My time at Edinburgh we really great. I saw the Castle, Holyroodhouse, St. Giles Cathedral, Canongate Church, and the Museum of Edinburgh. What a great city! Relatively quiet, cultured, and unpretentious. Full of writers like Robert Burns, Robert Fergusson, Robert Louis Stevenson (see the pattern?), Sir Walter Scott. . . I saw Fergusson's grave as well as Adam Smith's . . .I saw the outside of the new Scottish Parliament (very 21st-century-looking, with good quotes from Scottish writers carved outside), and Deacon Brodie's close (that dude was the real-life inspiration for Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde).
Hannah's flatmates (Gemma, Kerrie, and Jenny) were very warm and helpful, and I had good chats with Jenny especially. I really got a lot of good rest and relaxation in, and felt I got a nice sense of the city after wandering about it for a few days.
I also received a touching welcome back to Iona-- people gave me loads of hugs, said they'd missed me and it seemed like ages since I'd been here.
We were all at the pub last night, and Sam witnessed what he called a "Super Melvin" (I really put my foot in it) in from of Helen Woodcock, a Community member's daughter. After some time laughing there, Sam and Marie and I went on a mission to cut flowers from across peoples' hedges to give to Kate for her birthday. Then, when I arrived back to my room, I kicked over a container of liquid by my bed, which surprised and puzzled me. When I turned on the light, I realised what it was--Marie and Sam had gotten me flowers as well! They were wanting to say thank you for the CDs I brought back for them. . . the note on the flowers read, "To a really great friend--see you at the pub!-- Sam-- Jelly Tot." (They'd gotten and placed them there while I was at after-service teas, and before the pub). I felt so excited and happy and loved all at once. It was a beautiful, beautiful moment that I will treasure in my heart for probably the rest of my life.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Saturday, July 22, 2006
In with the new!
Nuts to this keeping up with old journal entries. I'm givin' you guys the fresh stuff from here on out. (At some point I'll create a document with all my entries for your perusal. . .however, I doubt I know that many people that dedicated to my life's details, but I can always flatter myself with the idea that somebody wants to live vicariously through me).
Anyway, I'll be back on tomorrow to post hightlights from my Edinburgh holiday, my adventures in singing to a congregation with my hands (not as easy as it looks) and generally fun housekeeping stuff like diluting mass quantities of sanitising solution. I bet you can't wait. :)
Back soon with the good stuff, perhaps even some poems from the Iona vollies' Write Club. Keep an eye out.
Anyway, I'll be back on tomorrow to post hightlights from my Edinburgh holiday, my adventures in singing to a congregation with my hands (not as easy as it looks) and generally fun housekeeping stuff like diluting mass quantities of sanitising solution. I bet you can't wait. :)
Back soon with the good stuff, perhaps even some poems from the Iona vollies' Write Club. Keep an eye out.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Bouncers in Wellies
Friday 19 May
Last evening was yet another blessing in disguise. I was feeling a little down, and an unexpected boon arrived in the form of a disco (read: dance) held for the teens staying at the Mac. I heard about it and came--and got invited to be a bouncer at the door with Lauren and Simon, who were dressed in shades and bright yellow fishermen's gear, calling teachers "hot chicks," and making the kids prove themselves to get inside the activity room where the disco was being held. I myself was a little hesitant at first (twentysomething vollies dancing with high schoolers?), but (Swedish) Amanda's adorable enthusiasm and the infectious music got me shakin' my thing with the best of 'em. Best part: dancing in a group with other staff, complete with Lauren and Simon still dancing about in their head-to-toe yellow waterproofs and wellies. Simon called himself Amanda's and my pimp as he rocked out- ha! I had a bloody fantastic time.
Thank you, God. I came, I danced, and I saw things a little more clearly about myself. I may be about ten years late on this, but I appreciate it all the same.
Last evening was yet another blessing in disguise. I was feeling a little down, and an unexpected boon arrived in the form of a disco (read: dance) held for the teens staying at the Mac. I heard about it and came--and got invited to be a bouncer at the door with Lauren and Simon, who were dressed in shades and bright yellow fishermen's gear, calling teachers "hot chicks," and making the kids prove themselves to get inside the activity room where the disco was being held. I myself was a little hesitant at first (twentysomething vollies dancing with high schoolers?), but (Swedish) Amanda's adorable enthusiasm and the infectious music got me shakin' my thing with the best of 'em. Best part: dancing in a group with other staff, complete with Lauren and Simon still dancing about in their head-to-toe yellow waterproofs and wellies. Simon called himself Amanda's and my pimp as he rocked out- ha! I had a bloody fantastic time.
