Abuse Happens: An Epidemic

Today I participated in a Church Women United event in Mesa, near Phoenix. Church Women United is an organization committed to seeking justice (particularly for women) and for doing so across denominations. Today at the event, we participated in several different workshops.

The first workshop focused on domestic violence. A long table was set up with various stations, labeled things like: Friends & Family, Hospital, Shelter, Forgive and Forget, Job, Funeral Home, Court, Religious Advice, Abuse Happens, and Return to Home. Each station had cards of different colors. At the beginning we would choose a color and follow that character through the various stations, sometimes returning places more than once and sometimes having choices. (For example, you could either go to the hospital or to a friend's house.) When we went to the Shelter, we had to flip a coin to see if we would be admitted, since often not enough space is available for everyone who seeks protection. Whenever we visited Abuse Happens, after reading our card we would put on a band-aid to represent that we had been abused.

I found this to be a very powerful exercise. I think it helped us to better identify with these stories. Instead of reading about something that happened to someone else, we read the cards as if this was something happening to ourselves. It also helped us realize how difficult the situation can be. For instance, some women were saying, "No matter what we did, no matter what we chose, we always ended up back at Abuse Happens." Others were saying, "We're being accused of violence by the courts, and that isn't what happened at all. We are innocent; we are the victim!"

My character was an immigrant, and every time I went somewhere I had to "wait 5 minutes for a translator." (Though in reality this wait would probably be longer, or I would not be given a translator at all, despite what the laws might be.)There was also the added fear that I would be deported or face some other kind of struggle since I was an immigrant. At the end of my story, I was living away from my abuser and I had two band-aids on my left hand. Some of the women were not so lucky; their stories ended in the Funeral Home.

After we finished the exercise, one of the women present confided in me that she had a daughter who had gone through this situation. Other women were not able to participate due to the emotional stress.

One of the most difficult things to think about was how common this issue is and yet how little it is talked about in the church. And, as our presenter said, our silence gives consent. When we say nothing, when we allow these things to continue happening, we encourage the violence to continue. This is especially troublesome when we consider the epidemic of misplaced blame: telling women that they deserve to be abused or that the abuse is somehow their fault. But there are no excuses for violence. It is a choice made by the abuser, and we cannot be silent. We cannot let women continue to believe that they are inferior or that this is their fault they are abused.

Our presenter provided some resources on how to address this issue. These were a few of the suggestions:

• preach sermons on the topic in Sunday service
• teach youth (and others in the church) what healthy relationships look like
• put  resource cards in bathroom stalls (where women can take them without anyone else seeing), called "Shoe Cards" because they can be kept in a shoe--so an abuser would not find it in the victim's purse
• learn how to support someone who is experiencing abuse 
• become educated domestic violence and what shelters/other forms of support are in your community

The statistics regarding the prevalence of domestic violence are heartbreaking. As the presenter said, "If domestic violence was the flu, we would be mobilizing."

Date Vinegar

On Friday, I tried date vinegar for the first time. Before I moved here, I did not know that such a thing existed. Thanks to the knowledge of Iraqi refugees, we are able to make date vinegar at the Iskashitaa office. (I have also learned that they make apple vinegar in Iraq, too.)

A little over a month ago they started the process with some immature dates. They washed the dates, removed the stems and vines (which were composted) and then filled large coolers with a mixture of dates, water, and yeast. This mixture is then left in a tightly closed container for at least 45 days. The coolers have been sitting outside the office ever since mid-December, and on Friday it was time for the first taste.

During the day on Friday, several Iraqi refugees came by the office to check on the date vinegar. Everyone who was there sampled it. I was surprised at the taste; I expected it to be bitter and/or unpleasant, but it wasn't at all. It was fizzy, and it had a flavor I don't know how to describe. (I will make an effort to think of a comparison the next time I try it.)

We have since replaced the bricks on top of the coolers, and as I understand it we will be leaving them out for a while longer until the vinegar is completely done.

Here are some pictures from the day the vinegar was started. All the photos are taken from the Iskashitaa facebook page. 

Dates on the vines. 

Five containers of dates have been fermenting since December. 

most likely to succeed

Last weekend I went to Flagstaff for a retreat with the Wesley Foundation. One of the devotions we did mentioned the idea of success. Our culture is obsessed with success. We go to school and to work so we can "be successful." We give up time, money, relationships, health, and more, all in the name of success. But what does it even mean to be successful? Does it mean having a lot of money and a comfortable lifestyle? Does it mean earning the highest degree from the most prestigious school? Does it mean finding the most marriage-able significant other or searching for fairy-tale endings? Is it still success if you have these things, but feel empty inside?

What are we willing to sacrifice to become successful? How do we know when we have "reached success?"

These ideas resonated with me, especially since as a high school senior I was voted "most likely to succeed." Who knows how collective these decisions really are, but that hasn't stopped it from putting pressure on me from time to time. Sometimes I would wonder to myself, but what if I'm not successful? What if I am a complete failure? I would feel like I had somehow thrown my life away, going from "most likely to succeed" to "utter failure."

