Tag: westtown senior projects

“Somos los Mismos”

On By phoebebarcelonaIn Uncategorized1 Comment

Well, it’s officially been one week since I arrived in Barcelona for my senior project! It’s quite incredible to think that I’ve already spent seven days here, completely absorbed in Spanish culture.  How do I even begin to describe all the places I’ve visited, all the things I’ve seen, and all the connections I’ve made? Honestly, I could go on and on, so instead I will try to summarize my experience thus far.

To begin, I -as well as the Westtown group- have visited almost every corner of the city in Barcelona. I’ve learned about the city’s history, seen the cathedral, toured the museum of modern art, and explored a number of the city’s neighborhoods. Tomorrow, we are going to learn about the modern architecture of the city, including the work of Gaudi. Most importantly for me, I’ve witnessed the everyday life and culture of Barcelona. This past weekend, for example, my host’s mother took me out around the city and for lunch I got a taste of Spanish tapas, a classic Spanish dish. They were delicious!

While we were eating, my host mom and I began talking about the differences between the lifestyle of Spain and of the United States. As we noted these differences, we also discussed that, aside from the differences in language and culture, people from the United States are no different from people from Spain. “Somos los mismos” was what my host mom said. In English, this means “we are the same”. Certainly, I’ve heard this idea repeated over and over again in school, but for whatever reason this conversation has stuck with me. Perhaps for me to comprehend this idea it was necessary for me to go away, leaving my homeland entirely and living with a different family. Whatever the reason, my host mother couldn’t have phrased it better. Indeed, my comfort with my host family is a clear indication that, aside from our linguistic and cultural differences, we all share many things in common with one another.

On the days when I haven’t been touring Barcelona and other sites, I’ve been attending classes at AULA. I have to say, things are a bit different from what I expected. After all, when I first arrived, I thought I was going to be able to take art classes such as drawing or photography in school. Contrary to what I thought, there aren’t any art classes at AULA! Students that want to do art have to do it outside of school because there is simply no time in the day for these kinds of classes. As a result, the artistic part of my project will have to be limited to what I do outside of school. I’ve been taking photos with my digital camera, as shown in my last post. I haven’t had enough time to use my film camera yet, but I plan to bring it along for my next visit in the city.

On a final note, the students at AULA are quite kind. This past Friday, we all went out as a class to visit the ruins of Ampurias as well as the small town of Cadaqués. The more time I spend with these students, the more comfortable I’m becoming with speaking Spanish to them. Many people have commented that I speak Spanish really well which has been the quite the confidence booster! Overall, I’m going to miss my host family and the AULA students when we leave for Madrid this coming Monday.

That’s about all for now! I hope to post again soon.

Phoebe

Photos – Cadaqués and Barcelona

On By phoebebarcelonaIn Uncategorized1 Comment

Here are some photos I’ve taken of our visits in Cadaqués and Barcelona. I’ve touched them up a bit and I’m sorry I don’t have more with people!! Thanks to my photo class, I’ve become more focused on taking pictures of my surroundings rather than of people I’m with. Anyway, I will see if I can put up some photos of me and the rest of the group sometime soon. Hope you enjoy!

Phoebe

Arrival in Barcelona

On By phoebebarcelonaIn Uncategorized2 Comments

Hello again!

After a long seven hour flight, we arrived in Barcelona, Spain yesterday around 9:00 AM. Upon our arrival, we met up with T. Jenny who teaches English in AULA. We then had a short breakfast and set off for our first day in AULA. Needless to say, we were all quite tired due to the jet lag and we passed the majority of our bus ride in silence. Despite the fact that I was so tired, I was inevitably captured by the beauty of Barcelona. Along with the beautiful architecture, Barcelona is situated right next to the Mediterranean Sea and thus the view of the city is mesmerizing.

We arrived at AULA around 11 AM and were given a tour of the school by a few students. Immediately, we were immersed in Castilian Spanish. In Barcelona, most people actually speak a mix of French and Spanish which is known as Catalán. Because we have only been taught Castilian at Westtown, the AULA students speak Castilian with us so that we may better practice the language. At first, I had trouble communicating with the students because I was intimidated by the speed at which they talked. Today, however, it was much easier to understand the teachers and the students. I’m still a bit scared to talk, but the more time I spend in AULA the more my mindset shifts from English to Spanish.

