i.miss.you.Camden.

things I will miss about Camden (in no particular order, and absolutely incomplete):

- walking the four blocks between my house and St. Anthony's every day, several times each way

- guys who lean out their pickup truck windows as they pass me on the street and shout out "God bless you, sweetheart!"

- ladies who sit on their front porch steps and greet me as i walk by with a "hey sweetie, how you doin?"

- little kids from my music classes and Peace Art program who yell and wave at me from their yards, "hi Miss Anna!"

- fresh garden vegetables from our backyard and from our plot in Brother Jerry's Garden across from the church and from the Mt. Ephraim produce stand

- Mexican rice and beans...Puerto Rican rice and beans...Dominican rice and beans...

- Marta's tamales, hot chocolate, and other refreshing drinks...

- anything baked or brewed or fondued by Father John

- living 5 minutes from Rita's Water Ice

- living 7 minutes from the Pennsauken Library

- yes, the view of the Philadelphia skyline is quite nice, but i wouldn't say it's the best thing about Camden as some have sarcastically stated. i'll just say it's nice.

- and so is the bridge between Camden and Philadelphia, which i will miss trekking across every so often

- living two blocks from a mural that i helped in the process of creation and celebration, which is literally a concrete testimony to how a community can live out peace and restore its streets to safety and beauty by taking care of ourselves, each other, and the earth, and a call to this community to step up and do that

- being able to sit with one of my ESL students after class and hear her story of seeing her mother and brother shot in front of her eyes in El Salvador, and of living in fear and wanting a better life for her children, and coming here to Camden and having her house broken into and herself held up at gunpoint for what little cash she had on hand, and then a few months ago breaking her foot and just the other day finding out that there's some bones out of place in it that the doctor can't fix (not sure if it's an impossibility issue or a money issue), but either way she might just always walk with a major limp...pray for 'Maria', por favor

- collaborating with CCOP and our local organizing committee to make a difference in the neighborhood with the numerous abandoned houses and the hazardous activities in the park

- weekly prayer and fun and everyday life with my housemates...always eye-opening experiences and conversations

- having the keys and knowing the tricks to open every door at the church, the friary, Francis House, Clare House..

- semi-weekly trips to the Treehouse coffee shop

- deejaying Eddie's concerts in the Francis House chapel, listening and watching his passionate, love-filled performances of Michael Jackson, Barry White, the Temptations, Earth Wind & Fire, Teddy Pendergrass, and more...telling his story of how he's survived growing up in Camden and living over three decades with HIV/AIDS, and watching the audiences' eyes widen at what a miracle this 'man in the mirror' is...

- planning and leading creative, interactive prayer services at Francis House and seeing the motto "Love Heals" lived out in our midst

- every prayer circle before every meal at Francis House, joining hands taking deep breaths, shouting out prayer requests, bowing our heads as a family and proclaiming together, "God, grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. God's will, not ours, be done. Amen amen!"

- Tuesday evening prayer with the friars, reading from the daily Office, especially the Franciscan prayer for vocations, "God, help us to be people of prayer after the example of Francis and Clare. May our lives of prayer be our source of strength in serving the people of God."

- Tuesday evening dinner with the friars, cooked by Sue!

- the beautiful holistic multicultural prayer that is mass at St. Anthony's

- the First Baptist Church of Moorestown with their welcoming embrace to me as a new member

- lunches and spiritual food with Rene

- going on trips to Georgia and Washington DC to advocate for peace and justice with Father Jud

- going on trips to Lancaster and NYC and Long Beach Island to refresh our bodies and spirits with Father John

- coming home to Camden. knowing that I have a home there.

goodbye for now, Camden. i love you.

peace art: endings and beginnings

goodbyes and all sorts of little finish lines are starting to rain down from that dark cloud called 'the end of Anna's year in Camden'. the final session of the Camden Peace Art Project was held on Monday. St. Anthony of Padua school ended Tuesday, so no more Friday morning music classes with the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders. only a few weeks left until Francis House and ESL finish up.

and yet little seeds of new beginnings have sprouted from the same ground that tears up sometimes to think of leaving. the Peace Art mural unveiling and community rally was the first public action that i have had a hand (and a good chunk of my mind and heart invested, too) in actually organizing and emceeing!! rather than just participating or attending. possibly the beginning of a beautiful friendship, me and my buddy community organizing...i loved it! numbers in attendance were a little disappointing, because it was a weekday afternoon when a lot of people were still at work, and only a half day of school at St. Anthony's so we lost a lot of parents and kids who might have been there otherwise. but the message came through strong and clear, and apparently a few people thought it was worth listening to. !!!

the Philadelphia Inquirer ran an article on the front page of their South Jersey/B section;

the Catholic Star Herald gave us a pretty good review, too;

the Courier Post posted a series of photos here;

more photos can be found on the St. Anthony's Flickr photostream;

and there's a fantastic video on facebook that my boss, Katie Sullivan, program director of FVM, put together..don't think i can link to it, though..

so, Monday's celebration marked the culmination of our work, but only the beginning of the LOC's work to take back our park. we have to follow up with the city police who have put forth their intention of cooperation...we have to cuss out (politely) the county police and county parks management who assured us of their attendance and then called our organizer 20 minutes before the event and cancelled..because they're getting millions of dollars to put into renovating two waterfront parks...why would they care to come to an event that's trying to restore a little place in Cramer Hill? a little place with a big purpose, big needs, and big heart, which they obviously don't understand.

it's evident from the mural itself that this place is ready for new beginnings: the garden being tended, a kid being coached in baseball, a family posing in front of a sunrise, butterflies floating in the clouds, people holding hands around a beautiful tree...and these are not just pretty pictures, but these are the things that were 'won' from this process so far:

- Camden City Police Chief Thomson and representatives from the Mayor Redd office came together to publicly commit to keeping Von Nieda Park safe and clean.

- Camden City Police created bilingual flyers for the first time explaining illegal activities and fines in the park.

- Camden City Police will begin enforcing parking, littering, and public drinking ordinances in Von Nieda Park the weekend of July 10th, after a community relations campaign.

- Camden City Police impounded over 15 ATVs since the action County Parks Dept put up 10 new “No Parking/No Drinking/No Littering” signs around the park.

