces and nephews some comfort. My cousin Hoang had spoken to Father ahead of time and had given him a bit of an idea of how we were feeling so that he could really tailor his homily toward our current emotions. Of course, there were still many tears and this service provided, at least for some of us – myself included, some much needed closure.

After the service we made our way back to the funeral home where we brought my aunt’s body to the crematory. There were still a few tears but at the same time it felt like a great weight had been lifted off of our shoulders. The crematory operator asked if we’d like him to press the start button or if we would like to. My mom said she would, to which he instructed her, “it’s that green button all the way at the top.” Now for those of you who know my mom, you’ll probably understand the awkward moment of silence when everyone in the room had to be thinking “top? Oh crap, she won’t be able to reach it.” And yes, that was a factor – my mom walked over to the button and reached her hand wayyy up high but came up a few inches short. Everyone laughed as my dad had to give her a boost to press the button. The funny part was that my aunt who had passed, Di Ut, was the tallest of my mom’s brothers/sisters (which isn’t saying much) and probably was the only sibling who would’ve been able to reach that green button unassisted. Later, my mom would tell us that as she reached for the button she almost said out loud, “oh sh*t” but then realized where she was. We’re all fairly certain Di Ut was having a good laugh at that moment.

Since we didn’t know what to do afterwards, we did what we always do when we don’t know what else to do – we went to a Chinese buffet. We went back to my house afterwards to pray the rosary again, and eat again, of course. We made plans for the next day – the boys would go to the Syracuse / Nova game and the girls were going bridesmaid/bridal dress shopping with Amanda. Yep, let’s leave it at that. On Saturday morning some of the girls (cough cough) may or may not have been 4 hours late for our desired 9am start time but I was okay with it since I could watch the Manchester United / Birmingham City match on FSC on our unnecessarily large TV. Oh how I have missed that TV. We hung out some more after dress shopping until the boys came home and then we all went to bed relatively early since it’d been a long couple of days.

Sunday the family met at church and then… that’s right, we went to another Chinese buffet. We had a smaller group this time, but family buffet times are always fun. Whenever we go and the waitresses ask us what we want to drink our parents go around the circle and say “hot tea” “hot tea” “hot tea” “hot tea” “hot tea” “hot tea” instead of just asking for a pot of hot tea. We laugh, and then realize we always go around in a circle saying “water” “water” “water” “water” “water” instead of just asking for a pitcher of water. I guess we’re all like our parents sometimes. We all went home for a break from family time and then rendezvoused at my house again to play Matthew’s new board game Puerto Rico as well as to watch some football. It was another early night; all this family time can get tiring.

Monday was pretty tame. Mom, Dad, Brian and I went to dinner at Red Lobster as Brian’s birthday dinner since Dad was scheduled to go to Houston to visit his mom during Brian’s actual birthday. (Dad didn’t actually end up going to Houston since his connecting flight in Philly was cancelled.) Tuesday morning was not fun. I thought I had food poisoning but I think it was just a stomach bug that’s been going around since many of my aunts/cousins had/have since gotten it. That meant that all of Tuesday and a good part of Wednesday were just spent sleeping/being sick and miserable. Bleak times. Catherine was going to come visit on Tuesday but I didn’t think it’d be nice to have her over to watch me be sick, even if she is going to be a doctor. By Wednesday night I was kind of feeling up to activity so Hayley and Carley came over to talk, play Just Dance and to kill virtual bears on the Wii. We always have good times even when there are imminent bears and double bears involved.

Thursday I just hung out with my parents since both were off work. Mom and I went to the mall and mom was of course more or less robbing stores with her coupons used in conjunction with deals. Friday we went shopping again just to get out of the house and then we went over to my cousin’s house to help decorate the house for Vietnamese New Years. We did a little decorating but most of the time we were just watching my baby cousin Tyler be generally adorable.

Saturday, Brian and I went to give blood. For me, it was both a failure and a victory. It was a failure because the nurse bruised my arm putting the needle in and wiggled the massive needle around in my arm for a bit. It was unpleasant and to add to that for some reason she couldn’t get blood to come out. Yep, I failed at bleeding! She gave up after 10-15 minutes since I’d only provided 1/4 pint of blood. However, I still ate 2 bags of cheez its, drank a bottle of water, and got a free pound of dunkin’ donuts coffee for my mom haha. I thought about editing the “I gave blood” sticker to “I tried to give blood” or “I gave a little blood.”