In terms of the school, it was a bit strange arriving at AULA. As we stood in the patio waiting to meet our tour guides, all the students stared at us and I could see them whispering with each other. Our tour guides later clarified that these kids were staring because the majority of classes in AULA don’t change very often. Indeed, most students have been attending AULA since they were only three years old. Given our experience in Westtown where classes change almost every year, this idea was certainly surprising.

After the tour and classes, each one of us went home with our host families for the night. Right now, I am a staying with a student whose name is Juan. Juan’s family lives in an apartment more towards the center of the city. Although I am far away from home, I feel quite comfortable with Juan’s family. They are all incredibly generous and in many ways I almost feel embarrassed by how much they do for me. For example, when I arrived here, I realized that I had forgot to buy an adapter so that I could use my electrical devices overseas. When I told this to Juan’s father, he immediately went and bought me an adapter. I couldn’t be more grateful!

After a long day, I went to bed yesterday around 8 PM and I got a full eleven hours of sleep. I’m pretty sure I’m over the jet lag, but I guess I will truly know later tonight. Tomorrow, our group is going to take a break from classes at AULA and we are going to visit a museum and a few historical sites in Barcelona.

I will be writing again soon!

Phoebe

More Pictures from the Studio

On By EmilyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

A skateboard designed by Baechler

 

Four works on paper

 

A portrait of Donald by Andy Warhol; he still hasn’t even unwrapped it from its paper!

 

Another portrait of Donald picking his nose by Andy Warhol, also still wrapped in paper

 

Some completed and one unfinished sculpture

 

The kitchen in the studio and one of my favorite of Donald’s sculptures

 

Two unfinished sculptures

 

Two unfinished sculptures, in different stages of process

Week Two at the Studio – Emily

On By EmilyIn Uncategorized1 Comment

I think it’s safe to safe I’ve accomplished a lot since last Friday.

I supported Planned Parenthood amidst a thronging crowd of 6,000 liberals and lesbians at Foley Square; I bought a new book by one of my favorite authors… and finished it; I had at least three, long, romantic conversations with strangers (and knowingly broke the most widely quoted rule of childhood); I went to a gallery opening in midtown, and another in Chinatown; I watched an almost painfully philosophical animated film about dreaming (no, not Inception) and later the Oscars (though not Inception); I went to a newly opened gallery show and met the artist (and his two pet goats, who wandered around as part of the exhibit); I walked behind Lady Gaga and made funny faces for the paparazzi taking her photographs; I composed a print to later be signed and completed by my boss, and I walked around the almost never-ending Armory Art Fair with the wisest possible of constant companions (Baechler himself).

A wise writer would have broken it up; just editing leaves me breathless.

For those of you that skipped the dense paragraph at the top, I’ll start with Saturday.

I woke up fairly early Saturday morning, with high hopes of making it to the start of the Planned Parenthood Rally in Foley Square, where one of my favorite bands (The Mountain Goats) would be supporting one of the  most deserving causes (Planned Parenthood,  which was proposed to be cut from governmental spending by the GOP to reduce the deficit and *punish abortion-lovers and baby-killers,* although, at least in my opinion, there would be far more abortion if women couldn’t have access to the free and accessible healthcare and sex education provided almost exclusively by Planned Parenthood).

Long story short and more sarcastic, the stimulus bill (and the improvement of public transportation and roadways) caused my subway to take me halfway through Brooklyn en route to Lower Manhattan (making what should have been a 15 minute ride a 50 minute one), and losing me my face-time with John Darnielle, lead singer of The Mountain Goats. *Whine!*

It was not all bad, though. The ill-placed track work gained me a friend – a beautiful young Parisian girl just as lost as me, if not a little more. She was headed for City Hall as well, (City Hall was the closest subway stop to my destination) on her last day of touring the city before heading back to France and school. We talked about our schools, (she was in 12th grade as well), and our plans for the future, as well as tipping each other on the most important unseen parts of the city.

We said goodbye under a rainstorm of pigeons, as she headed towards the Brooklyn Bridge with her Leica, and me towards the rally with my Holga. (Photography was, as we learned, a shared interest).

Despite missing the Mountain Goats, I did get to see a really wonderful Ukulele  player (Nellie McKay) and an endless string of liberal politicians and grateful patrons of the organization, as one after another they stood and spoke about their tireless devotion to Planned Parenthood.

After the rally, I wandered uptown, browsing through SOHO’s Broadway, and traipsing through the aisles of outsider boutiques and Chinese wholesalers (you can’t beat Pearl River… I got the most beautiful silk robe for $30!), until I reached Union Square and The Strand used bookstore, or, as I like to call it, Heaven.

I could write novels about looking through all the novels in there.