I think this is why defining success is so important. If I don't take the time to think about the meaning of success, I will become swept up by the definition of success based on cultural and media ideas. I will subconsciously think that status symbols like money, fame, prestige, level of education, attractiveness, and so on are the marks of success.

In reality, I do not think attaining any number of these things brings true success. I have found that when I do not have a growing relationship with God (and if it isn't growing it's fading--there is no in-between), I feel inexplicably empty, regardless of how many marks of worldly success I have under my belt. And if I feel empty, even with the world saying, "Look how successful you are!", well, I think they're wrong.

I think success is feeling whole, and I think feeling whole comes from healthy relationships with God and with other people. I think success is being willing to struggle and strive to keep going, even when it seems like nothing matters. I think success is having faith in your darkest and most hopeless moments, the type of faith that is merely a belief that someday you will have hope again. And for this kind of success, for a relationship with God, I hope I am willing to give up everything.

I might not be most likely to become a CEO, a politician, a model, a famous scientist, or a movie star, but if I am defining success as being whole through God, as having a willingness to struggle, and keeping faith in the darkest times, then with God I am most likely to succeed.

Sidenote: know I have not posted yet this year; I have many things to share and hope to give these updates ASAP! 

Harvesting Oranges

These are the first orange trees I have ever seen!

Today, I saw my first citrus trees! I joined our harvesting coordinator Heather and a refugee volunteer to harvest 2 orange trees this afternoon. It was a last minute harvest; the homeowner called us concerned because the meteorologists are forecasting a freeze this Friday.

I was SO excited to harvest citrus! The orange trees were beautiful..and there were so many oranges!  I learned how to properly pick the oranges off the tree and I also discovered that orange trees (at least this kind) have prickers on them. Unfortunately my hands and forearms are significantly scratched up, and I have two spots in my fingers were little thorns went in, but harvesting the oranges was so fun that I didn't mind.

The woman who owns the trees also has three lemon trees and one grapefruit tree. The lemons aren't ready yet, but the grapefruit was.

A lemon tree, but the lemons aren't ripe yet.

This lemon looks riper than most of the others.

We tried a grapefruit and it was bright red, tart and juicy. I couldn't keep the juice from dripping on the ground and stinging the cuts on my hands. We decided to leave most of the grapefruit on the tree and to come back another day to harvest the rest. Grapefruit trees are hardier than orange trees are, and the longer grapefruit stays on the tree the sweeter it gets.

           The grapefruit tree. 

Grapefruit up close!

The beautiful weather made it a perfect afternoon for harvesting. The Sudanese refugee we worked with has been here about a year, and it turns out that he was a farmer when he lived in Sudan. He said the climate was similar and they had a lot of similar fruits there: grapefruit, oranges, lemons, but also mangoes.

The amount we harvested was incredible. From just two trees, we had seven crates full of oranges, equivalent to about 400 pounds of oranges. 400 pounds, from just two trees. And this is after some of the homeowner's neighbors had picked some of the fruit, too. As I was picking oranges, I started thinking, how can people be going hungry when our natural trees and plants can produce so much food? These experiences make me question, once again, how we distribute our resources. It makes me thankful that I work with an organization trying to prevent food waste. Think about how many people 400 pounds of oranges can feed.

400 pounds of oranges, 50 pounds of grapefruit. 

Looking at food growing naturally helps me refocus my thoughts. Food doesn't come from a factory or from a building or a from shelf, it comes from the earth. God created these plants and trees to provide sustenance for us (among other reasons), and maybe that's why it's so therapeutic and meaningful for me to harvest and to eat gleaned fruit.

It's also exciting because at the store yesterday, I "flirted with" the idea of buying a couple oranges. I resisted, though, because I am trying to stick to buying fruits when they are in season, and I knew that we would be getting citrus throughout the winter. Lo and behold, today we harvested oranges, and I now have some oranges and a grapefruit in my kitchen waiting to be eaten. I think eating them will be far more enjoyable and meaningful since I picked them from a tree instead of from a grocery store aisle.

My next goal...harvest a lemon tree!

Oranges on the tree.

This was the lone orange growing up from the center of the tree. 

Giving Tuesday

Tomorrow, December 3rd, is Giving Tuesday. Between 12:00am and 11:59pm Eastern time , all gifts given to any Advance project through Global Ministries of the United Methodist Church will be matched. (Several restrictions apply; see here for details.

Every ministry, missionary, and project in the UMC has a designated Advance number which donors can use to designate where they would like their donation to go. Each young adult missionary has an Advance number, and the relief effort in the Philippines also has an Advance number. 100% of donations go toward the project they have been designated to. Click here to learn more about the Advance.

If you are interested in supporting me, this Tuesday is an excellent time since the value of your gift will be matched. You can read more about Giving Tuesday here.

