Je ne parle pas francais...n'est pas?

This was truely a weekend of forwards and backwards and general insanity. I spent all day Saturday (and I do mean all day) up in Camus for AFS arrival orientation hanging out with a crazy group of kids, and feeling incredibly old. As horribly mismanaged and slightly incompetent as this organization can be, among them I am with my kind. Around exchangers I have that instant identification and commonality that I get so rarely anywhere else. It doesn't matter who, or where from, or where to, but if you've gone through a year pretty much dropped in the middle of nowhere at your own volition, I will probably find some reason to like you.

The whole day started out in typical Peggy fashion: I set my alarm for 4:55 am in order to be in outer SE Portland by 7. I wake up at oh, 6:15. Silly cell phone alarm clock, you have foiled me once again. Only then do I realize, oh shit, I'm at the new place, not the apartment, so all the downtown busses are a good 15-20 minute walk back down Palatine Hill. Oops. I throw on some clothes, run down to the Fred Meyer stop, miss the 12 by maybe 2 minutes. I spend the next 38 minutes while waiting for the bus plotting ways to make it look like I've showered in the last, oh, 35 hours. The new short-ass hair actually pulls this off suprisingly well. By the time I make it out to SE, we all pile into their van, and arrive at the church in Camus, I've now made everyone (group leaders, volunteers, students) a good 2 hours late. Bravo, yes I know.

I am volunteering as an orientation group leader for the year. Basically, I work with this sweet old librarian guy named Dan (Don? Quizas?) and a group of 9 AFS-ers at each of the orientations through their year here. We've got Turkish, French, German, Norwegian, Phillipino (half Indian), Thai, and Japanese. I think eventually they'll be an Italian girl too, but AFS Italia apparently summarily postponed all outgoing students because of the London crap for five days. Poor things. The Turkish boy was pretty silent, he told me he comes from Istambul, and his favorite things to do are chat and internet. Rural Washington will either do him a load of good, or kill him. The German boy and Norwegian girl, well, I predict they'll be down each others pants by the Pendleton Roundup outing mid September. Sweet kids, but yea, sparks a plenty. It made me laugh remembering our hookups (Alejandra and Cowri sharing a sleeping bag. Good times had by all). The Thai and Japanese girls were both really quiet, but given time and patience I'm sure they'll catch on. You can tell so quickly who is simply frightened and engaged, versus shut off completely. I keep finding myself wondering what people though about me through those first hellish moments...could I project that open mind yet? The Phillipino kid, he totally cracked me up. Kids more fluent than I am. He told me his home language is English, as he grew up in Bahrain, and its the only common language between his parents. He introduced himself by asking whether I liked American Idol. It breaks my heart though that hes still without a permanent placement, like, he'd be the perfect student. No communication problems, already pretty well aculturated, and so very eager and enthusiastic.

And alas, my pet French girl. Probably the least English competent of all, given no sleep and perpetual deer-in-headlights condition. So sweet, and totally freaked out by everything. I'd introduced myself to her early in the morning, before we were even in group sessions for some reason, so at least I think she felt Ok with me. When it become very clear that her spoken English comprehension under the circumstances was less than helpful, even at half speed with three word sentences, the Phillipino and I started trying to throw her a few words here and there. That was probably my first mistake, you know, we're supposed to be all about the ra ra ra trial by fire philosophy. Then, for the rest of the day, I'd catch her eye during the discussions, and she'd throw me a pleading look. Anytime we'd want everyone to give us a response of some sort, I'd do my best to explain the questions, either in French (ish), written out, or charade, all the while thinking, "damn it girl, why are you not spanish/russian/czech?!?" My French is less than abysmal, but I'd be lying to say I didn't get a kick out of trying. And if nothing else, it put her a little bit more at ease. However, I definitly never imagined I'd spend my debut at Portland AFS speaking French all day. The melange of Czech/Spanish/Russian, sure. But French, nope, not so much.