-Camden City Council passed an ordinance making parking illegal on the west side of 29th Street, where it has often been a hazardously congested area.

it's exciting that we have these commitments and possibilities, but i do confess my sadness that i won't be around for the next year to see it unfold...because, as some of you readers probably already know through different channels, i will be living in Belgrade, Serbia starting in mid-August! i'm excited to see what kind of mixture of darkness and light will be shed on my life there..and what kind of light and shadows i will be called to share...

dear friends, may we all take up our paintbrushes or pens or cameras or baseballs or soccer balls or whatever instruments of creativity and influence we are blessed to be able to use, and follow through on the call within us to care for the people around us.

peace art: insanity today. please pray. with a smile :)

Camden Peace Art Project has been working since the beginning of May with a local artist and our kids as well as kids from the Cramer Hill Little League to design and paint a community mural on the baseball building in our neighborhood park. This park has a reputation as a place where numerous drug deals happen daily, public drinking gets out of hand every weekend, hazardous parking and illegal vending and littering is rampant, and reckless ATV drivers endanger the people who come to enjoy the playground and sports fields.

So, we have taken this opportunity to collaborate with our church and local organizing committee and nearby residents to get a commitment from the city and county police that they will be more proactive in patrolling and enforcing the rules of the park so that we can preserve this community treasure as a safe, clean, and fun place for families to come. I have spent many hours this past week painting alongside the artist and kids of all ages, because TODAY, June 21, at 3:30 pm is the mural unveiling celebration and public rally.

It is already getting some attention, because a number of city officials and police representatives have agreed to come out and make a public commitment to taking action on these problems. Prayers are much needed for the success of this event and for continued cooperation of everyone to care for the park and to restore our streets.

This is the prayer on our hearts as organizers, from Isaiah 58:11-12,

"The LORD will guide you always;

he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land

and will strengthen your frame.

You will be like a well-watered garden,

like a spring whose waters never fail.

Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins

and will raise up the age-old foundations;

you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,

Restorer of Streets with Dwellings."

La paz y el arte, amigos :)

i.saw.Jesus.getting.his.fingernails.cut

and his time-worn face of love and struggle was reflected just as much in the face of the young lady who was wielding the fingernail clippers.

i won't give too many details, but just think, what if you had a stroke? and you were left without mobility in your left arm and leg? and without a job or the ability to get yourself to the grocery store or even across the street to buy a Pepsi? and you had to move to a more run-down house because you couldn't make the mortgage payments on yours anymore? and your family mostly ignored you and your only friends were the dog and the 6 or 7 cats you kept around the house for company? and your wheelchair started falling apart? and it started getting harder and harder to pay for electricity and food and even the water bill? and you've got these new young neighbors who stop by sometimes to chat and help you with yardwork and house projects and play with your cats and even give you some bakery bread and garden vegetables and other food surplus sometimes - but what if you still knew you might not be able to pay your bills? might not be able to buy food? might be evicted from your house? would you still be able to crack jokes? would you trust your new friends to help you find a social worker and some solutions? would you still want to live?

sometimes, our neighbor tells us, he doesn't.

and we don't exactly know what to do with that, except to keep going back. keep trying to make his life a little more livable, and keep trying to re-convince him that his life is worth living.

many images flicker across my memory-reel of these past few months, in and out of his house, hanging out on his porch, taking out his trash... many mischievous smiles and riotous laughs, many cat-teasing tricks and tender cat-cuddling moments, many half-hidden winces of struggle in moving from chair to door to stairs...

but the image that sticks is of Jesus getting his fingernails cut. and Jesus gently, determinedly cutting them. one smooth, coffee-colored, female face. one wrinkled, pale peach cream-colored, male face. both lit up when his stereo started belting out "Stand By Me". one light. one love. just one story, one rhythm among the riot of beats on these city streets.

will you join me in one prayer for this one precious life?

peace art: journey to an endangered garden

one lesson i've learned so far at St. Anthony's is that a family-inclusive, weekend field trip is always a tricky thing...as much as you send letters home, ask for permission slips by a certain date, and call parents to confirm that they understand what's going on, you STILL never know if the people who signed up will actually come or not, or if they'll show up with extra parents, step-parents, cousins, older siblings, babies... yes, we encountered all of these last Saturday when we offered free admission to the Camden Children's Garden for 30...well, that was our original, optomistic goal but it turned out to be OVER 70/SEVENTY/SETENTA children and family members.

Miss N. and I had our hands full and our brains on bilingual overload trying to coordinate this unexpectedly gigantic group of mostly-Spanish-speakers. we knew it was going to be crazy, from the first moment of loading them on the bus, getting lost on the way there, arriving and unloading and meeting some families who drove directly to the garden, gathering them together outside the gates, assigning small groups of kids to chaperones, getting a final head count, buying the extra tickets, explaining the details of the day, handing out the maps and tokens for various attractions around the park, plus the disposable cameras so that each child could take some 'artistic shots' of things that interested them. and then finding out that we forgot to count one group in that 'final count', so going back in to the office to buy their tickets and hand them their materials... what a relief once they were all finally waved through the gates and set free to roam around on their own (with their chaperones at all times, of course! right? well...lucky for us, the Children's Garden staff seemed to all be looking the other way when some of them started wandering without their assigned adults!)

after all of that initial craziness, as Miss N. and i found some shade in a somewhat 'hidden' corner of the garden to sit and breathe in, we just had to marvel at how somehow, there were almost eighty people enjoying this little haven of the worlds of nature and art and education and pure fun all blended together - people who otherwise couldn't necessarily afford such an experience for their whole families.

once we caught our breath enough to start walking around, we saw some kids learning how to transfer plants into pots; some kids sticking their hands in compost and finding worm friends; some kids riding a train through a garden; some wandering through the butterfly greenhouse; some hiding in dinosaur eggs; some creating collages from recycled materials; crawling through rock tunnels and hopping on log stepping stones in the 'fitness garden'; riding the garden carousel; playing hide-and-seek in an 'underground maze'; hanging out in a treehouse; licking popsicles in Peace Plaza; and snapping plenty of pictures everywhere they went.

it was a beautiful day, and a beautiful sight to see not only the wonders of this garden designedfor children, but even more exciting than that, to see the garden of children growing, exploring, discovering, right before our eyes.

and here, here is a glimpse for your eyes to see...

this place is Camden's hidden treasure...not always accessible to the most hardpressed families, but still there and trying its best to stay affordable, and still providing seeds, starter plants, lime, fertilizer, and gardening advice and support to hundreds of community gardeners around the city. the Camden Children's Garden has been serving the community for 26 years as a non-profit organization with funding from the state of New Jersey, fully matched by private donations and grants. the agreement with the state is such that the state is supposed to reimburse the Children's Garden for funds already spent, in three installments throughout the year. they received the first reimbursement last fall, and were supposed to receive the second one in February, but instead received a letter from the state in March saying that they would not receive any more payment.

