More Liminality

the beginning of November 20, 2010 (this day lasts me 42 hours)

it's like the scene from Lost when they are on the return flight from sydney. the characters are deeply woven by their experiences and lives they built together in a beautiful land. yet the past is intangible. its like a dream- some far off reality. the only proof i have of the people i fell for and the land that i lived in is the ink on my foot. sometimes something will accidently rub against it- though it burns, it comes with a sense of relief. these past four months really happened. it was painful and lovely.

there are six more hours left in the flight. I'm not sure whether i'll kiss the ground or throw up because i'm so grossed out by the American excess,materialism, and facades. i dont want to be that bitter study abroad student that returns hating her country. guess i have a 6 hour flight to new york to pray about it.

22 hours later...

its like a bad break up. i'm only replaying all the good parts and then i become sad and to cope i become bitter and replay all the bad parts. songs come on that i listened to on trains/buses or walked home to and i skip over them. i thumb through pictures and stop because i feel sick.

i didn't know itd be like this.

i also didn't know that when people asked me questions about AUS i'd word vomit a gazzillion stories. and then i realize that they really dont care at all, they were just being polite by asking. and then i get frustrated because it feels im somehow cheapening my experience by trying to relay the best 4 months of my life in a few sentances or stories. i'd rather just not say anything at all. i want to remember them how they were lived not how i eventually dumb it down for people's short attention spans.

my fear is that this will never go away. i feel like it could only get better if i forget everything i learned and experienced in the past 4 months.

i want to build a wall to dam this past semester. jump over it and continue with life.

but i cant. because it changed who i am, how i respond to others and the way i see the world. i cant discard that.

What do we do with this

as a small backup reminder of the freedom God has to offer when you take risks, i decided to ink it on my foot. its part of a bigger picture , later there will be a tree ( get it? roots, wings)

also the other picture is of me passed out- kaylee nursed me back to health while my tattoo artist decided it was a good opportunity to take a cigarette break . "Let mes knows when she come around , mate" was his response.

if anyone has spent an ample time in the church you have probably heard the message a few times. it usually begins with a personal testimony of how that person was trying to find their identity in the world's offerings but was discontent so they tried out God. they soon realized that their identity was in Christ. We are children of God and should find our value in Him. and then what? do we live happily ever after because we found ourselves? not really.

oddly enough I had this realization during a discussion of Australian foreign policy and their relationship with the US. Maybe i was thinking about how blessed we are as a nation because of that, we should be conducting ourselves a little differently than the rest of the world. in my disgust with America's figures spent on the war and our unnecessary demand for Lexuses, botox, and heated toilet seats- there was a sick feeling that creeped in.

I am hardly walking around as if the most high God , the Creator of the universe, came down to earth and was nailed to a cross to be with me. HOLY SHIT . HOW DO WE LOSE SIGHT OF THAT?

I am so blessed! I have an abled body and mind and a family that loves me. it is my responsibility to use that in furthering the kingdom.

So theres more to this identity issue. we're children of God - our worth comes from Christ but what do we do with that? how should we then live differently because we have accepted God's gift of life with Him.

someone wise said we cant do everything- but we must do something.

so i made a few lifestyle commitments.

1. luxury tax: if i purchase clothing , shoes, purses, jewelry. i will give half the amount to some type of relief fund. ( world vision, Restore NYC) I have already made the choice to not buy clothes for a year (started May 12) which was tough but good in Sydney. I had to buy a few jackets/scarfs/dancewear because i was not planning on the weather but i left most of them there and charged myself 100%. Eventually i would love to be able to do 100% tax for everything instead of 50 but hey- i gots to start small.

2. stop using plastic bags. this is quite a choice for me because before coming to Aus i refused to believe that bringing your own bag would do a thing, i never believed in recycling nor thought much about if the planet fell apart in a few 100 years. But as christians we have a responsibility!

3.memorize scripture. its the word of God- it should be written on our hearts! a verse a week. come on, people memorize the whole Koran. this is not difficult

4. only purchase fairtrade coffee and chocolate. not going to lie- this has been difficult. but it makes you aware of corporations who are and aren't ethically sound. there are children working overtime with cocoa beans who have never tasted chocolate in their lives!

by publishing these i am asking you to keep my accountable. What are maybe some things you want to change about the way you live? start small! consistency speaks volumes. let's do life together.

Tomato Sauce

to catch you up.

November 14, 2010

you are behind on the times of tiff.let's fix this. ive literally had no time to recap recent events nor the internet connection to relay any of them to you.

lets skim the surface of things

1. i went to get a tattoo and the artist sucked at drawing what i wanted/was a jackass/wanted way too much for it. so i walked out of the parlor... no tatt

2. im taking the spring semester off to intern for Redeem the Shadows and tour with them in the month of march from Miami to New York. we are visiting different schools/churches raising awareness for human trafficking.

3. last sunday was the Hillsong Live recording. it blew my mind- the energy of God's people. unreal. it made me stoked for heaven . it also made me want to move to NYC asap and get involved with their new campus in the city.

