Do Over

By now you've all probably stopped reading. I stopped posting, so I wouldn't be surprised. I have to tell you that I moved back to Chicago this week. On Monday. I live here during the week and I work at the place that I stopped working at when I decided I needed to see the world. They called me and asked me to come back. They asked very nicely and I thought, since I'm in the habit of giving people second chances, "why not"?

The thing is, I'm pretty sure I just re-lived my 20's in the space of 15 months (most of the action happening in the last three). I left home, traveled the world, came back home, waited tables, got a career-type job and moved to Chicago. Somewhere in there I rediscovered a love I thought I'd lost. Same love that loved me when I got the same job and left Milwaukee the first time. Now, I'm thinking to myself, usually when people get a chance to start over, they usually do something completely different. Not exactly the same thing they did the first time. There is also this concept that the definition of being crazy is doing the same thing again and again but expecting different results. Smoke on your pipe and put that in. So here's the thing: I expect that I will gain satisfaction from my job, that my love will love me and not leave me, and that somehow I'm still going to be able to design furniture. I'm pretty confident that all of these things are not only possible, but are actually going to happen. No seriously, it's weird. I feel good.

 Of course, there is also the idea of the "Do Over". When you are playing the game with all of your heart but you just do it wrong, try to fix it, do it wrong again, your pals are getting annoyed and then somebody yells "DO OVER!". Nobody's mad (except the one guy who really got it right this time) because everyone involved recognizes that the game just can't be recovered from there and mostly everyone would've liked to do a little better. There's laughter and the game resets and you start over. One more time, from the top. This time with feeling. Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch... again. And that connects with... walk, walk, walk.

So have I just gotten a full life do-over? Ha HA. That's pretty funny. But it's cool. I'm game. I'll check it out and see what I can do better this time. I'm not doing anything else. But that is what I always say. So maybe this time I AM doing THIS. Eh? Maybe that's the difference. Maybe this time I can make a commitment and commitments can be made to me. This time I will take the time to get it right. Now I will understand that others are trying to do right by me and I will give them the time to do that. Perhaps I will stop running away. I was so relieved to be able to run. I've been wanting to do that since February 9th, 1998. Everyone told me "Don't run. Stay here and deal with this." But I was running all the time anyway even if I didn't go anywhere.

I think I got it out of my system. I think I am ready to be good and work hard and try hard and dedicate myself to things. I am looking at larger goals than just where I can get to quickly (as long as it is not here, dontcha). How's that for a first round of world travel processing?

God, I hope I get it.

Moving In Different Ways

I made it all the way back to Milwaukee after having started out right here. I started out here in 2006, really. I left this place to make a better life for myself, to achieve greater career goals. I didn't think I would be back here ever again. And now I have a home here. Not an apartment. Not another temporary place to store my things and collect dust bunnies under the bed.

I wasn't sure I would make it back here when I set out on the first airplane to London. I had fears inside of me that one of the planes on my journey would be the one that doesn't make it off of or back onto the runway properly. I prayed every time up and every time down. With all of those ups and downs the same spot on the planet came back to rest under my feet. I didn't come back the way that I went, just kept going all the way around the world. I didn't come back the same person that went, but a slightly reconfigured and more confident one. I suspect it is called maturity. Worldly knowledge has been gained and the process of figuring out what to do with all this growth has begun.

I fear that I have stopped moving by returning here. Have I made such great strides forward to fall back to where I began? Or is it true that you have to make the journey to find out where you were was the best place to be? Either way, being back has filled me with mixed emotions and the tremendous task of doing what I said I was going to do. What I said I was going to do is acquire the skills I need to build furniture and to support my skill building with stable work in the service industry. And then eventually build the furniture and design the interiors full time and let the Directing of Happiness and Well-being be something more than making sure everyone on both sides of that delicious plate of food are happy. The goals are quite large but I think I remember reading somewhere that if you check in to see that in every day you are doing something to further your goal then you are on track.