WHATTTT are they thinking???? has anyone who controls that state money ever SEEN the Children's Garden or the children growing in it and because of it??? have they ever even driven through a corner of Camden to see the difference between the thousands of trash-strewn abandoned lots vs. the ones the Garden has helped rehabilitate into flourishing sites of urban agriculture that are helping to address hunger, obesity, and food security in one of the poorest cities in the country??? have they ever talked to any of the 7000 city residents who have taken part in the community gardening program just this year, or any of the 15 at-risk youth who have been employed each year in their job and leadership training program??? how can the Governor honor the Garden with a Community Hero Award at his inauguration in January 2010 and then yank their funding RETROACTIVELY less than a month later???

what do they expect the Garden to do? they can't just take back all the salaries that were paid to their employees' bank accounts; they can't just yank thousands of vegetables and greens and flowers out of hundreds of gardens around the city; they can't just go back and erase all their operating expenses for the past six months, for which they were promised reimbursement.

here's the real rundown if you're interested in a more technical account of the situation, or if you're interested in calling or writing the Governor's office on behalf of the Garden...por favor!!!http://www.njsacc.org/wordpress/?p=3872

paz y bien

peace art: welcome to the mural capital of the world

sometimes i've heard Camden described as the armpit of Philadelphia. well, if we're the armpit, and Philly is an arm, then it is an arm covered in the creations of a multitude of collaborative tattoo artists.

um, WHAT?? in other words, the city is a larger-than-life artistic playground, with sides of buildings serving as the canvases, and cooperating groups of kids, youth, seasoned painters, sculptors, mosaic makers, state penitentiary prisoners, homeless men and women, historians, musicians, physicians, maybe even politicians, students, social workers, photographers, families and whole communities, all participants in the process of designing and painting and putting these in place.

we held our first Family Saturday field trip today, which entailed loading 35 kids, parents/guardians, and Miss N. and I onto a chartered school bus, crossing the Ben Franklin Bridge into Philadelphia (it was the first time for 3 of the kids ever getting out of Camden!), picking up a tour guide from the Philadelphia Mural Arts Program, and roaming from center to north to south Philly, stopping frequently at the side of the road to take a closer look at a few of the thousands of massive creations that have earned Philadelphia the title "Mural Capital of the World."

at one set of murals we were able to get out of the bus and walk right up to them. these particular murals were done by artists in collaboration with a group of prison inmates and a group of victims of violent crimes. the first one we came up to was called 'healing walls (inmates journey)', and it depicts a collage of things that contributed to the destructive patterns of behavior in their lives. the second one is called 'healing walls (victims journey)', and it shows an array of both the suffering faces and the healing forces that have helped them.

in this little slideshow, you'll see some pics of the kids soaking in the tour, and then some pics of my own personal favorite murals in Philadelphia. if you want to see more and pick your own favs (and even visit them if you're in the area!) you can go to www.muralfarm.org. they have a pretty sweet search engine that'll show you any type of mural you want to see and the address so you can find it.

but look out Philly, you've got competition. some kids from Camden just saw some of your best-kept secrets, got the insider's scoop from a lovely lady named Lisa who knows all the ins and outs of mural-making, and now they have an inkling of how to set their own city on fire with the desire to cooperate and beautify their communities.

and, God willing, they may be able to participate in making a mural of their own! as soon as we stepped off the bus back home in Camden, after taking the lovely/crazy group photo you see in the middle of the slideshow, we took a walk down a couple blocks to the local park's Little League storage building and concession stand, which currently has blank off-white cinderblock walls. there's a non-profit that wants to grant us the money for an artist to work with our kids to design and create a mural on it, to brighten up the neighborhood and deter graffiti and foster community pride and spirit. SI DIOS QUIERE! POR FAVOR! SI SE PUEDE!!!!!!!

peace art: pastels for haiti

"what does peace mean? peace means taking care of

what does peace mean? peace means taking care of

what does peace mean? peace means taking care of

ourselves, each other, and the earth!"

children circle around me, some singing, some hesitantly mouthing the words, some confidently shouting out this little piece that has become the theme song for the Camden Peace Art Project. after music time sitting on the floor, we move to the tables and my co-leader, Miss N., begins to tell us and show us how to use oil pastels...shading, stippling, cross-hatching, straight lines and curved lines and wavy lines...a whole new world of artistic technique opening up in front of our eyes!
children's eyes crinkle up with excitement and thinking as they get to pick out colors and create designs for crazy hair and crazy faces to practice the different techniques. when they're satisfied with their creations, we draw the children again into a circle on the floor to prepare them for their next project, which will not only bring them the joy of creating, but also (we hope) bring some peace and comfort to some others in our community.

"okay, does anyone remember what happened last week on a little island?" eager hands go up, but more-eager mouths blurt out, "Haiti!" "earthquake!" "tsunami?" "no, crazy" "people got hurt" "people's house fall down" "lots of people die" "people hungry". yes, children. can you see the hurt in my eyes? "and did you know that we have some families from Haiti right here in Camden? they live and go to school and go to church just down the road from us, and they probably have family and friends who got hurt or maybe died in the earthquake. so, how do you think they are feeling right now?" ... "how would you like to make a card that we can give to these families? what would you like to draw on it and write on it? here, you can use what you learned with the oil pastels...and here are some phrases you can write in French or Creole, to let them know you are thinking of them and praying for Haiti..."

you should have seen these crazy kids settle down and get to work. well, they were still pretty rowdy, but hey, they really put their hearts into those cards. one of my favorites, by one of the rowdiest kids in the room, just said "I LOVE YOU HAITI".

i know, of course, that Haiti STILL HURTS, that a few hand-colored cards from a crew of Hispanic kids in Camden to a few Haitian families in Camden is not even a drop in the bucket of all the healing water that is needed to soothe the pain of so many people and enable such a wounded nation to walk again... but in the meantime, and in light of my lack of direct access to make a concrete difference in that situation... i'm pretty proud of my Peace Art kids, and their gift to their neighbors: pastels for haiti.

all.the.arms.we.need.

i promised more information about the peace and justice gathering last month at Sacred Heart church, so here it is: a day of thinking/learning/praying about 'all the arms we need'.

