Water

I'm a novice camper, so was quite grateful to be invited on a camping trip with four other campers who have all the gear and know the ropes of camping. I know it's not that difficult, but I'm not the kind who instinctively can put a tent together, who enjoys working with fire, or who has a backpack filled with water and a tube that sends that water to my mouth when I drink from it. I was awed by all of the gear - the dehydrated food, the stove that folds up into a 10" circle, the headlamps - all of this equipment certainly made experience of camping a little easier and more convenient.

It was on a trip to purify water from the river that I suddenly remembered that for many people around the world, the "hardships" of camping are an everyday experience. I never think about water - where it comes from, what life would be like without it, if it's clean or not. I just turn on the faucet, put a glass underneath the stream, and enjoy. I don't have to worry about purifying it, I don't have to worry about water-born diseases, I don't have to worry about thirst, I don't have to worry about being vulnerable while walking miles to the nearest clean water source, I don't have to worry about anything relating to water.

But when we were camping, I did. Though the water looked beautifully clear and refreshing, I knew it wasn't safe for me to drink it. So I had to laboriously push water through a small purifying tube before I could drink it. My ever-weakening wrists did not appreciate the length of time I spent pumping the purifier. But there was no other choice. Pump, or go thirsty. And going thirsty is not a desirable option when you're hiking in July.

I came home Sunday afternoon, back to a world of water at my fingertips, no pumping required. But I hope to hold this small lesson and carry it with me as I remember the struggles that people around the world face daily. The Spilling Hope campaign my church hosts to raise money for wells in Uganda will certainly take on a new meaning for me after my brief water ephiphany.

Foodie Summer Day

8am: Chocolate croissant and coffee on a small table on the sidewalk outside of the Cowen Grocery cafe. Talk of future dreams, weekly updates, and, of course, chocolate, with a dear friend.

6pm: Phinney Farmer's Market. One flat of berries - half strawberry/half raspberry. Two quesadilla slices filled with beets and seasonal greens.

9pm: Molly Moon's ice cream. Samples? Theo Chocolate and Carrot Cake. Choice? Scout Mint.

Yum.

(Four)th of July

My four-year-old niece went on a photo shoot on the Fourth of July. I present to you her first art show.

Safari on a rug.

Color Study - Red.

Artist Quote: "I'm going to take a picture of dad's beer."

Shout out to grandma.

The Dollhouse.

Fleeing Subject.

Emotion.

Pinochle, Plastic, and Fleece.

We had a great Fourth of July - lots of food and family time (and rain made it a little extra-special for yours truly!). And, of course, our four-year-old keeping us on our toes :)

Strawberry Fields Forever

It's no secret that summer is my least favorite season. Glaring brightness in the sky. Sticky sunscreen film on my skin. Heat. Allergies. Guilty feelings when inside on a sunny day.

But there is one redeeming quality of summer.

Berry-picking.

Every year, my love for berry-picking grows. It doesn't matter what kind of berry, just as long as I'm in a field, with a bucket, alongside friends, picking the sweetness bounty of the earth (one in my mouth, five in the bucket).

I went to Bellingham with some friends, and we decided to pick our first berries of the season on Saturday afternoon. A perfect way to spend a pre-Fourth of July Saturday.

Since Whatcom county is chock-full of u-pick farms just outside of the city, it seemed like it would be simple to find a farm to visit. But after many phone calls, internet searches, and discussion, we realized that finding a farm to visit was not going to be such a simple task.

Why?

Because we were committed to picking at a farm that cares for the environment. And, shockingly enough, they are hard to come by in a county that appears to be environmentally-friendly.

I admit that I do not always buy organic fruits and vegetables. But this weekend I was determined to respect not only the earth, but farmers who were committed to caring for their land by not using pesticides or fertilizers to grow their berries.

Calling around to a few farms, we found some pretty low prices ("$1.25/pound - what a deal!"), but quickly realized that any price less that $3/pound certainly meant that the farm used conventional methods such as sprays, pesticides, fertilizers, etc. I don't know too much about farming methods - I just know that spraying chemicals on the plants or the soil is not so good for anyone or anything involved in the whole process.

