at the end of my sophomore year in college my room mate and i decided we could not handle the crazy north park dorms anymore and we needed out! the problem was we didn't have enough credits to compete for the smaller apartments and didn't really know anyone we'd want to live with in a larger apartment. not that there weren't people, but at small evangelicalchristian colleges (read: dry campus) you gotta be careful about who you chose as a roommate. you never know who follows the doctrine and who doesn't. lots of secret sinning in those places and jae and i were just a little more open about ours.
alas. we had a friend who was looking for roommates for her and two of her friends and who knows why? but we ended up in a 5 person with no one we knew.
sarah. oh, sarah. she was in africa during the housing lottery and i didn't even meet her until we moved in. but what a lovely treat of a room mate. she baked and cooked and baked and cooked. delicious.
we have a similar history now. after college she went to democratic republic of congo where, as a missionary, committed the eternal sin of falling in love with a local. oops. went back to the states for grad school and then got married. she's got a beautiful son, liam, who i'm sure loves his moms ability to throw down in the kitchen.
she might just be the epitome of mommy-blogger. her entire blog, the buki blog is about her son and family. and on top of being super baker cooker extraordinaire, she is thrifty. a girl after my own heart. couponing and everything. i do'nt have time for that.
but the point is right now she's got this giveaway going on for a puzzle and samil LOVES puzzles. you can win it to, check her out at the buki blog and the sponsor at toysandgamesonline.com. i just hope we get it, puzzles are expensive and my genius child loves them.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
why i left. part 2.
my dad came to santiago to pick me up this weekend. we didn't have a lot of time, so i planned a day trip to jarabacoa, a beautiful mountain town about an hour from us. the inspiration for jurassic park. gorgeous.
i thought that a friend of mine was still working at the episcopal conference center so planned to swing by on our way to see some of the waterfalls. wrong. he's not there anymore. in this diocese they switch priests like every three months. it's a little crazy.
we pull up and everything is closed up. i ask the neighbors what's going on and they tell me new missionaries are in charge. and they left for the day.
no problem, let me park here and we'll walk around and then leave.
when we got back from the walk the new missionary was standing out side waiting. pissed. before i can even introduce myself she says "you're melanie".
yes,friend. i am.
then proceeds to tell my dad he's not dominican. oops. because she thought my dad was my husband. and that she can't show us around because she's leaving. but really she had just gotten home. as quickly as she could get away from me, she got in her car and drove in. then closed the huge gate.
okay. i just re-read that and it doesn't seem like anything bad. i can't really capture the attitude. i didn't really expect her to show us around but i also didn't expect to have the door slammed in my face.
on top of her lack of courtesy, i'm bothered that a missionary would be in charge of something that was once dominican run. i believe that the job of a mission or mission ministry is to raise up local leaders to run the church. and so to put some old, rich, white lady priest to be in charge of a huge conference center, church and school in a super poor area shouts that americans are the best and we must become like them.
as we were leaving the little neighbor boy told me, "don't worry they're like that to everyone" didn't surprise me, but still kind of made me sad.
the history of mission is hard. but i see the episcopal church in the dominican republic running right back there. to the cultural imperialism, to the "we're better and more powerful so follow us" and to the white is right and money speaks ideology.
sometimes i feel like if they local priest in santiago were changed i'd go back to the episcopal church in the dominican republic, but then i'm reminded of why i left. why i'm no longer there. it's so much more than having married amalio and not getting along with my partner priest. it's that i'm not better or more holy because i'm the one who can afford the mission.
someday we'll find a church home and be content with it. and maybe then the bad feelings will disolve, until then, though, i'll have to live with that nasty taste left in my mouth,
i thought that a friend of mine was still working at the episcopal conference center so planned to swing by on our way to see some of the waterfalls. wrong. he's not there anymore. in this diocese they switch priests like every three months. it's a little crazy.
we pull up and everything is closed up. i ask the neighbors what's going on and they tell me new missionaries are in charge. and they left for the day.
no problem, let me park here and we'll walk around and then leave.
when we got back from the walk the new missionary was standing out side waiting. pissed. before i can even introduce myself she says "you're melanie".
yes,friend. i am.
then proceeds to tell my dad he's not dominican. oops. because she thought my dad was my husband. and that she can't show us around because she's leaving. but really she had just gotten home. as quickly as she could get away from me, she got in her car and drove in. then closed the huge gate.
okay. i just re-read that and it doesn't seem like anything bad. i can't really capture the attitude. i didn't really expect her to show us around but i also didn't expect to have the door slammed in my face.
on top of her lack of courtesy, i'm bothered that a missionary would be in charge of something that was once dominican run. i believe that the job of a mission or mission ministry is to raise up local leaders to run the church. and so to put some old, rich, white lady priest to be in charge of a huge conference center, church and school in a super poor area shouts that americans are the best and we must become like them.
as we were leaving the little neighbor boy told me, "don't worry they're like that to everyone" didn't surprise me, but still kind of made me sad.
the history of mission is hard. but i see the episcopal church in the dominican republic running right back there. to the cultural imperialism, to the "we're better and more powerful so follow us" and to the white is right and money speaks ideology.
sometimes i feel like if they local priest in santiago were changed i'd go back to the episcopal church in the dominican republic, but then i'm reminded of why i left. why i'm no longer there. it's so much more than having married amalio and not getting along with my partner priest. it's that i'm not better or more holy because i'm the one who can afford the mission.
someday we'll find a church home and be content with it. and maybe then the bad feelings will disolve, until then, though, i'll have to live with that nasty taste left in my mouth,
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
why i left. part one.