Someday todos de mes langues van a hacerse de mejor. Odnazhdi.

I'm glad I got to be a part of their first day in country. It brought back so many crazy memories. But overall, I'm glad I can a person for them here that I would have wanted back in the day in Czech. It'll be really interesting to watch the whole crew develop over the school year, in ways I'm sure I can't even imagine. I can say without hesitation that that year made me the person I am today, and I can't help but be excited for all of them, as they embark for the very same crucibles.

The house is shaping up nicely. Its so much bigger than I guess I've grown accustomed to, that I keep putting things down, and totally losing them. We had the place to ourselves this weekend, and oh the luxuries of an empty house to stretch out in. The room is coming along, we've got some serious procuring to do, but I can see it taking shape. Five days on a real bed and I think I've been officially converted. That and its my father's tirade of the moment, the whole "why don't you buy yourself a mattress? you never take good enough care of yourself. you're so cheap you don't respect yourself enough..." and more bullshit. Cracks me up, actually. But the bed, soooo nice. I'm pysched for this perpetual flux to be over, for people to stop turning over, for the new girls to arrive, and for this year to finally get started.

I cannot abide limbo, surprise, surprise.

Home Friday, for a marathon of people and places and pretend. But most of all, finally finally escaping to the woods!!

Free at least

I am moved out of my first shitty apartment.

This house may proove me social yet. Either that or be quite awkward.

Weird how this feels more like "school" than school ever did.

Potence

I am twenty years old. I do not demand that you take me seriously. I demand that you look at me when you are speaking.

The Continuing Adventures of Peggy the Transient

Well, OK. Breath. Yes. Moving on.

I am pretty well not going to Chile next year, for very many reasons, probably most tangible being I can't get my last major SOAN requirement otherwise. Of course theres more to that, so much more to that, but I don't have the energy to rehash again. I'm afraid I might change my mind again, and the waffling itself is killing me. I've made my decision, and to have half a chance in hell at succeeding at this, at these next two years, I need to focus my will and intentions and passions on right here, right now. And right here right now has a lot that really is exciting me, honestly it does. But the pang and pull of flight is semi-constant.

Turning to the next chapter, there is most definitly a strange girl living in my room at the new house. It figures, right? Apparently, some friends of one of our future roommates are pretty much squatting in the house until their new place is finished. Apparently, they thought we weren't moving in until September. THEN WHY THE FUCK WOULD I HAVE PAYED RENT FOR AUGUST?!

On the plus side, Ri and I are mostly moved out of the apartment (ok her more than me), and shes pretty much claimed the back half of the room already. I figure we'll force 'em out by will and subliminal messaging, if nothing else. I'm tired of all this constant flux, prepetually stress (life?)and really just want to get settled. We still have all the furniture, and most of the kitchen stuff to get rid of. I'm trying very hard to re-focus, because this too is all temporary. I'm really good with touchable solid deadlines and stress, because then I know that I can look 2,3,4 days down the line, and know that it will be done. And by next Friday, this will be done too, it has to be. We have to be out of the apartment by the 11th, and honestly, yea, sucks to be the squatters, but not really my responsibility. Nope Nope.

What have I got myself into?

I am super pysched for fall, however, which in itself is frightening. What a strange new phenomenon, and honestly, quite jarring. My textbooks have been arriving in the past few days, and a: god DAMN theres a lot of them, b: they all, without exception, look really quire interesting. Heres hoping a new perspective and a new mindset is enough to hold on to that optimism for a little while longer. School, just always wears on me so quickly. I hate what it does to me...I remember writting in my journals about it senior year of high school, when I so desperately wanted the luxury of a year off. I hate how wound up school makes me, how stressed. Its like I totally loose the capability of letting anything roll off, because everything is so damned important and pivotal all the time. I think it just comes back to this very misguided notion that I am in control of my life and my surroundings and my action here, so much so that when something is thrown at me that proves otherwise, yea, total melt down. Travelling and living abroad has taught me to adjust, to just go with it. When you have absolutely no knowledge of the whys and wherefroms, you learn really quickly just to make do in the moment. Which I do, under normal circumstances, do incredibly well. Now if only I could manage to do that within the constraints of this continent we'd be all good.

