Polska Part 1 - The Training

From June 20th to July 16th, 2016, I had the opportunity to join with a team from my church to go serve as a teacher for a youth English camp in Piotrków Trybunalski, Poland. Going into it, I had no idea what I was getting myself into and just how much the experience,  and especially the people, would change my life.

I'm still just starting to process everything, and I'm hoping this series of blogs will help me do that. Plus, I get to share what happened with all of my incredible support team back on the US. Without you guys, your financial, emotional, and prayer support, there's no way I would have been able to do this. So, from the depths of my heart, thank you.

Now we get to the fun part ^_^

We met at the church at 4am to ride the church van over to LAX where we would board the first of 3 planes. Several of us didn't sleep the night before in the hopes that we would be sufficiently exhausted enough to get a little sleep on the plane from Boston to Munich, and that our body clocks would then be confused enough to adjust quickly to being 9 hours ahead in Poland. It actually seemed to work pretty well!

 

One of the younger girls had issues with a head/toothache, but handled it like a pro and powered through. Other than that, our looooong travel day went very smooth. It was also interesting to see how quick and easy it is to get through customs in every other place but LAX...

5 hours from LA to Boston, 7 hours from Boston to Munich, and another hour from Munich to Wrocław, and we were finally in Poland!!! Aaaaaaand had another 3 hour bus ride to the h2o training facility.

After travelling for approximately 29 hours straight, we arrived bedraggled and exhausted. The Josiah Venture interns were there to enthusiastically welcome us, get us settled in for the next couple days, feed us real food, and prepare us for the week ahead.

 

Once we'd all eaten, we perked up and decided to explore the facility - a gorgeous fairytale forest land of magic and wonder. Plus, the sun doesn't set until around 9:30pm in the summer.

The next day was significantly less crazy than the travel days, and I actually managed to get a decent amount of sleep that first night. The day was filled with training - how to present the gospel, how to run the English camp, how to teach the English lessons, and more about Polish culture. Apparently a lot of my mannerisms are very Polish. For instance, they generally have to be asked several times to join in an activity before they'll say yes, even if they really want to. Also, if you ask them a question that requires more than a simple yes or no answer, they usually need time to process and actually figure out their thoughts. If you promise something to a Pole, they will take it very seriously and will expect you to follow through.

During the culture presentation, they showed a video about Auschwitz. It's always hard to watch anything about the holocaust, and the weight of it started to sink in in a different way than it had before now that we were actually in the country where it happened. But, this video also showed the prisoners who stubbornly clung to their humanity by creating art and showing love in spite of everything. The whole thing put everything in perspective, and reminded us that Poles are so much stronger than they often get credit for. Their joy and human spirit would go on to amaze me in the coming weeks in ways I couldn't have imagined.  

There were also team-building exercises where we had to name and use each other's strengths. Our team: an older couple, a former teacher/missionary, an actress, a costumer, a computer science student, a mom and dad, a 13-going-on-30-year-old, a 10-year-old, and me - an English major working at Disneyland who has no idea what she's doing with her life. No one would have put that team together and expected it to accomplish anything worthwhile. But God did.

During free time, Alva, Sammie, and I walked along the river behind the camp, braving the hoards of bugs for the sake of the abundance of green gorgeousness. Alva and I got delicious ice creams and bonded by the lake. 

Dinner was followed by a mock Evening Program like the ones we would be expected to present at the camps. I was incredibly nervous about that part, because I'd committed to giving the evening talk the second night even though public speaking is only just above sticking my head into a fire anthill on my list of things I like to do. More on how that turned out in subsequent blogs. 

There was a concert of cover songs put on by the Exit team, but we were all too worn out and I had to write the correspondence letter back to the church. When I finished, I went out to find the other girls, and they were all playing basketball. I don't sports, so I awkwardly played my mandolin for background music and it was a really lovely time. 

The next day there were a couple more talks and a big commissioning of all the teams who would be going out to various cities in Poland to conduct their English camps. The commissioning was really powerful to be a part of. You could really feel the passion and power in the room, and everyone was so excited to see what God was going to do through all of us. It was also very humbling to have people you barely knew lay their hands on you and pray over you.

