the art of food and friends

 8/26- Fundraising Day

It feels like I've been up for eternities. I'm leaving the country in a week and it's finally hitting me. Something I've never got to do is something I'm now doing. It's funny how it happens like that, and so fast. How you end up doing things you thought you never could do, never even fathomed, always been a dream or out of touch. My only hope is I grow closer to the people here that I'm traveling with. 

It was so fun to cook with my roommates and a few volunteers last night. We were in the kitchen until around eleven p.m. making Fritada de Chancho (sounds a lot like muchacho, but it's just orange pork) for the fundraiser lunch today. Once we got the spanish music pumping we just vibed and sliced pork and chopped tomatoes for the Pico de Gallo. I was especially excited to help out with making the sweets, however, and we pulled out the strawberry cake mix and made pink brownies which were the best things I've ever seen. My roommate Jordan mentioned how it's pretty funny that my favorite color is pink yet I don't own or wear anything pink at all, and I agree. 

After cooking and prepping the pork, cookies, brigadeiro (a Brazilian chocolate dessert that gives you cardiac arrest after one small bite), and strawberry brownies, I continued to help fold napkins and silverware the fancy-hospitality-hotel way until we finished what felt like hundreds of them--all while talking a
bout the spiritual realm and how dangerous it is to explore that area without running into something dangerous. I really treasure the deep conversations that come up out of nowhere. It's so interesting to listen and to hear other people's perspectives and then share yours and then expand the capacity of your mind. To sink in other people's words and think, Wow, I've never really considered things that way. It's really something about being up so late that makes others open up willingly, and expose things about themselves they never would've voluntarily shared before. It's like a secret key, a secret lock, and as soon as the sun sets the mood switches and everything gets personal and deep. It gets real and you can see inside the people you're talking to; as they become transparent. It is so so beautiful, the way humans work and connect in that way. Like deep down, we all really desire to confide in each other and connect even if we try to deny it. We crave that feeling and that closeness and that longing to be seen. We all want to be perceived, to be real. And that's something all of us share.

Anyways, after that long night of cooking followed a long morning of squeezing orange juice and boiling apples for cider. Ecuadorian food is so amazing and so refreshing--and personally, I didn't know making apple cider was so easy until now. We finished everything right before the guests arrived and people generously donated as we handed them their delicious-smelling food (mostly old people, but hey, we don't discriminate). I also snuck some pork and cider in my stomach to keep me from passing out. About two hours later we had our grand total, and we jumped up and down and thanked the Lord and shouted and hugged. Our international OR was becoming a reality thanks to everyone's amazing hard work. I'm really going to miss these moments when everyone leaves.

One of us had the idea to give our multitudes of leftovers out to the homeless people in downtown Salem (God really does multiply, and it's so amazing!), and with two hours left before our next fundraising activity we were up to the plate for anything. After packing up all the food and grabbing some last-minute rides we rushed downtown and blessed some people with some good home-cooked food. It struck me to interact with homeless people, it's always been something I've been taught to avoid (and for a good reason too--safety is important, don't get me wrong) but when it's safe and done in the right way it can be beautiful. These people are really living life day by day with nothing but the clothes on their backs and what they're given, sitting around with shopping carts and dogs and blankets and fold-up chairs. I really want God to bless these people, they don't deserve to be victims to drug abuse, even if that's what got them there in the first place. No one deserves to have to live that life, but it's such a cruel world we live in, and it's disheartening to remember that some things are reality simply because it's our reality. It's a shame and it's a chance for hope. A chance to spread that hope, to look into people's eyes and feel the light and warmth rising in you from a fellow human, just living life, acknowledging that you're acknowledging them. 

After that long first half of the day, we moved on to our last half, which included watching eleven children from ages 2-10 for three hours. Honestly, I'm making it sound worse than it seems, because with all the help it felt really easy and fun. The kids were patient and non-temper-tantrum-ish and by the end of that day we looked at our results, and God blessed us. We reached our goal in exactly one day, and everyone is fully funded to go to Spain and North Africa! It always happens at the last minute but it happens, and I will forever quote that. God just loves to keep you hanging on the edge of your seat for some reason, anticipating a change until the last possible second when He says, Surprise! I had it all along. And He did, and He does, and He's so good to us. I will forever never ever deserve it, yet He hands it to me with loving hands. He holds me with a loving embrace and gives me all the things I don't deserve, and I have no choice but to accept it. To look into Jesus's eyes and believe that love is real. And believe that love is Him.

