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.

Awake my soul, for you were made to meet your maker. . .

-Mumford and Sons. To be a a dancer, you have to be slightly masochistic. there is something about doing releve's on pointe till your nails bleed that is... exhilarating? your heart is pounding from doing 32 changement's, your calves are splitting and you want more. and then you sit in splits till circulation goes a little wiry for the sake .. of a pretty line. it is amazing, almost insane the extent to which we go for something beautiful. the same as for any art really. ive watched photographers go to stupid amounts of trouble to get one shot. or singers who dont talk for days to save their pipes for one note they have to hit in a show that weekend. why do we do this to ourselves? because it's in our nature, we are made in the image of God and he did the same for us. there is a necessity for pain in order to achieve anything worth calling beautiful . we bleed. we wait. we pant. we mess up and try again.

and then we hit that note. we nail that fourth pirouette. or that shot of the lightning hitting the mountain.

and its like ecstasy.

its like you're with the creator of the universe.

call it adrenaline or an overload of endorphins . or whatever ,but for a moment in time you are exactly who you were made to be.

when we endure trials, pain, or necessary obstacles for that one beautiful instance we get the tiniest taste of what He did for us. Christ went before us, he endured pain beyond pain- all to be with us.

so i can blog/rant/complain about how hard it is over here to adjust to the inconveniences and cry about how much my body hurts from dancing like a maniac . but then i remember that the pain is necessary. it puts me one step closer to not just the dancer i want to be- but the child that God intended.

Day 4

when i arrived home the other night after getting lost, i felt like i could do anything. but when it rains it pours. Nick and i ended things last night- and though i felt it coming, it sucked miserably. i again wanted to retreat to comforts. my roomates. my mom. the beach, to think. but there was also this sense of relief. Ever since I arrived in Sydney I wasn't fully present because half of me was consumed with how i was going to make this relationship work. It might hit me later but God's given me such a peace about it. I can confidently say that it was for the best. We're in two different places not just geographically but in life. Our relationship brought to light things about ourselves we need to work on and so even though it sucks, its good. in the long run- that's what i'm telling myself..

Classes started today. I was so ready to get into a schedule, which is stupid because that is why i'm here. i applied for this program to escape the normalcy and the redundant pattern of life i had at PBA. now i would do anything for predictibility , or anything familiar.

I left the house at 7:15 am for my 8:30 jazz class. it took us 45 mins to get to the bus stop and another hour on the bus before we realized we were on the wrong one. i missed my first class and made it just in time for ballet at 10:45. We had to hop another bus to take us back to Drummoyne, i stood there freezing at the bus stop, shoes soaked, wondering how i was going to get my joints warm before class so i dont injure myself.wondering why the bus was 26 minutes late. wondering ... could things get worse? maybe. when a series of horrible things happen to me i start finding the humor in it all. there are times im waiting for Ashton Kutcher to pop out of the bushes and say i just got punk'd for a week

i got to dance today. and that alone was worth the hell getting there. ballet was easy, too easy. contemplating getting pointe shoes. I can return to two loves of my life to remind myself of who i am and why im here. thats God and dance. and those are in every city, country, continent and time zone

Day 3

Sometimes it takes getting lost to find you're way

after the last day of orientation, we were finally set free from a camp-like itinerary and felt we were adults again. we decided to go to a shopping center to get a few needed items. four others and I ventured on a bus to a target that was much more like an overpriced k mart. shampoo : 20$. shitty sweat pants : 35$ . such a disappointment. anyway i started heading home bc i saw it was getting dark fast. the map made it look like a straight shot. it was- just in the opposite direction of where i thought i was. i walked up a hill, under an overpass, through a neighborhood and realizing that nothing looked familiar. I stopped in a casino bc it was well lit to look at my map. I dont have a phone at this point- nor numbers of who to call if i could even use one. I asked someone for directions and they vaguely pointed my in the other direction. I walked another 20 minutes and didnt recognize anything. it started to rain. I asked 3 more people for directions- didnt speak english. shopping bags now getting wet. map wet. i thought - what the bloody hell am i doing here? so i put my big girl pants on and acted like i wasnt lost, walked toward where i saw lights and asked a friendly man in a uniform how to get home. this is a life lesson you learn in kindergarten, and at the time i felt about that helpless. i walked along sketchy roads, it was dark so i prayed. hard. all i could hear was God saying, i will never leave nor forsake you. and that got me home. home.. still deciding where that is exactly.

i think God strips us of comforts, reliances, and constants to get us in a vulnerable state. a place where he can say, finally. . . its just me and you.

we dont even realize how much we're relying on people or things to complete us until they're taken away. and you feel like you left pieces of yourself everywhere. But we were MADE WHOLE. we are perfectly complete in Him. not him, or her, or it. in Christ.

Australia, this semester, the people, are not what i expected. I knew it would be hard- not this hard. I think we often ask for God to stretch us, to grow us and when he tries we're not willing to yield to his way of doing things. we talk but dont walk

i have growing up to do.

Day 1

Bill bryson said that anyone flying into Sydney from the states should already feel accomplished just upon arriving because you technically dont exist for a day. I never got a July 20, 2010. my body was unaccounted for. i left LA on July 19th , flew for 14 hrs, yet arrived on july 21st. You would expect, having cheated time that when you stepped foot outside your carrier you would see signs with unfamiliar markings, people with space suits or vegetation that lit up to the touch- maybe even an Avatar. the first thing i saw when i hopped off the plane was a Krispy kreme and a Mcdonalds. the trees that lined the highways were pine and oak... the only reason i knew i wasnt in South Carolina was the bitter cold air when i stepped outside . it was rainy too. where's Hugh Jackman and the hot desert? hollywood lies.

they drove us into the city to get to campus and it was breathtaking. It redeemed my first impression of Sydney in an instant. It has the modern architecture of Vancouver, mixed with the quant colonial houses of charleston. and its the size of New York. I cant wait to get lost in it.

the australians i've met so far are rather funny. I would not use the word friendly or sweet but they really are genuinely nice. they seem skeptical at first and not willing to trust which i heard was bc they know we're leaving and dont like to get attached but they end up falling for us americans anyway. who can resist our charm ;)

my homestay situation is splendid. me and 3 others have our own little flat in the back of the family's house. The townsends have 4 children who are still living at home even though they are in their 20's which is odd. but its fun bc there is always people here and they are so laid back... about everything. except the internets which i am convinced wont last long. so i'm writing this now by a little box oven bc its near 40 degrees outside and houses/buildings dont have heat. I dont know when i'll be able to send this or post it bc i have to be on campus to do so. but i'm also in the futre so youll probably read it on the date that i wrote it. weird. everything here is backwards. the seasons, the constellations, south is cold, drive on the right, and i still dont know if the water goes down the drain backwards but i'll keep you posted.