Thursday, April 28, 2005

My Siblings

"The Family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together." Emma Bombeck
I've always said that I wanted to have a lot of kids. People always say to me, "Wow, 5 kids," but for me, it's never been anything to be amazed about. Five seems like a natural number and I can't remember or imagine life as an only child. I have been so blessed to have my four crazy siblings. As I think about leaving in such a short amount of time, I am reminded again of how much these people are seared into my heart, and how I can't imagine life without their presence.

Caleb and I have had a love/hate relationship. Out of all my siblings, he's probably the one I've fought with the most, but this has only served to strengthen our understanding of each other. We've come to the point in our relationship where we no longer have pitched battles in the halls, but instead we go to each other for advice, conversation, and the occasional ride somewhere fun. Because of Caleb, my knowledge of boy's fashion is much more extensive than my knowledge of girl's fashion, and trips to the mall feel weird without going to the Hollister and American Eagle guy's departments. He's fiercely protective of his sisters and checks up on me to make sure I'm keeping my act clean. Even though he's not demonstrative with his love, you can see it through little glimpses of his care for us. He thrives in large social groups, and family conversations are so much duller without Caleb's ready wit and extrovertism.

Audrey is my personal fashion police and chief confidante. She's always ready to tell me if an outfit matches and looks good if I'm willing to ask. (Sometimes she even volunteers the information.) I'm sure that, without her, I will look like quite a mess some days. Many of you reading this post have no idea what I'm talking about because most of my outfits are "Audrey-approved" before I leave the house, but I've come up with some things that have sent her into spasms of horror. :-) Audrey and I have gone on many excursions together, and the best part of these trips is always the time we spend talking in the car. When someone is so close to you that you only have to say one word and they immediately know what you mean, that is a gift from God. She can see right through me every time I pretend things are going differently than they are, and she's always willing to offer a listening ear and a helping hand. We also laugh...a lot! I would say that is one hallmark of all my relationships with my siblings. Laughter is the mortar of our friendships.

Lydia was my baby when we were growing up. Although she's only 4 1/2 years younger than me, it seems I was always packing her around and "mommying" her. It's strange for me now to be able to interact with her on the same level, but it's been an incredible blessing as well. She is such a busy bee...last Saturday Mom and Dad went out for breakfast and left us with instructions to get food for ourselves (translation: cereal). But when I got out of bed, Lydia had made Swedish Pancakes, which are like crepes, for all of us. This is no easy undertaking, but she gamely slaved over a hot stove to make us a delicious breakfast without being asked. She bought a trampoline last summer and is constantly begging us to play on it with her, and she loves to take walks with me and Otis or whoever will join us. She is becoming an amazing babysitter because she has just as much fun playing as the kids do, and she knows how to have fun no matter what we're doing.

Jacob...wow...what do I say about him? He has no inhibitions and simply does whatever he feels is right without caring about peer pressure. He is constantly drawing or writing something new from one of his many imaginary kingdoms of Beanie Babies or superheroes or people. If you've never seen one of his creations, you should ask him sometime. They are so intricately detailed, and the creativity is astounding. I'm sure he must be some kind of genius, I just haven't figured out which kind yet. He is more demonstrative with his love than Caleb; I can hardly be sitting down somewhere at home without him coming up and putting his chin on my shoulder, just wanting to be a part of what I'm doing. One of the greatest things about him is that I'll think I finally have him pegged and then he'll do something completely out of character and mystify me further. He has the habit of asking me random thought-provoking questions and not leaving me alone until I answer them. And of course, he's incredibly funny!

I wouldn't trade one of these people for the world...their many peculiarities and strengths are just what have made me who I am today, and I know that they will continue to sharpen me.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Ever Heard of Jilmil Hazjak?

Jillian Rose Hazel's Aliases

Your movie star name: Chips Percy
Your fashion designer name is Jillian Paris
Your socialite name is Smurfee Bellingham
Your fly girl / guy name is J Haz
Your detective name is Cat Meridian
Your barfly name is Orange Margarita
Your soap opera name is Rose Boyer
Your rock star name is Chocolate Cheetah
Your star wars name is Jilmil Hazjak
Your punk rock band name is The Happy Nose



Beautiful. I now demand that each of you call me by one of these names at some time and see if I notice. :-)

Sadly, that's the end of the weird quizzes for the day. I hope y'all had as much fun as I did!

Do I Talk Like a Yankee? Horrors!

Your Linguistic Profile:

70% General American English
15% Upper Midwestern
5% Dixie
5% Midwestern
5% Yankee

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?


