Two Cities

If it is indeed better when you are moving, and I am always asking myself if it is, then constantly moving back and forth between two cities should be great. And it is, mostly. There are good things and bad things. Good, like getting to shop in Chicago and then relax at home in Milwaukee. Or good, like working my tuckus off all week and then enjoying time with the main squeeze on the weekend. But it is bad, like not being able to stock a fridge anywhere properly. Bad, like Sunday evening traffic and lots of time in the car or on the train. I should be really good at packing by now though. Or really good at buying two of everything... but I haven't aced either of those yet.
When in Chicago I miss Milwaukee all week. When in Milwaukee, I miss the opportunities to actually enjoy Chicago. The first time I lived there I worked so much that I never felt at home. The same thing is happening now. I work there. I home in Milwaukee. Eh. It is what it is.
Time to put things in the car and drive back to the Second City.

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.