Most significantly, though, I bought the book A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore, whose short stories I’ve been digging up from all my old New Yorkers, and I met a dashing playwrite over a copy of Kafka’s Selected Short’s, who composed for me a lengthy reading list, among other things, and invited me for coffee.

The day ended tiredly, with sore feet from all my walking, and giddy smiles for all I’d seen and done.

Sunday and Monday we’re duds, with too much sleep and lazy movies, split up only by a little more laziness and Oscar-watching (Natalie Portman – how fabulous!), as Donald was out of town  and there was little to be done. I did get some painting done, though, finally remembering how airless my basement studio was after hours of paint fumes started to get to my head. Maybe that’s why I don’t remember much from that day! Oh well; Tuesday was marvelous.

Donald didn’t come into work again on Tuesday, though I had expected him to (as one assistant says, in the art world you have to choose between a boss who’s always there and always looking over your shoulder, or one who’s so laid back he’s unpredictable), so I stayed in, working on my artist’s book and helping photograph some of his earlier works.

Afterwards, I met up with two friends to see a gallery opening in midtown, where we talked laconically to the different artists involved and busied ourselves with observing the hipness of our surroundings, as I’ve spent much of my time here doing.

We finished the day with the tastiest Mexican food I’ve had in a while, and a sleepy train ride over the river to New Jersey, where shut-eye prepared me for the rest of an ever-intensifying work week.

Wednesday started off with a bang, as I went with two of my coworkers to their friend Darren Bader, who was showing at the Andrew Kreps Gallery in Chelsea. His work was fresh and interesting: a mixture of painting, sculpture, photography, music and film that captured the stark humor of the surreal and extraordinary, topped off by a pair of friendly goats that wandered the studio as we looked. I met Darren and took a photograph with him before walking back with the others, who had excitedly taken an artist’s book of his and fliped through its pages.

We stopped in Whole Foods before returning, and talked deeply about our impressions of Darren’s works. Once back, Donald had arrived, and we got to work photographing and cataloguing a bottomless pile of prints, each one intriguing and frightening and funny.

A bit later in the day, Donald took me with him again to Pace Prints, the printmaking studio that has been helping him with a series of monoprints to be shown in May at their associated gallery in Chelsea. Almost immediately, as I stood watching him compose the first series of woodcuts to be printed, he asked me if I’d like to compose one. Duh!

I happily arranged the carved, wooden faces in the jigsaw-like manner that he was using, choosing some of my favorites from the heaping pile on the table next to me. I quickly realized how much harder his job was than it looked, as he whipped out one after another before I’d even placed the core faces.

‘I’m done!’ I called, and he came over, smiling, and adjusting them only slightly, before giving me an approving look and tracing their shapes on the plexiglass to be printed. The other assistants congratulated me jealously as they saw my finished work, and I tried to hide my gloating pride.

(Two prints in the works, the bottom one I composed)

(The photo on the top shows two assistants re-touch some of the prints before signing, and the print on the bottom-right was composed by me)

Thursday, like Wednesday, started excitedly, as I walked behind the uncharacteristically normal-looking Lady Gaga on her way into Fuse NYC, a music television production studio, and dodged the mosquito-like paparazzi as they flocked around her, and, by proximity, me. Thank god I’m not famous.

I waited around the studio as Donald had meetings with various collectors and art dealers for our promised trip to The Armory, a relatively new, but increasingly important art fair on the piers of the Hudson River. The Armory takes up all of piers 92 and 94, and has, by now, spilled out into many smaller art fairs and shows across Manhattan.

While overwhelming, the Armory was incredibly inspiring; it encompassed in just two piers basically everything going on in contemporary art around the world, as well as a great deal of modern and post-modern works by almost every famous name in the business. And to have Donald as my tour guide – it can’t get any better!

(Works at the Armory. From top:  Rachel Feinstein, Jean Pagliuso, Henry Darger, Pablo Picasso, ???, ???, ???, Alex Katz,Philip Pearlstein)

All in all, my week has surely been one to remember, and as I’m sure you’ve seen, one with lots to talk about (I’ve left out so much even still!).

Tonight I’m off to see a coworker in an original musical called ‘Upon My Word,’ which she described as a ‘victorian sex comedy’, and later this weekend, I hope to check out a few of the fringe festivals happening around the city in the wake of the Armory.

I’m sure you’ll hear more from me soon!