mission.
that word leaves a nasty, nasty taste in my mouth.
there's the history that goes with it. stripping people of their culture and beliefs, forcing european standards as the only way to get to heaven.
though that forced conversion is nothing compared to modern missions.
i tried to get over it. i did. i became a missionary. but in the episcopal church at that point we werecalled volunteers. i'd have rather been a missionary. it's like the church didn't want to own up to what they were part of.
my year of service was interesting to say the least, and in the end i left. not just being a missionary but the episcopal church as well. and, to be real honest, it took me 4 years to go back to church at all. and even still i'm not thrilled about it.
that's not the point of my post though. the point is. i'm not a big fan of missionaries. especially in the dr. and that's not to say i don't have friends who are missionaries or that i hate the people.
but.
i have a really hard time reconciling some things. like how do you work with the poorest of the poor and go home at night to your mansion? to your country club membership? to the nanny who is raising your kids or the thousands-of-dollars-per year education for your children?
i mean, i guess it's somewhat necessary to compartmentalize so as not to burn out or become a ridiculous zealot. but still.
and i know that it's not all people.
i just get really frustrated when i get dirty, dirty looks from those same missionaries when i tell them i left. and that i no longer participate in organized missions (but that we continue to be active members of our communities, giving our time, energy and money to ministries... on a very local level). and that we sometimes go to that baptist church down the street. and sometimes to that non-denominational church across from the supermarket.
as if our church hopping is not suitable for an ex-missionary.
all of this has a point of something that happened this weekend that made me realize, again, why i left. i'll write about it tomorrow, but in order to tell you that i had to tell you this.
and if you made it this far without trying to spit in my face through your computer, please know that i'm aware that not all missionaries are nasty. and not all live in mansions and not all compartmentalize their lives. i have two very dear friends who are missionaries that i love and adore. it's just that my vast experience has been dominated by the other kind of missionary.
that word leaves a nasty, nasty taste in my mouth.
there's the history that goes with it. stripping people of their culture and beliefs, forcing european standards as the only way to get to heaven.
though that forced conversion is nothing compared to modern missions.
i tried to get over it. i did. i became a missionary. but in the episcopal church at that point we werecalled volunteers. i'd have rather been a missionary. it's like the church didn't want to own up to what they were part of.
my year of service was interesting to say the least, and in the end i left. not just being a missionary but the episcopal church as well. and, to be real honest, it took me 4 years to go back to church at all. and even still i'm not thrilled about it.
that's not the point of my post though. the point is. i'm not a big fan of missionaries. especially in the dr. and that's not to say i don't have friends who are missionaries or that i hate the people.
but.
i have a really hard time reconciling some things. like how do you work with the poorest of the poor and go home at night to your mansion? to your country club membership? to the nanny who is raising your kids or the thousands-of-dollars-per year education for your children?
i mean, i guess it's somewhat necessary to compartmentalize so as not to burn out or become a ridiculous zealot. but still.
and i know that it's not all people.
i just get really frustrated when i get dirty, dirty looks from those same missionaries when i tell them i left. and that i no longer participate in organized missions (but that we continue to be active members of our communities, giving our time, energy and money to ministries... on a very local level). and that we sometimes go to that baptist church down the street. and sometimes to that non-denominational church across from the supermarket.
as if our church hopping is not suitable for an ex-missionary.
all of this has a point of something that happened this weekend that made me realize, again, why i left. i'll write about it tomorrow, but in order to tell you that i had to tell you this.
and if you made it this far without trying to spit in my face through your computer, please know that i'm aware that not all missionaries are nasty. and not all live in mansions and not all compartmentalize their lives. i have two very dear friends who are missionaries that i love and adore. it's just that my vast experience has been dominated by the other kind of missionary.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
home again home again jiggety jig
back in philadelphia with internet access and a phone. running water and a water heater.
the only drawback is the snow.
the only drawback is the snow.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
long awaited...
samil, who used to love the camera, is anti-pictures. i had to bribe him with chips to get this.
5 months oldSunday, November 1, 2009
for reals.
so, the computer finally died. and samil has temporarily incapacitated the camera. beyond that life is super busy. and not with anything really significant. just busy. and eventhough i hate this, just some tidbits
amalio - currently working on a master's degree in applied linguistics. working full time at school and writing papers.
melanie - teaching. same as always. about 20 hours a week. i've got a new little pet project i'm helping with and of course raising the babies. cooking, cleaning. and being without running water for a week.
samil - is completely potty trained (really he has been for awhile but i never said it on here. not to brag. potty trained before his second birthday). understands english, spanish and korean but doesn't have to many words to show for it. he's getting there. if someone touches the baby the wrong way he tells them "careful, baby."
amely - is getting huge. and as seen in the last post is starting to eat solids. she is a bowl of laughter and smiles. and her eyes are still blue... so much for trying to deny her american-ness.
amalio - currently working on a master's degree in applied linguistics. working full time at school and writing papers.
melanie - teaching. same as always. about 20 hours a week. i've got a new little pet project i'm helping with and of course raising the babies. cooking, cleaning. and being without running water for a week.
samil - is completely potty trained (really he has been for awhile but i never said it on here. not to brag. potty trained before his second birthday). understands english, spanish and korean but doesn't have to many words to show for it. he's getting there. if someone touches the baby the wrong way he tells them "careful, baby."
amely - is getting huge. and as seen in the last post is starting to eat solids. she is a bowl of laughter and smiles. and her eyes are still blue... so much for trying to deny her american-ness.
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