Tet (Viet New Years) was about as tame as it’s ever been, though it was understandable given our previous week. It was still good to be home and with the family though. We enjoyed good food and good company and that’s all we really need for a good night. Sunday we woke up a bit late due to the party the night before, but have no fear, we still made time to go to the Chinese buffet. I was telling my family that I’m always so confused because whenever we go home it seems like we’re eating at buffets yet I still lose weight at home. I’m not really sure what that says about what I eat while I am in England or while I was in school. After brunch, Nghi and Blagoy came over and we headed back down to Newark where I caught my plane and had an entire row to myself until someone came and sat in the aisle seat. Oh well, I still had one empty seat next to me. The flight was quick (less than 6 hours) – I ate dinner (cheese ravioli) while watching Waiting for Superman and then fell asleep listening to Zac Brown Band. When I woke up I watched some really random Animal Planet show on getting your first puppy. Yeah, I know. Random.

Getting through customs was quick, though the officer asked me loads of questions. I guess I’m just a shady character. My sketchiness factor must’ve been multiplied by ten because I was carrying my panda bear with me… my panda, in conjunction with my imposing physique, must’ve freaked him out.

Anyway, I got the airlink back to Edinburgh Waverley, walked around to find myself a hairy coo hat, and now I am back at Burger King. I’ve still got time to kill so now that I’m rested, maybe I’ll walk around a bit.  I’m alllllmost home. Just a train ride, a walk, and a bus ride away. Crap, I hope I can find my flat key…

…

I wrote this while waiting in the Edinburgh Airport around 6AM GMT Thursday / 1AM EST Thursday:

As I write this, I’m sitting in Edinburgh Airport at 6:35AM. I’m wide awake but in a bit of a daze; I’ve more or less been awake for 24 hours and the only sleep I’ve gotten is a 10 minute doze on the train from Newcastle to Edinburgh. It’s been a busy 24 hours. The day started off normally enough – I woke up at a stupid hour and just stayed in bed staring at the ceiling and mentally prepared myself for my usual Wednesday: Common Ground, Kids Kabin, football. Common Ground and Kids Kabin happened but football did not. When I got home from Kids Kabin I was told by my cousin that my aunt, my mom’s younger sister, was found dead in her apartment, an apparent suicide. After the initial shock/cry I sat in my room in order to decide what to do. Without really thinking I found myself checking all the airline sites for flights home.

Looking back to that time (12 hours ago, though it doesn’t seem that long), if I had actually sat down and thought about it for even just 5 minutes, I’m not sure whether I’d make the same decision to come home. That being said, I do have a tendency to doubt myself and my instincts. But, that which seems to be a collective family instinct, and perhaps a bit of impulsiveness, led to me booking a $459 flight (coming out to $603 after taxes, but I haven’t applied for the bereavement fare yet). When I heard on Wednesday evening that the funeral was going to be on Friday morning, EST, I was a bit unsure whether I could make it home in time. After checking online however, I discovered there was one flight at a reasonable price that would get me home Thursday afternoon and my brother volunteered to pick me up from the airport. The only problem was that the flight left at 9am from Edinburgh and no morning trains would get me there in time; the only option was to take a train Wednesday night at 9:48PM… I came to this realization at around 7:30PM. So, I quickly called up Dad to make sure it was okay with him; he told me I couldn’t make it and that it’d be too expensive, but it didn’t take much convincing once I told him it was doable, relatively cheap, and that I’d already asked my brother to pick me up. Then it was frantic booking and Continental Airline’s website seemed to move as slowly as it’s ever moved. The train site wasn’t cooperating with me either so I decided I’d just buy a ticket at the train station as I ran upstairs to pack my bags while my flatmates graciously packed me a snack bag (Thanks Laura and Abby!). I kind of just threw a few things in my bag, mainly electronics and my panda bear, but stupidly forgot my retainer (please teeth, don’t shift this week), then ran out the door.