More than you ever wanted to know about me, I'm sure. Today is the day of random blog quizzes in order to relax. I think I'll even do another, just to amuse y'all. (Have to get the 5% dixie in there!)

Um...I was hoping for 18, but...

You Are 12 Years Old
12

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.
13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.
20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.
30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!
40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?


Yeah, that's me. So mature. Aren't you proud?

Monday, April 25, 2005

My Weekend...(read if you want a nap)

I should write...but I'm not sure what to write about.

I guess I'll just give you the boring update on my weekend because I'm not inspired to write about Mexico. I need to look at the pictures to get fired up again. :-)

Let's see...Friday night I went to a friend's senior piano recital. I'm glad I won't have to go through that torture! Although I do have an opportunity to play in public if I brush up one of my pieces. I can't decide if I want to do it or not. You have to audition, but it's not really that big of a deal to audition for it. I just don't want the extra stress, and I don't like the feeling that it might be showing off. We'll have to further examine my motives before I decide this question.

After the recital we rented three movies. Each of us girls got to pick one out. I only watched two of the three and I wasn't super impressed by either, so I'll spare you the review.

Saturday I spent five and a half hours at Starbucks studying for my geology and sociology tests I have to take today. I already took the geology one and didn't feel like it went very well. I guessed on more questions than I really feel comfortable guessing on. We'll see how the grade comes out. I hear Mr. McKeever grades on a curve.

Sunday I went up to Concrete for my uncle's birthday and then came home and didn't do much of anything for the evening. It was a good feeling! Audrey and Lydia and I spread blankets out in the sun and read and talked and played on the trampoline. I haven't been able to take as much time as I would like to just "hang" with them, and it was really good to do that.

I guess the most exciting thing I did was dinner at the Breakey's on Thursday, but you can read about that on Chris's blog. It was a tragic loss in poker and I was awful at Frisbee, but I had a good time.

So...I hope y'all had fun last weekend and, if you can, are planning on enjoying a beautiful evening at Bender Fields! See ya there!

Monday, April 18, 2005

Monday, Monday

OK people, so we're taking a brief break from Mexico because I don't have time for a long and informative post. I've officially decided that Monday mornings are NOT cool. In the words of Garfield, "I hate Mondays!" Actually, I don't truly hate them because Mondays are also softball games, which are superly fun and cool. But Mondays at school are miserable. I have this problem with doing homework on the weekends, and this weekend was no exception. Sleepovers, roadtrip, shopping excursions, movies, multiple trips to Starbucks, games, a track meet, cooking, going to restaurants....it was crazy insane. I had so much fun, but I only barely got the homework done that was due today and now I have large amounts to complete before tomorrow. *Sigh*

So....there's only something like nine weeks left of spring quarter. This is so hard to believe. I graduate in 60 days! I think I'm in shock because this just really hasn't sunk in yet. Then off to CYIA, then a summer packed with work and hopefully many last fun things with my friends, and then a roadtrip to Southern California where I move in at Master's on August 21! Wow...

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Vueltas, Caballos, and Amigos

How big do you guys think my room is? I haven't measured it, but I feel like it's huge. The house we built was 11' x 22', or two 11' x 11' rooms. Two hundred forty-two square feet. I have the most awful feeling that the square footage of my room alone approaches that figure.

So the first day of actual work was really exciting. I was hyper that morning for many reasons (not the least of which was that I got to wear a really cool toolbelt). We sang as we drove to the worksite in the less-crowded conditions of the mini-bus as opposed to the van. The house we were building is in Triki, the Oaxacan village. The Oaxacans were brought up from southern Mexico basically as slave labor, and they only recently gained independence and moved to a hill near Vicente where they built Triki.

As we turned into the village, there were kids everywhere. I was waving out the window as some of them watched us drive past, and a little boy flipped us off! I was dumbfounded at such a welcome, but we saw him again and he was friendlier. The closer we got to our worksite, the more kids were surrounding the mini-bus on all sides. As we got out, we were basically mobbed by kids from every direction. My friend was holding a bag of embroidery floss for making bracelets, and a couple of them did their best to grab it from her. Many of them were calling, "Compra, compra", asking us to buy the bracelets and necklaces they dangled from coat hangers. John, ever our leader, told us not to buy or give out anything until the last day or else there would be so many people around that we wouldn't get any work done.