The only farm that was open was about 15 minutes away, and didn't sound too promising (rain = bad weather = small crop = not many berries left when we wanted to pick), but we decided to check it out. I'd been to this farm before, and knew it was quite small. But we figured that the farmers could possibly direct us to another organic farm if they didn't have any berries left.

We arrived, picked up some baskets, and walked with the farmer out to the field. Wearing a bucket hat and round glasses, he told us about his strawberries. He said he was surprised that people were coming out of the fields with full baskets of berries. Apparently they were hiding quite well, available to those who were willing to search for them. He found a few good berries for us, and sent us on our way. About twenty other berry-pickers were enjoying the early afternoon on the farm. Some twin two-year-olds kept running back and forth between the strawberry patches where their mom and grandma were picking. I enjoyed munching on the pieces of heavenly goodness that were lying unsuspectingly underneath lush green leaves (which were unfortunately causing quite a rash on my arms!).

It was a perfect outing. For us, the environment, the farmer. Although I am on a budget, I was more than willing to pay more for these organic berries. Because I paid the cost to grow berries as they are meant to be grown. Whole. Natural. Delicious.

The end of the story? The berries found their way to Fourth of July dessert. Scones, whipping cream, and sliced strawberries. Just a little bit of heaven.

Why is it that...

...I always am blogging in my head, but don't have the discipline to pull posts together?

I am becoming increasingly scattered and frantic as I add more and more to my life (and my thoughts seem to multiple at an exponential rate). I mean, who goes to the bathroom and comes out with a new career idea? This girl. Often. (Yesterday at six pm I decided that I'm going to become a career counselor at a community college, naturally).

Why can't I quiet down and focus my thoughts? Why does my mind go bananas on a regular day? Poor time management? Too much on my plate?

I don't have the answers to the above questions. I think it's a combination of too many people to meet, too many hobbies to pursue, too many books to read, too many things to learn + too many movies to watch, too many blogs to read, too many things to consume + things I have to do (work, sleep, eat, breath, exercise) + multi-multi-multi-tasking = my challenge at achieveing a balanced, non-frantic life.

My pastor is always talking about developing a rule of life - habits that help us lead the kind of life God wants us to lead: balanced, giving, prayerful, hopeful, etc. Perhaps I should focused on developing such habits. There are definitely changes I could make to my life, but it's difficult to decide what to cut down on when most of them are so life-giving. It's a cruel irony when these life-giving activities begin to have the opposite effect when I try to do too many of them :)

Oh, well, I leave this post with no new revelations (probably because I'm simultaneously facebook-chatting with a friend and listening to my Band of Horses pandora station, thinking about the laundry in I have in the dryer and the grocery list I still haven't written for tomorrow), but with a bit of too-be-continued reflection.

The discipline of blogging/journaling/reflecting is one I want to improve on, so, score me for a blog post tonight.

One day at a time...

Bookday

My birthday was wonderful for very many reasons: it was golden; tea, spaghetti, cheesecake, and donuts were consumed; Disney songs were sung; the lake was walked around; and rain fell.

But it was also wonderful because it involved an hour and a half at my favorite place: 2 stories of books - new, old, classic, foreign, you name it, you find it. Since discovering the Half Price books on Capitol Hill in April, I'd planned to pay a visit there on my birthday. So after spending the morning and afternoon enjoying a pot of tea with my roommate and a walk around the lake with a friend, I headed to Capitol Hill (with a backseat full of library books, mind you) to spend a delightful afternoon browsing through new potential friends. Here's a summary of my findings:

The Crisis of Islam, Bernard Lewis:

After having a challenging conversation with some friends about Islam this past week, I've realized that I need to stop talking about how I need to learn more about Islam, and at least take a step towards self-education. This book was a dollar and doesn't appear too intimidating which means I may just pick it up within the next few weeks.

The Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis:

This book has been on my to-read list for quite some time, though I actually don't know specifically what it's about. As someone who faces pain (but who doesn't?), I am eager to be encouraged by the wise words of Mr. Lewis on this challenging subject.

The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton

My literary mentor + His journal about his trip through Asia = Pretty much the most excited I've been to read a book in a long time. The worlds of faith, culture, Asia, religion, adventure, insight, and reflection collide!