Thank you, God. I came, I danced, and I saw things a little more clearly about myself. I may be about ten years late on this, but I appreciate it all the same.
Visiting Camas
Day off again today, and I went with Matty and Moses to the Isle of Mull (Iona's next-door neighbour) through Fionnphort, and while walking down the road we met Hazel and Petr, two other vollies. They convinced us to walk with them another two miles or so to Camas, another one of Iona's island centres. The trouble was that we had no idea how rought the terrain was going to be once we left the road for the last mile down to the bay: bogs and mud-piles abounded. The bay was beautiful, but the Camas buildings were pretty rough. I hope the Growing Hope Appeal will make things more liveable there. Then again, some people like that level of outdoorsiness, with extremely few amenities like hot showers and toilets.
Our original group headed back to Fionnphort for a pint at the pub (Keel Row), which was quite cosy with a fireplace. Moses bought us a round of Strongbow cider, Matty got his Cocoa Pops from the corner store (since Iona's store lacks such necessities like chocolatey breakfast cereals, hair gel--brought some back for Darren--and video rentals) and we shared some Indian takeaway (tikka missala which we nuked and ate at Cul Shuna). The football game Darren organised didn't happen, as it was raining and we couldn't be bothered to play in such weather.
Our original group headed back to Fionnphort for a pint at the pub (Keel Row), which was quite cosy with a fireplace. Moses bought us a round of Strongbow cider, Matty got his Cocoa Pops from the corner store (since Iona's store lacks such necessities like chocolatey breakfast cereals, hair gel--brought some back for Darren--and video rentals) and we shared some Indian takeaway (tikka missala which we nuked and ate at Cul Shuna). The football game Darren organised didn't happen, as it was raining and we couldn't be bothered to play in such weather.
The Shrinking Violet Dances
Tuesday 16 May
So I'm getting more in touch with the island animals, including Lily the cat, Clyde the horse, and Petey and Gertrude the compost slugs. Okay, maybe I'm a bit nuts, but hey, talking with animals helps you maintain your sanity, I'm sure.
Evidently the Mac housekeepers and cooks have had a really sucky day so far with leaky milk-bags, food-fighting kids in the kitchen, a lack of chores getting done, and Rhiannon being yelled at by one of the teachers--I'm glad I wasn't there for all that.
This morning I had my first reflection with Zoe, and my first "chatting" time with Simon this afternoon. He seemed to want me to remember to truly be present in this time on Iona and to think about what it truly means to be oneself. He said I seemed, if not confident, then not fragile . . . I told him all but my darkest secret, and he could identify with what I told him . . . he talked about intuitive, compassionate people who can be so in tune with other people's emotions that they have real problems with worrying too much about what others think of them. He thanked me for being so open. I reminded him that I'd had lots of practise.
Zoe praised my skills with teaching the guests their chores and dinner tasks. Quite surprising--I have done something (other than being a shrinking violet) well!
Wednesday 17 May
I've had the breakfast shift this morning, and it went quite alright. It's the three-week marker for me, and the other vollies were right when they warned us from the beginning that time goes quite quickly here. I feel great, though. I wish I made friends more quickly with others here, but the important thing is to be open and, as Nick (an Iona Community member) would say, "Don't roll the window up." Someone might just defy your dreadful expectations and want to dance with you in a vibrant, free celebration of life.
So I'm getting more in touch with the island animals, including Lily the cat, Clyde the horse, and Petey and Gertrude the compost slugs. Okay, maybe I'm a bit nuts, but hey, talking with animals helps you maintain your sanity, I'm sure.
Evidently the Mac housekeepers and cooks have had a really sucky day so far with leaky milk-bags, food-fighting kids in the kitchen, a lack of chores getting done, and Rhiannon being yelled at by one of the teachers--I'm glad I wasn't there for all that.
This morning I had my first reflection with Zoe, and my first "chatting" time with Simon this afternoon. He seemed to want me to remember to truly be present in this time on Iona and to think about what it truly means to be oneself. He said I seemed, if not confident, then not fragile . . . I told him all but my darkest secret, and he could identify with what I told him . . . he talked about intuitive, compassionate people who can be so in tune with other people's emotions that they have real problems with worrying too much about what others think of them. He thanked me for being so open. I reminded him that I'd had lots of practise.