4. im currently on a train sitting with an obscure bunch. some in suits returning from a long day of flourescent lighting. some construction workers with dirt on their face. a girl who still has last nights dress on. and some teenagers who dont know what to do with this world. public transportation puts everyone on the same playing field. i love that

5. a week from today i'll be flying from New Zealand, to Los Angeles to New York City. and spending a few days there with my brother, whom i miss incredibly. if you are not aware, Travis is one of the best men that is currently walking the planet and i can't wait to bring in my 21st with him

6. i'm scared about returning. i'm different and i dont know that all of it is in a good way. and im not sure how people are going to receive that.

7. two nights ago a group of americans and aussies went to Maroubra beach after the dance performance. we built a fire on the edge of a cliff and ate pizza in a cave. at least 100 feet below were gargantuan waves crashing on rocks like armagedden. i dont know if it was the spontanaity in which this night unraveled , the songs we sang under the stars or the indescribable view. but it might have been my favorite night in sydney.

Roots, Wings, Roots...

roots, wings, roots

...and the more mobile we become the less sense we have of being sensually enmashed with our world and interdependant with/ responsible for others- Robyn Davidson

i dont think that anything is a coincidence. Robert Ferguson said that if we believe in God's divine plan for our lives-that he has his hand on everything- than coincidences are simply glimpses of His hand on our life. I think God places people and opportunities in our paths at exactly the right moment in time and we don't always see why things are happening in that particular order or why this person was placed then, until we end up somewhere we never thought we would and see in retrospect how God got you there.

All this to say; i dont think it was a coincidence i ran into kaylee one day and heard she was going to study abroad at the school i was looking to attend for dance therapy. or that i randomly decided to join a flash mob performance at the opera house- little did i know at the time i was dancing beside the artistic director of a company i would later audition for. a few days ago i was getting anxious about this decision (i had underestimated your laziness on commenting.) that night i was assigned an article for a class about how America is raising up generations who are leaving and not coming back. college students are studying abroad, learning how to make the world a better place and not returning to practice in their own country. Even if we do stay in the states our idea of success is to have a house in LA, New York, and a vacation home in the keys. Higher education is producing career orientated people rather than people with an intimate knowledge of place. If we feel we are in an area temporarily we become tourists in our own town. we fail to grow roots, build community , and become ecologically illiterate. "sticking to your roots" has never been an idea that appealed to me, hence i went to college in florida and well now im in australia. i looked down on the people that never left home and thought they were quite "uncultured" . which could probably be true of those who have never left Irmo, SC. however! i see why this is a problem in the US. we have this idea in our heads that the more we move, and states we get to live in the better. but

the more you bounce around, the shallower your impact.

im not saying that if i chose to live in australia, i would be another victim to this mobility bug and not have an influence.

im saying that i think my roots are not full grown in West Palm. There is a community there that i intend on investing in until its done with me.

what i did not mention were the things falling into place for me back home. i dont think it was a coincidence that shortly before i left for australia i met a guy who started his own non profit for human trafficking. or that in the same week that i was accepted into Streaming Dance Theatre, i was offered an internship with Redeeming Shadows ( his non prof) and found a lovely place to live. it was not a coincidence that younglife girls that i hadn't heard from in a long while randomly messaged me to say they want to go to camp this summer and if we could hang out when i returned. Unless Justin bribed them.

call me crazy. you can even say i'm dumb for passing this opportunity up. trav you can kick my ass later. but I think that God put that article in front of me that night for a reason. one of my early blog entries is entitled roots and wings. it was about living in that liminal stage of life, and balancing out where you came from and where you could potentially go. it was about not forgetting what God redeemed you from while still living in the freedom of Christ.

what i didnt realize was that it was cyclical. roots. wings. roots. wings.

i also didnt realize what it would take to fly. ( so effing cheesy, its part of the metaphor just roll with it) Anyway God stripped me of so much upon coming here which sucked tail. now i can see it was just weighing down the flight. but dude. a birds gotta come back down to eat.

so needless to say, i'm coming home.

i would like to add that i really did underestimate the feedback on this subject and really do appreciate the support of those who encouraged me to stay here. i was just as reluctant to post this as the other, again out of cowardice. i felt i was letting some of you down. i have this huge fear of regret but it was subsided when i talked to Francois ( the producer) this week about my dilemma. he said he faced the same thing while touring london, people were giving him offers left and right but decided to stick with the company he originally came with. he told me that if i go ill be missed - and to know that i will always be welcomed back into the company ( with an audition of course) if i so choose. He encouraged me to still come to rehearsals until i leave so i can become more familiar with the dynamics of the company to see if this is something i would want. he said the only reason he is able to tell me this is bc he was my teacher first. I really am blessed to have that, most company owners are not nearly as gracious.

soo maybe when my roots are good and deep in the 561 i'll want to come to australia and be a professional dancer. who knows, what i do know is that if you plan, God laughs.

Frederick Buechner said that vocation is a place where your deepest gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.

is this true of your life?