After we packed we had some time just waiting around before our bus to Piotrkow. Alva and I found an old bicycle. It had a very tall seat, and luckily, I am very tall, so I rode around on it for a bit. We had more girl bonding time with Tracie as well, and it was just a really great time where we were all able to encourage each other, reassuring one another that though we've each been through a lot of pain and hurt, God can use those things to help us connect, love, and heal the little corners of the world we occupy. 

Tired, but so excited and encouraged, we pressed onward to Piotrkow, having no idea what challenges, but also what great rewards lay ahead.

The New Year

2015 was quite the year. Instead of my usual end-of-year summary blog post, I wrote a poem. Hope you enjoy :)

The New Year

A white canvass, a blank page, a fresh start;

That’s what they told you.

The promises of the New Year.

No one mentioned this shattered heart,

This waiting for follow-through,

These doubts whispered in your ear.

The pressure’s on to make this year’s art

Something fresh, something new,

So you hide your old pieces out of fear.

None of these fragments make sense,

So resolve for something better –

An ideal you’ll abandon within weeks

Because it’s hard to whitewash a black fence.

You tighten your own fetter

Keeping tongues comfortably in cheeks.

But inside builds bitterness from no recompense.

Your eyes are just getting wetter.

Where is this resolution everyone seeks?

You lay in the wreck of what you’ve been,

Wide awake while the word lies asleep,

Feeling the weight of every mistake,

Every sorrow, every wound, every sin.

Dark colors and ragged edges you’re forced to keep,

Expected to forget how much they ache.

The blood is on your hands before you begin

And onto your canvass it will creep,

But this stain is the first step you must take.

Mosaics are made from shards

And quilts from patches

The New Year is not empty, but filled

With plaster, paint, and thread by the yards

To close up all last year’s gashes.

Don’t waste the past. Be thrilled

That your art is unfinished, by far.

Beauty still rises from ashes,

If we have the courage to build. 

Defining Success

I've been in a bit of a rut lately. My Disney College Program is over, I graduated college a year ago, and now I'm working two jobs and barely making rent, and basically have no idea what the beans I'm doing with my life. I thought I would have it figured out by now. I thought that I was going to come out to California, magically become awesome at adulting, and know exactly what I wanted to do and how to do it. But instead, I'm more confused than ever.

It's been really frustrating, honestly. I've reached the age where a lot of my peers are starting professional internships, gaining real-world experience, starting careers, getting married, and starting families. I look at their lives and then look at mine and wonder, what am I doing wrong? Why doesn't my life look like that? What am I doing with myself? Am I failing at life? They're all so successful.

But let's take a step back for a second - what does "successful" even mean?

Success
[suh k-ses]

noun
1. the favorable or prosperous termination of attempts or endeavors; the accomplishment of one's goals.

2. the attainment of wealth, position, honors, or the like.

3. a performance or achievement that is marked by success, as measured by the attainment of goals, wealth, etc.

Thanks, Dictionary. Still vague.

So, it would appear that success all boils down to achieving goals and getting money. Wow. Sounds super fulfilling in the long run. Obviously, there's a lot more to it than that. For instance, if success is measured monetarily, what's the magic number where you can sit back and say, "That's it. This is enough. I have achieved success"? Or if you measure it in goals. Do you stop after one goal? A hundred? What constitutes a goal, anyway? Does it make me successful to achieve my goal of eating an entire pint of ice cream by myself at 3 am?

Is success even attainable at all?

Truth is, I don't know. But maybe that's okay. The great thing about the idea of Success being so vague is that it gives you the power to define it. Sure, I may not have tons of money, but I'm doing things, making things, pushing myself, and interacting with the world.

I mean, if I really look at things - I moved out to California on my own, I teach voice, acting, and dancing to children, I'm a performer for one of the most iconic companies in the WORLD, I'm finally at a healthy weight, I'm in the best physical shape that I've been in since before my auto-immune diseases, I'm making friends and building community, and I keep pushing myself to go to auditions and send out resumes and figure out what my place in the world is supposed to be. I'd say I'm doing pretty okay.

And as far as my career goes, I never was one of those people who wanted the desk job with the house, kids, minivan, and shi-tzu in the suburbs. I wanted adventure in the great wide somewhere, and that's what I'm getting. It's a lot harder and scarier than I thought it would be, but I want to believe it's worth it. I don't care if I'm never rich as long as I have a rich life. Also, I'm 23. It's okay if my job doesn't have anything to do with my major right now. As long as I can find a way to do the things I love while supporting myself, I'd say I'm doing just fine. I'd probably explode from sheer boredom if I were stuck doing the same thing my entire adult life anyway.

