Desert Bread

Update

This past weekend was the start of Lent and we marked it with the YAV Lenten Spirituality Retreat out in Cascabel with the Hermitage Association.  It is run by Daniel, David, and Pearl who live out in the rural community of Cascabel.  The Hermitage Association rents land from the Saguaro Juniper Corporation, a group of associates who hold deeded and leased land in Hot Springs Canyon in southern Arizona.  Their members are environmentally minded, as their covenant to "cherish [the] earth, waters, plants and animals in a way that promotes the health, stability, and diversity of the whole community," demonstrates.  The Hermitage Association rents out a large parcel of land for solitary meditations and desert sojourns.

Desert Bread

Before we started our desert sojourns, we stayed at the base camp, which included a tent ramada, fire pit, composting toilet, outdoor shower, windmill, and a beautiful stream.  Our host was a humble and interesting man named Daniel who has been living out in Cascabel for over 15 years.  He is a self described hermit who enjoys solitude and being in the elements of nature.  He always wears these worn black converses and a sun-stained felt cowboy hat.  After one night in base camp (in which we celebrated Catie's birthday with some Cascabel neighbors) we went our separate ways to being our sojourns.

I stayed in the strawbale hermitage, which was about a mile and a half drive away from camp.  Daniel and I drove up and down the dirt "roads" in his tiny old Toyota, all the while talking about difficulties and joys of my year, BorderLinks, and my expectations for the sojourn.  And to tell the truth, I wasn't sure what to expect.  I had never been so far away from another person.  I had never spent a night in the desert by myself.  I had never had to make do with so little rations that I packed myself.  I had never been given this much time to sit with myself and my thoughts.

Daniel pulled up in front of the strawbale, with a large saguaro cactus standing guard, and checked to make sure that there was enough water, that the bed had sheets on it, that I knew where the toilet was and that I understood the sign changes (that I did every night so that they could know that I was okay).  He checked in with me one last time (which I will talk about a bit later) and then left.  And, after about five minutes when his Toyota crested over the hill, I was alone. 

I surprisingly found myself breathing easy and excited for the time.  I laid a blanket out and the ground and just sat, taking in the sun's warmth and the wind on my body.  I listened to the breeze blow through the ocotillos.  I counted the birds (and the airplanes).  I napped.  I hiked.  I wrote.  I didn't try too hard.  And at the end of two days, it was as if no time had passed at all.  Before we left, we were asked to write a reflection or summary on our sojourn experience, and this is what I had to say:

Before he left, Daniel handed me a piece of desert bread [made purely from desert plants] and said something along the lines of "the desert is all around you, and now it is in you."  That has been a bit of guiding light for me during my time here.  It echoes of embodiment and of communion.

And I have felt in communion with nature and with myself out here.  I went on walks in the washes, finding footprints of bobcats, horses, javelinas, and other animals on journeys of their own.  I've found spider webs glistening on the ground, waiting for a fly to be caught.  I've startled a flock of quail, only to wait around and see and hear them return to each other.  I've even had a little fly friend with me who always seemed to want attention.

But more than the animals, it has been the elements--the sun and wind-- that I have connected with.  I decided even before coming out here that I wanted to be unclothed as much as possible, so that's what I did.  I spent hours at a time sitting and standing naked under the sun, my whole body able to feel the warmth of the sun's rays and the cool hug of the wind.  I have always had this image of peacefulness (and of the Holy Spirit) as wind-- that flows through everything.  At one point, I was standing there in prayer and the wind blew in this wave all around me, lifting my hair up and enveloping me.

I slept outside both nights here, under the stars.  I had a wonderful view of Orion as I went to sleep and when I would wake up (as I did numerous times both nights, to shift and then return to sleep) other starts appeared, taking his place.  I love being under the stars--it reminds me of how tiny I am in this infinite unknown.  I saw two shooting stars each night and let my soul do the wishing.  I don't know what it wished for, but I trust it.