8/27- fooling around

I apologize in advance for my poor writing as I can't really think straight right now (too much going on in my mind). Anyways, a great way to not think about the fact that we're leaving the country in a few days is to leave campus for a whole day and just go with the flow. Our diverse and dysfunctional little family group went out to eat crepes and drink coffee (I haven't had a crepe in forever and it was so refreshing). It was like a whole little French press taste-testing fest, and by the end I was hyper with the taste of Christmas and tiramisu and butter pecan in my mouth. 

There's not really much to say about this day but that someone else left our group and now we're down to seven people traveling to Spain when we started out with nine (which was supposed to be ten in the very first place), so God is really narrowing down our group for some reason. It's sad but most of the people I love are still here so that's all that matters. And we still have a whole lot of days ahead of us.

This week is really a time of reflection. At how fast time flies (I can't remember if I said it before, but I'll say it again). Reflection on how much we've changed in just a few weeks and how much more we'll be changed after Spain and North Africa. How much we'll grow, the people we left behind (I'm definitely feeling deja vu with the words I'm writing right now). I'm really realizing that wrapping things up and bringing closure is important before you leave a place behind. So, on that note, either last night or the night before (it's hard to remember) I finally went back up to the prayer chapel where some traumatizing things happened and I faced my fears, leaving with peace and closure. Things may not be all happy-go-lucky but at least there's people here to help me escape from that trapped spot in my mind, who also wish to be released from that spot as well.

Anyways, after the coffee shop we went straight to a Mexican restaurant and ordered flaming fajitas and laughed about bowel movements like a bunch of twelve-year-olds. Probably because we are. I wish we could lose track of time like this whenever we wanted to. Hold onto memories, breathe them in, let them go. I will forever remember everyone's smiling faces around me as I ate blood-red strawberries, and creamy mushroom shrimp. These last few moments with everyone in America is what will count the absolute most, and I think it will really click once we're all gone. My best friend back in North Carolina called it moving on to better things, but I think I'd call it moving forward. I don't know if these things are better but they sure are sentimental. 

8/30- what is happening

Everyone is packing, preparing, doing their own thing.

I'm in my room, on my bunk bed, overwhelmed and typing here while my roommates are talking. The floor is a mess. We just door-dashed Chick-fil-A. The events of the past few hours are replaying in my mind backward and forward, and I'm trying not to think too much about them or my head will hurt. My focus playlist is currently playing Je te laisserai des mots.

We're going to be traveling soon, and I wish I was just on that plane already. It's so weird to think about saying goodbye, even though I'm coming back to stay. So, in order to help my brain feel at peace, I'm going to write things in order from the beginning of the day until now. 

The day started with School Intercession, and one of my classmates and I prayed for each other regarding the huge trip we were about to go on, and I ended up crying with what was shown to me in that moment. The words of God can be so moving sometimes, and I want it to always stay with me. No matter where I go, the reassurance of God will stay with me. We stayed in class to learn more about the countries we were going to, and then we had to write a Psalm/poem about the commitments we're going to make for the next few months. I attached it here, and I wrote this not knowing we were going to share it with the class (of course) so I excluded the last part because it felt sentimental and weird. 

After that I cleaned, signed a bunch of cards, fought bees, and apologized to my fellow New Zealand friend for not showing up to breakfast that morning. The blurs just keep on coming, and my mind is racing a million miles per hour. I love everyone here and I might not see some people when I get back, and it's so strange to think about.

Like every single friend group in the world--we're budding, blooming, leaving, growing. We connect with each other and build each other up, teach each other new lessons and then we go. In this case, it's the seven of us (which used to be nine, which was supposed to be ten) heading out to Malaga, Spain. The birthplace of Picasso (which I just recently figured out). It's all connecting, all the dots. I'm going to where Picasso lived, breathed, and then deteriorated. And I'm going in order to breathe new life.