More importantly, why does success have to be based on what you do? If success is purely quantitative, then what's to stop us all from crawling all over each other to fight our way to the top of the heap?

Almost a month ago, my grandmother passed away. She was almost 91 and had been deteriorating for about a year and a half, so of course we all knew she couldn't be around forever. Still, when she did pass, we were broken. I felt lost, knowing that my world would truly never be the same without her in it. In the days that passed, we remembered her and the beautiful impact she had in the corner of the world she occupied. Everyone remembered her for all the little ways she was constantly touching people's lives. She was a quiet servant, a problem-solver, a nurturer of life, and a fierce prayer warrior. You always knew you could come to her with anything and she would never judge you, but do whatever she could to help you. She drew joy from nourishing the body and the soul. That is why she is missed so sorely by those who loved her. It wasn't that she had an amazing career (although she did), it wasn't that she had an immaculate house and gardens (although they were always inviting), it wasn't that she had a rich husband and perfect children, but it was who she was that was so, so important.

So, more than a career, more than wealth, more than fame, more than achievements and goals and everything else, I want to be successful the way Grandma Theresa was. Believe me, those are massive shoes to fill. In her unobtrusive, subtly sassy Irish way, she made every piece of this world that she touched better for it. I want my funeral to be like hers was - a true celebration of a beautifully successful life.

Love you forever; see you soon, Grandma Theresa.

A Tribute to 2014

Oh wow. Guess it's already time for one of these again.

How about a photo montage of some eventful happenings? That sounds good. I like photo montages.

I died in my brother's arms this year! :D

Jk. We did a concert version of Les Miserables at the Tearoom in February. It was glorious. Singing amazing music with my family is one of my absolute favorite things to do.

I also had a pretty rad wedding! Complete with bottle dancers :D

Being in Fiddler on the Roof was such a wonderful experience. The director wanted everything to be as authentic as possible, so we were always learning new things about Jewish tradition and history, down to the minutest details. Even if the audience didn't catch the way married women tied their headscarves differently, we knew. I think it was all those little things that made our show so spectacular. Fiddler already held a special place in my heart after playing flute for it in the pit two years earlier, but there really is nothing like stepping into the heads of the characters and making yourself feel what they were going through, and doing that along with the rest of your cast. One thing I really appreciated was that even the small parts got a name and a purpose within the village, again, even if the audience never knew. We really did feel like one big family, and I miss all of them so terribly, and I wouldn't trade my experience with that show for anything. It was the best show I could have possibly gone out on.

My Grandma celebrated her 90th birthday! And she's still lookin' fab ;)
Along with my Grandma turning 90, she started having major health and mobility issues, so my amazing mother moved in with her to be her caretaker. It was a big change for us, but we made it work, and still made plenty of family time.

 

My very first Ballroom Dance recital!

I graduated from college and this fine fellow graduated from high school. If you'd like to know my more in-depth thoughts on the subject, please refer to The One About Graduating.

After working at the St. James Tearoom for 4 years, I finally got certified as a Tea Master! For those who don't know, that entails brewing the manager-approved "perfect pot" of each of our 52 teas, manning the tea station for a slow seating and a busy seating, taking a tea knowledge test, and giving a 10-minute TEA-ching presentation. Get it? Ha! Ha! Ha...yeah, we love our tea puns...

I was in a band! Good Old Shoulder. Check it out! (it's a video)

My beautiful and incredible friend Hannah got married! She is one of the strongest, bravest, and most loving people I have ever known.

I have THE BEST friends...

and THE BEST family, who all gave me THE BEST sendoff I could have ever asked for.

The past four months of this year have consisted of me moving out to California and participating in the Disney College Program. You can read all about it on my other blog, disnerdadventure.blogspot.com

In short, the time I've spent here has been incredible, and I've grown in so many ways, and I'm so excited to continue my career and my life here at Disney.

My first day of orientation for the Disney College Program

My wonderful, beautiful roommates.

Singing in the mass choir on Main St. USA for the Candlelight ceremony. Incredible.