I caught the train with plenty of time to spare, arrived in Edinburgh, and then plopped myself down at a Burger King for a solid 2.5 hours or so, eating the worst onion rings ever made just so I could use the free wifi. Then at 1:45AM I caught the bus to the airport where I found a few dozen other travelers sleeping on benches, but failed to actually fall asleep. I walked back and forth in a futile attempt to tire myself out until finally I could check in and proceed to the gate, where I am now.

In about 10 hours I will be landing in Newark so hopefully I’ll get some sleep on the plane if I’m not distracted by the individual tv screens/movies. Something tells me the next couple of days will be physically and mentally exhausting. As I look around me, I’m a little jealous of everyone else for two reasons: 1) they look well rested, and 2) they look excited to be going on a holiday or adventure. I am definitely not well rested. I am a little excited, awful as that may sound, to go home though. I haven’t really gotten homesick in Newcastle, but as soon as I heard the news I knew no one could make me feel better or understand what I was feeling besides my family.

Something tells me they feel the same way, given the response so far. News spreads fast in my family, even though my cousins and I always seem to start conversations with the preface “So my mom told me not to tell anyone but…” Two morals to this story: 1) Don’t tell us cousins any secrets. We will ruin them just about every time. 2) My family shares everything. I suppose they’re kind of the same moral, but one is a bit of a euphemism of the other.

Within an hour of hearing the news, my parents, aunts and uncles – the Phans and all the aunts/uncles who married into the family – all rushed out of work and to my aunt’s house so that any decisions would be made as a family. Sometimes making decisions as a family is a pain, as evidenced by the good ol’ days when all the dads would pull over to the side of the road while we were caravanning to the beach in order to argue about where we got lost and which way we should go from there. Other times, like this, it’s really great to see everyone gathered to get things done and just to be together. While us cousins are spread all over the world, we all know exactly how to get in touch with each other to make sure everyone is doing okay. It only makes me wish that we had done something similar with my aunt, to let her know we were thinking of her and that we love her unconditionally. At family events we’d always say things like “I wish Di Ut were here” but never did anything else about it.

I can only imagine what my aunt’s last moments were like. The only thing I can imagine is my aunt praying, “Please forgive me, God” over and over again, and I can hear her voice saying it. I can’t imagine, however, how scared and alone she must have felt. This is my aunt who isn’t married and has no kids, just a big house with spare rooms filled with dolls. She had really loved one guy a long time ago, but couldn’t marry him due to cultural pressures. I’m glad times have changed, but I only wish that they had changed in time for my aunt to be happy with that man.

My aunt’s passing reminded me the most recent episode of How I Met Your Mother, where one of the main characters tries to recall the last words his father said to him. I tried to remember the last time I spoke with my aunt and it devastates me that I not only can’t remember when we last spoke, but that I also can’t even remember when I last saw her. My aunt was frequently absent from family gatherings for reasons I can’t be bothered to go into, but when she did come along it was just like picking up where we had last left off – there was no awkwardness or resentment from anyone. I remember her laughing hysterically at our antics, our choreographed dances, and other great family moments. Man, she had a great laugh. It was an explosive and almost cackle-like laugh that was strangely contagious.

I’ve never really been an openly expressive or emotional person, so I’m really surprised I’ve even written this much. My flatmates laughed at me the other day because of my almost-absurd loyalty to science and reasoning. Abby asked me if she could borrow a book that I’d brought over to England whenever I finished – I started it on the plane ride to England but since then haven’t even moved the bookmark. I told her she could just borrow it right then and there because “there are too many emotions and feelings in the book” so then my flatmates had a good laugh at my expense. I think I get this lack of open expressiveness from my dad. My mom and brother definitely wear their hearts out on their sleeves and end their conversations with an “I love you” whereas my dad and I end conversations with a “um… k… seeya!” Perhaps I should make a more conscious effort to be a little more open, who knows? It’s something worth thinking about. However, currently, I’m not all that great at expressing emotions. But you know who/what IS good at expressing emotions?

