it's also a vegetable

I'm sitting here in the dining room listening to the sound of fireworks exploding all over the city of Belfast. For years fireworks have been banned from the city and now, on Halloween, they make up for lost time. We've heard fireworks sporadically since the beginning of October, but for the past week they have been a nightly occurence leading up to the celebration of Halloween tonight.

Halloween in Belfast falls in the middle of the school term which means that schools and programs often take a break this week. This week I have only Alpha on Wednesday and a little bit of work to do at the Trust. I'm also hoping to catch up on blogs, journalling, reading, planning for the Christmas play, and general thoughtful type things that I push aside during a normal week. When I first realized that I had all this unexpected free time I was overwhelmed. There are so many things to do and see in and around Belfast. But I'm taking the advice of David Smith and just letting myself enjoy it.

The enthusiasm surrounding Halloween is infectious. For weeks my roommates have been discussing their costumes and we even decorated our little place on Thorndale. The kids at the Trust have been talking about what they will be and drawing pictures to plan their costumes. Every time we go out to play basketball in the street we're asked what we're going to be. So yesterday I planned my costume and along with my roomies put together my outfit for tonight.

I have always loved Halloween, probably because it is an excuse to give children candy and go crazy over the "creativity" of their costumes.
Store bought costumes have always been a bit of a cop out to me, maybe because my mom used to let me put on whatever my little heart desired to parade around to the 3 or 4 neighbors we had. She was always so accepting and encouraging of my innovative mind. So after brainstorming with the roommates I decided to be a black eyed pea. See my black eye and my block letter P!

We got dressed up with the same excitement as little kids who have been waiting all week to pull out the sheets and masks. I was pleased to explain my costume to a family we met in the queue for the bus and even more excited when it made them laugh. "Isn't that a rock group?" Asked the little girl. "Yeah, but it's also a vegetable," responded Alison. We took a bus into City Centre and a shuttle to the Odyssey where they were hosting festivities in the car park such as fire baton twirlers, people on stilts, bands, and games.







We stood in the 37 degree weather watching the huge fireworks display coordinated to music. As we walked back to the shuttle we saw some great costumes including a banana, Uncle Sam, a robot (classic fridge box with tinfoil!), a pest control squad, and a penguin. There is solidarity in looking silly in a costume.




Tonight the electricity of joy and excitement was thick in the air of Belfast. Families were out with little ghosts, skeletons, and princesses up on shoulders craning to see the fireworks. You know the times of year when people walk with a smile in their step because their just so full of happiness? I loved being around to see that tonight and to see Halloween come alive in a different, vibrant way.

More and more as I live in my corner of Belfast, I love and appreciate this city. I remember that what Neely and I particularly loved about Europe the first Furman Singers tour was the little cafes and quirky shops. I love Belfast City centre for it's coffee, quirky shops including great finds at Primark, the lights around City Hall at night, the sculpture of the woman on the globe overlooking the Lagan River, the lights on the water, and the way it's a thriving city but it still feels small enough that you don't feel insignificant. I love the outgoing and friendly nature of people who speak to you on a bus and smile at your costume. I love my walk to the bus at Yorkgate and the people I pass opening stores or seeing the children playing outside at the nursery school. I love soaking in the things about this place that I will miss in tiny moments of my life when I return home.

