October 31, 2005

Altitude.

I heard the wind and rain pounding against my window last night. It was the kind of storm that keeps you at the surface of sleep and builds itself into brief dreams.

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Six of seven are in the air today. Disa, Dan, Eric, Karin, Mike, and Laura will land in Uganda on November 2nd. I'll be leaving to join them this coming Saturday.

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Are you dressing up tonight? What's your costume?

October 29, 2005

Love, food, backpacks and primates.

The other night someone asked me if I have ever been in love. The question got me thinking. I have certainly felt a strong emotional bond and attraction toward men in my life. I know that I have loved some as much as I love many of my close friends. However I am pretty sure than I have never actually been in love.

I love my family a lot. My relationships within our little clan are deep and shaping. But there is no sexual edge to those interactions (Put Freud away for this, please). I love my friends in the same way. Many have become extended family. They are my primary community and my first layer of consultation. But being in love. I just don't know. It must be deeper than mutual admiration and compatibility. I have experienced those, but they just don'’t seem to stick for long.

"You'll know," they assure me. "Somehow you just know that you are in love. It is different than anything else."

Okay, but I tend to like to define things in more concrete terms. So friends, have you been in love? How did you know?

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My soon-to-be traveling companions and I had dinner with an Egyptian couple last night. Hannah and Isaac hosted a delicious meal that filled their table and ended with baklava and tea. Let me tell you, they sure know how to cook in Egypt.

Our stomachs were quickly filled by the heaping portions that we were served. "No diet today!" Hannah kept telling us with each spoonful for our plates. Their home was warm and packed with guests. By the end of the evening, my eyes were so heavy that the thought of lying on the linoleum floor for a nap sounded unreasonably tempting. I went home, went to bed, and slept for twelve hours.

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Packing, packing, packing. There are so many last minute things to do. The corner of my room is slowly filling with things that I will be taking on my trip. Now the question remains: will it all fit in the backpack?

The Challenge

At the airport we are each checking two large trunks full of supplies for the orphanages, so my personal possessions are necessarily limited to the size of my carry on. I'm happy to travel lightly, but it is always a bit of a challenge to whittle down the load.

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Those selfish apes. Have you heard about this study? It seems that chimps have no inherent desire to help others. I'm interested to hear the results if and when they perform the same experiment with human children.

October 26, 2005

I hate stalemates

and other issues that don't ever seem to resolve.

October 24, 2005

Saburi ni njema: Patience is good.

This last weekend was full of Africa team activities. It was a much more emotional time for me than I would have expected. I am starting to really feel it inside of me. All of the preparations are good and exciting, but my heart is ready to just go. Everyone but me is leaving exactly one week from today, so my departure feels perhaps more immediate than it would otherwise. I still have 12 days until I fly out.

Part of me is sad to be joining things late. I am worried that I will be sorting through some of the initial thoughts and feelings on my own instead of with the team. I will miss out on the benefit of the group process and team bonding during those first few days. I am also nervous that it will be more difficult to connect with the kids when I show up during the middle of our stay at Amazing Grace in Uganda.

On the other hand, I am excited to grow through the chance to travel on my own. I know it probably won’t be an entirely smooth experience, but I am looking forward to stretching myself a bit. I am also very glad to be able to go to Kenya- an experience that I would miss if I was with the team from the beginning.

This trip is really the only thing on my mind right now. My heart always makes its priorities obvious. It is difficult to concentrate on the other things that I need to get done in work and studies.
Focus Erin, focus.

October 21, 2005

Cat traps and Chinese food.

I met my mom for a late dinner this evening. It was her idea to spend a little girl time together, and I enthusiastically took her up on suggestion. I stopped by the house to pick her up, and I waited on the couch in the living room while she put on her coat and shoes. We made our way out into the crisp, fall evening toward the Happy Chinese Restaurant with our minds on combo platters and hot tea.