the keynote speaker was Frida Berrigan, peace activist and Senior Program Associate of the Arms and Security Initiative at the New America Foundation. she spoke about the 'global arms trade', which is all a euphemism except for the 'global' part, which is pretty accurate. 'arms' is a blatant euphemism that really refers to advanced technology designed to kill and maim people and destroy property. 'trade' is something of a misnomer because it's not an equal playing field of exchange between countries; in reality, out of the $55 billion of weapons that are exchanged worldwide each year, the United States supplies 70% of those, and its closest competitor is Italy with a 3.7% share in that market. so, there's mostly one seller and lots of buyers. Frida had many more eye-opening things to say about the 'arms' and the 'trade', but mostly encouraged us to be curious about what's going on, and what is the difference between the arms that the nations think they need to design and produce and stockpile, vs. the kind of strong, true peacemaking arms we need way more of in this world.

the first workshop i went to was about women's spirituality and peacemaking. there was time and creative space for sharing how we as women have been negated by society, told we're not enough and we should be thinner.sexier.quieter.more modest.more shapely.more achievement-oriented.more practical.etc. then we joined in a ritual of remembering times when we have felt powerful as women. the session came from a small-group curriculum called 'Traveling with the Turtle' published by Pace e Bene, a Catholic peace and justice publishing company. we ended with a communal body-sculpture of ourselves in powerful positions, most with arms raised or arms around each other. all the arms we need.

there were images of turtles all over the room, in honor of this small group. i love turtles. my ideal style of living resonates with the intentional taking-time, the purposeful slowness, leading to wisdom because of the space for reflection in the midst of that life-giving pace of activity. also, one image in the room made me think of how turtles have to adapt to different environments. they have to learn to live and move and breathe and navigate equally well on land and in water. they spend their whole lives transitioning between these two, never fully belonging in either. like me! like all third culture kids!

the lunchtime literature tables included a local poetry and painting community, a conscientious objectors league, a campaign for establishing a 'department of peace' in the government, a used book sale, and author/Sacred Heart parishioner/Camden dweller Chris Haw selling and signing his book Jesus for President (co-written with friend Shane Claiborne)

the second session i chose was about the myth of redemptive violence, with stories and reflection questions interwoven with material from Walter Wink's theology of nonviolence shown in Jesus of the gospels. this workshop was led by Fr. Gerard Marable, an African American priest who has had several young male family members shot and killed in Camden, who is a prominent leader in CCOP, who is trying to merge his own parish with a primarily Hispanic parish, and is on the journey of discovering what it means to practice, promote, and pursue peace starting within his own inner violence and his relationships and his community and the world. he brought up an interesting question we have to ask ourselves, to test our cultural competence when we have these kinds of conversations - "who is in the room? and who is not in the room?" for example - he was one of the only black people at the entire gathering. most Sacred Heart members are aging middle class white people from the suburbs who come into the heart of Camden, the middle of a majorly black and hispanic neighborhood, and they do helpful work to serve in the community but not much success involving the community in taking over the work of serving within itself. some folks at this workshop came from a church in Philadelphia where the congregation appears to be 'very integrated', mostly black, some hispanic and some white, and very vibrant and inclusive worship times. but still, this elderly gentleman said, when they have their meetings of the Catholic Peace Fellowship, it's just a few white people who show up, and they're wondering why don't the black parishioners care about these issues. why, Father, when we were behind them in all the civil rights marches and struggles for equality in this country, why won't they stand with us in the justice issues of the world today? why?

my impulse was to ask, well, what are you doing that is somehow not inviting to them? fortunately Fr. Gerard was able to bring this realization to the table very diplomatically, that when we notice certain groups of people whose voices are not in the room, the first thing to do is examine ourselves and what it might be about us that is not inviting them into the room, not making it feel safe or meaningful to them to join in those conversations and efforts.

i wondered to what extent, too, it has to do simply with the life situations of the majority of the black parishioners as opposed to the relatively more affluent and comfortable white parishioners who freely choose to come in from the suburbs to attend these 'integrated' churches in impoverished neighborhoods. can you imagine what it feels like, when you're just trying to survive, just trying to meet the bottom-of-the-psychological-pyramid needs for food security, job security, and emotional security, trying to find support in your immediately-surrounding relationships. all of those issues of nuclear disarmament and fair wages for farm workers in Florida and stopping the far-away war in Afghanistan...seem so distant, so luxurious to worry about when all you can do is work to survive and provide for your family. not that people in poverty are not capable of thinking compassionately and acting to help others beyond their immediate surroundings - they absolutely are capable! and often when issues are presented in a meaningful way, with a deserved sense of urgency and magnitude of need, people who have very little themselves may very well be, proportionately, the more generous to the causes. but if you're talking about bi-monthly meetings with agendas and assignments and action steps toward the distant and relatively abstract goals of ending a war or making peace in the middle east or gaining justice for immigrants or even registering people as conscientious objectors...that may just not seem to matter as much as getting food on the table so that your child is not crying with hunger pains that night or getting frostbite from lack of gloves or boots you couldn't buy that month. what do you think? am i being too simplistic or stereotypical here? there's the people who feel like they don't have all the arms they need to just get through each day, and then there's the people who have arms to spare to lift up all these worthy causes in the world, but not enough to just walk arm in arm alongside their neighbors, their brothers and sisters they clamor to see and embrace in church but turn a blind eye to the kind of homes and jobs and financial situations they go back to after mass. and there's all kinds of others in between and even further extremes. and yet we mostly all have good intentions, we all want to care, we all want to share our arms with somebody, somehow...

and the day concluded with a prayer service honoring a variety of our brothers and sisters in history who have given their arms, their hearts and minds and ears and voices, and even their lives given up in the process of making peace and working for justice, in the hopes that we may do the same, in our own ways, times, and places.

amen.

poets.of.poverty.and.peace.

yesterday i went to the 7th annual gathering on peace and justice, hosted by the peace community that lives around the Sacred Heart parish in south Camden. in between sessions, i wandered a bit through the cracks and crevices and passageways of the church and up and down the dirty-snow-lined streets of row houses around it. my camera's eyes were captured by some stunning works of art done by parishioners - some vibrant iconic paintings hung in frames on walls in sacred spaces in the church, and some guerrilla poetry slammed gracefully on sheets of wood and nailed to the windows and doors of abandoned houses and storefronts in the neighborhood. here is a little video giving glimpses of these bursts of beauty and light in the 'dark' of a city many assume to be as good as dead or dying. the song is from the Taize community, saying "La tenebre n'est point tenebre devant toi; la nuit comme le jour est lumiere" / Our darkness is never darkness in your sight; the deepest night is clear as the daylight. [amen]

snow.havoc.means.skating.to.school.