– Emily

Week 2 – Caylin

On By caylinatbsmIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

It’s not surprising to me that I’ve gone six days without blogging again… I definitely regret not finding time sooner to post again, but I can’t complain about the reasons why. Most people could, probably, considering these reasons include days that start at 6:30 AM (AKA waking up at 4:30 AM). But not I! I think that I’ve thoroughly convinced Liam and others working at BSM that I’m a bit of a weirdo since I have been consistently arriving earlier than planned and truly wiggling my way into their community. The good news about that is that I don’t think they mind! Sadly, tomorrow is my last day as the temporary “intern-worm.” But now is not the time to discuss that, now is the time to reflect on the entire week that’s passed since my last post.

While last week was filled with discovery, this week was much more filled with disillusionment. Disillusionment is often cast as a very negative term, but I don’t mean it as so. I just mean that I found more than once that my first impressions of parts of BSM and the people who live and work in BSM were skewed. And so my idealistic, simplistic understanding of what BSM is all about fell short even by Sunday evening and continued to be challenged throughout the week. I was disillusioned from my idea that I got the picture, and through this I think that I was able to gain a deeper understanding of the work they do and the people who co-exist at the crossroads that is BSM.

Sunday was my third worship service. Previous to this worship service, I had walked away from the church after service feeling rather alienated by my own beliefs and a little bit wrong for having sat in with such a wonderfully faithful community while having confidence in my own, different, faith. BSM is a completely open community to those who are open to it, which I am, but it’s hard to feel completely comfortable in the midst of people who have something in common that you do not. To empower this feeling further, the topics of the previous worship services were ones that not only were hard for me to understand, but also that I felt did not bode well with BSM’s mission. But this Sunday, the topic was based on of the idea of mysticism and the “mystery of God,” both ideas which I definitely find myself more in tune with. In addition with feeling that I understood the sermon and the entire vibe of the evening, the music was absolutely fantastic and in the midst of it all I had a very strange, emotional conversation with a man who is a resident of the overnight cafe. So I walked away from this service feeling really spiritually charged. I think the disillusionment here was in the exclusivity of the church. I had always felt that being a Christian was either all-in or all-out, and really, at least in the eyes of BSM, it doesn’t have to be like that at all.

On Monday, I ran the mail service with the help from another volunteer, Kevin. I love helping with the mail service. The coolest part was being able to help people to sign up for the mail service. There were about 5 people who came in to sign up to make 315 S Broad their address, and so I would explain the rules, help them fill out the quick paper work, and give them a moment to just relax or to talk. A lot of the people who sign up for the mail service are in a time of transition, whether it is just becoming homeless, leaving a shelter, becoming homeless for a second or third time, or something else. This means that the majority of them really needed a moment to gather themselves. It was nice to hear from a few of them that just taking a moment to sit and talk with them made them feel a little bit calmer. But something interesting is that one woman had a strong complaint about the cafe. This was a huge disillusionment for me, as I had not seriously considered the perception that the people we helped had of BSM. It stayed on my mind a lot throughout the week, as I started to see not only what BSM does but what BSM sometimes fails to do.

After that, I stayed in Philadelphia to help with and attend Last Mondays, the monthly art performance by a Philadelphia art group Hybridge Arts Collective (which was fantastic).

Tuesday was a nice day. The biggest things that happened were two meetings, one with Liam and one with Erica. Meeting with Liam has been a challenge simply because I always feel like our meetings end before I’ve actually gotten to say what I mean to. I’ve attempted to translate to him what I’m getting out of my internship and I don’t think I’ve actually done so very well. But that’s okay, maybe it just takes more time and reflection before I can really articulate. My meeting with Erica went well. Liam helped me to set up meetings with almost everyone on staff so I can really get an idea of what piece they bring to the BSM puzzle and how it all fits together, and she is a pretty significant piece of that.

Wednesday was another one of those long days. I got to BSM around 7 AM and didn’t leave until around 7 PM. It was also a good day. I worked the extended hours again, which was great since I actually know most of the people who are there in the morning now and it feels like a really familiar space. I talked to Liam about the woman who complained to me about the staff at the Cafe on Monday in an attempt to understand what initiatives BSM takes to gather feedback from guests about what they do well/not so well. They held a forum a while ago to get feedback, but it did not go so well. This could be because of the extent to which mental illness is a part of the Cafe experience. I haven’t really touched on the mental illness part of BSM’s guests, mostly because it was another huge disillusionment for me. I want to talk more about it in conjunction with Breaking Bread and Friday’s extended hours, but first I want to finish Wednesday.

