Somehow living in the U.S. makes my life not as interesting anymore. Well, I can't be sure it ever was all that interesting to begin with.
Still, despite the fact that I am older and have taken the steps to live a responsible, more secure life, I have managed to not even do this in a normal or semi-normal fashion.
I have, praise Jesus, found per diem work as a substitute teacher for the Somerville school district (and hopefully also Cambridge). This means that I can take no-strings-attached time off for missions trips and weekend concerts in some glamorous location halfway across the country. Or globe.
The first trip on the schedule is the Feast of Tabernacles in Kalisz, Poland. You might remember the posts from last year. They were numerous, and I expect they will be this year as well. With the help of an incredible friend and partner, I can make this year's feast, flying out of Boston.
This will of course be balanced with hopefully leading worship at the house of prayer attached to my lovely new home church, and working on fabulous music collaborations with my new music partners.
I don't think I could have planned this any better myself.
Really.
My plans never turn out quite the way I expect or want them to.
So, here's to entering a new stage in life's adventures, and here's to hoping you'll continue to join me along the way.
Happy trails folks!
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Friday, September 12, 2014
Making Home
I like the idea of building a home, though the concept has not always been an easy one for me to grasp. I am the free spirit, the baby bird who jumped the nest just a bit before her wings were able to fully carry her. I have left a trail of broken hearts across the globe. People who hoped I would stay, people who hoped I wouldn't. I've caused my own heart to be broken more times than I care to recall.
All the same, there always seemed to be a nest of pine needles to soften the impact when my wings couldn't quite make it anymore.
And now that bed of needles (soft and fresh scented) is a place I like to call Boston, MA, USA. It is a group of people I like to call family more than friends.
Family is something Italy taught me, and that I had hoped would translate well to American culture upon my return here. It would seem that it has.
I have an incredible new church family, and I am (slowly, but surely) reconnecting with friends and family throughout the USA. I love it.
But I am also aware that there is a cushion for my falls still there for me in Europe. I am aware that there are still people there who are more family than friends, places that feel more "home" than "temporary dwelling place". I love it.
Once you've made some place home it never stops being that, even if you've moved away and found ways to make "home" somewhere else.
I am now at place in which it would behoove me to solidify what home and family are to me. Especially since I'll be building those things with someone else.
But then I think, I already have it, and any building will be added onto the foundation of all the fabulous experiences that have come before. I am loved. I am valued. And because I know that so surely, so strongly, it is no problem to want to make others feel that way too.
All the same, there always seemed to be a nest of pine needles to soften the impact when my wings couldn't quite make it anymore.
And now that bed of needles (soft and fresh scented) is a place I like to call Boston, MA, USA. It is a group of people I like to call family more than friends.
Family is something Italy taught me, and that I had hoped would translate well to American culture upon my return here. It would seem that it has.
I have an incredible new church family, and I am (slowly, but surely) reconnecting with friends and family throughout the USA. I love it.
But I am also aware that there is a cushion for my falls still there for me in Europe. I am aware that there are still people there who are more family than friends, places that feel more "home" than "temporary dwelling place". I love it.
Once you've made some place home it never stops being that, even if you've moved away and found ways to make "home" somewhere else.
I am now at place in which it would behoove me to solidify what home and family are to me. Especially since I'll be building those things with someone else.
But then I think, I already have it, and any building will be added onto the foundation of all the fabulous experiences that have come before. I am loved. I am valued. And because I know that so surely, so strongly, it is no problem to want to make others feel that way too.
Saturday, August 30, 2014
TLoEHR: Cultural Literacy
Let me start this post by affirming that I am not, by far, the most culturally literate person out there. I can say however, that when someone's lack of cultural literacy has something directly to do with you, you tend to feel a little bit on the up-and-up as far as things like that are concerned.
With that introduction, let me take you through a few of the more interesting moments of intercultural exchange the took place whilst I was in Albania.
1. "American Culture" vs. "British Culture" or Wii Gone Wrong?
While in Albania I stayed in a most fabulous hostel, called Propaganda Hostel. The staff are super friendly and the prices are quite manageable, etc etc. In short, loved it.