No Dog, No Son, not even a hamster

i have been reluctant to tell anyone this so i'll write about it instead. it's cowardice of me really because i'm just scared of the advice you might give me. most of you are too lazy to register to leave a comment so this is my safe way of releasing the news.

Last week Francois, my favorite choreographer at Wesley, pulled me into the hallway after class. He handed me a sheet of paper and asked me to audition for his company (Streaming Dance Theatre) on saturday.

now let me just tell you a blurp about this man. I have put together from his here and there comments about his career that he is the real deal, famous in the dance world if you will. He was the choreographer/dance captain for Broadway's Lion King!, he was touring london as a dancer at age 15, was in cirque du soleil, has worked on productions for Warner bros, and Fox and is currently shooting a TV pilot that he produced himself. He is nearing 40's dances like a 20 year old and if he asked me out id probably say yes. sooo honored and shocked I happily told him i would be there without really thinking about it. I never considered dancing professionally because in America the competition is rediculous- also it's not why I think God gave me this gift. But as a dancer- you dont turn down an audition.

i also never considered staying in Sydney ... until now.

i went into the audition thinking it would just be a good experience and if nothing else it would be 4 more hours that i get to dance.It was a great first audition because i knew the producer, Francois, and i also knew Graham the artistic director because he performed with me at the Opera House. I looked around at the nervous faces and the fear they had whenever Graham or Francois gave them corrections. It was so nice to have known them beforehand. Anyway, i left feeling pretty good about how i danced but more so just to get my first audition for a company under my belt was satisfying.

this tuesday, Francois informed me that I was accepted into the company. i smiled and acted completely ecstatic when he told me the rehearsal schedule, when our tour would start, and contract details of pay.

and then i went home and cried. this could change everything.

every disney movie and pop song , even Eminem will tell you that you have one shot, and to "chase your dream"

it just does not make sense for me to turn down a position in a company to return to school... for dance.

i decided to tell my sister and her reaction was "Tiff! you dont have a dog, you dont have a son, you dont even have a hamster, but you do have a dream! so go for it"

but is it my dream? or is it the world's dream for me?

what if this dream cost me relationships, family, identity?

my worst fear of this trip actaully came true- i told Nick before i left that i was scared i was going return wanting to be or do something completely different, like be a teacher. well im not going into education- but this is totally rockin my plan for the future.

i boarded the plane in LAX so certain of who i was, who i wanted to become, and how to get there.

the only thing i am certain of now is that girl was naive. and i still have so much to learn.

i cant even tell you what country i will be living in come april.

but with uncertainty comes trust. it grows our faith and illuminates the things we can be certain of. I know that like a potter- the father never takes his hands off me, that this is all going according to a plan i cant see, and whether i live here or there - If i remain in Him - He will be glorified.

Broken Cisterns

yep, that's a polaris coming down the steps.
This is Caroline, she ALWAYS had her hood up- such a G
This is Becky above and Below. If we were walking , she was on my back, if we were sitting she was on my lap. Her Dad left on her first birthday, she asked one of the leaders if he could be her Daddy.

Kids belaying Kids. you would never see this in American camps because we have so many liability issues. o wait and because its DANGEROUS.

I signed up for a class offered to my program called "Adventure Based Camping" for a few reasons; I needed more credits, I like camping, i knew it would be a good to get away for a bit. I scanned the syllabus before paying the 200$ fee and it mentioned learning how to lead a group of youth in the wilderness and use it for ministry purposes. I somehow got the impression ( maybe it was in the title, or the fee) that I would be learning how to pitch a tent on the side of the mountain- or how to build a fire with a toothbrush, maybe even what plants you can eat when you run out of food.

o how I was misinformed . I learned quickly through a leaders meeting i was going to be a camp counselor for primary aged kids who are "disadvantaged" . I thought ok sweet, I've done this- its not what i thought but at least I feel comfortable in this position- i thought YoungLife! but younger.

i arrived at Vision Valley which is roughly 2 hours up mountain terrain, late on Tuesday night. The campers were to arrive the next morning, i expected to have some type of leader meeting about what the camp schedule would like- or how many campers we were going to have. we started to discuss these major details as kids arrived... and as they did i was put in charge of registration. WHATTTT? I didn't know anything about that week, the activities they were doing, or anything about Vision Valley itself. I tried to act like it was not a big deal. I was given medical forms, instructions from parents on how to distribute meds, money for their “camp bank” whatever that was, and forms from their social workers on their home lives. this job was for someone else. Registration went fine, nobody died.