Country music. Did any of you realistically think I could go a ridiculously long post without mentioning country music? The first song that popped into my head is a Tim McGraw song called “If I Died Today” and is about speculating who would remember you, if anyone. Some of the lyrics go “If I died today, who’d turn off my coffee pot, would there be a street rparade, would I just be an afterthought?… I wonder who I’d see, crying standing over me…” This won’t be a rose parade, but she won’t just be forgotten. I have a lot of memories of my aunt even though we grew apart in recent years, but I’d like to think that she won’t just be an afterthought, and I’m sure she will have many people crying standing over her casket.

Taking a step back.

Sometimes I get caught in the trap of falling into a routine and not really appreciating or even forgetting the situations I find myself in each day. I forget things like the time we went over to the Sisters’ House for breakfast. As someone’s toast burnt in the toaster and a dark smoke came out of the toaster, Brother Ralph said dryly, “We still have no pope.” I forget things like our completely non-traditional Thanksgiving, when we had a massive snowball fight – adults (6) versus kids (15+) outside Kids Kabin and then had omelets and bacon for Thanksgiving dinner. I forget the conversations I have with asylum seekers who say ridiculous things like “You’re more American than Obama.” I forget carrying a 20 pound turkey in my backpack on the way home from the grocery store. I forget about how we snuck added weight into our young volunteers’ backpacks when we went on a 4 mile hike through ankle deep mud along Hadrian’s Wall and an old Roman fort. I forget how a small child at Kids Kabin guessed that I was 94 years old. I forget how weather forecasters consider 1-2 inches of snow to be “significant.” I forget the time my bicycle pedal fell off while I was riding it across the street and was then hit by the next oncoming car. I forget the giant decorative deer in the mall that looks like it pooped out a gnome. Long story short, I need to consciously take a step back to appreciate all the ridiculously funny things that happen every day.

 

The time a deer pooped a gnome

Alone time.

This weekend Abby and Laura went to Dublin; I opted out since I’d been there just a few years ago with Carley and I wanted to save some money. This gave me alone time that I hadn’t really realized I needed. Last night after they left, I just sat at my desk and worked on an art project (what, Melissa, you? Work on an art project in your free time?) … and I worked on it for over an hour, which is pretty long for me, simultaneously catching up on some “Stuff you missed in history class” podcasts.

I decided to go to a giant shopping complex this morning and since it is about a 45 minute journey I caught up on even more SYMIHC podcasts — finally, some more intellectual stimulation! I had mixed success Christmas shopping, experienced complete failure at the crane games, but generally just enjoyed all the Christmas decorations. Pretty much all day I was surrounded by droves of people, but at the same time I felt very alone, but alone in a very comfortable way. My only interactions were with cashiers, and a quick hello to some faces I recognized from Common Ground.

Later in the evening though, I went to the theatre with the Sisters and Brother Ralph so have no fear, I wasn’t a complete loner all day. The play was “The Unexpected Guest,” which was based off an Agatha Christie writing, and Brother Lawrence was in the play (I hadn’t known he would be). I think I was the youngest person in the audience by a pretty good number of years but if growing older means going to plays I’m pretty okay with aging. I was thinking about it — tonight was my 3rd latest night out since I’ve been in England, and I was with 3 Sisters and a Brother… epic fail or epic victory… I’m leaning towards victory. Since the theatre was in Tynemouth, Jill, Ralph and I even got the chance to look at the boats on the North Sea in the dark. It was pretty cool, and was overall a very enjoyable night.

Tomorrow there should be a parade going by my window, so I’m pretty excited about that. I’ve got a lot of things to do tomorrow and I’m excited about them so perhaps I’ll be going to bed soon. I’m going to read and learn more about British Asylum Seeker law, do some organizing, cook, and make soy bean milk! Hooray for a day of parading, intellectual stimulation, organization, and good food and drink

Oops

Oops. Has it really been over a month? I think what has happened is that I keep thinking about writing, then think about how much I need to catch up on that I just get discouraged and put off writing. So. I convinced myself to write by saying I’d do a super-brief re-cap instead of something extensive.

So what’s been going on in lovely Walker? Well, I sprained my ankle for one which was a real shame since I had just gotten cleared to play in the qualifying rounds of the FA Cup with my team (they’ve since gotten knocked out). My ankle still isn’t normal yet but it doesn’t hurt as much or as often as it did initially. I also have to concede that the recovery is probably slowed by my own decisions, decisions such as the one to walk the cobblestone streets of York (yet again), then walk miles around Edinburgh, climb a volcanic rock, and then go camping. Meh, nothing a little Ibuprofen couldn’t get me through.