After the morning we had a training course in how to identify and deal with issues of domestic violence. This was really interesting, because the last VTGS meeting was centered on the same topic. (VTGS is the service learning course held at BSM that Liam runs). So I had been to a panel on the same subject, but I was excited to engage in discussion about it with a completely different group of people.
After this, we had a staff meeting. The best part of that was getting to babysit Joshua when he got fussy. His mom is a hugely integral part of the staff (not to mention awesome), so I jumped to give her a break while they finished up the business of staff meetings.

I did some menial work until around 6:30 PM, when it was time for the “No Holds Barred” bible study. Before this, I told Liam I was nervous, and the last time I went to a bible study was in 7th grade because they offered free donuts. My biblical knowledge is so lacking that it’s a little bit embarrassing in a religious environment, but he told me that it was fine and I could just view it as a “sociological experiment.” So I went, and as we began, I decided to actively engage, and sort of throw what little I knew on the table and see what held up. This was really interesting. When we first began, I read over the passage and didn’t see any significance to it. By the end, I think I understood most of the subtext. I wish I was going to service on Sunday to see what the sermon focuses on.

Thursday was Breaking Bread. I want to focus only on the mental illness bit I was talking about a little earlier. I wrote a while ago about the man I met at extended hours and how excited I was to connect with him. I learned soon after that day that he had some sort of mental illness. He seems to be OCD about things that don’t exist. Dirty city air getting everyone sick, snake venom on seats, dirt getting inside of his shoes and making him sick. As I’ve spent more time with him, I’ve seen it become more and more a part of my perception of him, which makes me a little bit sad. It’s amazing, however, that when he comes to talk to me, he really tries to act normal. He passes off his OCD as “everyone feels that way, you know?” or just avoids the topic completely. Mental illness is a part of almost everyone who BSM works with, whether it is a personality disorder, bipolar, OCD, schizophrenia, or something else. It’s really made me aware of how complex homelessness is.

Today, I worked extended hours again. I wish it wasn’t my last time for a while, as it feels really good to be on first-name basis with a bunch of the guests. I’m really going to miss the people I’ve met here, both staff and guests.

Tomorrow is my last day 😦 I’m going to the VTGS class, even though no one else from Westtown is… it feels sort of anti-climactic to end with the class, instead of a breaking bread or worship service or something that really lets me see the entire community before I leave. I guess it’s a fitting end, since the class is really what brought me in to BSM.

I know I didn’t really get to my “deeper understand of what BSM is,” but I am exhausted and need to go to bed! Look for a reflection post in a few days!

Caylin

This is My Change – Hannah

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It seems like just yesterday I was packing up my things and heading off to Washington D.C., but now it is Friday, March 4th and 4:42 pm and I’m sitting at my regular spot at the kitchen counter, typing up one of the final few posts recapping the trip.

Firstly, let me say that not only was the Washington D.C. trip incredibly fun and new and exciting, but it was also humbling and shocking (and in some ways depressing).

Let me recap yesterday.

Jeff had straight A’s in high school, has a college education, speaks eloquently, has a kind soul and a happy heart, and wants nothing more than to bring a smile to your face. Jeff has bipolar disorder. Jeff is formerly homeless.

Jeff sells papers for Street Sense, an organization that helps the homeless get back on their feet by providing them with a meager source of income. Street Sense is a paper written mostly by the homeless, focusing on homelessness issues in Washington D.C. and the world. Homeless individuals can buy a paper from the organization for 35 cents a pop, and then sell them on appointed D.C. street corners for 65 cents profit.

Yesterday our group donned the bright yellow uniform that designates a Street Sense vendor and walked past the White House, past several eateries, to K Street, a street infamous for lobbyists and nightclubs. For two and a half hours, from 10 am until 12 30 pm, our group scattered over a five-block radius and sold papers for the benefit of Jeff.

It’s unbelievable how cold some people can be. I found that many people walked faster when they noticed my luminescent yellow vest, and the great majority of people refused to make eye contact with me.

I would say, “Good morning sir/ma’am! Support the city’s homeless for a dollar?”

And you know how people answered 9 times out of 10? They said, “No, thanks.”

I remembered that Jeff said not to be offended, just smile and say “God bless,” or “Have a beautiful day,” but I just couldn’t understand. Nothing I said constituted a “No, thanks.”

You say no, thanks, when something is offered to you. You say no, thanks, when the flight attendant asks you if you want a drink. You say no, thanks, when you’re asked if you want all your hair chopped off.

You do not say no, thanks, when someone asks you to look into your heart to donate 1 dollar, just one dollar, to maybe better the life of someone else.

