Blog is traveling, just like me

Due to the future necessity of needing to password protect my blog, I unfortunately have to leave Stupendously At Sea behind, in favour of a more adult-sounding blog (with the ability to password protect). While I am sad about this, perhaps this is the internet gods telling me I am entering a new phase in my life.

All new posts will now be added to:

rebeccaflorenceisaak.wordpress.com

When posts become password protected, please feel free to message me for the password.

A Franciscan Blessing

The following is a prayer that was shared with us during a devotion this week. I love prayer that sounds like poetry, so I wanted to share.

May God bless you with discomfort...

at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger...

at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless you with tears...

to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness...

to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others cannot be done.

Amen.

The Welcoming Place

The MCC Welcoming Place reminds me of an eco-hotel. It is brightly coloured, chairs are made of wicker and rough fabric, and there are signs everywhere to remind you to save electricity. 

I enjoy it very much.

I am living in Africa House. The four Houses are named after the four regions where MCC works - Africa, Asia, Middle East/Europe, and Americas. They all look very similar, although their distinguishing features are the coloured patterns on the plaster walls outside, and the hand-made crafts from their namesake continents inside.

Even more exciting than the houses themselves, are the people living in them. My fellow SALTers (Serving and Learning Together) number just shy of sixty, with half of us from Canada, and the other half from the USA. There are fewer IVEPers (International Volunteer Exchange Program), but they represent many countries around the world. Many of them have been bravely fighting jet lag these past few days, while also being gracious enough to lead us in worship and eat strange new food.

We have been learning a lot. Our days start early, with breakfast, and then a devotional time before jumping into sessions. These sessions cover the history of MCC, logistics of our programs, and how to take care of ourselves. There are many more to come. We also have a surprising amount of free time, but that is quickly filled with card games or sports.

- - -

I have never been surrounded by so many people who know what the word "Mennonite" means.

For me, it only meant my grandparents and everything they embody. Which is many things that I have encountered here- the importance of charity and volunteering, peace, and of God's presence in our lives.

Here, for others I have encountered, it is their lives, not only one part of it. It is languages, food, people they know intimately.

It is amazing sharing a common history with so many people. A MCC staff member dramatically recounted the history of the organization, and I found myself surprised by how much it aligned with the little I know of my Dad's family origins. Catherine the Great inviting German Mennonites to settle in Russia, the flight of many to North America, conscientious objectors to the Great Wars.

I knew I was signing up to work with an organization whose values I agreed with, but I did not know how much of MCC I am already apart of.

- - -

The Warehouse

On Thursday, we went on a tour of Material Resource Centre (MRC), a few miles away from The Welcoming Place.

MCC has three main areas of focus - relief, development, and peace. The first is greatly illustrated in the MRC, where many items are prepared for shipment to international destinations that have experienced a disaster- either natural disasters or as a result of a conflict.

Top: A map detailing where MCC has warehouses and where they send goods. Left: Shipment information Right: Looms that turn scrap material into mats which are sold.

As I realized what we were walking into, I got excited. Very excited.

This was everything we had discussed in my Humanitarian Assistance class, and although we did a 3-day disaster simulation, we did not actually get to see this work in action. Here there were stacks upon stacks of canned goods, school kits, hygiene kits. There was a board detailing recent shipments.

Stacks of wrapped quilts & comforters.

There a few unique things about the MRC. I'm not sure how many contemporary humanitarian organizations have Quilting Rooms and functioning looms in their warehouses.

Many of MCC's supporters are traditional Amish or Mennonite, meaning that many of them feel the best way to support those overseas is through labour. Many hours go into making beautiful quilts to be auctioned off to raise money, or others to be sent overseas. We certainly did not discuss the logistics of shipping handmade quilts in my class.

I asked a lot of questions. Specifically, I was curious as to why MCC still ships food overseas, when that is generally now a frowned upon practice. The answers I received were promising- that is a controversial practice, but it is one that many of their constituents support.