However, there are a few bad apples in every barrel. In this case it was the older British man who insisted on complaining or griping over anything that didn't go his way. For those not into the crazy party life when they are indoors and trying to sleep, this is the hostel for you. With that in mind, I aimed to take advantage of a wii and my games to, you know, have some fun. Some end by 8:00PM even though quiet hours start at 11:00PM fun.
Still, someone saw fit to complain about it and when I was helping bring in our pizza orders, muttered that I could at least be teaching something cultural to the high school boys I was gaming with. He then added, "But then again American culture isn't really culture, is it?"
This was a new one for me, as I am used to these comments being either race or gender based. Nice to know there's another angle.
At any rate, this guy comes in the gaming area in the middle of "Sweet Home Alabama" on Guitar Hero (here's where things get good) and tries to shame me because the song is racist. Ummmmm....
So I say, "If I can forgive you for what you said about American culture, I can forgive these people for writing this song. If I went around worrying about what other people thought and said of me I would be angry all the time. What matters is what God thinks of me. Nothing more, nothing less."
Bam! He shut right up, I ended up in the class journal of those high school boys, and the acts of forgiveness and kindness I continued to show that man were remarked upon with awe, leading someone to say, "It's because she has Jesus." (No one else liked him and pretty much everyone avoided him like the plague.)
2. Cornrows
Another awesome moment occurred when, after singing "Our Father"-Bethel Church in Albanian with a buddy, this buddy's grandmother became open to going to church (whoooo!), and apparently, also to cross cultural interactions. The most momentous moment like this being when she braided my hair in straight-backs. That's right folks. My friend's Albanian grandmother braided my hair. Awesome.
3. ?
This moment was so baffling as to cause difficulty coming up with a title.
So I met this woman who was married to an American. Being thusly united, I assumed a certain level of cultural literacy. Wrong.
I am standing with my guitar when this woman asks me if I'm from Africa. In Europe this question is pretty standard and actually makes sense given that most immigrants of color actually are more directly tied to the continent. Anyway, when I said I was American, she apologized and said she wasn't sure why she thought that. I told her there were a few giveaways that would give her that idea, and that it was perfectly fine for her to think I was from Africa since, in effect, that's where my roots trace back to anyway.
Then she says something about dance and I say something to the effect that yes I like to dance, and yes, I suppose it is important in African American culture, but no, I wasn't here to dance today.
Then she says, complete with a broadway-esque hip high hand flare with spirit fingers on the word "dance", "Oh, I just walked in and I saw you and I thought, here's this African woman and she's gonna dance for us!"
At this point I kindly ended the conversation while trying not to laugh. I did laugh later though. No harm done ;).
With that introduction, let me take you through a few of the more interesting moments of intercultural exchange the took place whilst I was in Albania.
1. "American Culture" vs. "British Culture" or Wii Gone Wrong?
While in Albania I stayed in a most fabulous hostel, called Propaganda Hostel. The staff are super friendly and the prices are quite manageable, etc etc. In short, loved it.
However, there are a few bad apples in every barrel. In this case it was the older British man who insisted on complaining or griping over anything that didn't go his way. For those not into the crazy party life when they are indoors and trying to sleep, this is the hostel for you. With that in mind, I aimed to take advantage of a wii and my games to, you know, have some fun. Some end by 8:00PM even though quiet hours start at 11:00PM fun.
Still, someone saw fit to complain about it and when I was helping bring in our pizza orders, muttered that I could at least be teaching something cultural to the high school boys I was gaming with. He then added, "But then again American culture isn't really culture, is it?"
This was a new one for me, as I am used to these comments being either race or gender based. Nice to know there's another angle.
At any rate, this guy comes in the gaming area in the middle of "Sweet Home Alabama" on Guitar Hero (here's where things get good) and tries to shame me because the song is racist. Ummmmm....
So I say, "If I can forgive you for what you said about American culture, I can forgive these people for writing this song. If I went around worrying about what other people thought and said of me I would be angry all the time. What matters is what God thinks of me. Nothing more, nothing less."