So what did I do today? I spent a few hours working on designing a coffee table for the house. This is something that will be a collaboration between both members of this household and a test of future collaborations. Working out wood patterns and construction details along with personal desires and aesthetic preferences, communication styles and finding limits. And then I also baked a banana bread on the Presto Pizza Pizzazz. Because ultimately It Is Better When You Are Moving and therefore banana bread is better when it is baked on a moving disc. I have also proven that I really don't need anything in my kitchen besides a Pizzazz. This means that the sky is the limit. Or rather the pie pan is the limit. I will now commence attempting all baked dishes on the Pizzazz. Anything that fits in a 12" pie pan is fair game. Quiche is next, and after that... who knows.

For You, Ma

Packing

I have just a few more days left in India before I resume my journey around the world. I am a bit concerned that the amount of treasures I plan on bringing back to the states does not fit in my luggage. Gulp. I packed up a box of gifts to have shipped home and discovered that it will cost me 7,000 rupees (about 165 USD) to have it sent home. So.... now, this is a totally ridiculous sum of money in my estimation. I can't decide if I should try to cram everything into my suitcases and lug the heavy things the rest of the way home, risking airline weight limit violations, bag searches and spinal damage or if I should suck it up and spend the cash to mail the box and flit easily through the airports in the Middle East, Asia and San Francisco. Oh man oh man, I totally just want to put it on my credit card and ship the box but I am feeling super guilty about spending that kind of cash on sentimental trinkets when that sum is a third of a year of school for one of my new best pals here in India.GUILT.

Any suggestions? I mean, one doesn't go all the way around the world and not bring back some gifts for pals, and it is a tiny box only about 6kg, less than the weight limit for a carry-bag. Maybe I should go home and try repacking and see what happens.

Final Program

For the past few weeks the LIFT students have been dancing and drama-ing their hearts out every day from 7am until 10pm. Each day ends with a dramatic program in which one of 4 groups presents a major drama of their own design (plot and directing) as well as a welcome speech, a prayer song, some dialogues, a monologue and a commercial or two. After each performance there is about a half an hour of feedback where the other students, teachers and adult mentors give the kids critical feedback about plot, staging and overall performance and how that relates to leadership skills. They are amazingly talented and there is a lot to be said, both good and constructive after each day.

At this point, I don't know how many days we have been doing this, but everyone is exhausted. Tomorrow we leave for a summer camp road tour to Coimbatore, Ooty and one other place I can't remember the name of. This tour marks the beginning of the end of my time here. I have completed the major project I set out to do, which was collect portrait photos and profiles of all the students so that the Chicago LIFT team can create individual sponsorships for each child. This will be an amazing project when it is complete and I hope with all of my heart that we will be able to secure donors for each child. The sponsorship levels to take care of one grade schooler's needs for a full year of shelter, food, health care, transportation and school fees is $500, $1200 for a college student. Not so much when you think about it, yet it means the entire world to each of these kids. Literally, their entire world. I wish I could speak Tamil and fully understand how brilliant they are. I can tell just by watching, and the little bits of English conversation we have. But I think my mind would be blown to actually listen to all they have to say.

A few days ago, one of the college girls told me her life story in broken English. I knew that she had come from a family of five sisters and as the sixth girl in the family, her parents wanted to kill her instead of pay to bring her up and pay her dowry upon marriage. She narrowly escaped being murdered by the words of her grandmother who claimed the child looked like the Virgin Mary and prayed that she be spared. All of her life she was told she should have been killed whenever some chore was not satisfactorily completed or some other such dissatisfaction occurred. Her home village has no water, no well, no nothing but huts. Walking to the next village was the only way to get water and other supplies. This was also the only way to get anyone to a medical facility for health care. The sick, the elderly, the pregnant had to ride on bicycles or walk to the next village to get aid. So during grade school, this girl worked a part time job picking jasmine flowers for 30 rupees a day. She saved this money and used it to help poor people. Ok, so are you getting this? She is coming from the most destitute of destitution and yet still gave her money to buy shoes for babies and help others. Now she is studying to be an accountant and has great plans to help her native village get roads and a hospital and water. I almost cried when she told me the story, but I didn't want to let on that I know of a world so much different than hers. I only wanted to praise her and help her get there. Which I promise I will do. 

Not everything these kids say is so noble however. Here are a few priceless gems:

"Sarah, where you eyebrows?"
"Sarah, you have red spot on face. What is?"
"Sarah, this outfit not suit you"
"Sarah, why face so dull?"

