On Being a Companion

In the first few weeks past orientation, I fielded a phone call from a scared young man. He wanted to ask about specific line-by-line fields in his Personal Information Form (PIF). He had so many questions, I invited him to come into the office. We worked hard, and filled out the 16 page document. I heard his story, and helped him apply for social assistance,  legal aid, work permit, etc. I also connected him to a legal lady who works part time here. Some things he qualified for, and others he didn't.
Throughout the year, he checked in with me. I helped with various things. He found support groups, doctors, a counselor, a church (all on his own).
When my leg was broken, he gave me a sweet, and entirely appropriate, card with some candy.
He received a notice for scheduling, and began to panic a bit. He didn't qualify for legal aid, and no lawyers wanted to touch his case. Our legal lady began to talk to him about other options, because we knew, he didn't fit the definition of a refugee or protected person. He panicked some more. He disappeared for a while.
He found some other options for himself, and he found a lawyer.
The day before the hearing, I asked if he still wanted me to come to the hearing. He said he didn't want me to see him crying. that it would make him more nervous. etc. etc. So I didn't go.
Yesterday he had his hearing. He was summarily denied.
Today he called me. He sounded so relieved that it was all over. It was the least stressed and least panicked that he's been all year. He sounded normal. He's evaluating his options, but will probably return to his home country, work a bit, and then attempt to come back to Canada as a student or a worker.

And so I'm reminded what accompaniment is about: walking with people, even if its not the romanticized ideal "refugee". I walked with him this year, through the entire refugee process. People have the right to be heard. He was heard. His claim was denied, the legally appropriate response (dare I judge?).

Everyone has the right to make a refugee claim, to be heard by a refugee protection officer, and to present evidence proving their claims. Laws, human rights, international conventions, they apply equally to likable and unlikable people. to nice people and mean ones, anxious or angry, tall or short, OCD or scattered, attractive or ugly, old or young, fat or funny. Everyone has the right to be heard. At RH, we try to walk with the people who come to us, as faithfully as we can, throughout the Canadian process. I am transformed by the strength, dignity, and sheer willpower of those who I have companioned (for which I am so thankful).

My Story Tree is Drooping

either from the insane humidity today, or the weight of so many stories.
 + + +
The boy who lives downstairs is singing "I know a song that is on anybody's words, anybody's words, anybody's words". I'm not sure if I want to correct him so he sings "that gets on everybody's nerves" or not.

His baby sister has the most wonderful smile. I babysat her today while she slept.

Their middle sister has made only happy noises today, as far back as I can remember. And she was happy this morning waiting for the bus

+ + +

the ladies who live underneath his family will miss me when I'm gone. They tell me my skin is like velvet.
Last night, we couldn't find a skin color in our new xbox360 avatar selections that matched one of them. she was laughing, and yelling, Christine! find it! where is my color?!. Its not here! and we couldn't find it anywhere. nothing lighter than dark dark brownish black that was lighter than cinnamon.
...
This whole week whenever I've come through the front door, she has stopped me, demanded I sit down and tell her about my day. It feels good.
...
Today, we talked about the interns salaries.
"that boy, he is working overtime?" -H
"yeah... except we don't get paid overtime, so really he's just working extra" -me
"ey! how much do you get paid? you work for free?" -H
"well. we get enough for rent. and then $115 for food. and then $200 just for us"
"it is not bad" - L simultaneously with H saying "it is so bad!
"no. its not a lot of money, but we have lots of fun anyways" -me
"but, you know. That thing you do. According to the Bible, if you do the volunteering, especially with the refugees and the very poor ones, you will be blessed more than the one who works for money. You will have very many blessings because of your work this year.
Even us, we volunteer too. It is good. Me? I volunteer for two hours a week, and then I am fed up. You? you work every day all year, even weekends sometimes.
you have learned so much this year. You talk to me, it is like you are namibian too. you talk to Z, it is like you are from her country.... and we learn too.
If you had just stayed in California, stayed with your mom, you would not have learned anything. Your mind would be closed. If you travel, if you help people, God will open your mind.
You know, life is not easy, working with the people.
But you guys, you come here to be with us for a full year. It is so much. It is amazing."

