MLK Work Week

If the number of hours of sleep it takes to recover from an experience is any determination of how much impact it has had on you, then count this one in the top ten: I've just woken up after 15 hours of sleep.
Rebuilding Together National trucked all 30+ August class CapacityCorps members down to Lafayette, Louisiana to meet the new 20+ members of the January class members and spend the week 'rebuilding' 5 homes and participating in additional trainings.

It was exhausting: daily manual labor from 8am-4:30, followed by CC activities until nearly 9. Then off to walmart for wine (contraban on premises, so it had to be done stealthily) to finish off the evening in Cabin 7 with conversation until 2.
It was inspiring: seeing work done SO quickly on the homes every day. Surrounded by 60 people who actually love and care about what they are doing in life, who want more and want better, and think about things that are important.

The home that I worked on received: new garage roof, a wheelchair ramp, gutted and completed redone bathroom, new kitchen cabinets, flooring throughout, patched siding, and exterior painting.


Gettin things done for America




Kira, my partner in crime


The cast iron tub was literally floating over this gaping hole in the bathroom floor


The campsite we stayed at


Patching siding is extremely difficult and tiring work




The last-day crew and homeowners

More can be found here: MLK Work Week album

Quarterly Reflection

It is heartening when a tentative idea is met with overflowing enthusiasm. It is even more heartening when the project sounds fun, and meaningful, and has the potential to make real change. I’ve been feeling this way about my personal project… and although taking a few pictures of some old houses isn’t going to make Aurora a thriving, restored community, I’ve already begun singling out the homeowner’s I’ve met that have compelling histories, that would be the most interesting or willing to share, and who can tell the story of this community in exciting ways. There’s so much truth in saying passion is infectious. Since receiving support from Brandi, the photo teacher at the High School I’ll be working directly with, I’ve had 2 offers to come and speak “formally” about the awesomeness of AmeriCorps, and a handful of friends have pledged interest in helping out with the project.

I’ve also been feeling this way since my weekend in Twin Cities. Over beers at a trendy brewery near Erin’s neighborhood, I had the opportunity to connect with 3 outrageously passionate people pushing for change in the neglected neighborhoods of Minneapolis. They have big ideas, really big ones, the kind that are kind of scary, and definitely awe inspiring. But their passion is like electricity and you can’t help but get charged up when you sit down for a few minutes to just talk about the potential for the future. This is how real change happens: you’ve just got to charge up enough people.

These are the best things about AmeriCorps. I like the food stamps, I like the education stipend, and I like the way people pretend to be impressed when you tell them you “serve” with a non profit. But mostly I love the way I can stand behind what I do with my time, the freedom the program gives its members to do something daring, and the credibility the program gives a just-graduated-and-I-really-don’t-know-much kid to go out and do something new and put dreams into reality.

Visualizing the Need

I posted this several weeks ago on the Rebuilding Together Aurora blog, but keep thinking about it and wanted to share it here too.

Rebuilding Together Aurora provides home repair to low income home owners residing in Aurora. Surrounded by some of the wealthiest Chicagoland suburbs, Aurora is an island of poverty, crime, and poor education. There are definitely very fine points to Aurora, and it has a fantastic history, but for many many years was abandoned by all who could escape and has been slowly decaying since. Like Detroit and Buffalo, Aurora had its heyday at the beginning of the 20th century and has incredible architectural relics of that era. Over half of the homes were build before 1940, and something like 20% were build before 1920!

The New York Times just came out with this handy interactive map displaying key data from the 2009 census. And while it's fun to zoom around places like NYC and see the patchwork collage of demographic statistics, it also provides a very real reminder of the importance and need in our own community. Here are just a few:


The median household income for central Aurora is $25,000 or less, and the majority of the Aurora township falls beneath $50,000.


While a concentration of wealth lies at the perimeter of Aurora...


... a shockingly disproportionate number of households earn less than $30,000 a year within Aurora itself.


The median monthly rent in Aurora hovers between $500-$999...


... and yet 60-80% of the households in our key neighborhoods pay 30% or more of their monthly income to cover the cost of their mortgage...


... While home values continue to fall drastically at the city center.

Steel Roots

I've been dying to see the Steel Roots by Steve Tobin exhibit at the Morton Arboretum since I found it was there in September... but I got caught up with work and never seemed to find time to go.