But yeah, that’s what I’ve been up to. It was nice to take a day trip to York where I had spent so much time and to show my flatmates around. They now appreciate Mr Sandwich as much as I do. I had both of my go-to sandwiches – #7 (Chicken and cauliflower with a mint mayonnaise) and #36 (cheese, pickle, lettuce, etc) – so knowing that I’d only spent 2 pounds total on lunch and dinner made me a happy camper. As we walked around town I thought about all the friends I’d made in York and about how none of them were there anymore. Then I looked up and saw one of probably two people I know still in York. What a small world.

The weekend after York my flatmates and I headed off to Edinburgh! I had been to Edinburgh over 5 years ago with History Club but I could remember that I liked it. We went to loads of places – the Dungeon, the Dean Gallery, the Loch Ness 3D experience, on a tour of the vaults, and then a ghost tour all in one day. The next day was epic. I’d found a tour online called TheHairyCoo.Com and holy moly it may have been one of my greatest ever life decisions. It was a FREE tour (well, you tipped what you thought the tour was worth and/or however much you could afford) and it took us through a good bit of the Highlands in a bright orange minibus driven by a local guy named Donald. We stopped at the Wallace Monument in Stirling and I could fairly vividly remember the hike up to the monument 5 years ago. Then, we stopped at Doune Castle where they filmed Monty Python and the Holy Grail!! It was glorious. Don let us borrow coconuts to clap as we galloped around the castle. Next on the tour was a stop in a town called Aberfoyle for lunch where we saw birds of prey, then it was on to look for hairy coos! We saw loads and it was wonderful. Finally, we stopped in Falkirk where they have this giant wheel that simultaneously raises and lowers boats. Apparently what happened was some engineers wanted to connect Glasgow to Edinburgh by water. Instead of starting at a common point and working toward the cities, they started at the cities and planned to meet in the middle… but then when they got to the meeting point, they realized they were at different elevations; thus, they built this neato wheel, which is apparently very energy efficient, running mostly on solar power.

After a long day of the Highlands, Abby, Laura, and I stopped at a pub for some cheap grub. Ah how I missed very-average but cheap greasy food! Sunday morning I woke up early to find the gravestone of Adam Smith, who was apparently just chilling down the road from our hostel. Crazy. Laura and I then went on a free tour of the town while Abby met up with a friend. After we reunited with Abby we decided to climb Arthur’s Seat, a volcanic rock not too far from our hostel (don’t you just love Europe? Hostels are near dead economists, volcanic rocks, castles, vaults, etc). The climb was not fun times for my ankle, but otherwise it was great. We took a route that was different to that us History Clubbers had taken 5 years ago, but looking around I could remember exactly where we had been. Craziness. Anyhow, if anyone ever comes to visit me in Newcastle, I’d be very open and willing to make a trip up to Edinburgh seeing as it’s only 1.5 hours away by train. How great is that?

After Edinburgh, it was back to good ol’ Walker. It was half-term here which meant the kids got a week off from school. Did we get a break too? Not a chance. On Monday I was sent to run an activity by myself to the west of Newcastle. What was I doing? Oh you know, the usual stuff – making kids ride a bicycle with a generator attached in order to 1) inflate balloons (so that I could make sweet balloon animals), or 2) power a stereo. Yeah, I was pretty cool, until the man with a robotic fire-breathing horse came along. Then my balloon swans, rabbits, elephants, etc. seemed a lot less impressive. I did the same thing on Tuesday, but luckily Abby was with me so I wasn’t on my own since there were tons of kids. Wednesday I was still at Common Ground, and then Thursday was yet another adventure.