+ + +

The lady that lives below her has her hearing date, and did so beautifully in an interview today that she's starting work on Friday. Her daughter and I are going swimming this week. I'm excited.

+ + +

Today I turned over all my files to our director. Now I need to slowly clean out my desk and plan two last things. It feels good (among other emotions)

A Short Dictionary of Life Here

babies: a fact of life. over the course of the year, many turn into toddlers, and are replaced by new ones in different families.
communication: highly prized, but rarely fully realized
community: all-encompassing, defines life, yet makes little sense from the outside.
idealistic: a term thrown about with disdain as we balance impossible lives
interns: first overwhelmed confused small beings, then after three months become highly experienced staff members capable of legal advice, housing support, event coordination, public administration, teaching, babysitting, and counseling. Thoroughly appreciate when others cook for them, especially halusky.
left over wine: the best part of being voluntold to work events
meat: a highly prized nutritional supplement, fiercely defended against vegetarian proclamations of thinner staff

ohromerohouse: said with a loving sigh, or amused eyeroll. used on occasions where illogical decisions are made on behalf of bettering or protecting a relationship

ohmaryjo: a frequent saying. also can be followed by a song "mary jOoOoOo mary jo mary jo" closely related to: ohromerohouse
Oscar Romero's Prayer: not actually written by him, but quoted liberally in public and private
patience: the highest virtue we know.
parties: an essential ingredient for encouraging joy and happiness with the residents

prayer: a daily morning occurrence, to varying levels of participation or appreciation.

pregnant/mother: what all female-interns are regularly told they are (or ought to be) by residents, drop-ins, and former residents

sleep: highly prized, especially on weekends past nine am. 

TTC pass: highly prized plastic cards that interns can use in spare time to escape briefly. highly contentious issue if not returned in time. 

volentold: when interns work unplanned weekends or evenings for events that don't involve residents or daily tasks. the modus opperandi for making events happen that have been planned for other people.

Wanda: where to go when you don't have any money left to really get away from it all

another person's opinion on my experience here

I met a character from one of Mary Jo's books last night.
He's the Jesuit who left the order to start a family.
Jack told us last night "he's more of a Jesuit than I'll ever be" (to which the man rolled his eyes and shook his head)
He's now working internationally for the Jesuits in his retirement. He looked sternly at the three female interns sitting on the bench across from him. "Be careful. Once you get involved with the Jesuits, you'll always stay involved" ..whoops...

...

later he asked me if Romero House had "ruined me for life" like the Jesuit Volunteers say that JVS does for their life. I told him I really didn't like that term at all. He explained that I was "ruined" from ever enjoying dominant culture, or capitalism, or all these other things. I told him I still didn't like that term.

 I prefer ideas of a more infinite Yes. Being open to a greater existence, a world of unseen possibilities, etc, etc.

...

Being a "Ruined" person implies that I could never go back even if I wanted to. It alludes to "ruined women" who, having lost their virginity, could never be accepted in proper society again. It implies that I have no choice in the matter. Me, having had one singular experience, would be automatically rejected by society. The experience entered me, and I having experienced it, am ruined.  No turning back, and I have not influenced anyone or anything. I have been altered, and must live with the consequences. He assumes that before we enter into these year-or-two-long experiences we were pure and naive, maybe even innocent.
I viscerally am disgusted by that idea.

...

I, being Presbyterian (apparently), prefer the idea that I have been walking this road since before I was born. That I am who I am, and I will be who I was meant to be, and this is but one experience in a long string of experiences. I am richer for it, I am stronger for it, I am wiser for it.

I am not ruined because of it.

...

After I leave here, I will continue to stretch and grow, and think about things. I will continue to live alongside people, to address issues of poverty and injustice. I will continue to read, to question authority, to pray and to sing (badly but happily). I will love children, I will fight for families. I will keep learning to budget. I will read the news. I will laugh. I will go shopping (sometimes even at Wal-Mart, when I'm really desperate and the event is about to start). I will make things from scratch, and I will repair things that break. I will buy plastic and cheap furniture when I move into a new apartment. I will garden, and I will buy mangoes imported from across the world. I will drink tea and talk dirty with women from across the globe. I will call my friends, and be glad to hear their voice on my coltan-dependent fancy cell phone. I will be angry at the news sometimes, and I will take full advantage of my US citizenship to travel anywhere in the world (almost).

