Reflection

Dolores Mission School is trying to focus more on what it means for them to be a Jesuit school, which I think is amazing after my SLU background.  So, beginning this year, every classroom has a picture of St. Ignatius (fondly referred to by most of the teachers as "Iggy") with a brief bio next to him, and teachers are going to be trying to talk more about him and about the Jesuits (who, in my opinion, are the best priests ever).  Also, on a school wide level, the students are going to be doing a brief Examen at the end of ever school day.  The Examen, a reflection based on Iggy's Spiritual Exercises, that DMS is going to be using is from the book, Sleeping with Bread: Holding What Gives You Life.  I'm hoping become the proud owner of a copy of this awesome book sometime soon.  If you go to this link on Amazon's website, you can view a good chunk of the book.

The story behind the title is pretty sweet too:
During the bombing raids of WWII, thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care. But many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food. Nothing seemed to reassure them. Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace. All through the night the bread reminded them, "Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow." (Linn, Dennis et al, Sleeping With Bread, p.l)

{image found here}

Weekend Snapshots

{Mariachi Plaza entertainment for the new Farmer's Market Friday night}

{view from my beach towel Saturday}

 {those little black dots in the water are surfers}

{Colleen with the best beach treat ever!}

Ahh... the life of a JV in LA.  We went to the Farmer's Market on Friday hoping to see a comedian who is from Boyle Heights, but we arrived too late, so instead we snacked on free samples from booths and listened to mariachi music.  I felt like I was in the audience of a Lawrence Welk show... except I had no idea what anyone was saying because all of the music and the announcing was in Spanish.  Saturday we decided to make the trek out to the beach, somewhere north of Santa Monica.  The waves were strong enough to attract surfers, so we got to watch them do their stuff for a bit, play in the waves, and relax in the sand.  Halfway through the afternoon, Paula pulled out a watermelon from her bag along with a huge butcher knife and right there on the beach, sliced it open and cut us each ginormous chunks.  I'm sure we looked quite barbaric, eating off the rind with juice dripping down our chins, but it was definitely worth it!

Lessons This Week:

A few of the lessons I learned today:

1. L.A. is a really hilly city.  It looks like nothing compared to the Bay Area, but those rolling hills are killer on a bike.

2. LA is not a bike friendly city.  There are absolutely no bike lanes, which may be why most people ride on the sidewalk.

3. All bikes are not created equal.  And having a semi-inflated tire is a lot more challenging than a properly inflated tire.

4. Say hi to people, even if they are staring at you like you look like an alien.  They will respond with a 

5. Making exaggerated faces that say, "Holy cow, you're getting way too close to me!!" or "AHHHH", don't work.  People will still drive crazily.  

6. I am so amazingly blessed to have a car at home.  Riding your bike to work or walking is tough work and just knowing that I have a car as a resource is such an amazing thing.

7. I finally understand/realize why some people from lower income situations haven't traveled very far from their cities.  Gas is expensive, cars are expensive, etc.  I knew this before, but the reality of it hit me like a brick today.

8. Walgreens/CVS/etc... mark up prices waaaay too much.

9. Riding into downtown LA can be scary.  Especially near freeway entrances.

10. Bikes are not heavy enough to trigger weight sensored stop lights :(

11. Not really a lesson, but just something I keep experiencing.  Every time I ride to work or to the store, I get so many stares.  It's like I'm not supposed to be there because of my skin color or my hair color or my clothing.  It's sort of making me understand how minorities feel on a daily basis, but not really because I still feel like I must be carrying along that white privilege.  Maybe it's all in my head, but I somehow feel that even though I don't "belong" here, people look at me in a more curious way, not a skeptical or suspicious way. 

*Note to self: unless you want to look like a super prep/Mormon on their mission year, don't wear navy blue shorts, white polo, boat shoes, and a backpack while riding a bike.*

Dedication

 

"Maryknoll Sisters: El Salvador Martyrs": A brief account of the four martyrs for whom the Los Angeles casas are named.