On Thursday I got to go on my first Kids Kabin trip. 5 of us adult/staff/volunteers took 6 young volunteers camping. But this isn’t your average “take the kids camping” kind of trip. We actually made these 12 year olds carry a decent amount of stuff in the camping packs we allowed them to borrow, such as tents, their sleeping bags, their roll mats, etc. It was hilarious to see what they brought; one kid brought 3 pillows, almost all packed like 10 bars of candy, and some even packed 2 litre bottles of soda. Apparently they didn’t realize how far they’d have to carry it. Now 4 miles isn’t that bad, but when you’re a 12 year old who hasn’t really ever done anything like this before, it can seem like 100 miles. Anyway, I didn’t tell you where we went camping yet. Get ready for it – we went camping along Hadrian’s Wall, out past an old Roman Fort at a place called Housesteads. The bothy – a little stone house where people can come and stay for free – was a 4 mile hike from our minibus. Yet again, not a fun time for my ankle, but otherwise it was great. The kids were pretty good for the most part and were quite patient, at least in comparison to the younger kids we usually get during our sessions. They all helped us cut firewood, etc. One kid even gave us a hilarious bedtime “scary” story that included a character named “Gordon…BaDorgan” who was the chef for a vampire who served… meat that was still raw (aka rare?). Greatest plot ever?

Sleeping was pretty unpleasant. There were 4 single beds and a double bed, so there were 4 people on the beds, 3 on the floor, and us 4 girls squished horizontally onto the double bed. It took the kids forever to calm down and go to bed, but one of the kids talked in her sleep/was coughing up a lung, and others were just plain still hyper or snored really loudly. By 1am however, most had fallen asleep. That’s when the door opened and we opened our eyes to see someone walking out. Our director, Will, had mentioned potentially going for an early morning walk so we assumed it was him… until we saw him sitting up on the floor. Apparently, some people had decided to go hiking at midnight. They were otherwise very nice and sensible, but it was a pretty funny moment, though also very confusing at the time. In the morning, we had some tasty bacon and sausage stotties, then headed back to the minibus. The kids were much less whiney this time around and we made good time in getting back. The ride back to Kids Kabin (about an hour) seemed to take ages since we were all tired from hiking/lack of sleep, but we did finally return home, which meant I survived my first Kids Kabin trip!

Now that half-term is over, it’s back to the usual grind. The kids at KK are trying at time, but amazing at others. Common Ground is getting better for me. I’ve taken on random little organizational projects around the office and though it’s nothing to do with casework or anything, it means that I’m in the office more often as opposed to in the tea/waiting room, so I do get to hear more of what’s going on with the casework. I’m slowly getting more responsibilities too which is great. Common Ground is an interesting place. Some days it’s really cool to see how diverse the people there are. On so many occasions an asylum seeker will come in speaking a language none of the volunteers speak, so we’ll just go around the waiting room asking if anyone can translate and 9 times out of 10, someone can translate for us, whether it be from Arabic, Farsi, Swahili, French, or something else. The range of needs is broad, but not really all that surprising. Some just need a phone to call job centres, their solicitors, or housing authorities. Some need money, others need clothes, others need food, others just need someone to talk to. It can be great to work there on days when people receive good news, like notification of status being granted, but yesterday was one of those sad days when someone received bad news that she would not be granted status and that an appeal was unlikely to be successful, so comprehensive were the reasons for denying her status. When it comes to situations like that all we can really do is give the person some food and say “I’m sorry” which is tough. We also had a woman come in yesterday to speak to one of the staff members who was not in. We asked what is unfortunately a fairly common question, “Do you think you can manage until tomorrow?” and she gave the common response “no,” so again all we could really do was give her a bag of food. Sigh.

Well, now that I’ve left this off on a terribly depressing note, perhaps it’s time for bed. I’ll try to be better about updating this!

Bad day, Good lessons

By 9:30AM yesterday was already a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day (okay, a slight exaggeration but the phrase reminded me of that children’s book). I woke up not in the greatest of moods as one of my loads of laundry had taken over 7 hours to complete the night before (we have a fickle washing machine). I was torn between going to Lidl (like an Aldi) and going running since I have my first match in ages on Sunday. I decided to multitask by running to Aldi with my money in my Velcro pocket and then to walk back after collecting some goodies.