Brave

I am a teacher. It's one of many roles and identifiers that I've struggled with since I moved to Belfast six weeks ago. When I first arrived telling people that I was a schoolteacher was a way of sharing with them my educational and career background all at once, as well as telling them something about myself, I think kids are neat. At the afterschool project it was a way of saying that I was already "one of them" in some way, that I was a person who worked with children. But one of the keys of the afterschool group is that it is a place that stresses play and creativity and I am often told that it's "not school" when I suggest an idea. In my opinion, it seems that the view is that school is too rigid and because of my teaching background I risk being viewed as a strict person, based on the view of teachers in the area. I find myself sitting back a lot and observing instead of my normal habit of taking initiative and throwing ideas around. It's not my role in the afterschools to be a schoolteacher. It is not my place to come in and blast my ideas. I am finding the sitting back and observing to be a challenge. I felt like I was working so much, but when I really jotted down my hours I realized that it was actually very little compared to how much I would work on a weekly basis in the States. How could I be so tired and not be working as much? Am I sick? But I've been blessed with some time to process lately and what seems to be the difference is that we are now truly putting into practice "being instead of doing." It is my job to "be" at the afterschools, to develop relationships with the children, their parents, and my cooworkers. Romantically, you could see that as such a wonderful thing, to just "be," but in actuality it has taken a toll on me. I am being challenged to be effective in areas that cannot be measured and in ways that I may never see the fruits. I'm struggling to identify my role and how to be effective, how to change my little corner of the world in Belfast, when in fact I think my mom said it best when she said, "You may never know your role." Is it enough to just be? When I leave will they still see that my heart was always full of a desire to care sincerely and do all I could? I feel like I'm being lazy because I'm not "doing" something like a project, or a lesson, or someting tangible you could read a lesson plan for. There's no nice wrap up resolution to this struggle. It will evolve and change and I may truly never know my role. But this week I choose to tackle part of the struggle, to not let my body shut down in fatigue because I have become complacent with status quo. Just because my role has changed doesn't mean my passion for people has to. This week I hope to refocus and ignite an energy for capturing every moment and making it meaningful. "Whatever you're doing, be all there." I want to be all here, making the most of whatever role I'm given at the time and trusting fully that each moment is orchestrated in God's purpose for my year in Belfast.

It's strange to think of trusting in God to give you energy for contentment. It's equally as strange to think of trusting God to guide your tongue not to embarrass you and to communicate your true purpose. If you know me at all, you know I can often say some stupid things. I think David Lamotte wrote the song "Ten and a Half" for me actually, because I am the queen of foot in mouth to the point that I'm fun to have at parties. The interesting part about serving in a country that technically speaks the same language is that they don't. Beyond the sayings and different names for objects, there is a subtle current of cultural difference. It's not even something you can put your finger on, but sometimes I will say something and I can tell by looking at the face of the person I'm speaking to, that my meaning is totally lost. Likewise, someone will be speaking to me and I think we've understood each other but later come to find that in fact I missed something. Now bearing that in mind, follow me through the next bit.

I LOVE PHAB club on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. It's a place where I enjoy the "being" aspect. In the youth club we entered a photo contest for volunteering around Belfast and I had the best time in City Centre with the group, taking photos to enter. I have loved getting to know the members and having fun with them in all the different activities Linda plans for them. On Thursday nights, the adults are working with the New Belfast Arts Project to create a DVD. Evelyn, the coordinator, is also working with me at the afterschools and I have already learned so much from her in a short amount of time. Her genuine concern and care for the adults permeates the group and they have a sense of community and fun that I find so exhilirating.

Being around this group is a place where I truly feel I can be myself and be appreciated, no matter what I offer or how little or much I have to give.

Last night we went out to dinner at the Chester, so we could take a fun night in between our DVD shooting. I rode the bus to pick up several of the members. The first person we picked up is in a wheelchair and I got made fun of quite a bit for not knowing how to work the lift or put the straps on properly to secure the chair in the van. Later she told the other folks at the restaurant that I was "trying to kill her." We enjoyed our dinner anyway, having great craic and much more banter than just my lift skills. It was easy for me to see why they all mentioned how much they enjoy their nights out.


On the way home Pat and I were joking with the girl in the wheelchair about wearing her belt since the bus bounces a bit over the humps in the streets. When we hit a bump I quipped that I bet she wished she had her belt and then asked her about her other chair that is her "speedy" version, as she told me last week. She was giving a lift to a young boy who is coming our group since his mom is one of the videographers. I asked her if she was bringing it and she said, "You never break a promise to a child because they are so precious." As I agreed I was smiling at the amazing gift of getting to know people and learning from them. As Pat was driving me home he asked me about my experience with people with differences. I told him that mostly I had worked with children with learning disabilities in my classroom. He said that the word "disability" is not widely used in Northern Ireland anymore. Even thought our project is called such, it's a term that isn't used often. He also said that I may have offended the girl asking about her wheelchair belt. It's an issue of independence and by asking, in my view I was making conversation, I might have put her off a bit. I was humbled. I felt angry at myself for not being more sensitive and I felt confused because I was just beginning to feel I could come out of my shell a bit and get to know people and I was already making mistakes. I felt paralyzed, thinking that I would have to go back to just being quiet in the corner and observing until I knew people better and knew enough not to offend them. But last night I was listening to my iPod and I heard the song by Nicole Nordeman "Brave." In the bridge of the song the lyrics say, "I've never known a fire that didn't begin with a flame and every storm will start with just a drop of rain, but if you believe in me that changes everything." And it reminded me that God believed in me enough to send me here and give me a place with that group. Communication is never perfect. We will fail and misinterpret simply because we are human, but that's no reason not to try. I knew this year I would look stupid a lot, but I believed in my ability to laugh at myself and move on. So I'm hoping that as I endeavor to be brave, step out, and get to know people I'll be able to show them my flaws, but I'll also be able to show them that I would never want to insult them, that I only want to appreciate them, and that I am, even with a degree in learning disabilities, still learning and have a lot to learn. I hope that people will see in me the genuine concern and interest in who they are that I want to convey and live. I hope that God will give me the strength to be brave when I'm afraid of messing up and the energy to focus on where He has me in this journey right now.