Zoe praised my skills with teaching the guests their chores and dinner tasks. Quite surprising--I have done something (other than being a shrinking violet) well!
Wednesday 17 May
I've had the breakfast shift this morning, and it went quite alright. It's the three-week marker for me, and the other vollies were right when they warned us from the beginning that time goes quite quickly here. I feel great, though. I wish I made friends more quickly with others here, but the important thing is to be open and, as Nick (an Iona Community member) would say, "Don't roll the window up." Someone might just defy your dreadful expectations and want to dance with you in a vibrant, free celebration of life.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Can Old Seals Learn New Tricks?
Sunday 14 May
It's my parents' twenty-eighth wedding anniversary, and Joel and Julianne are also getting married today (which I'd forgotten), and in other important news, Aniko will be leaving tomorrow. . .she's another person that I'd like to try and keep in touch with after we're parted from this place.
Today I taught some puffins their tasks, and at dinner tonight I will teach some seals to balance balls on their noses, perhaps. Of course, I'm not referring to the real animals. . .these are two names of task teams into which we divide the guests for the week (the other is the otters). My first time teaching, and it went well. . .nothing got really botched up. I'm amazed and grateful.
Monday 15 May
Highlights today:
-enjoyable ceilidh
-loved learning about the South African community of Gugulatu
-got to know a nun from Wales
-got to brag about EMHS Touring Choir
-waved goodbye to Aniko at the jetty
-difficult "learning experiences" with setting up dinner
-walked to the shop with Matty and Hazel for a Mars Bar (what we'd call a Milky Way), after earlier indulging in leftover sticky toffee pudding (sweets overload)
-talked more with Naison from Zimbabwe
It's never boring, Iona.
It's my parents' twenty-eighth wedding anniversary, and Joel and Julianne are also getting married today (which I'd forgotten), and in other important news, Aniko will be leaving tomorrow. . .she's another person that I'd like to try and keep in touch with after we're parted from this place.
Today I taught some puffins their tasks, and at dinner tonight I will teach some seals to balance balls on their noses, perhaps. Of course, I'm not referring to the real animals. . .these are two names of task teams into which we divide the guests for the week (the other is the otters). My first time teaching, and it went well. . .nothing got really botched up. I'm amazed and grateful.
Monday 15 May
Highlights today:
-enjoyable ceilidh
-loved learning about the South African community of Gugulatu
-got to know a nun from Wales
-got to brag about EMHS Touring Choir
-waved goodbye to Aniko at the jetty
-difficult "learning experiences" with setting up dinner
-walked to the shop with Matty and Hazel for a Mars Bar (what we'd call a Milky Way), after earlier indulging in leftover sticky toffee pudding (sweets overload)
-talked more with Naison from Zimbabwe
It's never boring, Iona.
Roller Coasters
Saturday 13 May
Just sent Mum a postcard for Mother's Day and her and Dad's anniversary . . . although really late. Oh well--it's the thought that counts, right? Yeah.
Everyone's kinda grumpy and/or down around Cul Shuna this afternoon, although we have had some laughs about Matty trying to open a tin of chocolate pudding (Heinz makes it--can you believe it?!) with a defunct tin opener, and when we were all dancing about to Sugababes music (a pop group in the UK, and make enjoyable only by the fact that Matty gets so into it).
Last night, we on the staff went on the Iolaire (Gaelic for "eagle") on a boat trip round Iona-- loads of fun. The boat rocked fiercely as we rounded the isle's north coast and came down along the west side in the Atlantic rather than merely the sound between Iona and Mull. We squealed with delight in getting drenched with salty sea-sprays, and crashed into each otehr's arms as the natural roller coaster slammed us back and forth.
Today, after spending ages on a crossword puzzle (better with two people), Matty and I went out to dinner at Martyrs Bay (a restaurant which is also home to Iona's much-celebrated pub), and made plans for spending time on Mull on Thursday, our simultaneous day off. Church was great tonight--a Scottish song about hospitality ("Trim the crusie's failing light") and an African song called "Bambalayla", with which we had fun changing around the words as we walked to the pub. It was Aniko's brithday--she seems so happy about her job here as Mac Housekeeper in the fall. I really like her.
Matty seems okay after having an emotionally up-and-down day about his boyfriend, Luke, whom I really hope is trustworthy. Matty doesn't need betrayal right now . . . he soaks up all the love he can get, and based on what he says, he needs it.