I found some creative space as well, which I haven't had in awhile.  I made two new collages, each inspired in its own way by my time out here.  I am thinking of turning them into cards! I also took time and sat in front of the saguaro and sketched it out and colored.  The saguaro has seemed like a guardian for me during my time here I wanted to remember that image.  I've written a lot, something that I've been missing out on recently.  Since high school, I've kept a journal, but there have always been dry seasons with it, and during those times, I feel least connected to myself.  Having the space and time to write has helped me to reconnect.

I'm not leaving with any questions answered or with any big amazing ideas, but I am leaving more at peace with myself.  Out here, I was reminded of an important piece of advice from a mentor: Be Open.  As long as I stay open and aware and continue my journey, I know that I will be okay.

Thank you for this opportunity.  I hope to return here again to this beautiful place.

Ciudad Juarez

Update

It's been a busy past couple of weeks down in Tucson.  It took me awhile to regroup from my delegation, through a lot of rest, catching up on tv shows, and downtime.  We celebrated Emily's birthday with a picnic in the nearby park (where I got this awesome chicken riding a bike tattoo!), I attended the annual meeting for Catie's CHRPA site, went to a presentation about women in Ciudad Juarez, was horribly sick on Valentine's Day weekend, missed a delegation, and just returned from a desert sojourn in Cascabel where we celebrated Catie's birthday.

Ciudad Juarez

The presentation on Ciudad Juarez was organized by a local organization called Tierra y Libertad, who brought in speakers from the Mexico Solidarity Network which is based in Chicago.

It started with talk about an Arizona bill called HB 2008 that was passed into law this past November by Arizona governor Jan Brewer.  The Bill requires DES to verify the legal status of all people who go to collect benefits (specifically food stamps), even if their children are U.S. citizens.  In a state like Arizona, this is big news because there are many U.S. citizen children whose fathers or mothers have been deported and going for food stamps is a last resort.  And while the law doesn't eliminate the eligibility for services, it could cause a caseworker to report on a parent if they find out about their undocumented status, even in a casual conversation.  This penalizes the children in so many ways.

The speakers from the Mexico Solidarity Network talked about the femicides that have occurred in Juarez and some of the causes and implications of the violence.  There was a lot of talk about NAFTA and free trade.  One of the most important points that the speaker brought up was that "people are always ready for economic capital, but not human capital."  The implementation of NAFTA caused a huge influx of migration in that huge factories called maquiladoras increased in number in the border areas and demanded more and more workers.  But, while the companies were ready for the work, they were not ready for the people and all of the social services and support that would be needed.

The talk ended with the reminder that we can't just leave the course of the world up to just our governments, but that we have to organize from the community, and we have to "globalize solidarity". 

It was an interesting talk, although a bit generalized (and I feel like my translations would have been a bit better!).  It reminded me of my time in El Paso and Juarez at Annunciation House a few years ago, where we learned about the femicides and visited the graves of women who had been killed.

Tomorrow, I head to a lecture at the University of Arizona called "In the Eye of the Storm: Ciudad Juarez, Violence and a Failed Drug Policy," which will hopefully go into more depth on some current issues.

Staying Grounded in Community

Update

As seems to happen, it's been about a month since I last wrote.  And a lot has happened during that time!  I led a 13-day delegation in Agua Prieta and Tucson (which I will be writing about next), celebrated my birthday in some fabulous ways, took some comp time to reboot, and caught up with the goings-on in Tucson.  For my birthday, I had a wonderful day off with Mike filled with breakfast in bed, lots of sleep, movie watching, and relaxation.  Then I went to another Read Between the Bars meeting and had wonderful pizza with some awesome people.  And to end the day, my fellow BLXers threw me a party complete with fudge as my cake, enchiladas, sangria, games, and laughing.  I must say, it was one of my best birthdays yet.