I saw a little tyke named Rhys clutching his rag doll , tears streaming, and he constantly repeated " i want to go home" . his mom was arguing with the dad saying if he didnt stay at the camp he'd never learn to be on his own. the dad argued that he cant leave his son screaming crying in an unfamiliar atmosphere. both, i thought, had valid points. Registration had died down so i pulled his form and saw that he had autism. I had him sit down next to me and i started to go through the schedule ( i hadnt even looked at it yet) to convince him he was going to have a good time. he quieted and became content just chewing on his ragdoll. his parents continued to argue while Rhys sat close to me. I became overwhelmed at his situation. seeing it from all sides- from a parents perspective, from his. i miss working with kids with disabilities. There’s this authenticity in their emotions that’s refreshing.

i had a bright outlook about working with primary kids...until about 20 minutes into it. The boys in my group were screaming hurtful things to the special needs campers below the balcony. I mean things you see bullies in movies say - but you tell yourself "oh no child is that mean" . well they are- and they were all in my group.

we ran out of time this morning to read their paperwork sent from social services. the ones i did get to see had ADHD, some domestic abuse, extreme esteem issues, anxiety, and more Autism. still no paperwork could have prepared me for the behavior i witnessed in the next 3 days. Here are a few instances

A boy named Hayden decided he didnt like me from the getgo. My rule of thumb is to kill it with kindness. He told me he wanted to see me climb so he could watch me fall. he also informed me he wanted to kill me... several times. I just smiled.

a precious boy, Nathan, came to me crying his eyes out saying Hayden was calling him names. ( i wont say what he called him)

i walked out of my room and there was a crowd of kids in the lobby, a boy pushed down another, SPAT IN HIS FACE, a said "fuck you mother fucker" I said- in my firmest tone, " Excuse me, you do not use that language! "

He turned around and said FUCK YOU BITCH. and flicked me off.

that would be the third time i was called a bitch that day by a boy waist high.

these situations were happening all day. it would be impossible to carry out the "fun activities" because they would not listen. if you told them to walk right, theyd go left. i have never seen such deliberate disobedience in my life. asking nicely didnt work, screaming didnt work. taking away privileges.. kinda did. if you were lucky.

We were watching a movie and a boy , actually the worst behaved, was named Cougar- sat next to me. He had a rat tail and cute/scary smile. He liked me for some reason, and offered me candy his mom gave him. I wanted to take it but he would be the kid that put it up his nose or down his pants then offered it. These are the kids we were dealing with.

It did not help that the camp was in a transition period and was completely understaffed. I was often left with 20 kids in my hands and not aware of what was going on because the schedule had changed, and the two directors were off dealing with behavior issues. there were times kids were fighting, and girls were crying and i wanted to cry to because I'd look around and realize there were no leaders in sight.

I woke up in the middle of the second night to boys screaming in the hallway "fuck you I hate you" and "fuck you dumb fat C***" yeh i cant even type it without cringing. I learned that word like 3 years ago. these kids were 8.

there is something wrong here.

on the flipside. i had wonderful little girls. they obeyed most of the time and got to experience great adventures and activities that they have never tried. they were allowed to be goofy, and have fun, and didnt have to worry about mom/dad hitting them or coming home drunk. They were a blessing and i hated letting them go, especially back to their broken homes. AND mister Hayden who wanted me dead was saving me a seat by the end of the week. His transformation was a miracle.

here are my bones with this camp. I , as a volunteer leader who knew nothing about Vision Valley, should not have been responsible for anything administrative such as registration, check, out or programming. which i was. I had to plan out an hour and half of messy games, designate leaders , make a supply list and was given 20 minutes to set it up. YoungLife camps function in a way where you show up to the activity and everything is already set up SO THAT you can just be with your campers. I now see why- i was so stressed about the programming of these activites that i wasnt caring enough about the kids.

Heres the thing- I have worked at many summer camps, with high schoolers, middle schoolers, kids with disabilities, as well as being on the "staff" side of things. and I felt unprepared/ untrained to deal with this group of kids. I can not imagine how my two co leaders felt

1. neither has BEEN TO A CAMP

2.neither has worked with youth at all.

for the sake of these kids- they deserve better. they need trained social workers, people who are familiar with Vision Valley, ALSO, people who are familiar with Australian culture enough to relate. these kids would use terms i had never heard - which can take away your credibility in a kids eyes- especially these.

another bone : i was told this in confidence and now im publishing it on my blog. but herego- Wesley Mission who runs/funds both Vision Valley and once my school Wesley - are in the hole financially. when i told my supervisor i paid 200 for this camp his response was "to who?" he said it should have cost 80.

it seemed on every level this camp had holes. in the funding, the leadership, the programming , the activities ( kids belayed kids).

But God uses broken cisterns.

there are holes in the Body. there are holes in churches- funding is shiesty, leadership is not up to par, the people attending are heathens. Somehow, because He is a God of Love and Compassion- and a potter; he picks up the broken pieces and forms it into something beautiful, something useful for his kingdom. I was inadequate to handle the things given to me, the camp was understaffed, the kids were ...demons. but by the end of the week we were all different. the kids had a hope, they caught a glimpse of a life they were meant to live. and as leaders- well i can only speak for myself when i say that i cant remember the last time i prayed harder. those 3 very long days opened my eyes to a very broken world. it made me want to do something about the next generations' desperation for wholeness.

the outback not the steakhouse trip

ROOs! I still want a pet joey
This is Wayne the Roo killer. He only hunts at night, makes his own ammunition and skinned this here roo in front of us. I found this all quite attractive until he made a forward pass to hook up in the shearing shed. yep. the shearing shed.

there was a mud pit we frolicked in during free time.