Last Day of Tourist Activity

I just realized that I probably write way too much; I'm just really excited and amazed by everything I'm experiencing.  And it’s kind of funny that I assume that people care enough about my daily schedule to keep posting these hour by hour updates of what I’m doing.  I promise I’ll only highlight super cool stuff in the future.  So here’s my last day of tourist activity:

Earlier when I was talking about our casa, I don’t think I mentioned the car that came with the house.  It’s owned by the school who was gracious enough to allow us to use it for the duration of the year and while I am very thankful for access to a car, the car itself is quite an interesting gift.  It is a early 1990s Toyota Paseo, nicknamed by a previous group of JVs, the Red Barron.  One of the doors doesn’t like to work because it was broken into last year, the middle seat is missing a belt, and the back window is so slanted that you sort of have to hunch over.  We look like a clown car.  We’ve been joking that the car and the break-in were all part of an inside JVC master plan to make us the closest community ever since we have to practically sit on top of each other, we have no radio so we only have the option of talking to each other, and the car’s quirks are able to freak us out enough to bring us together over share nerves. 
Yesterday though as we were driving back from Venice Beach, there was quite a bit of traffic on the freeway and at one point, cars in our lane came to a sudden complete stop.  Reacting as fast as possible, we slammed on the brakes.  The car skidded and squealed and in the split second between hitting the car in front of us and stopping short, all I could think of was our car as a little metal ball.  For those of you who didn’t hear about the accident in St. Louis a couple weeks ago, there was a four vehicle pile-up (semi, pickup, and 2 school buses) in which the pickup got wedged under the school bus and was completely unrecognizable as a truck.  God was looking out for us today though because we did stop and everyone was okay.  But I'm not telling you this story to freak you out; instead, it was an amazing moment in which I was able to see God in everyday life, something that I want to be much more mindful of this year and in the future. 
As I sat there shaking and in shock, my casamate, Dana gently put her hand on my arm and asked how I was doing.  Clearly, she also was scared by this experience, but instead of worrying about herself, she reach out to me demonstrating selflessness and love despite the fact that I've know her for only a week.  Maybe it was just a reflex for her to reach out and comfort those around her, but I felt embraced by the presence of God through her action and I was inspired to better think about how my actions affect those around me.      

On a happier note, some fun pictures from our day in Downtown LA, Santa Monica, and Venice Beach:

 {lunch at Homegirl Cafe: delicious food + amazing mission}

 {pretty flags by Olvera Street} 

{mountains and the beach?!  crazy awesome}

{flashbacks to The O.C. anyone?}

{Venice Beach - cool, minus the drug deals I saw going down}

{Dana, Greg, Colleen, me}

A Smile

Every time I run through our neighborhood or walk the streets, there are always people out, walking, playing with kids, socializing with neighbors.  I've been trying to say hi to everyone I pass, young or old, homeless or in their yard, for variety of purposes including: to spread cheerful thoughts, to become more accepted by our neighbors, to see the surprise on people's faces when I acknowledge them, and to see whether or not they respond.  I tried this in St. Louis too as sort of a social experiment to see the difference in frequency of responses based on race, perceived socioeconomic status, male/female, etc. and noticed that people's responses did differ greatly.  Anyway, the point of this rambling is that I think it's very interesting to see people smile in surprise at a stranger's kindness or simply their acknowledgment.  It's so much easier to ignore homeless people or turn your head to people different than you, but I think there is a lot of power in a smile.  You never know whose day you could help turn around :) 

Hola Casa Ita Ford!

I'm finally here!  We got to LA two days ago, but without the internet in our house, it's been difficult to update stuff and with all the excitement of being here and meeting with people, time has been rather scarce.  So I’m sitting in our local Starbucks, thankful for their newly added free unlimited wireless!  Yay!  It’s weird how comforting it is to be back in, as Dana says, Starbs.  From the paint color to the smells to the green aprons, the atmosphere brings back familiar memories of catching up with high school friends, morning coffee with Adam, and studying for classes and is able to transport me back to feelings of home.  I’m in love with the realization that this is going to become my home!