I did listen to Jeff and pretend it didn’t bother me that at least two hundred people passed me on that absolutely frigid morning and only around 12 of them bothered to pull a dollar out of their pocket.

There was one particular man who I remember. He had on a green tie, a pale blue shirt, and a black, very business-y looking jacket (he had pants on too). He crossed the block at least three times, and every time I asked him again if he would be willing to donate a dollar to support Jeff. Around 11 45, when I could hardly move my fingers any more and my toes were so cold they were starting to feel warm again, I saw him cross the street and walk purposefully towards me.

“I went to lunch,” he said and smiled, handing me a dollar, “This is my change.”

A lot of other stuff happened, and I’ll post about it later, but for now I’m just going to post a few more pictures!
Hope everyone is having a great break/ beginning of March!!

The two sides of Honduras

On By xela134In Uncategorized1 Comment

I´m afraid that I was mixed up the last time I posted, and posted in the wrong place. You can find my other posts at http://alexesinhonduras.wordpress.com/.

Today I find myself a long ways away from where I was the last time I posted, both physically and emotionally. After spending 2 weeks translating for the medical students, I traveled first to El Progreso for a night and then to La Ceiba, where I am now. I am going to school at the La Ceiba Bilingual School for a week before I depart to the states. My host family is incredibly nice, and everyone in the whole country is very friendly, but still it´s un poco stressful for me to be immersed in the language, combined with the need to be polite and happy for my hosts. Every day (today at least), my host family and I wake up at 5 in the morning, eat a quick breakfast, maybe shower, put on uniforms, and speed off for school at a little after 6. Today we were late, so my host sisters had detention, where they had to write 1000 lines. And I thought Westtown could be harsh – but luckily since I´m an exchange student I am impervious to rules. I still felt bad for Stephania and Rossanita, because they took the punishment and didn´t complain a bit. After 8 45-minute class periods and a 15-minute lunch, all the students had an hour or so before sports began to spend time and actually talk to each other, as if they didn´t talk in class. All of the students are polite and friendly, there are just some teachers who are overly forceful with rules. During the sports time, all the soccer players, futbolistas, run onto the field and kick balls around, much more skillfully than I ever could. After that, all the girls had volleyball practice, then everyone had dance practice. By the end of dance practice, it´s already 7 PM, a horribly long day. This is a good week as closure for my trip, to really test my abilities.

Last week, at the clinic in Santa Lucia, I finally was able to be useful as a translator, once I had learned all the important words. If the patient says ¨tengo dolor de todo el cuerpo¨ it means ¨my whole body hurts¨, and then they get diez pastillas de acetomenophin o ibuprofena, para tomar uno cada dia cuando usted tiene dolor – 10 acetaminophen or ibuprofen pills, to take one every day when you have pain. It´s really not super complicated, except for when the patient tries to tell you their life story in the middle of a consult. This tends to apply to most of the patients, so it´s my job to sort out useful information that the doctors want to hear from random facts about life. Sometimes that can be hard, especially when you had no idea you were going to be a translator and only have basic Spanish training. I came out alright, because I always had help if I needed it. This week, I´m not so lucky. I´ll try to keep you posted on how it goes.

-Alex

For Now By Lynn in Thailand

On By lynnieIn Uncategorized4 Comments

As the humidity of Bangkok is weighing us down, we managed to take a tour around the King’s temple, palace and street shops yesterday. It still hasn’t hit me that I am in Bangkok, almost half way around the world with my friends. We are having a wonderful time in the city so far, touring and experiencing the Thai culture.

Yesterday, after my blog post, our group went to the riverside to take the boat up to all the sights. First, right after we got off the boat, we walked around this open flea-market that sold all kinds of jewelry, food, drinks, shoes, bags, old coins, you name it and they had it somewhere along the streets. The King’s temple and palace were amazing. There was so much detail in the murals, the outside walls covered with jewelry and gold, etc. We could tell that the place belonged to a royal family. Another thing that was all around was the Buddha. There were temples that people worshipped inside the palace but photography was prohibited. But, we were able to see the “Reclining Buddha,”

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By the time we went to the palace, the boys had to put on pants because people with shorts were not allowed to even see the palace. That was something that everyone struggled with the most yesterday: dealing with the appropriate attire in the dead heat. The boys looked good in their pants, some wore them over their shorts. Anyway, we went inside to see the temple and the palace; and the outside of the buildings were spectacular. I think John-Michael was a really big fan of the gold temple. Maybe it was from the shock of the beauty of the buildings, but we were pretty tired by the end of the King’s temple. We managed to have fun at the same time.