the city of Camden is too poor to plow the streets. i don't think they even own snowplows. maybe we're not the only place in the country where this is true, but wow, it makes a big difference in the way things look and work after a snowstorm. it's basically up to the first brave souls who go out after the blizzard to beat it down as they drive through the drifts. sometimes those few, fortunate neighbors who have possession of a pick-up truck with a plow thing on the front will help clear up a path through part of the neighborhood to make it passable. hmm, what does 'passable' look like to you?

after 2 or so feet (somewhere between 25 and 27 inches) of snow fell this past weekend, 'passable' in our case means that the width of the neighborhood streets has shrunk by about half due to the cars parked on either side with several feet of snow surrounding them. in the remaining space, down the middle of the road, there is a rutted, uneven inch or three of slick packed-down snow/ice blanketing most of the road surface, with a few patches of pure slush and a couple blobs of open pavement peeking out like potholes. so, on my four-block walk from my house to the church/school where i taught ESL on monday morning, it was entirely possible to use my boots like ice-skates and slide almost the whole way on that slick layer of dirty white frozenness. and since sidewalk shoveling is not enforced in front of every house...the most dependable option really is to skate down the middle of the road to get to school and back.

of course, i won't be skating to school today or tomorrow, because everything's closed. we're supposed to get another foot or so today, and then it'll be another day or so before it's safe and 'passable' enough for everybody to come out from our snow-cocoons.

and the snowflakes keep falling...

year.glass.half.full.

it is almost exactly the halfway point of my year of service in Camden, and my cup has already been filled to overflowing, more times than i can count. all i can do is name a few grains from the hourglass of this year's passing, a few drops from the River Grateful:

- St. Clare House, where i live with three other Franciscan Volunteer Ministers (FVMs), now has a prayer room! with sage green walls we painted ourselves, cheap gray carpet we installed ourselves, a comfy couch from craigslist, a bunch of pillows from Goodwill for sitting on the floor, a small table populated with candles we've been given, a space heater we were given by someone at church who had an extra, a zen garden populated with rocks from the recent demolition of the most hazardous house in our neighborhood, a little lamp, a framed picture of Jesus laughing, and a frame containing four watercolor pictures created by each one of us FVMs. it is already a life-giving space for us and it is exciting to think of how it will be a blessing to future volunteers, too.

- Francis House continues to be a haven. a family. a breath of fresh air. a healing prayer. a place where we remember, in the (slightly modified) words of India Arie, that the worst disease in the world is not cancer, it's not AIDS; the worst disease in the world is fear and hate, and the cure is love. and love certainly lives here. it is a place where those whose lives have been unalterably affected by HIV and AIDS come and are invited to experience that healing love and spread it to others. and they definitely spread it to me, every day i walk in the door to spend time there.

- i already know the names of all my new students in both the morning and evening ESL classes, which just started a new term this month. so far, they seem to understand when i communicate in Spanish, and they seem to be growing in understanding and confidence of how to communicate in English, and they even seem to enjoy the comic relief of when i get mixed up and things come out in Spanglish :)

- the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders still ask me if they can sing the songs i taught them for the Advent Pageant and for Martin Luther King Day. some of them swarm me when i enter their classrooms on Friday mornings, and some of them are constantly complaining that someone else is talking, and some of them ask to go to the bathroom every five minutes, and some of them burst into renditions of "we will, we will, rock you" whenever i have them start tapping or clapping a beat, and yet all of them have memorized how to sing "hello" in eight different languages and seem to proudly raise their voices as we start each class with this greeting to "all the children of the world!"

- i now have a chance to call upon my choral/vocal experience in order to lead breathing exercises, high sighs and sirens, and other warmups with the new choir for middle schoolers, as i assist a fellow FVM in directing them on Wednesday afternoons. we have started off our repertoire with a favorite of mine, "Siyahamba/we are marching in the light of God", and they seem to be rolling with the syncopation pretty well and even shaping their phrases a little bit. watch out, Chanticleer.

- the Camden Peace Art Project has been re-visioned by another fellow FVM and myself to integrate music and peacebuilding activities along with the primary focus on art skills and projects. AND, we have received several generous gifts and an important grant that is enabling us with not only the resources but the essential element of hope that we need in order to continue offering this biweekly after-school program for the children of this city.

- last week was Christian Unity Week in Camden, organized by CCOP. the kick-off was on Martin Luther King Day, with a workshop series throughout the day at St. Anthony's, all about community organizing, because that's what Dr. King did so phenomenally and got in trouble for, not just community service, not painting walls or picking up trash or serving in a soup kitchen, as helpful and necessary as those things may be. each evening there was a worship gathering at a different church around the city, and a different pastor/priest/preacher delivered the 'word', and different community members read the scriptures and prayed the prayers and made the announcements. BUT, the same choir, the Camden Christian Unity Choir, led the music every night. and i was in it. :) we sang mostly some contemporary gospel standards, but they also invited me to teach them a couple of songs in Spanish. claro que si, cantamos "alabare, alabare, alabare, alabare, alabare a mi Senor!"

Monday night at Camden Bible Tabernacle

Wednesday night at St. Bartholomew's Roman Catholic church

St. Bart's

Thursday night at Faith Tabernacle Church

Friday night at Antioch Baptist Church

franciscan.home.makeover.

as part of our commitment to living in community for this year, we are jointly responsible for the general upkeep of the house we have been given. we have a monthly budget that we can divide however we need, to pay for food, gas, some community activities, and necessities for the car and house. one of my housemates in particular has a passion for tackling home improvement projects - and this house needs a lot of them! another housemate has a keen eye for aesthetics, so with those forces combined, using some of our free days and hours, we've been able to accomplish a lot. so far, we have:

- soaked and wiped down all the window blinds and fan blades from around the house to remove years of dust build-up

- stripped the grimy flowered wallpaper off the top half of the kitchen walls

- spackled, sanded, and painted those walls a beautiful, bright, clean white

- peeled the multiple-patterned adhesive layers off of the chlorine-blue faux-tile that is tacked all over the bottom half of the kitchen walls [we have yet to clean those and paint a deep, dusky purple over them]

- spackled and primed the scuffed-up, off-white walls of the dining room

- painted the dining room walls a warm, delicious pumpkiny color called 'falling leaves'

- stuffed steel wool into gaps around the lower edge of the house so that mice can't get in

- spackled the back bedroom and painted over its former shade of 'suave mauve' to a rich, dark-chocolaty hue called 'moroccan henna'