Hillsborough

Below are some pictures from our trip to Hillsborough last Friday. Doug and his wife, Elaine, took us there on a short day trip. We walked around the castle which is where the queen will still stay on her visits. I don't remember all the history, but I remember how walking around the lake made me think of Furman and home. It even had swans! All of the swans in the UK are protected by law because technically they belong to the queen. It was a beautiful day and it felt liberating to breathe deeply and to see water and wildlife. If only for a moment, my ache for South Carolina sun and Lake Keowee were a little calmer.

It's the same in any language

On Tuesday and Thursday nights I work at the 174 Trust with the disabilty projects for youth and adults. Tonight, being a Thursday, I went over to the Adult group where we've been working with the New Belfast Arts Project to create a DVD done entirely by the group members which highlights the group, it's members, and hopefully shares about it's importance so the community can see what an asset it has. Over the past 3 weeks I've gotten to know the group members as they've been shy to get up in front of the camera, or eager to get behind the scenes, or today when they got to try on wigs and laugh at each other. Through conversations with them I've found how much the 174 trust project means to them. It means they can gather once a week for a night out. Many of the members may be in day centers or cared for by family members. Their Thursday night is a night just for them when they can have fun being themselves. They enjoy outings like shopping and other day trips they've gone on through the project. Many of them have made genuinely close friendships through the meetings, just by the reassurance of a strong voice saying their name with an inviting tone. Being around this group you cannot help but laugh, smile, and be enfolded in the sincerity of friendship. The craic is great with one man trying to get me to sing Merle Haggard, another ribbing me about not noticing his glasses, and me trying to get the girls to jump in front of the camera for a glamor shot.

Tonight someone brought a keyboard and one of the members, who is blind and uses a seeing eye dog sang for us. She sang 2 hymns for us and then another lady got up and sang 2 traditional Irish songs. One about marrying a boy she loves and the other about a sailor. The coordinator went around and asked people if they knew other songs and when she came to me she remembered that someone somewhere must have let it out of the bag that I sing. So I went back to the first performer for suggestions and even asked her to join me in a hymn, thinking surely I would know one she knew. After naming several with no luck of recollection on my part, we were about to sing "White Christmas" when I remembered "How Great Thou Art" from singing it in Alpha and Sunday nights in Whitehouse. We sang the hymn together, three verses, and she even harmonized on the last part. As we sang, other members joined in, some who are almost nonverbal and some whom I have not spoken with much before. I looked around the room at the mouths moving and remembered a moment in high school during a service project.

We were volunteering at a nursing home and there was a woman doing table games with us who would not respond at all. She wouldn't play or speak to us and the nurses seemed content to let her sit there. Then we started singing some songs and this woman came alive. She remembered words to songs with perfect clarity and sang with beautiful precision. That moment was an inspiration to me, when I first thought I would do music therapy for geriatric patients. Now as I sit here with my masters degree in a box somewhere back home, a degree that has little to do with music and more with a passion for sharing apprecation for people with differences, I am amazed at how this moment happened tonight. It was a gift, a perfect gift, that truly made me smile from the inside out. We all have differences, sometimes those of us without a "disability" often have deeper differences. But the language of friendship, the communication of fellowship in the commonality of a song, and the beauty of a hand or heart extended in respectful desire of knowledge of each other is the same no matter who you are.