...

The world is not black and white. I am neither ruined nor pure. I reserve the right to interact with the world as myself, outside of categories or assumptions. I have been me for many years before this one. I will continue to be this person for many years to come.

Let Me Pick You A Story From Our Tree

He knows my name! my friend told me while sitting in the common room.
He can say it! He told me, it means Gift in his language.
He knows my name!

And my name too! my other friend-neighbor told me
but he doesn't know what it means... but it is from his language too.
It is a name in his country.

because our country had many missionaries from Finland.
this is how we learned about God.

Many people, when they meet me, they cannot say my name, because of the j
even you, you couldn't remember our names when you met us
but he, he knows how to say our names. he knows our names.

* * *

"I was talking to my boyfriend about the pinatas. He asked if you had gone to teacher's college or something, because you were really good. I said no. It was just you."

* * *
like most days, I woke up exhausted, but I got out of bed nevertheless to go clean up from the street party. Worked a few hours, then crashed at Starbucks a few hours. A former resident had been in the ER yesterday ('ey! I saw that one who lives in my house now in the hospital, but he didn't see me), and I took her son home last night and checked in on her. Today I promised to cook her dinner, but I was dreading it all day.
I left an hour late, but picked up some chicken, ice cream and perogies from the store on the way. I cooked her some chicken rice soup (that turned into chicken rice after I served it... hmmm) and we watched two movies. I taught her son how to cook perogies (for lunch this week), and eventually left around 10pm in the best mood I've been in for a while. Life is so good.

then my journey home reminded me of why Canada is great.

As I left her rent-geared-to-income apartment complex I walked through a poorer part of downtown, unnoticed by anyone. No catcalls, no asking for change, no dirty or suspicious glances. Just people minding their own business on their own stoops or going somewhere of their own.
When I got to the subway station, I read the handwritten sign at the teller's booth. "Agent gone.  Please drop your payment in the box and continue through the turnstile"
So I dropped 2.50 in the box and walked through the turnstile,
hopped on my prompt subway, transferred quickly
and was home in 20 minutes.
(and when I got off the subway at Dundas West, I realized maybe I have been in Canada too long. I did the right thing, and paid the fare even when no one was watching. Whats worse, I didn't even notice that until I had gotten home....)

wholeheartedness

I pulled this quote from a book a few Saturdays ago, and have been weighing it ever since.

The antidote to exhaustion may not be rest. It may be wholeheartedness.

Its completely counter-intuitive, and its the last thing I want someone to tell me on a low-day.  But... somehow its true (when authentically enacted). I never realize it beforehand, but sometimes I stand up and realize I feel better. The solution is wholeheartedness.

This week has been long and tedious. I've been working on installing internet, which although innocent sounding, is actually a Herculean task wherein beyond every solution lies two more problems. AND, people who have never had internet before now, have realized they will have internet as soon as I solve all the problems. So they come and bug me. Every day. Multiple times a day. (and interns were included in that, until I asked them to stop). Yesterday, I restored internet to two apartments, only to take it away from the family with the most computers. I could shoot something.
I may be perfectly competent to call customer service for hours on end, and I may be perfectly computer literate. I may have ALL the necessary skills. BUT IT DRAINS MY SOUL AWAY TO CARE SO MUCH ABOUT INSTALLING INTERNET FOR WEEKS ON END.

so, its Friday. This morning, I worked on internet. This afternoon I went to an appointment in Brampton with a family. I was gone for 5 hours. I came home and cooked fajitas for dinner. I was so tired.