The Outback was everything Crocodile Dundee made it out to be; flat, dusty, and filled with roos. but i didn't expect it be as beautiful as it was. There is something about a vast landscape that is both freeing and overwhelming. The bush is a place that doesn't offer comfort or prosperity, it demands respect. I never thought about how much a terrain can affect the way its inhabitants view life until i met the people who live off it. In America, we know that if we put a kernel in the heartland, we'll have corn. In the bush, its a toss up. they might have rain they might not. the soil might be good that year but most likely not. We expect to see fruits of labor; they are just trying to survive that year. Bogans (aussies that live in the bush) have incredible work ethic and are very practical people. It was refreshing to be around people who worked with their hands, I was getting over city slickas.

One afternoon we went to what seemed like the most desert like area. There was a sand hill kind of out of place where the bus dropped us off. the slight elevation gave us a sick view of ...more flat land. We were told to write a letter to yourself and that we'd receive it when we returned to the states. I think it was supposed to remind us of everything we had learned and wanted to take back with us. I ended up writing to my 45 year old self. I had a feeling I wouldn't need to be reminded to chase what I love shortly after returning, but maybe i would need that reminder more when/if im a mom or too wrapped up in my career to remember what it was like to fly myself to another continent. maybe ill post that.

Cairns, concussions, coral, and crawlers.

The night before we were booked to dive the Great Barrier Reef felt like Christmas Eve. we had giggly excited pillow talk and couldn't sleep. and it was more than we could have asked for. Somehow i felt more comfortable breathing 50 feet underwater than strolling through the city streets of Sydney. the colors, the sounds, the fish , the incredible intricacies of God's creation that most people never get to see... ah there aren't words- the pictures dont even do it justice. i had to make myself stop smiling so my BC wouldnt fall out.

The crew was great, and ended up meeting us out that night for drinks to celebrate Kelly's 21st. we did a pub crawl to 4 different pubs on the strip and had a very very good time.

the next day we woke again at 7 to go to the rainforest! we went to several different waterfalls and lagoons to swim in and had a picnic barbeque. my personal favorite was Milla Milla falls where they shot an Herbal Essences commercial. it was needless to say surreal because places dont exist like that except well on TV.

we went to a sliding rock, very similar to the one in NC just more exotic- and well more slippery. so much so that in my eagerness to get to the top- i slipped , fell backwards and hit my head on the edge of a rock. it sounds worse than it was- and i think i should have been knocked out because it happened so fast i didnt catch myself with my hands. i honestly dont remember much of the next 2 hours after that but i just know that i felt very ... elated. it was like i was on painkillers. i think i hit the part of my brain that releases endorphines because i felt oddly... great. in a daze- slightly dizzy- but good. my friends were incredibly worried but i wasn't. i continued to slide down the white water, get caught in rapids and swim around. then i laid on a rock and wanted a nap but bc im with great people they didnt let me. it was a pretty awesome concussion if there ever was one.

we also visited this tree that i swear was the inspiration for Avatar.

we spent the last day at Trinity beach to relax before our flight. i saw stoned steps on the side of the mountain beside us and decided to take it upon myself to explore this possibility- and am very glad i did. i climbed barefoot up black rocks , and landed a breathtaking view. it was like being Ariel and Pocahontas, all in one week. i spent some time with the Lord, chatting about how crazy he is. and baked on a rock on a cliff. and once again, bc my friends are great they came looking for me and were very glad they did. we spent at least an hour there getting sweet pics, taking in the view, and sitting in silence.

when we returned to the beach i noticed a man throwing something at the birds nearby, i thought "what a mean person " and probably scowled a little. while standing at the edge of the water i noticed him army crawling to the sand. he was pretty burly and built so i thought this a workout then i followed his sand streaked trail up the shore and saw a wheel chair. In his desperation to be free, he got out of his chair, and CRAWLED to the ocean. once in, he was hooting and hollering and having a good time. and i just stood there. the water barely whisping my feet. i didnt want to be salty for the plane ride. glancing at the fun he was having- i thought, why the bloody hell am i standing at the edge when there is a beautiful ocean that i could be swimming in. He crawled to the shore, and I just stood there. I said screw it, and joined him.

i wanted to tell him that he was inspiring. that he made me realize i sometimes stand at the edge of places people are crawling to get to.

Maybe thats how we sometimes approach God. We don't realize our need for him, or the freedom he has to offer when we rely to heavily on our own capabilities. we stand at the water's edge of his power because we don't want to get messy. we don't want to risk maybe getting carried away, losing control of ourselves. but there are people on their hands and knees desperate to taste His freedom, His power, His grace, His love.

When I was 16 I remember my youth leader telling me, our strength is only a hindrance. that stuck with me because it was counterculture and couldn't grasp it with my sheltered hands. now I can.

I forget that the power of the resurrection lives in me. i dont tap into it, nor share it nearly enough. i just stand there.