Bam! He shut right up, I ended up in the class journal of those high school boys, and the acts of forgiveness and kindness I continued to show that man were remarked upon with awe, leading someone to say, "It's because she has Jesus." (No one else liked him and pretty much everyone avoided him like the plague.)
2. Cornrows
Another awesome moment occurred when, after singing "Our Father"-Bethel Church in Albanian with a buddy, this buddy's grandmother became open to going to church (whoooo!), and apparently, also to cross cultural interactions. The most momentous moment like this being when she braided my hair in straight-backs. That's right folks. My friend's Albanian grandmother braided my hair. Awesome.
3. ?
This moment was so baffling as to cause difficulty coming up with a title.
So I met this woman who was married to an American. Being thusly united, I assumed a certain level of cultural literacy. Wrong.
I am standing with my guitar when this woman asks me if I'm from Africa. In Europe this question is pretty standard and actually makes sense given that most immigrants of color actually are more directly tied to the continent. Anyway, when I said I was American, she apologized and said she wasn't sure why she thought that. I told her there were a few giveaways that would give her that idea, and that it was perfectly fine for her to think I was from Africa since, in effect, that's where my roots trace back to anyway.
Then she says something about dance and I say something to the effect that yes I like to dance, and yes, I suppose it is important in African American culture, but no, I wasn't here to dance today.
Then she says, complete with a broadway-esque hip high hand flare with spirit fingers on the word "dance", "Oh, I just walked in and I saw you and I thought, here's this African woman and she's gonna dance for us!"
At this point I kindly ended the conversation while trying not to laugh. I did laugh later though. No harm done ;).
Friday, August 22, 2014
Back From Outer Space
Hello Folks!
I wanted to be diligent and get all of those Albania blog posts up before moving on to other things but alas, things did not turn out that way. But don't worry. I'll still finish the series. Just not in order...
Anyway, I am back home now and it feels more as if life has grabbed me by the horns.
I remember telling a friend when I was leaving Italy that I realized there were dreams and desires that I had buried in America, pushed aside for the idea of being the missionary living abroad in Italy. Somehow I would feel more a missionary if I was living abroad, not to mention my degree feeling more useful. I mean, how cool is it to major in Italian, something no one thinks is useful, if they're honest, and making it such by living and working abroad in none other than Italy? Really cool.
I've noticed though that since being back things have come together at an alarming rate. I'm back in America barely a month now and it's like a valley of dry bones coming to life. I'm seeing new things happen in my relationships with family and friends, I'm having an amazing time with music, I'm already connected to a house of worship and prayer which in turn has led me what I expect to be a wonderful new church family, and there even seems to be some romance on the horizon.
It almost seems to be too good to be true, but my lack of employment and therefore money, keeps me well grounded. One good thing about the ground though, is that there's always room to rise.
I wanted to be diligent and get all of those Albania blog posts up before moving on to other things but alas, things did not turn out that way. But don't worry. I'll still finish the series. Just not in order...
Anyway, I am back home now and it feels more as if life has grabbed me by the horns.
I remember telling a friend when I was leaving Italy that I realized there were dreams and desires that I had buried in America, pushed aside for the idea of being the missionary living abroad in Italy. Somehow I would feel more a missionary if I was living abroad, not to mention my degree feeling more useful. I mean, how cool is it to major in Italian, something no one thinks is useful, if they're honest, and making it such by living and working abroad in none other than Italy? Really cool.
I've noticed though that since being back things have come together at an alarming rate. I'm back in America barely a month now and it's like a valley of dry bones coming to life. I'm seeing new things happen in my relationships with family and friends, I'm having an amazing time with music, I'm already connected to a house of worship and prayer which in turn has led me what I expect to be a wonderful new church family, and there even seems to be some romance on the horizon.
It almost seems to be too good to be true, but my lack of employment and therefore money, keeps me well grounded. One good thing about the ground though, is that there's always room to rise.
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
TLoEHR: Up All Night
While Friday morning saw us getting up bright and early, Friday night offered no opportunity for some early shut-eye. In fact, it offered no opportunity for any kind of sleep at all.