To donate: Go to umcmission.org/give. You can either search for my name, find it on the list of missionaries, or put in my advance number: 3021848.

You can see all the donations that have been made on my behalf so far this year by clicking here. 

And remember, Giving Tuesday doesn't apply just to missionaries, it applies to all projects and ministries. There are an incredible amount of wonderful programs happening, and you can read more about projects by region here and projects by topic here.

Thanksgiving in Tucson

Yesterday I experienced the warmest Thanksgiving of my life: 71 and sunny. I have a hard time believing it is practically December because it is so warm here (although I keep hearing people say things like, "Now that it's getting colder...").

The first event of my Thanksgiving was attending an afternoon potluck at an apartment complex. The property manager had called us about a month ago to ask if we could be involved in helping to teach the people about Thanksgiving. About 28/34 families living there are refugee families, and the rest are Spanish-speaking. The refugees are primarily from Bhutan (but ethnically Nepalese), and there are also families from Somalia and Afghanistan.

We partnered with St. Francis in the Foothills UMC to make the event happen. They brought tables, chairs, and a traditional Thanksgiving dish to pass. The property manager supplied the plates, silverware, napkins, and drinks. He also supplied the families with ingredients for them to make their own traditional food to bring. The longer we were outside, the more people kept coming and bringing food, so that it was difficult to find enough room on the tables for everything! People had been encouraged to bring vegan dishes if possible since many residents are vegan. (With dishes like turkey this is obviously impossible though.)

The food was all delicious and I was thrilled to have so many different types of food to try! I was so full from my first plate that I couldn't even eat dessert. I spent time meeting people from St. Francis as well as refugees. Some could speak English and some couldn't, and often it seemed the children old enough to be in school could speak some English while their younger siblings and parents or grandparents could not. At one point I sat with a mother and daughter from Afghanistan and a man from Bhutan as they talked. The man from Bhutan switched between a language they all understood (but which I clearly didn't) and English. It is my hope to learn some basic phrases in many of these languages so that I can at least exchange a few words with the refugees who don't speak English.

After the event ended, I went with Fran and her son to their friends' home for Thanksgiving dinner. The house was full of family and friends and delicious food. Before the meal started, everyone had a turn to share their name and something they were grateful for, which was nice. The conversations were many, lively, and interesting, ranging in topics from Cuba to Obamacare to caregivers to memories from the day JFK was assassinated. We also had eight children running around as well as a dog and a cat. Since several of the families are Jewish, we also celebrated the second night of Hanukkah. The story of Hanukkah was told and the candles on the Menorahs were still burning when I left.

Although I missed my family and my own traditions, and the dear friends with whom I celebrated Thanksgiving in the past few years, I still had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

And, to top it all off, Iskashitaa's new joint culinary venture was featured in the paper yesterday! I was able to attend the cooking retreat and it was a wonderful experience. See the article here.

Apples and Onions

When we talk about highs and lows, our director likes to call them "apples and onions." (Because those are food resources. She also told me that I can use a carrot to hit people to get them to start following food product inventory protocol. Carrots are also a food resource.)

Apples are good things; onions are negative (which isn't quite accurate because I do like onions.) Anyway, today I wanted to share lots of different little things, so it seemed better to put them into this list. I'll start with the onions so I can end on a good note. 

Onions: 

-It's hard to make friends. I feel lonely often. Even though I am making some friends, I don't always see them often. I also want to be able to do other things. It's hard to go places because it is getting dark so early and I don't like traveling alone in the dark. 

-Though I enjoy Arizona, I miss Michigan a lot. I miss my family, my friends, my work, my Bible study, learning Chinese, the MSU campus, my dorm room, the trees, the water, the weather...I'm not sure if this will diminish as time goes on because I feel like I am still in a culture shock stage. 

-Sometimes I feel stressed out by my work. I like it but it can be chaotic and confusing at times. 

Apples: 

-My Dad and Lori visited me this weekend. We had such a wonderful time! It was so good to see them. We were able to visit some beautiful places in Tucson that I have not been able to see yet, like Gates Pass for the sunset and the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, which was amazing. 

-When Dad, Lori, and I went to the food workshop on Saturday, one of the refugees who met my dad told him that he would be a father to me when my dad was in Michigan. I almost cried. 

-Tonight we had a wonderful Food for Thought dinner. We have these dinners every other month at a restaurant either owned by refugees or which hires refugees. The idea is to support these businesses, to have cross-cultural conversations, and to form new friendships. This month we ate at a Vietnamese restaurant called Pho 88, which is owned by several people who were Vietnamese refugees. I was nervous about everything leading up to the event, but it ended up turning out very well. We had wonderful conversations, lots of laughter, and representatives from 5 different countries.

To end, these are some of the wonderful pictures my dad took this weekend: 

Lori and I watching the sunset at Gates Pass. 

Sunset at Gates Pass, looking east 

My dad and me after the food workshop.