- repeatedly dumped Dran-o down the shower drain to solve our water-staying-in-the-tub problems [currently trying 'El Diablo', some professional drain-unclogging concoction i was handed from the back room of Cartun's, our local hardware store]

- patched up some places in the living room where the wallpaper with the creamy buttery yellow paint over it was peeling away from the wall

- rearranged the living room into a much more inviting setup, and mounted some lovely artwork on the walls

next up:

- cleaning and painting the bottom half of the kitchen

- converting our current storage/recycling room into a nice reading/prayer room

- painting the middle bedroom so that its occupant doesn't have to stare up at neon green all night and look around at uneven white walls all the time

- who knows what we'll come up with after that!

sing.hello.to.miss.anna.

thirty little voices chime each friday morning as i enter the classroom, "good morning, miss anna!" and we gather in a circle and sing hello to each child in 2nd and 3rd grade as we start music class. next door, in 1st grade, art class is just getting under way, under the guidance of my roommate and fellow Franciscan volunteer. in an hour we will switch classrooms, in an effort to provide every child at St. Anthony's School with weekly opportunities to exercise and develop their skills of creativity and appreciation for art and music.

this is a new, surprising, and surprisingly enjoyable part of my volunteer work now. the other volunteers and i have been meeting regularly with the school principal since the year began, to see when we might start coming into the classrooms, but because of the chaos of new leadership at the school, and a new federally-funded lunch program with mounds of paperwork and logistics to handle, these fine arts classes were simply not a priority. so finally, about five weeks ago, we were able to set up a schedule and start teaching. my roommate teaches all of the art classes, K-8; another Franciscan volunteer, who actually majored in music education, teaches kindergarten and grades 4-8, because those classes take place on Wednesdays, when i am teaching ESL, so i just take over on Fridays.

i'm still trying to learn every child's name; trying to help them remember that one finger means we're using our singing voices, two fingers means we're using our speaking voices, three fingersmeans we're using our whispering voices, and no fingers means we're using our listening (i.e. silent!) voices; and now trying to help them learn their parts for the Advent pageant which is taking place in less than two weeks!

"I, said the donkey, shaggy and brown..." - 1st grade is singing The Friendly Beasts. and the 2nd-3rd grade is performing a rhythmic chant about the journey of Mary and Joseph and their search for a place to stay in Bethlehem.

speaking of a place to stay - this weekend i've been staying with some family friends in Pennsylvania, the first time i've been able to get away and spend quality time with people i know outside of FVM since August. i'm so thankful for their hospitality, which included seeing the movies Gran Torino and Precious [both highly recommended...for open minds and compassionate hearts] and also the opportunity to attend their church this morning, on this first Sunday of Advent. it was refreshing and spirit-encouraging to be able to join my voice in full-bodied harmony with a close-knit, cross-cultural and cross-generational sanctuary-full of people. singing O Come O Come Emmanuel; singing hello and love to God, and peace to each other and the world.

in the coming weeks, may we all find our ways to sing hello, love, and peace to each other, whether with our mouths, our thoughts, or our actions. may we recognize and celebrate the ways we do see light bursting into darkness; love overcoming fear; our eyes opening to see Christ in every face we encounter. may we pray for homeless or hurting hearts finding safe places to stay and be cared for, and may we be willing to be part of that caring however we can. most of all, may we invite the God who Is Peace to sing God's own hello, love, and peace deep inside of us, so that we cannot help but be a loudspeaker for that music of abundant life.

francis.house.fridays.

the time has come to tell about a typical day at Francis House. although there are really no 'typical' days. i go on Tuesdays, too, and they're also open on Thursdays, but Friday is generally more of a full house, always bringing an unpredictable mix of people and predicaments, but often becoming the highlight of my week.

so here's what happens - or shall we say, here's what could potentially happen if you, my friend, happened to come by this little corner of Camden on one of these days:

10 or 11 am - so you show up at the front gate and spend a few minutes admiring the colorful, meaningful tile mosaics that adorn the front face of the otherwise-plain brick building. So this is Francis House. you go inside, and find a few people sitting in the dining room reading the paper and chatting, some in the living room listening to the parakeets chatter, some hanging around the kitchen checking on the hot lunch cooking, some sitting outside on a picnic bench smoking their cigarettes and chatting – and everyone wants to greet you, say hi, hug you, say “God bless you! How’ve you been? Where you from? Welcome to Francis House!” so, you go back in to the dining room and pour yourself a cup of coffee or grab a can of soda that’s sitting on one of the long tables, and take your pick of the spots and crowds to join in the conversation. and you hear talk about life and weekend plans and weather and public transportation and the Phillies going to the World Series and friends or family who are sick or caught in the drug scene, and about their own stories, the good and the bad, the mistakes and rejections and temptations and the victories and blessings too. you listen, you learn, you are reminded that life is a gift and nothing is more important at this moment than simply being. here. wholly.

12 noon – you hear a bell ringing and a general rumble of people making their way into the dining room, so you join the flow and let your hands be clasped by a new friend on one side and a complete stranger on the other. It’s circle time, goes the group consensus, whispered and shouted and evident in every expectant eye. once everybody is holding hands, you focus in on a solid, fiery-headed woman with her arm in a sling, standing in the middle of the circle, inviting you all to take “deep cleansing breaths”, then introducing all the visitors, volunteers, and people who’ve been away for a while. you hear some calling her “mama”, some “ma’am”, and some “Sue”. So here’s the one who birthed this place and keeps it going and growing under her wings. each introduction is celebrated with handclaps and shout-outs, making sure you feel the love, and you surely do. now it’s time for the real business of circle time: what/who do we need to pray for today? names and news-flashes of concern and thanksgiving burst forth from people’s lips like kernels in a popcorn popper… and when the pace dies down, maybe somebody volunteers to pray spontaneously, or maybe Sue leads out with "Who woke us up this morning?" and everyone joins in praying "God, give us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. God's will, not ours, be done. Amen Amen!" and the hands on either side of you drop their grip to clap their affirmation. and so do you. thus, the circle breaks off and snakes into the kitchen to line up for the food. only, you realize, you’ve already been fed, somewhere inside where food can’t begin to satisfy.

