Debriefing vs. Processing

So, I'm back. I have been for about a week. And I've jumped right back into the LaVida world.

Last night in La Vida training,
we learned about the difference between debriefing and process (most of us didn't know there was a difference). Apparanetly, debriefing is the post- experience talking you do that addresses what exactly happened and sometimes, how you feel about it. Processing is when you talk about how you will transfer whatever you learned from the wilderness in the real world. This is valuable knowledge for me at this point because I can see that distinction in my thinking about the past year.

I am definitely still in the "debriefing" phase of my thought process. I'm trying to transition into the processing- to understand what my experiences in Romania will mean for my life here. But that process is overwhelming, so I only take little baby steps into the processing realm and then run back into my debriefing safemode.
And for now, I think that's ok.

Travelin' Tunes

So, very soon I'll be leaving my home in Romania and taking the long trip to my real home. This is my going home mix. Some of the songs are here for obvious reasons. Some are hilarious. Some seem unrelated, but mean a lot to me. Some are cliche. Get over it.

1. Rosie Thomas//One More Day- as if I could make a mix without Rosie.
2. Beatles//In My Life- Because no matter where I go in the world, Romania will always be special.
3. Simon and Garfunkel// Homeward Bound- i.love.this.song. (and i love S&G)
4. Jake Armerding//Peace of Mind- this is a love song using all streets in Boston as lyrics. clever.
5. Matt Pond PA//New Hampshire- duh.
6. JT//Sweet Baby James- i have listened to this song everytime i have driven on the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston
7. Joni Mitchell//Chelsea Morning- everytime I drive into Boston i take a wrong turn and end up in Chelsea. oh yeah, and i love joni too.
8. Standells/Dity Water- oh. boston, you're my home.
9. Big D and the Kid's Table// New England- skatastic. seriously, google it.
10. Augustana//Boston- yep. cliche. i'm ok with that.
11. Michael Buble//I wanna go home- special because a dear friend sent it
12. Dar Williams//Closer to Me- another personal one.
13. Patty Griffin//Long Ride Home- i'm aware this is about a funeral, but i'll be thinking about a lot on that loooong ride home
14. Indigo Girls//Homeward Bound- yeah, it's on here twice. i couldn't decide between S&G and this brilliant cover
15. Wailin Jennys// Beautiful Dawn- another song very close to my heart at this time, for a lot of reasons...I feel like every line pertains to this trip in a different way

"take me where the ocean meets the sky and the land"...here i come.

Just a few numbers to sum up my past year:
12 months spent 4583 miles from home, living with a total of 22 roommates from 4 countries. Hosted 21 American college students. 7 countries visited. 28 passport stamps. 278 hours on trains, 33 hours on planes, 25 minutes driving a car.

7,648 pages of 33 books read. 48 calls from home, and 1 from Hausman. 134 emails saved in my "keeping in touch" folder. 31 pieces of mail received including 2 Stillpoints, costing $4.04 in postage. 56 blog posts. 2,838 photos taken. 3 avocadoes discovered at the grocery store. 1 church service in my native tongue. 10 items checked off my list of things to do in my life. 7 days left.

Thoughtful Thursday: Christian Conversation on Communism
*Disclaimer: I am not an expert on Communism, or Christianity for that matter. These thoughts are the scattered result of my experiences here. Please check my facts for yourself.*

BBC says that Romania is a "slower developer" than other Soviet Bloc countries, and I'm in the least developed area of Romania. For this reason, I have had the privilege to go back in time and see the results of Communism on these people. This place looks much as it did 20 years ago- concrete everything, smokestacks jutting into the sky...some days the oppression can be felt in the smog filled air. I have listened to the stories of my friends experiences in the mines, the Secret Police, watching their brilliant educated parents be forced to work manual labor. In Romania, Communism meant fear, and assimilation, and numbness.

I'm not saying I don't see the flaws of Capitalism. The wealth gap, in America especially, disgusts me. The idea of a classless society is heaven to me. Even my current hero, Dorothy Day, at one time found Communists to be more socially relevant than the Christians she encountered. And I too see much of American Christianity as "a world apart, a people within a people, making little impression on the tremendous (non-Christian) population of the country". I have encountered too many opiated conservatives, too many people who think the abundant life means a white fence, short commute and 2.5 bathrooms.