The place was packed. It is just a little hole in the wall with gold decorations and brown booths harvested from some other restaurant that must have closed in the seventies, but the food is great. We stood in the crowded foyer among other locals while we waited for a table to clear.

At first the server led us to a little table in the back corner, but it was dark and cramped, so we asked to be seated in a booth that opened in the front. Again we crossed through the crowd of families and retired couples, and we settled comfortably into the vinyl seats.

It felt like a perfect ending for the day. We chatted about life over our fried rice and pork, and as we left I noticed that the stars were shining brightly through the clear sky.

The trouble didn’t surface until we got home. As I walked in the house, I heard my mom behind me. “Erin,” she said, and then she burst out laughing.

“What? What is it?” I asked, knowing that whatever it was could not be good for my self esteem.

“Check the back of your pants.”

This seems like an appropriate time to explain one of the unique aspects of my family home.

My dad hates cat hair, and he especially hates cat hair on furniture. This preference of his is in direct conflict with the family cat’s fondness for sleeping on the living room couch. It has been a battle for years. Dad finds the cat on the couch and throws him out. Cat reenters through the cat door and resumes his nap on the couch. And on and on.

To break the cycle, my dad came up with the brilliant idea of placing long strips of duct tape- sticky side up- on the couch cushions. After a couple of painful episodes, the cat now knows to look for the tape on the couch and avoid it at all costs.

Unfortunately, human guests are not nearly as well trained. While I waited for my mom to ready herself, I had rested on the couch in the dark living room. Little did I know that I was picking up a souvenir that would stick to the back of my pants at an odd angle for the rest of the evening.

I wonder what the other restaurant patrons thought of the girl with the huge piece of shiny tape stuck to her backside. In retrospect, I suppose getting extra attention with a glinting behind is less disruptive than the hassle of trying to remove that stubborn strip in public. I had quite a job of peeling it off my pants when we were home.

I am glad that the duct tape episode did not interrupt my night out with my mom. By the time I realized what had happened, it was easier to laugh than blush. But I am going to have to be more careful about where I sit in that house.

October 20, 2005

Oh, the power.

Unbelievable. There is no end to Myspace's ever widening web.

October 19, 2005

Footnotes on the front page.

Mugabe's efforts to "clean up" Zimbabwe continue, and church leaders are asking the world for help. More than 200,000 of Africa's poorest have been left without shelter and work since the government started tearing down shanty towns in what has been benignly named "Operation Murambatsvina."

For a population already plagued by hunger and HIV, this displacement seems especially cruel. Instead of making any progress against poverty, Mugabe has just caused the poor to live in worse conditions with less food and more disease.

I don't know what else to do but draw attention to these events and pray.

The Lord works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed. Psalm 103:6

October 17, 2005

Don't miss, I said, don't miss a beat.

You can all breathe a big sigh of relief. I got my computer back today. It feels good to have a familiar keyboard beneath my fingers.

The weekend was full and fast. After I returned from Seattle, my community group from Vibrant hosted a pumpkin carving party at my house. Imagine giving squash to seven boys under the age of twelve and asking them to tear it apart. In your house. With their hands. It was awesome.





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I may come back from Africa with typhoid if my doctor's office doesn't get their act together. Today included too many calls trying to get point A to connect with point B in automated phone system land so that I can avoid getting ill.

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And what's this? My roommate Carolyn brought her piano over on Sunday. Our house shall be a house of music!

October 14, 2005

Cliff Notes on the life of Erin.

After a very early morning drive from Portland, I am in Seattle for a brief visit to see my siblings, do some errands, and connect with friends. Bethany and I will be driving back to Portland tomorrow. I found out that I still have cafeteria meals left on my student card (two years since purchase!), so I am reliving the good ol' college days of standing in long lines to be fed.

Highlight of today: I got to sit in on a class that my sister is taking with my favorite professor of all time. She was my advisor, and she taught the classes that changed my life.