Our End-of-Program Celebration

I can't believe how quickly this year went by. There was just so much life packed into it that I guess I feel like I never really got a chance to take everything in. So many huge changes have happened, good and not-so-good. I've had a lot of goodbyes - some of them forever. There have been moments where I felt entirely powerless to help the people I love most, and the only thing I could do was trust that things would turn out okay, even when I couldn't see it. I'm entering an entirely new chapter of my life called adulthood, and it's  totally awesome and completely terrifying. It's been an overwhelming year, to say the least. But you know what? I've come out of all of it okay. More than okay. I've come out stronger.

I have no idea what this next year holds, but if I can get through this past year, I can get through anything. But, another thing this year has taught me is that my strength cannot come from me alone. I need people. And I have realized this year more than ever before what a truly amazing support system I have, both in New Mexico and out here. All the times I've tried to shoulder my burdens on my own, it's turned out disastrous. When I try to sort things out on my own, I internalize everything and only end up hurting myself. That's when my friends and family come alongside me and remind me that no one is alone, and that change, grief, anger, uncertainty, concern, and fear are easier to carry and overcome when someone is there to help you through it. I want to extend my sincerest thanks to each and every brilliant person who has shared this year with me, and I hope to share so many more memories with all of you. I want to laugh, cry, scream, and share those beautifully indescribable moments of silence. I want to have life, and have it abundantly.

So, thanks, 2014, for all you taught me, and here's to a fantastically terrifying and wonderful 2015. See you on the other side.

California According to a New Mexican

Hello there, friends! It's been a while! As some of you are aware, I recently moved from Albuquerque, New Mexico, to Anaheim, California to work at the Disneyland Resort in Cast Costuming (which you can read all about on my other blog, here).

I've been here for about 2 1/2 months now, and I've made a few observations in that time period. Here are a few of them:


The Views




Umm, wow. There's really nothing like watching the sunset over the Pacific ocean here. It's spectacularly beautiful. But, unless you drive out to the beach, this is more like what you see...



You usually can't see very far at all, whereas, in New Mexico...



Miles and miles and miles of open space! And I do find myself missing that. Plus...



You can't see stars out at night in the city in California :c



They Don't Drought Like We Drought.



New Mexico knows it's a desert. We're nearly always in a drought. When you go hiking, the fire danger is usually "extreme," or, if there's snow on the ground or something, it goes down to "very high." Therefore, a typical New Mexican front yard will consist of tons of crushed rock and a few cacti, maybe a tree. Backyards are usually dirt and weeds, or bermuda grass which is ridiculously hardy.

Californians, on the other hand, love their tropical plants. There is really only one species of palm tree native to California, but all kinds of them are everywhere. That, along with all kinds of tropical flowering plants, plants with huge leaves, and succulents adorn most California yards. They also mostly have lawns, and you hardly ever see yards made up of crushed rock. California knows it's in a drought and gives PSAs over the radio telling people to get rid of their water-sucking plants, but nobody really seems to take it to heart, and California likes to keep pretending that it's actually a tropical paradise rather than a desert, which is a little bit distressing :/



Their Autumn is not Our Autumn.



It's November, and it just barely got down to 65 degrees, and is supposed to go back up to the 80s later this week, and everything is still very very green here. I believe that in California, the only way anyone can know it's supposed to be Autumn is by putting Pumpkin Spice on everything. Seriously, it's kinda creepy. I've seen Pumpkin Spice on the weirdest things here, from potato chips, to pasta sauce, to salsa. Now, I'm a fan of pumpkin and everything, and I never thought I'd say this, but that is just taking things way too far. Calm down, people.

And, while we're on the subject of Autumn...


Californians Have No Concept of Balloon Fiesta.



In October, I had trouble explaining to my co-workers why I was in such a bummed out mood because I was missing one of the best things that ever happens in New Mexico.

"Yeah! It's great! You get up crazy stupid early, way before the sun is out, then go work really hard and frantically drag out all the very heavy parts of the hot air balloon until it is inflated alongside hundreds of other hot air balloons, then you watch them all float up into the sky, then go chase it in a truck, then even more frantically deflate it and put it away into the trailer and come back to the field and chill with the other pilots - it's great! Really! You also get burritos!"

And, speaking of Balloon Fiesta...