The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, Alexander McCall Smith

For only a dollar, I should've picked up all eight copies! I'm forever lending this book out, so figure I needed a new copy because EVERYONE needs to read this series. Yelena was the lucky birthday guest to take this copy home tonight!

Burmese Language Book

On the Best Buy clearance shelf was a stack of Burmese language books. After a double-take, I knew I had to have a copy. It was just calling my name.

I also bought a journal, which brought the grand total to $13.95 (after a 20% Memorial Day discount).

Birthday bookday = Success.

I think this needs to happen next year. And maybe tomorrow as well.

Mr. Yunus

Thanks to my friend Liz and the power of Facebook, I discovered that Muhammad Yunus was speaking in Seattle.

As an aspiring social entrepreneur, I knew I couldn't miss this opportunity. I'd read Yunus' first book, Banker to the Poor, a few years earlier, and am in the beginning stages of learning about microcredit, so how could I pass up the chance to hear from Mr. Microcredit himself?

Emily, a classmate who'd lived in Bangladesh for a few years, joined me as we made our way downtown to city hall for the lecture. I told a few people about my evening plans, but none of them knew who Mr. Yunus was. Seriously? He won the Nobel Peace Prize, people - he's kind of a big deal.

We waited in anxious anticipation as we watched a preview for a documentary film coming out in the fall - To Catch a Dollar - that explores Mr. Yunus' work in microcredit. Hopefully more people will become aware of the power of microcredit through this film - I can't wait to see it!

As Mr. Yunus walked out on stage, the audience stood up in applause. A standing ovation before the lecture - I wasn't sure I'd ever experienced this before. The audience soon settled down and waited to hear what Mr. Yunus had to say.

Let me tell you, his words came at a perfect time for me. As I'm in the process of trying to focus my research and thesis, Mr. Yunus reminded me of my interest and passion in income-generating projects as a means to obtain self-sufficiency. He spoke of the power of social business, and how ordinary, illiterate people are using microcredit to develop viable income-generating opportunities for themselves and their communities. How much more then, he encouraged us, can educated, literate people unleash the power of microcredit to affect positive social change?

I realized during his lecture that though I'm quite interested in many aspects of human trafficking - border patrol, citizenship issues, cultural values, religious beliefs, etc., etc., etc. - I need to focus on income-generating opportunities because this is the foundation of my interest. Thank you, Mr. Yunus, for helping me focus!

Well, in accordance with my budget, I wasn't going to purchase any of his books that evening (though I desperately wanted to!). But by the end of the lecture, I slowly slide my credit card from it's usual perch at the top of my wallet as I stood in line to buy Creating a World Without Poverty (Emily had bought the book before the lecture so I'd had ample opportunity to gaze longingly at it as it rested between us). I purchased the book and we scooted over to the meet and greet line. Yes, friends, I was going to meet Mr. Yunus himself.

Now, I must say, I'm a bit starstruck. The closer we got to the front of the line, the faster my heart started beating. He's just another person, Ellie, I kept telling myself. And yet ordinary people don't win the Nobel Peace Prize, ordinary people don't create revolutionary economic systems, other people haven't changed the world for millions of people. Mr. Yunus is no ordinary man.

We strategized our approach before placing our books in the signing pile. Emily greeted Mr. Yunus in Bengali, and they shared a bit of conversation before he asked her if I spoke Bengali as well. She shook her head no, and then I realized what they were talking about. I said to him, No, I don't speak Bengali. And he looked at me and said (this time in English), how did you know what we were talking about?! I told him, context. We laughed. I then asked if I could take my picture with him, and he told me no, he would only take a picture with me if I spoke Bengali. We laughed again. I was joking around with Mr. Yunus. Seriously? I got behind the table and told him that I would learn some Bengali before I saw him again. I touched his shoulder. Emily took our picture. Did I just touch Mr. Yunus? We said goodbye and floated away, all the way back to the car.

The drive home was full of :I can't believe that just happened"s and "I am so glad we went tonight"s and "Can we look at the signature again?"s.

An amazing night. An amazing speaker. An amazing concept.