The Asylum

this is the outside lobby. if you wanted to use the internet- you had to purchase a tshirt and join the mad monday pub crawl-as well as wear it while at the PC

our crew, with Tom from da Nederlands

I can't begin to tell you how many times I put my hands on my face and asked "where the bloody hell are we?" or, is "is this real life?" whether it was looking at a surreal landscape or laughing at our living situation. A group of 12 of us flew out saturday night to Cairns ( pronounced Cans) which is north up the coast of Sydney- about a 3 hour plane ride. we arrived around midnight and waited for our shuttle to the hostel. A white van whipped around the curb covered in pictures of people getting drunk in white tee's. it was called The ASYLUM. and underneath the graffiti it said #1 party Hostel in Cairns. this was a "is this real life" moment. the driver hopped out in a ripped singlet and a sleeve tatt of colored cheetah print. he croaked in a very strong aussie accent " Which wannyas coming with me? His name was Dan and blasted Train so loud on the way to the hostel it impaired my vision. It was 15$ a night so really, what was i expecting? the town looked pretty bare for a sat. night then we pulled up to a shack connected to cylinder block buildings covered in christmas lights and a large group of people outside, the Asylum. most of everyone was pretty intoxicated at this point so we received a very warm Aussie welcome. they gave us thin sheets with suspicious stains and corn flakes for brekkie. the receptionist was pretty drunk when we got there, her name was Crackers and ended up being one of my favorite people that worked there. i was very grateful to be staying with the boys at this point, it was 6 to a room so sam and i stayed with Jordan, Jon, Lee, and Ethan.

We were all pretty hungry at this point and wanted to grab something grilled at a chill pub. we thought we found one. but upon walking in, we found it was anything but chill. there were people sucking face as you walked in, burly men cheering at the dancers on the bar and then you ran into people moshing to a Rage Against the Machine cover. insanity. this was a "where the bloody Hell are we? " moment. for someone who doesnt go out much, this scene was pretty educational. at this point in my night, im laughing- thinking holy crap this week is going to be incredibly memorable.

foreign policies, cupcakes, and death

my house kicked off the weekend early on thursday night by throwing a birthday party for our roommate Samantha. At last, our group consisted of more aussies than americans which made our dynamic interesting. turns out they also do the same ole christian college activities...played games and had friendly competitions. i won a plank contest which contributed to my lack of guilt as a downed 2 slices of Pavlova. best cake i have ever tasted. Have i mentioned there are 3 chefs in the family i live with? almost every dish i eat ive never heard of. its great. anyway we played dares, which resulted in people licking legs, smelling armpits and eating soap. eventually it became a dance party. they parted exhausted and happy.

we woke at 5 am the next day to go to Canberra, the nation's capital- conveniently on election day. it was an incredibly full two days. . . a field trip to the museum on cocaine.

we visited the embassy of New Zealand, Indonesia, and the God-Blessed- AMERICA. each consisted of a speaker informing us about how their foreign policy affected their relationship with Australia, followed by us asking researched questions.

all the embassies (near 100) are within a block of each other. some share buildings even though its that partticular nation's soil. as soon as i walk into the Indonesian embassy, im under their law. driving around was like being in Epcot, minus the fun.

the US embassy was a bit different than the others.

1) it sat on top of the hill looking down on all the others... hmmm... gated by a white iron fence. it looked like a country club in the middle of a middle class neighborhood.

2) it was the only one that required a 2 part security system where they confiscated our drivers licenses.

3) they did not treat us as guest but as though we were a burden to be dealt with . in the others- we were sung to, greeted by a panel, and fed incredibly scrumptious Hors d'ouvres.

4) the US officers gave us vague answers to very specific questions as well as sugar coat america's foreign policy.the other countries admitted to the areas they needed improvement

the funny/sad part was that we didnt care. it was blatantly obvious how jacked up certain things were about how America views the world and why other countries looked at us as ignorant, oblivious , pompous people. ... but we found ourselves wanting to kiss the ground we walked on because it was America's . i wanted to stay in the shabby carpeted room herded us in in because it had central heating and the speaker had my accent. he was deceiving and charming, suave, and well dressed. and i fell for it.

i should have been grossed out by the front that America puts on. but i wanted to hug the pearly white colonial columns because it was like i was home.

we spent that night in a hostel in the city, it was actaully pretty nice. very dorm-like, with a bunch of handmade posters and young receptionist- felt like i was in ODP.

the next day we hit up the Portrait Gallery which sounds boring but turned out to be quite interesting. there is only 4 in the world. We ventured onto the National Museum, then the Art Museum. I Could have spent all day there, with no one else- just me and Radiohead in my ears. I saw original Monets, Andy WARHOLS and freaking JACKSON POLLOCK. i thought about how much annabelle and trav would have loved it and how much i missed them.