I coerced an IIT friend, Matt, to go with me on Saturday morning despite the bitter chill. So worth it. These things are amazing, and photograph beautifully. They are stunning in person, but somehow more moving (or maybe just -made-) to be beautiful in photos. The winter light was perfect! So here are a few from my picasa album.

Roman Holiday

Unbeknown to me upon my arrival in Beirut, Lebanon has an immensely rich Roman history. Ruins in various states of preservation and decay litter the country and are almost free for tourists to visit.

One weekend, we decided to take a road trip through the Bekaa valley (just on the other side of the first mountains), halfway between Beirut and Syria. We drove into forests and through clouds, creeping our way into the "fertile crescent" of Lebanon - the vineyard and farm-rich valley. There, we stayed in an old fashioned, very unique hostel (we slept on thin mats on the floor like travelers hundreds of years ago would have), went to a wine tasting, and climbed monuments.

I thought our first stop to be overwhelmingly impressive - imagine! climbing around unsupervised on Roman ruins!! Yasmina said just to wait... Balbaak would blow me away.


In Tyr, the old city crumbles and the new city creeps in.





The next set was in Anjaar, a walled city reused by nomads during the war; The peoples had converted Roman shops along the main road into a small village, with a day care and living shelters. They simply infilled the structure- patching concrete or building anew on top. It was impossible at times to tell what ended where- new or old - because there was the same layer of grunge coating it all. I guess it didn't matter, but I could only imaging the magnificence of waking each morning to the sun rising over arches two thousand years old.


Anjaar


The inner palace walls remain



And then Balbaak, like nothing I'd ever seen before. An immense playground of ruins and sculpture, carvings and temples. We caught a Chopin performance by a full orchestra seated at the base of the Temple to Bacchus.

This is Adil.


And this is the vista from the roof of his house.

I made friends with Adil through Yasmina, and ended up at his house in the mountains several times. It was our retreat from the overwhelming saturation of the city, and on one of my last nights in Lebanon, we sat on the porch watching fireworks, eating cheese, figs, and drinking local wine. It was lovely, and his house on the hillside was composed of endlessly beautiful textures.

A Lonely Pilgramage

We feasted on Lebanese bbq dishes - shwarma and kebabs and the like - one afternoon before taking the long road back to Beirut. It was a long, narrow, pot-hole ridden ride to begin with (a one lane highway snaking around a mountain without a guard rail or street light to protect you. Each turn warranted a loud honk before swerving around it, fingers crossed no farm truck would be ambling your way) and our detour added another hour.

But we came to a mountaintop monastery where bees gorged on lavender and produced the most flowery, rich honey I have ever tasted. The chapel was utterly silent. The walls were caked black with hundreds of years of smoke and incense. The farms and treetops cascaded down from the monastery like a green skirt trailing ruffles into the sea.

Floating in a haze

I will never forget my first trip outside Beirut, with Yasmina and friends to a small beach in Chekka. It is unpopular and unfrequented; we nearly had the place to ourselves.
If I remember nothing else, I hope I always remember the feeling of floating in salt water with the sun warming my face and the scent of wild flowers and vanilla hookah catching on a breeze and drifting over the waves. I think that might just be heaven.

And all I can think of now (as it gets cold and I begin to forget the sharper details) is how thankful I am to have been there.




Tamima and Yasmina share secrets

The Life and Death of a Hubbard Squash - and other cooking adventures

One afternoon, long past Halloween, Mr Hubbard the Grey wandered into my kitchen. I thought, "What a delicious dinner idea!" and snuck up behind the unsuspecting squash.




Mr. Hubbard meets his doom



The countdown commences



Mr. Hubbard knows* what will happen next...


Like a wicked witch, I baked him into a cake and ate his insides with cinnamon and sugar.



Little nougats of gold!


---------------------------+---------------------------

For Thanksgiving, I intend to cook the following:
+ bake french bread, extra thin loaves
+ roll goat cheese in cranberies and candied pecans
+ use crescent rolls to make small baked bries with onion and apple filling

Sin City

Big Sky


Amazing People


Silly Evenings


Fantastic Architecture


Sexy Silhouettes


Incredible Texture


Hazy Unreality