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After the sight-seeing, we went to more vendors and each found a place to eat. I picked Pad Thai. Then we took the boat again, to climb this building. To be honest, I don’t remember the names of the places we went to. But there are pictures! This shrine  had really steep steps and we all climbed up to the top except Wei-Hao. His excuse was a bad shoulder… My knees also hurt while climbing up, but after seeing the view from up top, it was all worth it. The view was absolutely beautiful.

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We are all happy and safe. Tomorrow we go into Chang Mai. It’s pretty late right now. I promise I’ll blog about today tomorrow morning. I know I am behind, but there is more to come! Yay Thailand!

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P.S. if the pictures are not uploading, check out my flickr account, I will upload more pictures from Day 1 soon.

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February 25, 2011
Lynn

Days 2 through 4 – Caylin

On By caylinatbsmIn Uncategorized1 Comment

Every day at BSM introduces a whole new aspect of the organization to me. Which is awesome, but pretty intimidating to blog about after I let 3 days get away from me. But it’s also a good sign that I haven’t had time to blog for the past three days; it means I’m busy doing more pressing things and haven’t had a moment to sit and reflect. Anyway, today was reasonably easy and I was only there from 9:30 to 3. So, I’ve had a bit of relaxation throughout the afternoon, and now am relaxing even more at a friend’s house and boring her to death as I attempt to backtrack and reflect on everything that’s happened. I think it’s best to attack this day by day…

Tuesday: 10 AM-4 PM
Brittany showed me how the mail service works, so that I will be able to run it by myself next Monday. The best thing about the mail service, to me, is of course the face-to-face interaction with clients who use it. This was the first real interaction I’ve had with multiple homeless men and women through BSM, beyond dinner conversations during No Barriers Dinners and the like. Brief description of the mail service: it’s a program for people who do not have a viable address at which they can receive mail. BSM hosts over 300 people through the mail service. But one woman in particular struck me. I wrote something about it on the train ride home, really quickly, in order to not forget the details.

“They stole my medicine… they attacked me and stole my medicine. They will never fix this, the way they are doing things… they always attack me…” I hear her words before I even see her. Her voice is smooth and calm, yet disconnected. She enters the room with the same disconnected look in her eyes, wrapped in layer upon layer of leggings, scarfs, skirts, shirts, jacket, and hat. Her arms cradle a worn paper bag. “They stole my long underwear… it is too cold to walk to get any… I don’t have the money. It is too far, and they will attack me… I don’t look bad and I don’t do anything bad… but they attack me. In Athens, my husband’s property… it was in my name. But they took it and they took my long underwear. I’m here for my mail, do I have any mail?” Brittany greets her and looks for her mail. There is none today. I close my laptop and listen. “The same people who ruined my career, lost my money, they stole my medicine and ruined my long underwear. They attack me.” She stands in front of the desk as a man walks into the room behind her. He recognizes her and sits down, waiting for her to turn and leave. She doesn’t. She continues to speak in circles, pleading and gesticulating gently, and I stare at the wall in front of me. Brittany knows better than to interrupt. She continues for a few more slow, uncomfortable minutes, until she slowly backs out of the office, speaking in the same even, empty voice. As she turns out of the room, the man quietly picks up his mail and follows her to the door. He exits, and she stands in the doorway, out of sight, lost in her story.

It might seem like this encounter stuck with me just because of how strange and uncomfortable it was. But the one thing that got to me, more than anything else, was when she mentioned a “career.” Wow, she hasn’t always been this woman. Wow, this personality is a condition, a situation, an experience. Yet it has permeated her soul and affected her entire life. It blows my mind how things change for people. I’ve met people who’ve been homeless for years, for weeks, and even for only three days. And each story, however fragmented, broken, or false, is a testimony to humanity’s unfailing impermanence and the unjust nature of every day life. You know, that whole “life isn’t fair,” deal we all have to accept at one point or another.

Wednesday: 7 AM-9 PM

Wednesday was madness. I, of course, as the new intern, had a ball. But most of the staff were quite stressed out. Which is understandable! For some reason, around 5 events were planned for Wednesday night. The schedule we were handed at the staff meeting, which covered the late afternoon to end-of-the-night activities, was a page and a half long. A quick definition of the main event: No Barriers Dinner. NBD is a once-monthly community dinner, set up in the sanctuary, in which all are invited to participate in a dinner that is designed to break down barriers and build bridges between peoples who wouldn’t normally have the chance to connect. It rocks. You get to feel completely confident to sit down at a table filled with strangers, cause everyone else is doing it too, and jump into a conversation about anything and everything. But before I get to that, let’s start at 7 AM.