Sigh....

Ok, Fine. We Can Talk About The Weather.

So it is hot here, as you may have heard. In the 100s every day, in the shade. Sometimes there is a breeze, but not often. Sweating profusely is normal. When I decided I would come to visit the LIFT kids during their summer camps, I was optimistic. I knew it would be hot, but really, how bad could it be? I'm a girl scout. I can handle anything. Except for this heat. By 9am I have to sit down. By 11am I am fighting to not pass out from the heat. Let's not even talk about 2pm. At the beginning of camp I started learning dances right along with the kids, my enthusiasm overriding my body's sincere requests that I stop moving or else risk severe pain. After two days of dancing and then collapsing in a heap for the rest of the day, I decided it would be better just to watch. How sad. I was truly sad, but then I had the wonderful sensation that I was not, in fact, dying and that smoothed things over. It is very frustrating to not be able to use your body. Walking, eating, everything feels like trying to do areobics in a sauna after getting out of an hour soak in a hot tub. Muscle fail. I feel terrible, too, because the kids are running around like crazy without feeling it at all, and I am the hippopotamus in the corner trying not to doze off. My next visit will be in December. This is just silly.

Dance, Dance, Revolution

Three weeks and counting... On the day that I wrote my last post, I had the opportunity to talk with my Chef A and also Laura from LIFT Chicago. They allowed me to vent my frustrations and offered perspective and understanding. Overall, that whole moment was a breakthrough for me here. Since then, I have lightened up a lot. Not only have I started working on some of the projects that I am supposed to do for the LIFT Chicago crew, but I have just let go of my own notions of myself and what anything means to me. Because it is not about me. It is about these children and some young adults who are benefiting from the family, structure and opportunity that LIFT is providing for them. They are so optimistic and positive.

So I decided to relax and just be here now, so to speak. There is nothing I can possibly DO for these children. They take care of themselves for the most part and they have a good structure here. What they need is stability and continuity so they can keep on keepin' on and graduate, get that good job and have a good life for themselves and their families. I will be better equipped to help them with that when I get back to Chicago and can work in my world to help them in theirs. In the mean time, I am just here to watch, listen and learn. And what I have realized just recently, is that I also have the greatest gift to be a child again for a little while.

Two or three nights ago, myself and the college boys were on the roof of the Sweet Home having our evening discussion. I had brought a few mangoes up with us to snack on and my camp lantern to see by. They had brought a straw mat to sit on and complete innocent optimism and joy. It was their idea to go to the roof and talk under the moonlight. As the moon rose in the sky they requested that I turn off the camp lantern so that we would just be under the moon. They taught me the proper way to eat a mango, after politely watching me make a mess of myself doing it the wrong way. And there we were, just gleefully sitting under the moon, sweating profusely with mangoes in our bellies chit chatting away about school and swimming and practical exams about welding and family members and there were some songs sung after many bashful attempts to get out of the requests. I was completely happy. Not a care in the world, just this moment! I am relishing this feeling, hoping to keep it going as long as I can. I will never forget this moment for all of my life.

Today we started the summer camps. We are headquartered at the Chittikollum parish church where all of the students spend all day learning cultural activities. The hours between 8am and 10pm are spent dancing and bonding with each other. The first few days will be learning folk dances, after that there will be traditional street theater sessions that will teach the kids about creativity, self expression, teamwork, organization and leadership. At the end of each day, a group of students will put on a program (what they call a performance) for the rest of the group. It is the group's choice of what elements they will bring to their program. I can't wait to see what they come up with. As for me, I spent the cool hours of the morning learning four new dance moves with the upper level girls. It was so much fun I could hardly stand it. As a student myself, I had extensive dance training through my school programs. From grade 4 through 12, I had dance class every day instead of gym. I choreographed many many dances in my time which culminated in a major dance piece performed during my senior year of high school. So naturally, this totally rocks my world to be dancing again. I am so happy that I have almost forgotten about how many mosquito bites I have and the fact that my toilet stopped working.

Right now, I am awaiting a ride back to the church to have dinner with the children and see the first evening program. I have reapplied a layer of DEET, refreshed my camera batteries and am ready to go.