I asked so many questions, and continued to ask them the next day, that a staff member remarked that I was very interested. When I explained I would love to work in this sector, he offered to set up a lunch meeting with someone works in MCC's relief work. I am amazed what simple curiosity has done.

- - -

Orientation has been a lot of sitting & listening, but in the best way possible. Everyone is brimming with excitement and patience for each other. The heat here in Pennsylvania is suffocating, but our houses and the Meeting Place provide sanctuary from the heat, but also a sanctuary in each other's presence.

Here's where you can support me sweating in Pennsylvania!

career vs. mission: understanding what I’m doing with my life

I’m leaving in 2 days.

In 2 days I will be traveling to Akron, Pennsylvania. I will be there for 18 days for training + some extra time and then traveling to Beirut, Lebanon. From there, I will be settling into a Program & Educational Activities Assistant role with MCC’s national partner Popular Aid for Relief and Development (who look super cool!!).

Packing is hard.

Since the beginning of my program at Humber College, I have been searching for an internship (although I would laugh with classmates about procrastinating about job searching – I lied, sorry guys). I was very nervous about finding a placement, which is required to graduate from our program. I had heard about Mennonite Central Committee’s Serving and Learning Together (SALT) program, but I had dismissed the thought, wanting a ‘real job’. As it turns out, it is awfully hard to find a ‘real job’ when the only thing you have ever been is a full-time student.

Through a series of coincidences (and looking back, divine luck), I applied and was accepted to SALT. I had my eyes set on the position in Beirut, which seemed to fit perfectly with what I have been studying this past year at Humber. I was delighted to be offered the role, but then given about a week to decide, which at the time, felt like the fastest week of my life.

I’ve known of MCC my entire life. My grandparents and parents both speak very highly of the organization, and I knew that I could find no better organization to serve under. They are well respected for their work, attitude, and their emphasis on peace-building is unique and speaks to me.

Career vs Mission

I didn’t plan, or really, didn't want to, be in a ‘missional’ type role coming out of Humber. Mission tends to refer to a calling or vocational role to go out into the world and share the Good News about Christ. Not that I didn't want to be employed by an agency that had similar values to mine, but I dreamed of the elusive paycheck, as all new graduates do. Further, the goal of my program was to provide employable skills, and I was looking forward to putting those into use. However, I was convinced by many peers and mentors that perhaps I should think more closely about SALT.

SALT is described as a “year-long, cross-cultural service experience”. The three goals of the program are to experience personal, professional and spiritual growth; help foster international goodwill and understanding; and finally gain personal experience with, and commitment to, the global church. And I am excited for all these things, I am!

However, there are also many reasons why this is a very smart career move for me! Here are a few:

• Proof of the ability to live abroad long-term is often necessary to be hired by an international NGO, this is something I lack on my resume.
• Hands on experience with a national organization.
• Language lessons! My French/Spanish attempts have not been great, so I’m setting the bar high for Arabic, but I remain positive.
• Working in an area of the world that is very ‘employable’ right now, especially for relief and emergency work.
• Short of the donation I have to raise, there will be little personal cost to myself (to put it bluntly, I get more out of it than I put in).

Packing is easier with friends.

To summarize, I have struggled feeling guilty about doing a God-centered, God-focused program (and fundraising for it) while also knowing that this could possibly be the program that launches my career.

When I spoke with a pastor recently and brought up my concerns to him – as well as my uncertainty about fundraising for a ‘smart’ career move - he asked me for a definition of the word ‘mission’. I fumbled for an answer, and he encouraged me to think of my life as a whole. There doesn’t need to be my ‘career’ in one box and ‘mission’ in another. They can overlap and not detract value from each other. This was encouraging and something I still consider often, and something I’m sure I will continue to think about.