Once-in-a-lifetime - if you had come last Friday to circle time, you would have witnessed an incredible moment. we were privileged enough to listen to a poem written and read by a lady who has only been coming to Francis House for three weeks, only on Fridays, and yet as she read her poem, i was brought to tears and spirit-shivers by the way she expressed the heart of the mission of Francis House and all we hope for it to be for the people who come here. i looked at Sue in the middle of the circle and saw her eyes welling up, and she saw that i was about to let it leak too, and later as she was hugging me goodbye for the day, she said, "so, you're a wimp, too!" but truly, it was incredible to hear what the Spirit of Love has done in one much-abused, usually-quiet-and-reserved woman as a result of spending just a few hours in this place i am privileged to be a part of. she was showered with a massive outpouring of applause and amen's from the whole circle group, too; everyone knew that she had seen clearly and struck the core of our common experience with her words and her attitude of gratitude for God guiding her to this place. you would have loved it. and maybe you would have given her a hug and thanked her for her poem, and she would have said, “I love you, baby”, and you would have trembled with amazement that you even get to cross paths with such a lady, let alone receive her appreciation or affection. you might be at a loss for words. But that would be okay.

12-something - you finally find yourself at the front of the line, and you help yourself to some hot pasta and sauce or chicken and potatoes or sausage and sauerkraut or some kind of soup and vegetables or whatever they’ve got going on there, and some salad and maybe a breadstick or two. as you head back into the dining room to sit down and share in the meal, you notice that there’s a few who can't get food for themselves, so their plates are being served up and brought to them by another member of the…family, yes, that’s what it feels like…

Around 1 pm – once lunch is over, you may be in for a treat, and i don’t mean the sugar-sweet kind for your tastebuds…i’m talking about some serious ear candy and real endorphin-boosting events here. you, my friend, have been invited to a 'concert' by the original/founding Francis House attendee. as you follow him down the hall to the Francis House chapel, one of us FVMs fills you in on a little background info: he's been living with HIV for 30 years now, since he was 21; he grew up in Camden and Philly, went too far with drugs, went into a coma for 3 months, Sue took care of him, got him back on his feet; now he's living in his own apartment, still needs a lot of help, needs a cane or walker to walk safely, repeats himself a lot and slurs his speech so you gotta listen hard; but his gift, what he loves to do to welcome newcomers to Francis House, is to take them into the chapel, plug in his little boombox he carries everywhere, pop in a disc of Marvin Gaye or Barry White or Stevie Wonder or Michael Jackson, and sing along with all his soul. and this is what graces your senses for the next half hour or so as you sit in the first pew row facing this marvel of a man who is currently sprawled on the green felt carpet on the front step of the chapel. some of the tracks skip and scratch, and some he fast-forwards past to get to his favorites, but each one truly is a gift from his heart to yours. and you’ll know when he’s wrapping up because he’ll put on an instrumental track and talk to his little audience, asking you how you liked 'the show', telling you straight out that it was 'awesome' and that he's 'the best! I’m the best! I’m the best!’ and you lean forward and listen closely when he starts telling some cautionary stories from his turbulent life, some crazy true shit [sprinkled liberally with many such descriptions because they’re really the only ones that fit], and you’re like, This guy did WHAT!?! WHAT THE?!? but you hear him, too, saying how blessed he is, and how he’s done with all that, and you might even hear him give a shout-out to how much he loves us FVMs, how we're his 'crew', how God is good to him and gave him this calling to be a blessing to Francis House. and at some point Sue or somebody pokes their head in to say that his ride is there to pick him up, or maybe just to say “enough’s enough! Get back in here with everybody else!” and so you watch as the boombox and CDs get shoved back in his bag, as he juggles his long legs back up to standing position, and as he shuffles along out of there, leaning heavily on his walking-aid device of choice. you wonder, How does it feel? What does he need? What does anybody need? but all you know is you needed that. and you will never listen to those songs the same way again. and again, you’ve been nourished somewhere you didn’t even know you needed to be.

2 pm or so – it’s closing-up time for Francis House, and you see people making the rounds for hugs, zipping up their jackets and gathering up their bags of leftovers or personal care items or whatever they needed to take home. you wave them off with a sigh that could mean anything in the world. on your way out, Sue wraps you in a hug that’s like – oh. that’s what it feels like to be hugged by God in Momma form. and you know you’re not the first to think that. and you want to learn how to love like that. and you will. because God. loves. you.

Amen.

eyes.of.a.child.

the other day i was playing frisbee with my housemates in the park a few blocks down from our house, and once after i passed it i looked over my shoulder, and there was a little boy about three feet high, looking wide-eyed at me with a futbol at his feet. he stared at me for a few seconds, then very calmly yet expectantly kicked the ball to me, so i took a time-out from frisbee to pass the soccer ball back and forth a few times with this audacious chiquito, little boy, before he wandered back to his friends and big brother, and i joined back into the frisbee circle. a few minutes later i glance behind me again and this kid is looking up at me and as soon as i meet his eyes he kicks the ball to me again, and we go through the same little game a few times, on and off again, until it's time for me to go back home. and the whole time i'm thinking, wow, in a neighborhood like this, how is this child still so trusting that he'll spontaneously share his soccer ball with a complete stranger, a grown-up(ish) white lady he's never seen before? how long will it be before that trust fades, gets disillusioned or violated? i mean, in that moment i was blessed somehow with the ability to mostly just savor the joy-drops of that innocent exchange, but now i can't help but wonder - how long before he notices the shattered glass on the sidewalks and the gunshots at night, before he gets offered weed or speed or worse? will his family be able to send him to a good school? will he stick it out and graduate, or will he drop out like 30% of students in Camden have done in recent years? will he find strong friendships among his peers, or will he search for his sense of belonging in a gang? will he gain a sense of accomplishment and adventure from his schoolwork and sports and other creative, constructive activities, or will he seek the darker thrills of getting drunk or high, of defacing neighborhood edifices, setting fire to abandoned buildings, or other destructive paths? how much choice will he feel like he has in the matter? will he be able to find a job? will he go to college? there's certainly hope for him, but also plenty of reasons for hopelessness, i'm learning.

my eyes have been opened to many reasons for these issues by participating in community actions and discussions with a local group called CCOP (Camden Churches Organized for People). i'm going tomorrrow to a church across town to join a troupe of my fellow Camden residents, pastors, priests, Franciscan friars, non-profit workers and volunteers, and children, to meet and dialogue with NJ governor Jon Corzine. here's my very brief, very broad-brushed synopsis of why:

seven years ago, Camden was deemed to be in a state of emergency, and control of the city was taken into state government hands. three years later (four years ago), leadership changed, promises were made, resources were found, and the people thought there might be reason to hope for better things for Camden. but here we are, coming up to another election season, and the leadership has not been accountable, promises have not been kept, resources have not reached the needs, and the people would like to remain hopeful, but the reasons seem few and dim except for our ultimate hope and faith in God's love in the midst of suffering. so, some faith-full citizens are determined to let their voices be heard, to speak up for those in Camden who live in fear and hurt and lack of opportunities. here's the media advisory about it; stay tuned for more about the 'why' and 'what' after it happens.

in the meantime, we pray, pray, pray...and turn our eyes upon Jesus who sees the child inside and the path ahead of all of us...

camden.gets.funky.

last night, for our 'community fun night', we headed over to the Camden waterfront area, which has been developed in recent years with an Aquarium and a Children's Garden and a boardwalk along the Delaware River. browsing for local events online, we stumbled onto this and decided to check it out.