I came up through the back driveway to my house. I was thinking about mowing our front lawn, but before I could get to it, I saw the little girl from the basement playing in the dirt. I called her to me, and showed her how she could pull out the little oak seedlings as she played. We made little tree bouquets together and then raced to put them in the green bin. After a while, she asked me "Christine, are you ever going to cut down that long grass up there?" and I said, "Yeah. I am. Let's do it right now."
So I went and grabbed some pruning shears to attack these plants that looked like they were going to be beautiful flowers, but ended up being flailing grassy leaves that are taking over our garden. I started chopping. The girl started helping me pull out the stocks.
Soon one of the ladies from the first floor came out. "What are you doing?? Is it garden club today? I was going to take a shower, but I saw you and I came out to see what is happening"
"No, its not garden club not exactly. But you can help us if you want!"
So the lady came down and started tugging out plants too.
A little while later the small girl's mom came out too.
Soon, a lady from another house came by, because her family had been playing in the parkette. I didn't see her at first, I just heard "Christine!!! Why you is no invite me for garden club!?!?!"
I responded "Well. It was an accident. There will be a real garden club soon, but this is just an accident. it started with just me and the girl, and then it just kept getting bigger...."
"Okay. Who cares. I help you."
So then we were four grown women, pulling out crazy strong plants. We got some pitchfork action going, got the roots out of some of them (more work to come, though). We planned a party for our house, thought up what seeds to use, talked about last year, talked about plants that grow in everyone's home countries. And as it got dark, we headed inside, and washed up.

And my heart feels so much better now.

Self-centred universe?

In her upcoming book, Mary Jo Leddy, (Romero House Founder), writes on the empire of self that as Americans (she sees Canada as a colony of the US) have grown up knowing as reality. We believe that the world revolves around our country, our media, and by extension, our God, our perception and knowings of God, and even our personal lives. Everyone here lives in a self-centered world. She even points to Christian self-help devotionals that say before we can help anyone or do external works, we must know ourselves, as examples of the self-centered world. Her solution to this problem is to encounter the stranger, and welcome the stranger. When she helps people currently seen as refugees, she is pulled outside herself to serve, and then (hopefully) be transformed in the encounter.

...

All of which, I would generally agree with, even before I read her second chapter this afternoon.

I fullheartedly agree with the radical proposition of Isaiah 58:6-8, that if we work for justice, our own wounds will heal. our own redemption will come.

...

And yet, I am currently bound in my room with books and a computer. In my whole theory of giving up independence for Lent, I still remain in the centre of my newly constructed world. Where is the Lenten transformation in that? In the paradigm I've been working from (pre broken ankle), in order to extend beyond myself, I would need to do something. I would be the one "not hiding from relatives that need my help" and "sharing my food with the hungry". In that version of the paradigm, I am unable to perform those acts, and thus am unable to receive the salvation that comes with the dawn. I am living in a self-centred world. I am the centre of my space. People only come here to be with me. I will not encounter strangers here, I don't think.

...

The solution I think, is to be open to seeing old people in strange ways, to welcoming the new dependent relationships. I need to be open to the possibility that the intern with whom I most often butt heads might be the one who visits me most consistently, who calls to check in daily. The culture that informs the interesting communication among our team is also dictating care and concern for me.

I need to be open to receiving the care and concern that my housemates offer. In redefining our roles to one another, my self should be open to be altered.

I need to be open to the possibility that I can accept gracefully whatever is given to me. I must trust that the godliness and salvation offered by Isaiah in the interchange are given communally, and that grace has many guises (most of which are quite humbling).

I do not earn love or favor, redemption or righteousness. I ought to exist beloved. Nouwen says I am God's Beloved.

On Observing Lent for the first time...

So what is LENT?

At Jesus' baptism the sky split open, the Spirit of God, which looked like a dove, descended and landed on Jesus, and a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, My Beloved, with whom I am pleased." Afterward, as told in Matthew 4:1-11, Jesus was sent into the wilderness by the Spirit. Where he fasted and prayed for 40 days. During his time there he was tempted by Satan and found clarity and strength to resist temptation. Afterwards, he was ready to begin his ministry.

(Speculation)

Maybe Jesus needed some time with God to sort through the major changes happening in his life. Maybe needed to get away from family, friends and the familiar routine in order to see God (and himself) more clearly. Perhaps he wanted some intentional time with God as he searched for direction and answers like you. Like Jesus, we may need to take some serious time to pray and listen for God.