So what's wrong with communism? You ask. Didn't Jesus encourage it, and the early Church exemplify it?
my answer: not exactly. You probably know that community is one of my most fervent passions. You also probably know what a word freak i am, and the fact that Communism and community are so closely related etymologically is not lost on me.

I've studied the doctrine of the Trinity A LOT here, since my director is writing his Doctorate on it and its implications for community development. Here's my understanding in a nutshell: There are three distinctive and unique beings in one distinctive whole. They are fully and completely one and yet they still retain their individuality. Dana purports that this is the model for true Christian community- everyone is wholly and distinctively themselves, and yet one. Communism couldn't afford anyone to retain their individuality. The whole system rested on the ability of the comrades to become identical- without distinctive traits. Take a look at communist sculptures- it totally embues this ideal. Communism sought not to create a society of equal individuals, but faceless workers. And the effects I can see around me are heartbreaking.

The saddest Communist story I can remember hearing here was about a town in Transylvania, known for it's tremendous culture. Before the Communist regime, it was one of the few towns where ethnic Romanians and Hungarians lived in tranquility together. It did this not by ignoring the differences, but by celebrating the culture and traditions of each ethnicity. The Communist regime feared the individuality of the citizens and so they flooded the town. Seriously, the village was in a valley and they filled it with water. Nowadays one can go there and the only sign of the underwater village is the steeple of the church jutting out of the bog. This is such a metaphor in my mind of the methods of Communists here in Romania: flood all that is rich and unique with greyness and concrete.

I suppose that is where my thoughts end for now. If you have a different opinion/experience/take (or if you feel i have misrepresented facts) please continue the conversation by leaving me your email in the comments section.

Isn't it ironic??
Like rain on your wedding day, is your favorite ice cream flavor on the first day of Lent. Yep, yesterday I went searching for Fruit of the Forest Ice Cream- what would have been my last taste of it. But it was nowhere to be found. I settled for a mediocre hazelnut milk shake. And then, today, right in my neighborhood Supermarket, enough FoF Ice Cream to make me ill. Oh well. What a cruel world.

That's right, today is my first day of Lent. This may confuse you since many of my readers will have been fasting for weeks by now. You see, this year, Orthodox Easter comes almost a month after Protestant Easter. So I realized a while ago that I will not be home in time for protestant Easter and I will leave before Orthodox (Romanian) Easter. Not wanting to miss out on the most important holiday of the church year, I decided that celebrating Orthodox Easter in America is preferable to celebrating Protestant Easter all by myself.

After that decision was made, there was the usual pre-Lent ponderings. What to give up? Why do I even fast? How to explain it all to my less traditional friends/family? Well, I decided if I'm going to celebrate with the Orthodox, I will prepare with the Orthodox. Which meeans 40 days of meatless, dairy free, non-alcoholic meditation. This is going to be tough, especially when I return to celebratory post-Easter America. But I am going to try. And aside from all things spiritual, I don't think it will be a bad thing to return to indulgent America in a spirit of self-denial and restraint. Just because so much more is available doesn't mean I should consume everything in sight. So the celebratory lattes and Long Trails will have to wait until April 28. I hope you'll understand.

I like to make lists. and with my impending transition, I've been making lists of things I'm looking forward to, and things I'll miss sorely. Here are some examples: (by the way, friends and family are obvious in both categories)

Things I'm looking forward to: LIVE MUSIC. church in English. the Atlantic Ocean crashing against rocks. driving- window down, radio blasting, singing like an idiot. my house/bedroom/the woods behind it. anonymity- not being and Americani celebrity. dressing up. gordon ropes course. funny text messages and voicemails. running. return policies. going out for breakfast.
food: mexican, smoothies, salad, DD, fresh ice cream, dr pepper.

Things I'm going to miss: creativity (i started to really be more open to artisticness here- i write and paint often). mountains from my window. the slower pace. my church. poverty in my face. the language. wildflowers. the open market. folk traditions and dancing. the simplicity of relationships. the simplicity of faith. walking everywhere. sleeping in. reading. everyday being an adventure.
food: cheap, good WINE. apa minerala. good fresh bread. anything flavored Fruit of the Forest, especially ice cream. fresh mushrooms.