The War Memorial we went to after is apparently ranked in the top 5 in the world, i found it quite depressing . maybe if it wasnt a guided tour with a man that couldnt speak above a whisper , and had i not been standing/walking for 6 hours prior i would have enjoyed it. or maybe if Maura was there to tell me why this war happened , or my Dad to point out which planes Pop Pop flew- I could of at least payed attention.

we read countless stories of tortured POW's and thousands of people dyeing in one day.

im hesitant to write this next part because you might think of me differently afterward. but im not there to see your reaction and by the time i return youll have forgotten this. also if you've read this far into this entry you have to love me on some sort of level.

death makes me cold. i shut down emotion. you can sit there and tell me that 30, 000 men fell at the battle of Gallopoli and i wont feel a thing. maybe its the numbers i cant grasp , or death in itself. but i didnt cry at my grandfathers funeral- i tried, i did. i didnt want people to think i didnt feel.

but if i watch a baby dedication , the tears wont stop.

this is backwards- one more of my parodoxes.

maybe because when you're dead, you can stop trying. you're home.

but when a baby is just born. they have no idea what trials, suffering and pain await. how terrifying.

this is pretty skewed i realize - most people rejoice and say o they have their entire life ahead of them, which is great - if its great.

on an entirely different note. today was glorious. the sun woke me up and i sauntered down to Majors Bay which is a stream of shops and bakeries by a rugby field filled with child rec games and burly men practicing. i listened to two great Matt Chandler sermons which was much needed spiritual rejuvenation. I hung my clothes on a line then starting baking sweets with Neil, our host dad. we made pineapple curd pie, 3 batches of cupcakes, and Spinach nyko . all from scratch. we even used iron scales for measuring rather than cups. it was delightful

this entry is entirely too long, im trying to compensate for not responding to 6 facebook messages nor calling my mom for a week or so

roots and wings

We've been discussing the idea of mobility, stability, and what defines us by the borders we were born into. We also talked about the beauty and horrors of being in the liminal stage of life. a good percentage of the people reading this are in it. its that straddling the border of home and where you'll end up. it's a " well im not from here but i'm not sure how long i'm staying"

its a non permanent feeling.

there is something comforting in the the truth that this is temporary. this semester. this life on earth. it also causes me to evaluate how im spending my time. Im only in Australia for four months which is not a long duration in terms of a lifespan. .. I'm only on this earth for maybe 80 years- a blip on the scale of eternity.

what do we do with this brief period?

honestly? it kind of makes me want to go crazy, to make mistakes, to take risks, to love fully and get hurt because of it. to wander purposefully and by chance get lost.

But also to not hold onto anything too firmly. these days and possessions are fleeting. so we open our hands and let God give and take away. and we open ourselves to let people in and out and trust that God restores.

I once heard that you can't have roots and wings. at the time i thought this was true- that you were either a homebody or a nomad.still or moving. grounded or carefree

im not sure that it's really that black and white. i think there is a time in your life for each. we just have to open ourselves to which ever season God is calling us to. change rarely comes at a convenient time or on our own terms.

thoughts on a bus ride

this is a bit scattered, bear with me

Eric Leed writes," For the ancients the journey had value in that it explained human fate and necessity, while the moderns extolled it as a manifestation of freedom and as an escape from necessity and purposiveness."

It's funny how we never want to be the tourist. When we visit new places we take the map out in dark places and when we catch ourselves looking around like we've never seen the eiffel tower before we quickly lower our eyes and roll them at the person with a point and shoot and high white socks.

People use to journey in search of answers to the human life, this is a pilgrimage. now we travel and vacate to escape our reality, for the most part. we arrive to a foreign land and want to know what that place can do for us. its selfish, and pretty American. and we sit on white beaches and drink Sangria and wish it was our reality.

one of the defining characteristics of our postmodern culture is the search for something authentic. something , exposed, something real. its as if we've looked at the history books and decided there was too much bullshit in the world.we wanted something different. you can see it in fashion (Madonna's lace get up) ,architiecture ( modern buildings leaving the exposed brick) , and our obsession with "reality" TV. it affects every area of our life. we want the behind the scenes version of everything. but i dont think this is just a postmodernist goal. i think this is a timeless effort. we're all searching for a truth of some sort.

William T. Cavanaugh said that a pilgrmage was a kenotic movement, a stripping away of the external sources of stability in one's life.

never thought of myself as a pilgrim, i like to wear jeans and dance but if that is what defines a pilgrimage, then thats sure as hell what this journey has been for me. im ok with that.

...and then i will speak tenderly to her

I woke up on saturday excited to see the sun out again, so i did a little facebooking with coffee outside. pictures were up of the wedding i was supposed to be at. I was so happy to see my long time friend smiling beautifully in her dress with others that i had grown up with but it also sucked miserably. i wanted to share that with her, with them.

and then i saw my dance teacher's status about Michael McCray passing away. its one of those things you dont believe until you hear it or see it at least 5 times. i cried on my porch for who knows how long on a perfectly beautiful Sydney day. part of me wanted to book a flight home, part of me was relieved i couldn't feel the weight of it all. i take comfort in that he is finally in a place where sickness does not hinder his dancing. i am so blessed to have known him and to have been a part of his choreography. he always helped me put things in perspective and probably was one of the most honest people i knew.

im continents away. missing out on both the beautiful and horrible parts of life. which reminded me of the book of Hosea. God uses it as a metaphor for Isreal's unfaithfulness. He strips her of everything she placed value in, everything she took comfort in. and brings her to a place where she has nothing ... but the one who remains faithful.