And through it all, I've been incredibly people-sick.  (That's a word, right?  Like homesick for people.  Well, it is now.)  Every other day or so, Mike or I will comment on the fact that we miss our friends and their energy, the comfort of familiarity, and their love.  But I have begun to realize that I can still have all of those wonderful things, it is just a matter of staying in touch and of reaching out.  For example, while my last delegation was wonderful, I was incredibly stressed out and frustrated at points.  Out of nowhere, I received phone calls, text messages, emails, Facebook messages, and letters from friends and family in Pittsburgh and Beloit.  It was as if I was sending out an S.O.S. to people and they were responding!  (So, in the future, my powers of telepathy probably won't always work, but you get the idea.)

And then, with the passing of my birthday, where I was able to catch up with people and receive many birthday wishes (many through the power of Facebook), and through an email asking for a mid-term review of my YAV year, I remembered the most important thing that I need: to stay grounded in community.

Staying Grounded in Community

"Who is your community (the people with whom you share your life as a YAV)?"  This is the first question on the mid-year evaluation for the Young Adult Volunteer program.  When I first read the question, I paused for a second.  I'd been feeling people-sick, like I said, and this didn't put me in the greatest mood to answer the question.  But, somehow getting past that, I realized that I have a large community that I learn from everyday and that is involved in amazing things!


In my life as a YAV, my primary community is the other YAVs, Emily and Catie, who are doing amazing work at their sites.  Emily is the School Garden Coordinator for the Community Food Bank's Food Security Center, and she absolutely loves it! She gets to work outside in the garden most days, using her hands to work the soil, and seeing the results of her work in the beautiful veggies and plants that grow.  She also gets to work with children and use her organizational skills to get things done.

Catie is a volunteer at Community Home Repair Projects of Arizona (or CHRPA for short).  She does various kinds of home repair for low-income families in and around Tucson.  As she says, "The SOOPers are here and it is a true joy to have them around. SOOP stands for Service Oppertunies for Older Persons. Work has been full of furnace work and toilet replacements, which I'm proud to say is what I'm doing alot of these days."  She continually comes home with paint, plaster, and who knows what, covering her clothes.  I have learned a lot from Catie and Emily about gardening and home repair and have found wonderful conversation partners in the two of them.

But that is not all of my community.  I have Mike, who is currently an AmeriCorps with Every Voice in Action Foundation, serving as a media facilitator with youth.  He has already helped out with a couple of youth videos and is just getting started on a series of poetry slam events in Tucson.  He's been able to connect with some great people in Tucson.

And then I have my wonderful BorderLinks community, who I learn from everyday and share the joys and sorrows of this job.  Everyone is coming from such different places with different interests and intentions, but we form a community of support and solidarity.

And I have the wonderful Read Between the Bars group that I was lucky enough to stumble upon one of my first weeks here.  Not only have I been able to connect the work with this group to my time at Beloit, but it has allowed me to connect to an outside community working for justice.  But my community extends even further.

And, this is the part that connects back to those Facebook birthday wishes: I realize now that even though people may be thousands of miles away, they are still a part of my community.  Hearing about Hannah's work at the hospital, conducting bi-lingual interviews and saving up money to go travel the world, or about Nate's adventure first as a Chinese delivery boy and now as a visitor to a monastery lifts my spirits.  Getting updates about Anna's end of service up in Moab, her future plans to work in Venezuela or Mexico, and rejoining the Beloit Community Choir, or about Laura's amazing work on her feminist blog and her job at the bookstore keeps me open and interested.  Hearing about the continued work of the Peace and Justice Club at Beloit, about the mission work at Waverly, about the individual lives and stories of everyone that I have ever come into contact with, connects me back, it grounds me.

In reality, I've written all of this to say that I find myself in the company of some amazing people.  Getting updates from everyone, hearing about people lives and the awesome things that they are doing (however small they may seem) reminds me how lucky I am to have the life that I have.  Thank you to everyone for sharing it with me!

(And by the way, I love snail mail!)