The Joys and Miseries of Travel

This past week, I took a much needed vacation. I hopped on a train and, overnight, went to Pague where I met up with a friend from Gordon. Prague was as beautiful as I imagined, and the weather even better. It was so great to see my friend Dan again. He's also from New Hampshire and our common backgrounds as well as the fact that we are both living in Europe right now made for much animated conversation. I haven't laughed that much in a long time. In Prague we also hung out with a lovely British girl who complemented us perfectly. After three wonderful days in Prague it was off to Krakow, Poland. Dan and I arrived early after not sleeping all night and took naps. When we awoke, we were sharing a room with a really fun Quebecquois guy, who would join us on daytrips to amazing salt mines and sobering Auschwitz. Auschwitz was surreal, and gave me a few new insights that will frame my thoughts of the holocaust. I think anyone who wants to teach WW2 should see it.

The next day, Dan left and i spent a day wandering Krakow in the rain, and then hunkered down until my flight in the morning, which is where the real adventure begins. First off, my ticket said my airport was Krakow-Katovice...i assumed this was one place, like Boston-Logan. Nope. I went to the wrong one, an hour away. That was an expensive taxi, but couldve been worse, and i made my flight. But then my baggage took so long after the first flight that i missed the second one back to Bucharest, and the only flight i could change to with just the change fee was today at 6 am. I was stuck in Rome with no euros, over budget, and no place to stay. Janelle did some research and found a flight that left in 2 hours, but it was at Fiumincino and I was at Ciampino with no clue. I asked a few people how to get to Fiumincino and got a different answer everytime. By now, im exhausted, starving, and (im ashamed to stay) starting to cry. Then this girl, who i had asked earlier about Fiumincino, tells me to come with her now. No other choice, I race off with her, get on an empty bus with a sympathetic looking bus driver about my age. At this point the tears were just streaming. He drove us to a train station where the girl dashed off and i had to chase after her as fast as i could with my backpack. She put me on a train and said not to speak any Italian if a conductor came. This train took me to the main station where I got a train to Fiumincino, after calling Janelle to have her book the new flight.

I made it to Fiumincino with time to spare, and when I found my check in gate, it was obviously for Romania. There was no line, just clumps of pushing people holding crying babies and large plaid plastic bags. It was a comforting sight. I checked in and found out i was the only non Romanian on the flight. The flight was fine, although no one apparently understood the whole landing turbelance thing, since they would all get up and open the luggage hatches just as we were touching down, and things and people flew everywhere. Off the plane, to Passport Control. Two lanes for EU Citizens, one for me. Except the Romanians weren't about to pay attention to signs, so they pushed their way up to it, to get yelled at. I found my way to my lane and waited in front of the sign that says by law you must stay behind it (in Romanian). Everyone couldn't understand why i was waiting, so they all started collectively pushing me. After checking in (finally used my Alien card) I retrieved my backpack, which was mysteriously wet. At this point i didn't care. By now I had missed all the trains to Lupeni, so I had to stay with a stranger, a friend of a friend, who proved to be a great and helpful host.

My bus to Lupeni left at 8:30 am, and I had directions from my host. But I don't know where to get metro tickets in his section of town, and nothing opened in time for me to catch my bus anyways. So I crossed myself and got on a metro, hoping to pay when I got on (not unheard of) By the way, at this point, im on five hours of restless sleep and haven't had a meal in 24 hours. The second I get on the metro, a ticket controller pops up next to me. I ask if I can buy a ticket from her because I didn't know where to buy one. She doesn't believe me and a confused discussion goes on, with much repeating and frustration. It ends with her taking my alien card and telling me to sit down. I do, and then she pockets my card and tells me to get off to buy a ticket. I still don't know where and if she thinks this is a viable option for me, i don't see eye to eye. I'm not leaving my alien card, and if I lose any time, I'll miss my train home again. So again, the tears start to well up in my eyes. And of course every person on the bus is staring. And then this old man pushes his way through and gives me his ticket. I cry more now, out of exhaustion and gratitude. After that, the rest of the trip was fine, and my little city was the best sight for sore eyes today. I love how traveling makes Lupeni feel so much more like home!