I need my spine back.

In other grand adventures, I have officially made my grand re-debut as AFS super volunteer of choice. We had training for orientation group leaders yesterday, and the whole thing just put me in this great mood for once. I'd almost forgotten how much fun exchangers are, just flat out hilarious trippy people. I'm with my kind there, how amazing it always is. AFS experiences though, are forever riddled with this happy melange of nostalgia, regret, and laughter. Everything anyone mentions always brings to mind about 23 different memories of my various wanderings, the good, the bad. I don't want that time back, no. Instead I want the confidence that more such insane trials and crazy times will come. So next Saturday, ass early in the morning, I'm trekking out to Camus (thats "kaemoos" in Oregonian) to hang out with a bunch of no doubt crazy cool new AFSers, to hopefully shed some light on their hellish first days in country, and maybe perhaps remember why I'm here.

In other, other news, I finally succombed. Trekking out to Gresham on thursday to meet my Russians and do some more interpretting for their case worker, Amy, I fell deeply asleep on the MAX. This has been one of my more petulant preoccupations in my 2+ years in this city, falling asleep on transit downtown, and waking up half way to Ashland. Now I can happily cross that off my list of things to do while still in college. The great thing, so I wake up at the end of the Blue line train, Gresham center, laugh a while, scratch my head in embarassment, cross the tracks, and get on the train going the other direction. End of story? Yea, not so much. No sooner had I sat down going safely back in the direction of the known world, do I fall asleep again. I was aiming for E 188th Ave, no more than 4-5 stops back the way I'd come. Instead, I wake up around E 122nd. Ha. Ha. Ha. I wait 20 minutes for the train going back the right direction, jump off, run run run up to their apartment, and realize the case worker has beat me there by a good 20 minutes. Yes, I plead poverty and studenthood (but my research paper is done done done!!!!) but it was pretty damn funny trying to explain that to my Russians...

Enough, time to hike back up to the empty apartment...


"There is no need to go to India or anywhere else to find peace. You will find that deep place of silence right in your room, your garden, or even your bathtub."
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

and my friend Emerson, as prescient as ever
“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Monotone.

"Life is always opening new and unexpected things to us. There is no monotony in living to him who walks even the quietest and tamest path with open and perceiving eyes. The monotony of life, if life is monotonous to you, is in you, not in the world."
- Phillip Brooks

12:06 am. Do you know where your procrastination is?

create your own visited states map
or check out these Google Hacks.


And this? Well, just pathetic.



create your own visited countries map
or vertaling Duits Nederlands

Post Heart-to-Heart

10:37 am. Officially not fired.

Damn, damn, damn. I fail at badasdom.

But on the plus side, may have revived my letter-of-recommendation chances. And hey, I have officially 12 more days of work.

The end is in sight.

Wow, now I feel like a total bitch.

But at least I didn't cry.

7:37 AM: And I'm still not fired

Revelation: Maybe thats just it. I've forgotten the greatest lesson of all abroad--the perpetual uncertainty of everyday. I need to get back to a place where everyday itself is a lesson, a gift, a discovery. To give in to total early morning cheeseball-ness, today, in all its forms and permutations, can be every bit as surprising and challenging and provocative as every day abroad. I can seek out new experiences and new parts of the city and new adventures of living on my own almost as easily here as I can there. I can block out all the distractions of real life, ok, not so easy here as there, but I can work on it. I can seek the unfamiliar and the breathtaking. I can conquer the stupid basic demands that life places on me, even though here they take on more complicated forms.

Is this a decision? Maybe.

Cuidate Bien...Te Mando Amorrrr

The jig is up.










No really. I mean it this time.