Therefore I am now going to allure her;

I will lead her into the desert

and speak tenderly to her. - Hosea 2

maybe this is my desert.

city nights and simple days

when i was about 6 i wrote down my goals in life. they were something along the lines of 1.get rich 2. get a husband 3. go to new york. for some reason i've seen myself as someone made for city life. there was something incredibly appealing about a fast paced, career driven, i need a double soy latte right now lifestyle. I can't really say that is where i stand now. Last night we went into the city to go dancing and check out the bars that we've been eyeing on the harbour since arrival. It was fun for about 15 minutes. and mostly because we were let into the VIP section of Cargo which is a beautiful club/lounge on the water. cocktails were SEVENTEEN DOLLARS. and most of these places are just full of people wanting to hook up. even though the men were suited and polished and the girls looked like runway models. we're all pretty savage in our desires, no matter how put together we can appear. I won't say i did not have a good time though, Sydney is beautiful at night. We ventured to the Rocks to check out the pubs and it was like going from NYC to Ireland. very different, but very fun.

the trains and buses stop running after midnight so we caught a "night rider/drunk bus" home at 3 am. it was raining at this point, we walked home in blisters , wet hair, and empty pockets.

This morning I woke too early to go to Hillsong Church for my service placement. yes its the church where 90% of fabulous worship songs are written. i was picked up by a guy from Jupiter , Florida. I met two people from South Carolina. most of the people i have met there are american. its weird. but it was refreshing to say the least. I've had two experiences with this church so far, a young adult service and a serving opportunity. and i can already see that this community is full of people who are hungry for God, there is a "im not perfect, you're not perfect, let's get to know the one who is together" tone to their spirit.

As part of the Hillsong Street Team, we visit people in the neighborhood who live in government housing and do whatever they wish, whether its to clean their windows or just sit and have tea with them. this morning I sat with a Russian man named Joseph. He was well into his seventies and spoke very little english. His flat had an eclectic collection from his life which distracted you from the dirt and grime. but he served us tea in the finest china. he told stories of his dead wife and children, how he swam in ice to heal his back, and what it was like to live under the Soviet union. he fed us cake and the best dark chocolate i've ever tasted.

God may have come up once. but we weren't there to evangelize, or to tell him about the fabulous church in walking distance of his door. we just wanted to be with him so we did. We also visited Betty and listened to her talk about Farmville for a 1/2 hour- we vacuumed too.

i came home and did laundry because the sun was out. they dont use dryers here because well, they dont need them. do we?

i hung my clothes on the line and as the wind blew through my hair and white dress i wondered why the hell dont we do this. and how similar my life was to a downy commercial. then i napped in a hammock under the shade of a Sycamore.

i decided that i love the city, as long as i can come home and hang my clothes on a line in a big yard and nap under a tree

Observances

on an aboriginal boat.
just odd.

customs house. love this place

i noticed that the past couple entries have been journalish, which is not what i intended for this blog ( still hate that word) its worse than saying facebook or twitter in a conversation

so here are just a few observances i've made of the land down under

1.its like america... just upside down. the constellations, the seasons, south is colder, even the drains go in the opposite direction

2.there are a lot of asians. ( this is an observance , not a complaint)

3. They really are laissez faire. about everything. punctuality does not exist. buses sometimes just dont come or about 15 minutes late. this is so fun especially when its cold and rainy outside. the government made it a law that everyone HAS TO VOTE. or else no one would. this aspect of the culture is fun too because socially- we play everything by ear. they don't really make plans more than an hr or two in advance. in fact everyone is so chill about everything i wonder if they're token it up without me

4. i can wear whatever the hell i want. and anyone who knows me knows that i usually do wear what i feel but this is even better. even poor folk look jazzy. its awesome.

5. doorknobs are either at knee or eye level . its like this country was run by giants and midgets before.

6. buildings/houses don't have internal heat. im sitting in my house in leg warmers, fuzzy boots, tights, and two hoodies. im also a little doozy from gas fumes because there's a little gas heater we use at night and I couldn't get it to ignite so its just spewed for a little bit.

7. so many men in scarfs, skinnies, and SCRUFF. i'm so pleased

8. i ordered a long black at a cafe ( was told that was coffee) and bc it was the cheapest on the menu. nope, it was a shot of espresso that cost $3.00 wahhuutt? their coffee,lattes,cappuccinos are all at least 3 bucks. a shot is 50 cents at STARBUCKS

9. O did i mention that minimum wage is 16$. yeh . shampoo and conditioner : 30 effing dollars.

10.theres no FCC. i see boobs on commercials and so much more uneccessary nudity way too often.

11. if you see a store that says CHEMIST HERE, its not a meth lab- thats what they call pharmacies.

12. with all that said. this place is delightful, the city at night is magical. the harbour - like a strand of christmas lights. and the people are as kind as ever.