About 2 minutes into my run I stepped in a ginormous puddle… with one foot. So every other step was a very annoying *squish*. Okay, that’s not too bad, that kind of stuff happens to everyone. When I got to Lidl I collected about half of the things I’d planned on purchasing before checking my money; apparently I had dropped ten pounds somewhere along the way. This was particularly annoying since that amounts to almost 1/3 of my weekly stipend here. I retraced my steps around the store and couldn’t find the money so I just went to pay for the groceries I could afford. Still annoyed I exited the store and just as I stepped out the heavens opened and unleashed a furious rain storm on me for 15 minutes of my 20 minute walk home. When I arrived home I went to pack my lunch since I was working at Common Ground through lunch; of course all the bread had to be moldy! (Luckily though, Laura came back with bread just before I had to leave so I had time to make a sandwich.)

I didn’t have much to do at Common Ground but I did have a few good conversations with other workers and some asylum seekers; however, essentially throwing away 15 dollars was still in the back of my mind. I headed straight to Kids Kabin after Common Ground and most of the kids in my session were a bit rambunctious. Incidents included a kid getting his pants pulled down, many near-fist-fights, and one child throwing down a container full of other kids’ work and overturning a table before storming out of the room. Sigh. Just another day at Kids Kabin.

Finally it was time for me to escape so I headed home to make some Vietnamese Summer Rolls.  This is kind of where my day turned around. Even though I’m not that great at cooking (yet!) I find something about it very therapeutic, even at Kids Kabin where there are kids buzzing about the kitchen. I prepared the ingredients and just sat there quietly making summer rolls and then tried a roasted cauliflower recipe I’d found. Both turned out pretty well. Add to that, the washing machine decided to cooperate as well so I got 2 loads of laundry done within a normal period of time. Afterwards, I got the chance to vent to some people back home about the earlier part of my day which made me feel much better.

At the end of the day I realized that yes, I must be more careful with my money, but that I also have to remember that it’s just money. I’m in a unique position where I don’t need to rely on money for basic needs such as housing and food so any money I lose is really just spending money. Compare this to the situation of the asylum seekers at Common Ground and my annoyance seems rather petty. At Common Ground people only take the food they need (even if offered more) because they realize there are other people who might need it and could make better use of it or enjoy it more. With regards to the kids at KK, I had fallen into the trap where I’d gotten comfortable with the children and forgotten what their backgrounds were. I just have to remember to remind myself that there’s a reason, whether I know it or not, that these kids act up the way they do. When all is said and done, even in my “voluntary poverty” I am probably much better off than most of the people around me and I just have to remind myself that more often. Also, I have to remember to listen to Travis Tritt’s “Great Day to Be Alive” because I’m convinced that my forgetting to listen to it yesterday led to the day’s events.

Great Day to Be Alive

Some thoughts…

I really enjoyed myself today; I found my way to the West Moor Community Centre where I met the Forest Hall football team via a bus route I’d never traveled before, and I even got off without going a stop too far. Everyone on the team was very warm and welcoming and made me feel part of the group for which I will be eternally thankful. The match ended in a draw, followed by the obligatory post-match pub meal nearby.

Despite all the fun I’ve been having, that anxiety about the future keeps on creeping in. I don’t know what I’ll be doing next year and I probably won’t start job searching until March or April since I wouldn’t be able to come in to interview for any positions anyways. It would help if I knew what field to apply for jobs in too. The past few days when I’ve been getting anxious I try to re-read a bit of John Henry  Newman’s Hymn “Lead Kindly Light.” Newman has been emphasized a lot these past few days since the Pope was in England for Newman’s beatification, and though I know I should just have a little more faith I definitely struggle (but I do try) to believe it when I read:

Lead, kindly Light, amid th’encircling gloom, lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home; lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I’ll just have to work harder to focus on taking things one step at a time and trust that things will work out. Another bit of Newman that I do readily find encouragement in is from his Meditations on Christian Doctrine, which Brother Ralph printed out for us at morning prayer. The parts that appeal to me read:

I am created to do something or to be something for which no one else is created; I have a place in God’s counsels, in God’s world, which no one else has… God has created me to do him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which he has not committed to another. I have my mission – I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. Somehow, I am necessary for his purposes; I have a great part in his work. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for nothing… I ask not to see; I ask not to know; I simply ask to be used.

I know I have a role to play and a niche to fill; the tricky bit is finding out what that is!