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As a practice in self disclosure, I decided to list a few things that you may or may not know about me. Forgive me for the egocentric exercise, but- hey- you are reading my blog. Consider it a glimpse into the life of Erin.

1. I am a middle child.
2. I once broke my arm while getting into a hot tub.
3. Sadly, I am allergic to cats.
4. I cannot stand drinking milk out of any sort of white container (especially Styrofoam cups- and this situation arises more than you would expect it to).
5. I was once questioned by the FBI.
6. I sewed an entire outfit for myself when I was in 3rd grade. It was a seascape print shirt and hot pink shorts with a matching fabric bow for my hair.
7. My favorite flower is the iris.
8. I sing very loudly when I am listening to music alone in my car.
9. I used to be afraid of mirrors.
10. Every once in a great while my teeth whistle when I say the "S" sound.

October 12, 2005

Let's hear it for renewable energy.

Good news folks- salt water may eventually become as useful as oil. Now that would simplify international politics, wouldn't it?

This article from Nature.com discusses new technology to harness energy from wave swells in the ocean. I am optimistic about "clean" energy, but I am also impatient. It seems like The Solution is always on the horizon but never in the power grid. Can you imagine how the world would change if we could break free from our dependence on oil reserves? I hope to see it in my lifetime.

October 11, 2005

The short list.

I haven't been able to write much lately because my little laptop is in disrepair. It stopped recognizing the power adaptor, so my battery drained with no way to recharge it. My computer- along with many important pictures and pieces of my writing- now lies in the (hopefully) capable hands of a computer servicing crew somewhere in Texas. Fortunately my warranty is still in effect through the fifteenth of this month.

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Big, big earthquake. I hate that I feel almost numb to what is going on in Pakistan. How much can I or should I try to hold in my heart? I am exhausted by the thought of another tragedy. But it never ends, does it?

It is time for the Earth to calm down for a while. We humans create enough crises on our own.

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I worked late last night, and I will be working almost every evening this week. Here's a true confession: I start slurring my words when I have been at work for more than eleven hours. I am so grateful for weekends.

October 09, 2005

Go on, get your Erin out.

This and many more fun slogans to be found at the Automatic Slogan Generator.

So what did your name bring up?

October 07, 2005

They'll thank me in college.

The neighbor boys were locked out of their house today, so they came over for hot chocolate and a game of "Authors" (the literary version of "Go Fish").

I loved hearing them play:

"Thebathtian (Sebastian), do you have Charwe of the Light Bwiggid by Alfwed, Lowd Tennyisin?"

October 06, 2005

The circle of life.

As I left my house this morning, a slight rustle caused me to glance toward my neighbor's yard. There on the roof, only twenty feet from me, was a Great Blue Heron. It's feathers were a deep, dark blue, and the magnificent bird watched me with a cocked head as I watched him. His long neck and prehistoric size made him seem almost personable.

After a few moments of our mutual observation had passed, my feathered friend spread his giant wings and lifted into the air. He flew slowly and deliberately over rooftops and out of sight. I climbed into my car and pulled away.

Oh, I was elated. It is uncommon to see such wildlife in the middle of the city. For a moment I could almost picture the marshy land that must have spread through the area before the houses were built. The heron was like a shadow from another time.

About seven hours later it hit me.

My fish.

The three fish that normally flit around my pond have been missing in action for nearly a week. I had assumed that the murky water and cooler weather had just mellowed them out. Maybe their appetites had decreased? But now I see the reality.

My heron friend was a predator. My bright orange fish were easy prey.

Oh Hank, Peggy and little Bobby, you were good fish. You brought joy to my summer afternoons. I laughed at your fishy antics, and you swam around in circles again and again. I'll miss you.

Beautiful, cruel life.

October 05, 2005

The long, dark shadow.

I just finished reading King Leopold's Ghost by Adam Hochschild. It is a book about the colonization and exploitation of the Congo by the Belgian monarch during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. The atrocities that were committed under the drive for profits would make anyone cringe. There is evidence that ten million Congolese people died of abuse or outright murder during the ivory and rubber frenzies.