Traffic.



They weren't kidding when they said L.A. traffic is awful. It's like Balloon Fiesta traffic, but all the time. And drivers are psycho, but at least they're self-aware of their psychotic driving tendencies, as opposed to Santa Fe drivers who just create their own free-spirited traffic rules in their hippie minds and give you a friendly wave as they cut across 3 lanes right in front of you because they suddenly felt like turning right instead of left because the flow of the universe told them to.


Albuquerque is Tiny.


  

Albuquerque is the largest city in New Mexico. We like to think of ourselves as a burgeoning metropolis. Now, look at the freeways. We have two in Albuquerque. Two. And we call the intersection of these two main freeways of the entire state of New Mexico "The Big I." We don't even have carpool lanes in New Mexico because we don't have enough people living in New Mexico to need them.

Living here and trying to navigate the millions of freeways and suburbs the size of Albuquerque or larger has been making me realize just how tiny Albuquerque actually is.

Also, side note, it feels strange referring to freeways as "the 5" or "the 57," because everyone in New Mexico says "I-25" and "I-40." Which is also the one thing that really bothers me about Breaking Bad, because they say "the 40." Which also brings me to my next point...


Differing Vernacular.



New Mexicans have a habit of using the word "all" as an intensifier, i.e. "Dude! That was all sick!" In California, I have never once heard "all" used that way, and it is replaced by the term, "hella."

They also frequently refer to each other as "brah."

Also, nobody knows what the beans you mean when you say "arroyo" or "acequia." Apparently they just call them "ditches" or "washes."


An arroyo.

  
Acequia = mini arroyo = irrigation ditch


And, my final and quintessentially New Mexican point:


Green Chile: They know what it is, but they don't know.



Surprisingly enough, a lot of people here have at least heard of green chile, and know that it's not the same thing as jalapenos. You can even find canned Hatch green chile in some supermarkets, although most of it is either mild or medium, which, as any true New Mexican knows is entirely pointless and may as well be wet lettuce. But, I have found one store that sells HOT Sadie's, so I have been sustaining myself on that.

Californians do not understand the wonders that green chile has to offer. They've maybe tried it in salsa, or in enchiladas or something, but they have no idea that they've only barely scratched the surface. You can't order green chile on burgers or pizza here, and when you suggest the notion, people look at you like you're crazy. They praise In-n-Out burger, which, admittedly is not half bad, but though they deliciously grill their onions, they are sadly behind Blake's Lottaburger and their grilled green chile burgers.

To a New Mexican, green chile is not merely a condiment, it is a way of life, and Californians will never quite be able to understand.


Okay, I lied, that's not quite my final point...

Both Places Have Their Charm.

 

Though I do find myself missing New Mexico and all its wonderful idiosyncrasies, I'm really happy to be here. I have countless beautiful and fantastic memories in New Mexico, and so many dear friends and people who have impacted my life, without whom I would not be the person I am today. But, being here in this new, strange, huge place, I feel like I'm where I need to be at this point in my life. I have no idea how long I'll stay here or if I'll eventually come back to New Mexico. But, as a recent graduate from UNM in creative writing, there are so many more opportunities for me to grow and explore and expand my horizons out here, particularly if I choose to stay with Disney. It's definitely been scary and challenging starting this entirely new journey and phase of my life, but I feel like it was time for this. Time for me to break out of my comfort zone, literally and figuratively, and truly discover what I can do. Though I still don't know exactly where all this will lead, I'm so glad to finally be out on my adventure in the great wide somewhere.

Ellie! There's a turtle in the street!

Apparently, that's the surefire phrase guaranteed to get me out of the house. A week ago, I was sitting around my house when my little brother came rushing in with the news. I thought it was a little odd that he had just left the poor thing in the street, but I didn't have much time to analyze it before a red sheet was thrown over my head, and a pseudo-gruff voice on the verge of laughter demanded, "Where's the piece of resistance!"

It had been a desire of my friend Lydia to be pranked at some point in her life. So, the night before, I and a couple of her other good friends had taken it upon ourselves to stuff her jeep with balloons during a farewell concert I was playing in. It was a fantastic concert, by the way. Well, Lydia was quite surprised and delighted by the balloons, some with funny faces drawn on them, others filled with puns and cheesy pickup lines.