That being said, this is the link to my registry. I’m grateful for those that have given already to me, as well as the generous support from Humber College. I have little less than two thousand to raise, which I will hopefully find over the next year.

home

I've been home for just over two weeks now.

And I'm not really sure what to make of it.

I thought I was content, I thought I was fine to just watch TV and eat home cooked meals. And in a way, I am. There is nothing safer, nothing that makes me happier than being on Glory Road, in Bancroft, Ontario.

And maybe that's the problem.

I've downloaded almost a dozen travel movies and bookmarked three times as many travel blogs. My mind doesn't rest on the here, but the 'when' and 'how'. Like, how viable is it to hitchhike across Canada. Or, when will I have enough money to buy a plane ticket that leaves this continent.

How long until I graduate.

When can I return.

When can I leave.

There are so many question marks in my future, but I think I'd almost rather that than solid answers. Answers are grounding, definite, and final. Questions are freeing.

- - -

If you see me, ask me about the twenty-four hours I spent getting home, including those hours that I thought I wasn't going to make it home.

Madrid to Lisbon to Toronto nearly broke me in more ways than one, but I swear I was the happiest traveler regardless. I accidentally told the guy at the Pizza Hut that I was gleefully going "Home to Canada!" rather than if I wanted dipping sauce or not.

- - -

I'm leaving for camp tomorrow, one of my favourite places in the world. And I've seen a lot of places now. Ontario Pioneer Camp holds a special place in my heart because it has shaped me into the woman I am today, and has given me so much. It is home as much as Glory Road is. I am very happy to continue to readjust back in such a place.

I don't doubt that it will continue to be a challenge to readjust back to life on land, but it's a challenge I think I am ready for.

Because, for a while, I was stupendously at sea.

things I want

- to lie with cat on my stomach and watch TV for an unhealthy amount of
hours
- to run barefoot outside in the backyard, dodging those prickly bushes
- drag the canoe down the embankment to the river and spend hours
fighting the current until my arms are sore
- to clean the kitchen, empty the dishwasher
- to not feel less capable because I speak only one language
- Tim Hortons, specifically a maple dip doughnut
- to go for walks with my family, alternatively chasing my brother and
the frisbee
- listen at night from my bedroom and hear nothing but the nightly
orchestra of crickets
- to close my eyes and know exactly where I am because of the curve and
bumps of the road
- to be home

I find myself wanting to sleep more because time passes quicker that
way. When I sleep I don't have to think about how much it hurts to think
about home. The past few days have been excruciating. It doesn't feel
quite real. Like, I know I will be home in just over 48 hours, but I've
been homesick so much the past few months this just feels like another
phase, and then I will have to get over it, to move on, then another
adventure until I remember again.

I remember my plane landing in Yangon and thinking, "What is it going to
feel like when the plane touches down in Toronto?" That felt like a
lifetime ago, but it feels more real than going home.

Home.

- - -

Oddly, I feel like I've been mentally home for a while now, figuring out
school things and camp things. Realizing that I will be moving into my
house in Kingston in a week is an odd thought. Won't I always be away
from the familiar?

But thus ends this chapter of my life.

I want to write something inspiring or thoughtful or meaningful on my
last day abroad but nothing is really coming to mind other than I
freaking can't wait to see my family, to use my phone as an actual phone
again, and be someplace I understand.

I think the whole reflection/understanding of this crazy semester will
take time. A long time.

It will be really tempting, I think, when I get home, to not want to
talk about it. They warned us, the last few days on the ship, that we
will be very annoying when we get home, the person who keeps name
dropping all the places they've been to. I don't want to be that person,
and I'm afraid that's going to result in me shutting down all
conversations about my travels, even if someone is genuinely curious. Or
maybe because I don't think I can put it into words for myself, I don't
want to try for others.

They also told us on the ship about "re-entry". The frustration that
accompanies going home, the shock of returning to your home culture.
Right now that seems absurd, but I suppose I will be watching for that.