It has me thinking about racism. The West was able to overlook the Congo because questioning the abuses there would mean reevaluating the entire colonial system that fueled Western economies. The exploitation required the participation of individuals at every level of government, military, finance and even religion. Every one had a role to keep the system going.

Hindsight is of course twenty-twenty. Hochschild gives a full and awful picture of how the system mutilated bodies and ultimately destroyed entire societies. But no one saw the whole picture- not even the greedy king. Everyone was shielded just enough to justify their own actions, to pass the blame up or down without missing a paycheck. That seems to be how systems of injustice work. They build on small concessions to injustice- not always starting with the assumption that some life is less valuable, just considering other (read: monetary) factors as more immediately important.

So then it seems that the core of racism ultimately becomes about self-interest, not hating others. My needs justify my actions, even if they affect you. (Not to say that it doesn't become externally focused, destructive and evil, but the root comes from prioritizing the self.)

Now let's consider the most recent context of race and economics brought up because of Hurricane Katrina. Many have argued that if the evacuees had been white they would have received more help and quicker aid. What we clearly saw was a lack of resources for the thousands of New Orleans' residents that were stranded in their city. In this case, race highlights the economic divide that we see throughout the nation.

So perhaps this is how the racism comes to light: those in power had means of escape. As far as I know, it wasn't that anyone intentionally neglected those resources for the poor, black minority. Instead, the need was never even on the minds of those in charge. Not to say that Katrina could have been entirely anticipated by anyone, but I would argue that the wealthy have means to deal with catastrophes just by default. Those left behind are the glaring testimony of the needs that have been overlooked. The visible powerless define the invisible powerful.

The story of the Congo is just one example of the extent to which neglect and self interest can become monstrous. Every culture, every nation has overdue blame to acknowledge. It is just such a slippery slope.

I've been trying to imagine who would be left behind in Portland if a disaster with effects as devastating as Katrina should hit our city. I think that I am slowly forming an idea. So now I have to ask myself hard questions: how do I anticipate the needs of the powerless? How do I overturn my own assumptions and become an active participant in supporting equal human rights? And how, how do I weed out those small concessions to injustice in my life that feed the larger beast?

October 02, 2005

Just looking, thanks.

Dot and I went to "The Affair" at the Jupiter Hotel here in Portland. Every year the hotel turns its many rooms into mini art studios filled with innovative work. Galleries from all over the country set up their own abbreviated space, and almost everything is for sale.

The collectors were there. Oh, the collectors. All art and business mixed- a strange lot. So many people with thoughtfully gelled hair and noticeable eye glasses. I enjoyed overhearing the conversations.
"Oh yes, I'm buying."
"I'm very familiar with her work. It reminds me of another..."
"Do you sell on a handshake?" "Of course we do."
"The nuance in that piece- it strikes me."

I didn't have long to stay, but I soaked it in. It was simply a different crowd of individuals trying to be in the know, trying to find a niche. And there was some remarkable art to be seen.

It generally seems to be the case.

"Go out and stand before me on the mountain," the Lord told him. And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.
1 Kings 19:11-13

October 01, 2005

The countdown is on.

I had dinner last night with some of the friends that I will be traveling with in Africa. Karin was kind enough to host us and make some pretty fantastic vegetarian burritos. I cannot believe that we leave so soon; it is just over a month until departure. The details are slowly cementing it as a reality in my mind.

Here's a picture I stole from Dan of the five of us based in Portland. There will be seven travelers in all:

Can't get enough of this Africa excitement? Want to know more? Check out the new Lahash blog.

In the meantime, I need to find a large yet carry-on-appropriate backpack for the trip. Any suggestions? I don't want to spend a lot of money, and I'm not sure where to start looking. My only criteria is that it is lightweight and sturdy.

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It just started hailing outside. From the window I can see blue sky through the ice pellets. Strange world.