I came in so early to assist with the extended hours of 315 Cafe, which is BSM’s overnight homeless shelter. Not actually designated as a homeless shelter, the Cafe is designed to give people who are not able to find places in actual homeless shelters a place to stay. During a Code Blue (concerning weather and temperature), which it was on Tuesday night, around 75 people are allowed to stay at BSM. This was another amazing spot for me, as it offers the chance for a lot of connection with people. Because the people living at the cafe are allowed to stay until noon during the extended hours, many are more than willing to get involved in long conversations, art projects, or are just content to continue to sleep or watch a movie. I met a really sweet man and we talked for a pretty long time about a variety of random subjects. Wrestling, lacrosse, horseback riding, motorcross, where we live and where we grew up, stories from high school, pitbulls. This was my first chance to make a real connection, and it is so awesome now to see him at other events and be able to greet him by name, pull up a chair and feel like I am really a part of the community now that I know more people than just the staff.

The afternoon was filled with a lunch with Liam (which was great, he always has really good insight and is an intimidating conversationalist), a long and dull staff meeting (which was fine because what else are staff meetings supposed to be?), and hurried work to finish setting up for the NBD and volunteer fair and movie showing and choir practice and whatever else. During NBD, I sat at a table which initially felt really awkward and quiet. No one was interested in participating in a conversation, and I felt really intimidated and only tried, weakly, once or twice to engage them. But as the meal continued a few more people joined the table and all of a sudden I was thrust into this amazing conversation with two of the men at the table. Both residents of the cafe, they were open about their stories, how they got to where they are today, and their entire lives basically. The connection we felt was huge, on my part and theirs. This is the magic of NBD. We went down to the volunteer fair separately, but wound up together again and quickly heavy into another conversation. I realized something really important about myself through all of this: I fancy myself a “people person,” but it was hard for me to put myself out there. I am so used to people being inquisitive towards me that it was hard for me to start the conversation in an effective way. What a cool thing to notice. While it’s exemplary of my own egoist ways, it also rocks, because it gives me something to work on personally for the next week which will help me to become a better person in general.

Thursday: 9:30 AM-3 PM

Today was Breaking Bread. Breaking Bread is a lot like NBD, except it extends beyond a meal and is much more oriented towards people who are either homeless or in need of clothing, personal supplies, or simply human interaction. I worked in the third floor balcony, directing and helping a bunch of other high school seniors in organizing the absolute chaos that has resulted from the donations BSM has gathered over the years. These donations make up the clothing closet, which is a place for those who need clothing to come, browse, and take up to five items. It was hard for me at first to be working with high school kids, who are people I feel that I understand and am not often inspired by, while I knew that the people I had met yesterday and so many more were downstairs eating and interacting. But I got over it, since I knew how important it was to sort the donations. We worked there for about two hours, but then Jere, the personal care coordinator at BSM, asked me to help him within the Clothing Closet for the last hour of Breaking Bread, which was so awesome. It was a lot like being a personal shopper, in some weird world that would be run by thrift stores, and it was fun interacting with people in a way that it was really easy to make jokes about certain pieces of clothes and lighten up the mood. I saw the man I met at Wednesday’s extended hours again, which was awesome, and I met a bunch of other people. So all in all, my frustrations were answered.

A short reflection:

I love this internship. What I’ve been doing is what I want to do with my life. I could write about this forever and not even get to the really important stuff (obviously). Conversation is a really significant thing. Breaking down the barriers that are complete constructs of our culture is actually enlightening. And to circle back to the idea of hope I touched on last time: so many of the people I’ve met have pointed towards scripture or a member of the staff as the light at the end of their tunnel. They’ve spoken about how they’ve just held a staff member’s hand or gaze as they talked through an issue, and it helped them to turn their lives around. It is all just another example of how empowering support, hope, and another’s love (spiritual or interpersonal) can be, and I can see how, for so many people, faith can be a powerful foundation for this love.

-Caylin

PS- sorry for how long this is! Usually I would try to condense it in some way, but it is almost midnight and I plan to be on the road to be in Philadelphia by 5:50 AM tomorrow morning. So sleep is my most pressing desire. And expect pictures of: the church, funny staff members, an adorable baby, and some really amazing people sometime in the near-to-far future!