- - -

I just want to skip the next 48 hours. I want to skip the nine hour
layover and eight hour plane ride.

I want to be in that moment of walking through the door in the airport
hauling all my stuff with me and see my family's faces when they see me.
I want the tears that will happen in that moment, I'm sure.

I want an awful lot of things, don't I?

- - -

Okay, enough of this. I think I will try to write one more entry before
I leave for camp, but then this blog will fade out of existence, being
that I am no longer stupendously at sea! And stupendously at home/school
just doesn't have the same ring to it I think.

Thanks again to all who have come with me so far. I'll see you soon.

mi familia or, when wanderlust is sated

It feels incredible to have a place that I can come back to at the end of the day. I'm well into my stay in Madrid, currently spending my mornings sleeping, my afternoons in a Spanish classroom and taking long unplanned walks, and my evenings with family.

To explain for non-family members... I'm not actually blood related to anyone in Madrid. My Uncle Carlos was an exchange student who lived with my Mom's family when she was in high school. He's been my "Uncle" my entire life, even though I only had a glimpse of a memory of meeting him when I was little, and I've only met him and his family a couple times in my adult life.

Regardless, he and his family have welcomed me graciously into their home in Madrid. I've loved getting to know him as well as his lovely wife and two daughters (who are 12 and 15 and more beautiful and socially-adept than I ever will be). I can't really explain my joy at being able to help load dishes into a dishwasher or eat ice cream in front of the tv- things that feel so blessedly normal I have never been so grateful for.

- - -

But along with the normal, I have been experiencing the city, but at my own pace (snail speed compared to SAS, but what I think I need right now).

I've spent hours in art galleries, and I intend to spend more. I avoid the tour groups and let my thoughts lead me. I love the Bibical scenes that I recognize but those that I don't even more, the colours and the stories.

I've spent a considerable amount of time in the Parque del Retrio, Madrid's largest park, 10 minutes from the house. I take a different route every time through it, and always find something new.



Carlos took me to a football match... This is really important here, apparently. All I know is I watched like six hours of soccer last Saturday and we're going to another match tomorrow.



Some of my SAS friends would be slightly appalled about how little I have done in Madrid. But to honest, I kind of want it this way. When I get home, I have precious little time to transition back to real life, then to camp. This is my vacation, and if that means reading in a park every day and eating sushi with my cousins and ice cream with my uncle then I am getting the most out of my time here.

- - -

I've been really struggling with how much I want to go home.

I remembered recently the countdown I had on my whiteboard all last semester, counting down the days until I left. I couldn't wait to leave. And now, the thought of waiting 7 days until my flight home seems forever. Not to mention the 8 hour flight across the ocean.

I'm concerned that this aching desire to go home means that living overseas isn't the right fit for me. I'm afraid that I'm actually secretly one of those people we whispered about on the ship, those people, who have no desire to leave their home town, who think North America is the best this planet has to offer.

But then I think about the excitement that buoyed me as I walked off the ship into a new country. Somewhere new to explore. And I loved the places that felt most like I could live there. I suppose once I spend a long time in a new country, truly making it home, then I maybe wouldn't miss Canada so much.

And then I remember that I have a lot to look forward to in the next year. My final year of my undergrad (including my little brother attending the same school, which means we'll get to spend more time together than we have in the past three years, which delights me to no end), fantastic new housemates and a challenging job, not to mention a summer at the greatest place in outer space before that. Being away has also confirmed how much I care about my friends at home. I'm excited to return to their friendships and how they will continue to grow in the upcoming years. And there's something cheesy about how distance makes the heart grow fonder... it's true, I think.

Some of my friends on the ship had absolutely no desire to return to their home, even displaying a sort of revulsion at the thought. I thought that was a little sad. The world is wonderful, but if you can't find any spark of happiness in the place where you were raised, I don't think you're looking hard enough.

- - -

All for now. Buenos noche.