At some point during the week we got it into our heads to host an all-night prayer and worship gathering. (It was that crazy Tuesday and it was totally my fault for suggesting it. It just sort of popped out of my mouth...) So after finishing up at Radio 7 Bjorni and I grabbed lunch, an ice cream, and then we went to put the finishing touches on the worship space we had begun preparing in days previous. Check it.
The idea for the night was freedom. We wanted to encourage people to worship freely and move freely in their gifts, and so we had a space set up for painting, a separate space for sketching/journaling and writing prayer requests, and dancing, jumping, and just resting in God's presence was all favorably looked upon.
I didn't think I could make it through, but I did!
Here are some pics of the evening.
morning after
At some point during the week we got it into our heads to host an all-night prayer and worship gathering. (It was that crazy Tuesday and it was totally my fault for suggesting it. It just sort of popped out of my mouth...) So after finishing up at Radio 7 Bjorni and I grabbed lunch, an ice cream, and then we went to put the finishing touches on the worship space we had begun preparing in days previous. Check it.
I didn't think I could make it through, but I did!
Here are some pics of the evening.
some art examples
all of the pieces painted were given as gifts :)morning afterMonday, July 28, 2014
TLoEHR: Radio 7
At the time this highlight takes place, I had been in Albania for about four days. I arrived Monday night, and that same Friday morning saw Bjorni (I called him Teddy in the previous post but in retrospect I'll just call him his real name...) and I getting up early for my first international radio gig. It was so cool and so fun, and I can thank so many people for the experiences that I have had, especially throughout college, that helped prepare me for something like this.
I did the half hour morning segment with friends tuning in mostly from Albania and Italy (online), to support me. I can't tell you how incredible that felt!
Radio 7 is Tirana's (the capital of Albania) Christian radio station, which, as far as I could tell, does quite well.
I shared two songs, one in Italian, 'Salmo 36' and one in English, 'Papa', the lyrics of which I've posted here on this blog.
I was asked to talk about what I do, and so I told them about being a worship leader and a bit about the worship nights and street evangelism my buddies and I do often in Milan.
When they asked for the word of encouragement they wanted me to prepare, I shared about the father heart of God, and about how He cares about our dreams. I felt really strongly the importance of sharing that God loves us. He is bothered even with the little things that we don't want to trouble an Almighty God with. Almighty extends even to seeing a friend one last time, who just hapenned to be on the same bus you were on as you headed to Stazione Centrale for your airport transfer. It extends to a situation that makes you laugh ten minutes straight when you're having a bad day. It's the homeless man who gives you what is likely his last seven cents because you look that miserable sitting in South Station, sad you missed seeing a friend and saying one last goodbye to family. You get the point.
After the interview and song sharing, I recorded a couple of tracks. Bjorni sang harmony on one, and we even involved a girl who was hanging out in the station. Her name was Nisa (meaning 'I start/begin') and it was wonderful to bless her in this way.
Considering the fact that we had literally zero practice time, it all came out quite well.
Here are some pics.
I did the half hour morning segment with friends tuning in mostly from Albania and Italy (online), to support me. I can't tell you how incredible that felt!
Radio 7 is Tirana's (the capital of Albania) Christian radio station, which, as far as I could tell, does quite well.
I shared two songs, one in Italian, 'Salmo 36' and one in English, 'Papa', the lyrics of which I've posted here on this blog.
I was asked to talk about what I do, and so I told them about being a worship leader and a bit about the worship nights and street evangelism my buddies and I do often in Milan.
When they asked for the word of encouragement they wanted me to prepare, I shared about the father heart of God, and about how He cares about our dreams. I felt really strongly the importance of sharing that God loves us. He is bothered even with the little things that we don't want to trouble an Almighty God with. Almighty extends even to seeing a friend one last time, who just hapenned to be on the same bus you were on as you headed to Stazione Centrale for your airport transfer. It extends to a situation that makes you laugh ten minutes straight when you're having a bad day. It's the homeless man who gives you what is likely his last seven cents because you look that miserable sitting in South Station, sad you missed seeing a friend and saying one last goodbye to family. You get the point.