Courier Post online photo

delighted to find free parking just across the street from what promised to be a fantastic free concert, we weren't too fazed by the numerous smashed beer bottles and cases strewn about the lot; we encounter these every day just walking the four blocks between our house and the church. so we made our way down to the crowd at the foot of the Wiggins Park stage, set with a perfect view of the Philadelphia nighttime skyline (pictured above during daylight and below at night). and were pleasantly surprised by the high-energy, wholesome blend of soul/funk/rock/gospel music streaming live from the speakers and infusing the audience with some in-your-face hope-in-spite-of-everything, with the audacity to dance their hearts out or the freedom to lay out on the grass and let the soundwaves wash over them. thanks to the Robert Randolph Family Band, the "most-often-stuck-in-my-head" award these days goes a little like this... "you're a shining star, no matter who you are, shining bright to see what you could truly be..."

just across the water, at the Penn's Landing riverfront area of Philadelphia, free festivals like this are common all summer long. in fact, probably a good portion of the people milling around last night came over via the Ben Franklin Bridge to enjoy one more end-of-summer bash, with a little change of scenery. but in Camden, it is a significant and triumphant step to put on such an event and hope, por favor, that it will happen again next year. and it doesn't solve any of the massive headaches Camden faces, doesn't exactly alleviate poverty or improve education or reduce violence or any of those urgently necessary things, but i do think the presence of events like this is important sometimes. to create space and an environment where people can celebrate the good and the possibilities in life together, or at least escape from some of its stresses and pressures. to rain down a little joy-burst on the dust and busyness of our lives. to remind us of the starlight within...

spanish.crashcourse.coming.up.

so, the sweetest thing happened to me last night right before ESL class - this tiny, well-wrinkled yet wiry Mexican lady comes into the church basement where we have the classes, and we think she's there to register for english class, right? no. she points straight at me, so i come over to her and she wraps me in a giant hug (although she only comes up to my armpits, well maybe shoulders, almost, she fits under my chin for sure), calling me "mi hijita, mi hijita", and when she finds out my name is Anna she says "ahhhhhhh! anita, anita!!!", and says (in spanish) she wants me to teach her to read and write in Spanish, and will i tutor her twice a week for two hours? well, i looked at my schedule and i really only had one afternoon a week where i could do that, so i offered that, and she was overjoyed but kept teasing me to make it two days a week, but finally we agreed to start with one day a week, and... i'll see her on monday! to teach her spanish literacy and grammar! craaaaazinessssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and she wrapped me in several more hugs and chattered away to one of the other ESL teachers who speaks Spanish, before she left, trailing a bubble-bath of smiles. she had just disappeared out the door when i realized i didn't even know her name!!! luckily she was still on the stairs, so i caught her and got her phone number and found out her name, etc.

so here's what i know: i will be spending two hours a week with an absolute BUNDLE OF JOY. i am... inexplicably excited about this. who knew i would be doing this?? who knows if i even have the ability to??!!! but somehow, i feel more confident about this small assignment that i am certainly NOT qualified for (only remotely, at best), than i feel about the three main ministries i've chosen that i actually have some college education in. go figure. pray for me!

new.home.base.

here's what's been blowing my mind a little each day since august 15:

i live in Camden, New Jersey. this is a home of mine now. this is where i will sleep, eat, sing, dance, garden, teach, learn, cook, clean, speak, listen, walk, run, read the newspaper, surf the internet, drive a minivan, smile, cry, swing in the park, buy groceries, take out the trash, pray, and breathe for the next eleven months.

Camden is one of the poorest cities in the United States - for the past several years it has consistently ranked in the top 3 for crime and poverty. there are over 4000 abandoned properties scattered throughout the neighborhoods, where drugs are bought and sold like hot cakes. i live in Cramer Hill, which is in north Camden, probably one of the nicest sections, with an active community development corporation (the CHCDC) that has helped to create much safe and affordable housing, and yet just two blocks down the street from me is a row of three houses that have been sitting abandoned for about 20 years, during which multiple fires have burned out their insides, and if you just push on one of the sideboards with your pinky finger it flaps back and forth - this thing is ready to fall anytime. it's been labeled an 'imminent hazard' by the city since fall 2008, which means that it should have been demolished, at the absolute latest under LAW, by about 10 months ago. and yet it still stands. 'still stands tall', according to the Courier Post today which carried the story of the local churches' action to try to get the city to take care of this dirty business. i was there.

;-) i carried a banner and a cardboard bulldozer. you can read the story and look at pics here.

i have three housemates - one girl and two guys - who are working with the same program, Franciscan Volunteer Ministries. we like to drink tea and laugh together. i'm excited to get to know them more.

there's so much more i could say about my past 13 days of living here, and about what my day-to-day activities for this year may look like (my schedule is still kind of in process of being developed), but i mostly want to say that everyone i've met here has been wonderfully kind and welcoming. a neighbor down the street told us how he makes sure everybody puts their trash out so that it's easier for the trash man to pick it up. a lady from our church gave us an overflowing basketful of peppers and tomatoes and eggplants and canteloupe from her garden. a man at the HIV/AIDS hangout center gave us a heart-felt concert of Michael Jackson karaoke. the maintenance man at a recently-shut-down Catholic school across town lent us his truck and his own sweat and effort to help move all the textbooks, gym equipment, computers, and other useful materials to the school here, which hasn't had enough money to buy new things for years. so he helped us move it all, and then he gave us several bags of mocha cappuccino mix from the coffee company he works for. the lady who runs the HIV/AIDS ministry just brought pasta, rolls, and salad over for us for dinner, since we were working on that school job all day. our supervisor, Father John, canceled one of our meetings one day and just took us to a nature preserve on the banks of the Delaware river and we walked the trails and shore for a while.

i think it's gonna be a good journey.