But before I jump ahead of myself…  After driving down in our fleet of rented Dodge Chargers (riding in style, right?) for all the LA and San Diego casas, Dana, Greg, Colleen, Paula and I arrived at Casa Ita Ford.  Our house is named after Ita Ford, a Catholic sister who, while serving as a missionary in El Salvador, was raped and murdered by a military death squad (when I learn more about her, I'll update you all!).  We were greeted by our land lady Celia, who lives in a house right in front of ours, so our house isn't actually on the street.  She quickly came over to introduce herself and make sure we are going to be good tenants.  She’s doing her part to a T to keep up in line, complete with a meeting the following day and a plethora of post-it notes scattered around the house with instructions for us on care and upkeep. During her meeting, she repeatedly referenced other JV years (we’re the 17th year of JVCs living in the house!) and their mistakes (ex: “those girls in group 15 thought it would be a good idea to sunbath on the roof, so now you can’t”, “that pot smoker in Group 5”, “the bed bugs in Group 16,” etc…).  Her semi-neurotic personality must be somewhat of a legend because when we went around to placement sites and met our support couple, they all asked about her with slight humor in their voices. This should be  a fun year!  Her dog, Trouble, also gave us a warm and noisy welcome.  After we got a little settled, our support couple, Brady, who served in LA as a JV about 5 years ago, his wife, Christina, a Los Angeles native who he met as a JV, and their 14 month old son, Ben (we want to make him a shirt that says "#1 Support Baby"), arrived with beer, pop, pizza and encouragement.  Their friend, Andrew, who actually had my placement 5 years ago, also came.  Andrew is a SLU graduate too (with a history degree!  crazy...) and after his JV year, he stayed on with DMS as a 4th grade teacher for 3 years, and recently transferred to work in a nativity school in St. Louis.  It was awesome to get to know them and hear about their experiences during their year, as well as knowing that they will be always present to provide us with support, encouragement, and prayers.

  {Casa Ita Ford!}

{Trouble... don't let his smile fool you}

Yesterday was a packed day, as we toured everyone in Casa Ford's placements, chose our rooms, and walked around our neighborhood a bit.
 

{Dolores Mission Church}

 

We began at Dolores Mission School with a presentation from Ms. Moreno, the principal.  She told us that to educate one student at DMS, it costs $5,600.  The highest tuition that anyone pays though is only $2,200 and only 7 families right now actually pay that. After a lengthy consultation with the family and the administration, a certain tuition is set for the family that reflects their needs and abilities.  Since some of the families in the school only have an income of around $15,000 a year, the lowest tuition right now is $20 per month.  Talk about quality education for all!
 
We then walked over to the church across the street and talked about the Guadalupe Homeless Project, a shelter, soup kitchen, employment help, etc.  80 men are able to be in the program at a time, for a maximum of 3 months.  Ranging from new immigrants to people who have been in the US for over 15 years, but are now homeless, the men literally sleep in the church, using the pews as beds, eat their breakfast and dinner in the school cafeteria, and are taken out to work sites to try to find employment during the day.  They are also offered English classes and other enrichment activities.  This reuse of space and resources is a theme that was constantly repeated throughout the day, along with an overwhelming strong sense of community.  As we learned the history of the school, church, and agencies, we kept hearing about programs that grew out of community need.  For example, the mothers in the community wanted a preschool for their kids, so when a priest won Jeopardy, he used his money to buy a house next to the church which was converted into a preschool.  Parents needed help understanding the process of how to get their kids into college, so DMS and Proyecto Pastoral (the agency Colleen works at) got together to work with parents to create pipelines for kids, outlining the importance of education and parental involvement at every step.  They also work to keep kids off the streets in after school programs, a newly created summer camp (started by moms and older women of the community this summer through a $10,000 grant from the city that they lobbied for), and by helping parents find money to keep their kids in Catholic schools through high school, in order to try to avoid the extremely high drop-out rates of public schools in the area, drug use (the school next to DMS currently has a horrible ecstasy problem), and gangs.
 
We then ventured to Greg's future placement, The Los Angeles Center for Law and Justice, which specializes in free legal representation, education, and advocacy for the low-income communities of LA.  It was the last day of work for the summer interns, so as a good-bye party for them and a hello welcome for Greg, we got to join in our their delicious lunch which included homemade carne asada.  There are such great benefits of living in a little Mexico :)

After our tour at Proyecto Pastoral, the director told us about a 12 hour indoor/outdoor music fiesta/benefit/extravaganza going from 2pm - 2am in Downtown Los Angeles called the 1st Annual Visionary Sounds Music Festival Saturday.  We decided to venture out with another one of the LA casas and caught some of the later groups at La Cita Bar as well as scored some free Mexican sodas left over from afternoon parties.  Even though I had absolutely no idea what he was saying, my favorite group was Perrozompopo from Managua, Nicaragua. (According to Wikipedia he's one of the most influential up and coming singers in Nicaragua and most of his songs are calling for social change and discussing the political climate of the country.)  Supposedly they don’t venture out of Central America much, so we definitely lucked out!  I just wish I knew how to salsa dance so I wouldn't have looked like such a complete gringo.   

{I forgot my camera, but the lead singer definitely deserve a picture on my blog} 

 

{Image via: Perrozompopo}