Unbeknownst to, well, prettymuch anybody, it had been a desire of mine to be kidnapped by my friends to go do something fun. And that's exactly what Lydia and my brother did the day after the concert and balloon pranking. I was absolutely thrilled! We went to dinner and then saw a fun movie together, and I was so happy to be having some fun time with my best buds before my impending move out to California. But, as we drove home from the movie theater, I started feeling sad because I knew I would have to say goodbye soon. I'm not good at goodbyes. I never know what to say or how to act when it's not quite time to say the final farewell but you know it's about to happen. I usually just get really quiet and then feel terrible for not taking advantage of the last moments of talking. So most of the car ride back home was spent in relative silence on my part.

My friends are really, really sneaky.

As we pulled up in front of my house, I steeled myself, determined that I would not cry at my parting with Lydia. We said our sappy encouraging speeches and hugged enthusiastically, then Lydia said she'd probably get in her car and cry and I half-angrily and half-laughing disagreed, as that would make me cry. Lydia drove away, and I walked in a melancholy way up to my front door and waited for Jonathan to unlock it. By this point, I was getting ready to just go in my room and be melancholy the rest of the night, thinking about how I wished I just had a little more time with my dearest friends.

But as the door opened, I noticed something strange - the living room was clean. Remarkably clean. Clearly, something was afoot.

And thus, the tearful feels-fest began.

My thoroughly amazing mother had organized a surprise-birthday-going-away-moon-themed tea party with some of the very best of my lady friends.

When I first walked into the backyard, I saw that there were gorgeous lights strung up - I assumed my family had arranged to have an early birthday celebration or something. Then, my friends sprang out from behind tables and chairs and yelled "Surprise!!!" and I was immediately reduced to a puddle of emotion. People then thought it appropriate to rush me with hugs, as seen in the photos above.

Seriously, these photos don't even begin to do the event justice. The weather was absolutely perfect, just a few clouds in the sky to set off the moonlight, crickets lightly but not obnoxiously chirping, twinkle lights and paper lanterns to mimic the moon and stars all around the back yard, and beautiful old china and old-fashioned oil lamps decking the tables. My mom had spent the entire day cooking a menu of fabulous gluten-free tea treats, including quiche with all my favorite things (bacon, goat cheese, and sun-dried tomatoes). To set it all off, my mom and brother had put together a playlist of moon-themed and favorite songs of mine, ranging from Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra, to Chopin, Ravel, and Vaughan Williams, even Treasure Planet, Bon Iver, and Sleeping At Last. Many of the songs made me tear up - not just because of the song itself, although many are that emotionally stirring, but because I knew how much thought had gone into the choosing of the songs on the part of my mom and brother. It just highlighted the way they both know me so well, and how much I'm going to miss them.

All of this, and surrounded by the people I love most. It was truly magical.

The lovely tea-makers and servers, Kate and Melia

Some of my favorite hooligans, Katie, August, Hollen, and Rachel

The sneaky, sneaky Lydia, plus darlings Nikki and Heather

Musician buddy Anna, intrepid market ladies Rachel and Sam, and General Fun (aka Lorien)

Even Grandma came out to enjoy the festivities!

One very, very blessed girl who misses you all terribly

In short, the night was spectacular. It was filled with delicious tea, sumptuous snacks, lovely conversation, and lots of laughs. There was even one moment when we were all sitting around one table, and we just stopped because a particularly poignant Sleeping At Last song called "In The Embers" was playing (yes, I know I only talk about SAL on this blog. Shush.). I just looked at Rachel (who also loves the band quite a lot) and we started tearing up. Then, everybody just sat and listened.

"Like fireworks we pull apart the dark -
Compete against the stars with all of our hearts,
Til our temporary brilliance turns to ash,
We pull apart the darkness while we can"

It was a perfectly-timed and beautiful reassurance for me. That's what my friends were all doing there in the glow of the moonlight - pulling apart the sadness of parting and enjoying the light of friendship. It also served as a reminder of why I'm striking out on this crazy adventure. Even though I'm going away and leaving a lot behind, I'm doing it for a purpose. Maybe a purpose that I can't completely see yet, but while I'm here, I want to pull apart the darkness while I can, and never forget all the beautiful people who light up my life wherever they happen to be on the globe.