(http://www.upperroom.org/methodx/thelife/articles/lent101.asp)

* * * * * *

Lent is coinciding with my mandatory bed rest. I'm taking it as an opportunity to think about things. I haven't decided exactly what merits so much thought, but its quite possible that my leg will be in a cast for at least the 40 days from Lent, so I guess that its a good opportunity to give up independence for Lent. Instead of all the things that keep me busy, keep me happy, keep me connected, I'll be dependent on new people, on new things. I'm trying to be positive here and frame it as a spiritual practice to keep me from going stir-crazy.

One would think that independence would naturally be curtailed by living in community. To a certain extent, it is. My life is definitely defined by living on $150 a month, by living with the people I work with/for, by not being able to afford a cell phone. However, I would say that prior to this year, I wasn't dependent on money, my friends, or my cell phone. Being here has perhaps grown that independence, but it was definitely already present. When I was in my terrible twos, my favorite thing to say was "NO! Neeny do it self!". I didn't like people helping me when I was perfectly capable of doing something (or figuring out how to do something) on my own. I don't like being dependent on money, on people, on technology. I like standing alone on a street corner and walking to wherever I want to go. Sitting in a park. Being in a coffee shop thinking my own thoughts until I'm ready to go to the next place. I like planning events, and telling other people what to do, organizing community so that everyone is included.

But now, I've gone off and broken my fibula. I'm stuck in bed until the swelling goes down significantly, and then I'll still be in a cast after that. A cast that can't get wet, that can't rest on hard surfaces. Like it or not, there are a lot of things that I am physically not capable of doing on my own. I might be able to figure out a creative way to make things happen, but I'm currently feeling the effects of trying too hard the three days before I got my cast. So for now at least, I'm being uncreative, and I'm lying helpless in bed. For the next week.

I am dependent for meals, I am dependent for interaction with real people, I am dependent for help going anywhere other than the bathroom and the kitchen next door. I have one leg that I can hop on.

And yet, it is good to be dependent on my community. I know that they will probably get tired of me, and I know that everyone else has such busy lives. For now though, I am incredibly thankful for the three phone calls a day I get from one intern. I am thankful for the friend who visited for an hour this afternoon. I am thankful for my six year old neighbor who came and brought me a little creme cake think (ala Twinkie but flat), and her two favorite dolls to keep my company while she is in school tomorrow. I am thankful for my mama and my daddy. and I am SO thankful for facebook connections and best friend messages.

* * * * * *

Lent is the perfect season of the year for solitude and self-reflection. As we spiritually journey into the desert, Lent is a time to reexamine our boundary lines and get realigned, set in right relationship with God and the world around us.

http://www.upperroom.org/methodx/thelife/articles/lentsimplicity.asp

* * * * * *

I apparently will spend a bit of time in solitude and self-reflection. I think it might be healthy for me to get realigned with the adult me, figure out where I stand (lay? recline? hobble?) with God and the world. (sidenote: I think the Catholic influence here has gotten me into the Christ-above-culture paradigm in terms of how I think of God. i kinda like it.)

I ought not be afraid of time alone. I ought not be too busy Doing Things to take a step back and think about Being someone, and Thinking Things (that can't be real, at least not at this point in time). I think that I need to engage in the abstract world, as something real too. Because at least for now, I can't really engage fully in the physical world here as much as I could with two working legs.

Or maybe its a time to engage with this community in different ways. Encouraging people? Asking for a Spanish tutor? Appreciating the giftedness, love, and steadiness of all the residents who care for me.

I don't want to shy away from theology either. Although I feel quite nervous looking it straight in the face and pronouncing opinions. I am a bit shy post-Whitworth, but RH conversations keep the thoughts flowing. Maybe its time to put some out on "paper". ...its just that I prefer living my convictions so much more than entering into any kind of silly debate... anyways. If I'm to take Lent seriously, and dig for some deeper profound meaning in my bed-rest time, I think it ought to include God. somehow. and I think I ought not be shy about trying to extrapolate what it is that I've actually learned, and how (if at all) I'm actively changing, and growing.

I think I still am the luckiest girl in the world. This could be the best place to be stuck in a cast that I've been to yet. I think that it will all be okay in the end. :)