Just sent Mum a postcard for Mother's Day and her and Dad's anniversary . . . although really late. Oh well--it's the thought that counts, right? Yeah.
Everyone's kinda grumpy and/or down around Cul Shuna this afternoon, although we have had some laughs about Matty trying to open a tin of chocolate pudding (Heinz makes it--can you believe it?!) with a defunct tin opener, and when we were all dancing about to Sugababes music (a pop group in the UK, and make enjoyable only by the fact that Matty gets so into it).
Last night, we on the staff went on the Iolaire (Gaelic for "eagle") on a boat trip round Iona-- loads of fun. The boat rocked fiercely as we rounded the isle's north coast and came down along the west side in the Atlantic rather than merely the sound between Iona and Mull. We squealed with delight in getting drenched with salty sea-sprays, and crashed into each otehr's arms as the natural roller coaster slammed us back and forth.
Today, after spending ages on a crossword puzzle (better with two people), Matty and I went out to dinner at Martyrs Bay (a restaurant which is also home to Iona's much-celebrated pub), and made plans for spending time on Mull on Thursday, our simultaneous day off. Church was great tonight--a Scottish song about hospitality ("Trim the crusie's failing light") and an African song called "Bambalayla", with which we had fun changing around the words as we walked to the pub. It was Aniko's brithday--she seems so happy about her job here as Mac Housekeeper in the fall. I really like her.
Matty seems okay after having an emotionally up-and-down day about his boyfriend, Luke, whom I really hope is trustworthy. Matty doesn't need betrayal right now . . . he soaks up all the love he can get, and based on what he says, he needs it.
Being God's
Thursday 11 May
Well, Staffa was great fun--between the puffins close-up, the high hills so near to the sea, and singing in Fingal's Cave, I quite enjoyed it.
After the day was almost over, some of the other vollies at Cul Shuna noticed that I looked kind of down, and Lauren took me outside for a walk to talk. We ended up sitting on the windy jetty, which was chilly, but I didn't care. At that point, I proceeded to burst into tears and tell her all that had been on my mind. This included feeling un-unique, among the hated as an American, and feeling unnoticeable. She asked me where all this had come from, and I told her the story of my fears. She was so honest and encouraging and humble and didn't sugar-coat things in talking about life, but neither did she shortchange the amazingness of God's love. "What if it were true, that he loves you?" she said. She told me I was amazing, and that I was her friend. She said, "Be God's." Lauren is quite a wonderful person, and she actually said that her life has been made richer for knowing me.
The service this morning went great, and Rhiannon and I (we co-led) got lots of compliments. No really flub-ups or anything, and people seemed to especially like our prayers and the polished manner in which the whole service was presented.
Catherine, a new vollie in housekeeping with me, seems very nice. She names herself a writer, and doesn't have huge plans lined up anytime soon. Everyone here seems to be at a crossroads.
Well, Staffa was great fun--between the puffins close-up, the high hills so near to the sea, and singing in Fingal's Cave, I quite enjoyed it.
After the day was almost over, some of the other vollies at Cul Shuna noticed that I looked kind of down, and Lauren took me outside for a walk to talk. We ended up sitting on the windy jetty, which was chilly, but I didn't care. At that point, I proceeded to burst into tears and tell her all that had been on my mind. This included feeling un-unique, among the hated as an American, and feeling unnoticeable. She asked me where all this had come from, and I told her the story of my fears. She was so honest and encouraging and humble and didn't sugar-coat things in talking about life, but neither did she shortchange the amazingness of God's love. "What if it were true, that he loves you?" she said. She told me I was amazing, and that I was her friend. She said, "Be God's." Lauren is quite a wonderful person, and she actually said that her life has been made richer for knowing me.
The service this morning went great, and Rhiannon and I (we co-led) got lots of compliments. No really flub-ups or anything, and people seemed to especially like our prayers and the polished manner in which the whole service was presented.
Catherine, a new vollie in housekeeping with me, seems very nice. She names herself a writer, and doesn't have huge plans lined up anytime soon. Everyone here seems to be at a crossroads.
First Difficult Goodbye
Wednesday 10 May
My day off, and I'm on a boat trip to Staffa, a tiny island in the Hebrides family-- it's most famous for Fingal's Cave, which is named after an Irish giant (Fionn MacCaul) and inspired Felix Mendelssohn's Hebrides Overture (well, the sound of the sea from the cave inspired him, really). Staffa was volcanically formed 59 million years ago, and Iona was formed in the same way 2.9 billion years ago!