After the interview and song sharing, I recorded a couple of tracks. Bjorni sang harmony on one, and we even involved a girl who was hanging out in the station. Her name was Nisa (meaning 'I start/begin') and it was wonderful to bless her in this way.
Considering the fact that we had literally zero practice time, it all came out quite well.
Here are some pics.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Homeward Bound
So it's literally been about a month since I've updated my blog.
Sorry about that.
I am now homeward bound. I did decide, however, to make a quick pit-stop in Albania to visit a friend. My next few blog posts will be updates of some special moments and occasions that happened while I've been here. So much has happened that I likely will forget something, so cut me some slack if these posts don't come in chronological order.
On my first night in Tirana, the capital city, we did not have some fabulous local dish. No. We had pizza. I'm coming from Italy, folks, and you can bet I was getting my fill of pizza, brioches, and coffee before leaving the land of where all of that actually tastes good. It was really good pizza though, so I suppose I was proven wrong rather quickly.
Then the next day I went around meeting lots of people and that's where all the fun starts happening. I suppose everything needs a little legwork.
Anyway, I met the pastor of my friend's (We'll call my friend 'Teddy') church, and we started looking into my leading worship at one or more of the services, since Teddy assured him that I was an anointed worship leader and he wouldn't regret it. In that same day we met some of the worship team and had some friendly musical sizing each other up time. At some point in all this, there was a meeting with the radio station to plan my sharing my testimony as a worship leader, and some songs, and then that evening we met with some of Teddy's family group where we talked about the awesomeness of God, randomly decided to plan an all night prayer and worship time for the evening of the day I had the radio interview early in the morning, and then we went out to the pyramid, which is a monument in center city. Once there, though freezing my butt off, we stayed and worshipped and interceded for the nation of Albania for a good half hour.
Then, I was brought back to my hostel where I most gratefully fell into sweet repose.
This more or less gives you can accurate picture of what my first week was like. I'll spare you and go into detail only on the highlights. So without further ado, I present to you the Happy Trails Blog Series, "The Land of Eagles: Highlight Reel". (Shortened to TLoEHR, in loving memory of the ridiculous acronyms in "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs).
Enjoy.
Sorry about that.
I am now homeward bound. I did decide, however, to make a quick pit-stop in Albania to visit a friend. My next few blog posts will be updates of some special moments and occasions that happened while I've been here. So much has happened that I likely will forget something, so cut me some slack if these posts don't come in chronological order.
On my first night in Tirana, the capital city, we did not have some fabulous local dish. No. We had pizza. I'm coming from Italy, folks, and you can bet I was getting my fill of pizza, brioches, and coffee before leaving the land of where all of that actually tastes good. It was really good pizza though, so I suppose I was proven wrong rather quickly.
Then the next day I went around meeting lots of people and that's where all the fun starts happening. I suppose everything needs a little legwork.
Anyway, I met the pastor of my friend's (We'll call my friend 'Teddy') church, and we started looking into my leading worship at one or more of the services, since Teddy assured him that I was an anointed worship leader and he wouldn't regret it. In that same day we met some of the worship team and had some friendly musical sizing each other up time. At some point in all this, there was a meeting with the radio station to plan my sharing my testimony as a worship leader, and some songs, and then that evening we met with some of Teddy's family group where we talked about the awesomeness of God, randomly decided to plan an all night prayer and worship time for the evening of the day I had the radio interview early in the morning, and then we went out to the pyramid, which is a monument in center city. Once there, though freezing my butt off, we stayed and worshipped and interceded for the nation of Albania for a good half hour.
Then, I was brought back to my hostel where I most gratefully fell into sweet repose.
This more or less gives you can accurate picture of what my first week was like. I'll spare you and go into detail only on the highlights. So without further ado, I present to you the Happy Trails Blog Series, "The Land of Eagles: Highlight Reel". (Shortened to TLoEHR, in loving memory of the ridiculous acronyms in "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs).
Enjoy.
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