A sad thing today: saying goodbye to Kate and Amanda, two really great vollies. Kate worked with me in Abbey housekeeping (she'll always be in my mind as the YAAAAAAAAAY!!! queen), and Amanda was one of my roomies and in the Abbey kitchen. She's a native of Nova Scotia, and contemplating becoming a minister in the Presbyterian church; she's quite friendly, caring, genuine, helpful, and I'll really miss her. I hope to send cards out to them both, and definitely keep in touch as best I can.
A really excellent conversation with Matty last night as we walked south from the pub and sat on a bench along the beach. I told him he's smarter than he gives himself credit for, and he said he sometimes plays dumb in order to present his more "fun" side and get people to like him. He wants to start his own business-- a cafe'-- and he's got lots of savings. He's well on his way to his dream, but truth be told, if he were oodles in debt and had no idea what he wanted to do, I'd still love him. Matty's got a great heart.
Is it strange to know you love someone in friendship after two weeks?
My day off, and I'm on a boat trip to Staffa, a tiny island in the Hebrides family-- it's most famous for Fingal's Cave, which is named after an Irish giant (Fionn MacCaul) and inspired Felix Mendelssohn's Hebrides Overture (well, the sound of the sea from the cave inspired him, really). Staffa was volcanically formed 59 million years ago, and Iona was formed in the same way 2.9 billion years ago!
A sad thing today: saying goodbye to Kate and Amanda, two really great vollies. Kate worked with me in Abbey housekeeping (she'll always be in my mind as the YAAAAAAAAAY!!! queen), and Amanda was one of my roomies and in the Abbey kitchen. She's a native of Nova Scotia, and contemplating becoming a minister in the Presbyterian church; she's quite friendly, caring, genuine, helpful, and I'll really miss her. I hope to send cards out to them both, and definitely keep in touch as best I can.
A really excellent conversation with Matty last night as we walked south from the pub and sat on a bench along the beach. I told him he's smarter than he gives himself credit for, and he said he sometimes plays dumb in order to present his more "fun" side and get people to like him. He wants to start his own business-- a cafe'-- and he's got lots of savings. He's well on his way to his dream, but truth be told, if he were oodles in debt and had no idea what he wanted to do, I'd still love him. Matty's got a great heart.
Is it strange to know you love someone in friendship after two weeks?
National Identities
Feeling annoyed with pretty much everyone, and mostly myself. My mind spews criticisms of others: She's too self-righteous, he's abrasive, she's a pushy diva, he's oblivious, she's attention-seeking, he's Mr. Awesome Granola Man, she's so pretty (and I'm jealous), he's condemned already to lying and mediocrity and scarcely anyone's thinking of how to help, she (and she and she) is cold and clipped, he's too smart to smoke, they fell in love too fast. Argh!
And another thing: diversity is celebrated in such a manner that people like Lauren get heaps of admiration and attention simply because they happen to have been born in the most interesting and different country from vollie knowledge (in her case, South Africa). Okay. Awesome--truly. I'm quite eager to learn about that culture as well as that of the UK, Germany, Sweden, Denmark, the Czech Republic, and Canada. But . . . I feel discounted because I'm common. I oppress and force. I control and dominate. I'm tiresome and weak. But I'm not unique. No, just one of the scores of American volunteers, provoking jests and snide remarks by virtue of their place of birth.
I'd so much rather celebrate a person for who they are, which is naturally infused with cultural influences. Lauren: compassionate, brash, creative, having a percussive personality, telling the truth baldly and unapologetically. A true friend.
And another thing: diversity is celebrated in such a manner that people like Lauren get heaps of admiration and attention simply because they happen to have been born in the most interesting and different country from vollie knowledge (in her case, South Africa). Okay. Awesome--truly. I'm quite eager to learn about that culture as well as that of the UK, Germany, Sweden, Denmark, the Czech Republic, and Canada. But . . . I feel discounted because I'm common. I oppress and force. I control and dominate. I'm tiresome and weak. But I'm not unique. No, just one of the scores of American volunteers, provoking jests and snide remarks by virtue of their place of birth.
I'd so much rather celebrate a person for who they are, which is naturally infused with cultural influences. Lauren: compassionate, brash, creative, having a percussive personality, telling the truth baldly and unapologetically. A true friend.
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