The building materials were there, but the guy who had the plans wasn't, so we decided to play with the kids in the dirt road while we waited. Dan, who is fluent in Spanish, went into the fenced-off yard to meet the family. For a minute I just stood there, overwhelmed to a point of paralysis. There were kids everywhere...kids that couldn't understand my native language and I was only beginning to understand theirs. I tried to recall even a single Spanish word, but I blanked. Finally another girl came up to me and asked me, "How do you say 'How old are you?'" Ah-ha! Here was something I knew....at one time. I raked my brains for a minute and finally came up with it, "¿Cuántos años tienes?"

Suddenly I came unfrozen. I began asking children around me their names, their ages, if they had siblings, what they liked to do. But the moment when they really decided they liked me was when I picked up a little boy who was pestering me and swung him around, laughing. Soon I was surrounded with clamors of "¡Vuelta!" and "¡Caballo!" I gave them helicopter rides and piggy back rides until I felt my arms would fall off. Finally I said I couldn't do any more because I was too tired. This was answered with a loud chorus of "¡Uno más!¡Uno más!"--"One more!" Finally I spotted Chad just standing nearby. "Go ask him," I told them, shooing them in his direction. They obeyed, and my back was never quite the same on the whole trip. However, I had made some new friends. :-)

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

This is Mexico?

I don't know what I was expecting. All I know was it was not at all what I was expecting. My first thought upon entering Mexico was, "Oh God, what is this place?" That was a true prayer, not taking God's name in vain. I was overwhelmed by it and I was only in Tijuana. It was crowded and dirty and the paint was peeling off buildings. I pressed my face closer to the window, trying to get accustomed to this entirely different world. We raced through Tijuana towards the ocean and Rosarito, our first stop.

As we headed west, my friend John pointed out a long fence that climbed up steep hills and drove straight down valleys. "That's the US/Mexico border," he told me. He said that the fence was much higher than it looked and, especially in this area, very dangerous to attempt to cross. As we neared the Pacific, Sarah pointed to the spot where the ocean and the fence intersected. "I used to live right here," she said. "There're hundreds of names on that fence of people who died trying to get into America here." I was amazed. Things like this still happen! They're not just something you hear about in class or on the news...people are dying while trying to come to America.

I was quiet for quite awhile. I couldn't conceive of the desperation that would cause somebody to put their life on the line in order to live illegally in a different country, working for minimum wage and then sending the money back to Mexico. Most of the money in the Mexican economy comes from the US.

We drove through another area, this one along the ocean on highway 1. Here were the grand casas with huge glass windows and the resorts you see in brochures...a tourist's idea of Mexico. But it was too late to fool me; I had already seen the other side.

Finally we arrived in Rosarito. We drove right through downtown in our quest to find a spot to park two large vans pulling trailers. It was Easter Sunday...the most unique Easter of my life. Rosarito was overflowing with people in the streets, in the hotels, crowding the sidewalks and the beach. We were dropped off with a pick-up time and strict instructions to never go anywhere without at least two other people, one of whom had to be male. Two friends and I found a guy willing to brave the market with us.

Rosarito, too, was in various states of disrepair. John warned us not to buy food unless we had scoped out the cleanliness situation first and, under any circumstances, not to drink anything made with large quantities of water. Armed with this knowledge, we braved the streets. We paused for a moment to talk with an English-speaking shopkeeper who called out to us. We told him who we were and what we were doing in Mexico. Upon hearing that we were Christians, he launched into a description of the Holy Week festivities that had happened this past week. They had actually done a crucifixion! The man didn't die, but they nailed him to a cross after a parade down the main street.

Rosarito was such a place of contradictions to me. On one hand you had the Catholic people actually nailing a man to a cross in their misguided zeal, and on the other you had hundreds of bars and spring-breakers in various states of sobriety and dress. I was offered alcohol many times in that afternoon, but you will be pleased to know that the only thing I drank was Coca-Cola.

I didn't buy anything in Rosarito. The only time I was tempted was when little kids (about 2 or 3 years old) would come to me asking me to buy "chicle" (gum). But like I was told, "You can't buy from all of them." So I saved my money and just watched...watched this place, so different from all that is familiar, and yet now a part of me. Mexico, in all of the shock and filth, has shaped part of my soul, making it tender yet tough, and affecting my thoughts in deep and dramatic ways.

Monday, April 11, 2005

First Installment of Mexico

So I've been back from Mexico for a week and not yet managed to post a THING about it! Somebody please just check me for a pulse...that's so not like me. My goal is to post at least once a week and more if I have something interesting to say. Well I have hundreds of interesting things to say and I haven't posted in over 2 weeks!

The ride down and back was...let's just say...brutal. Thirty-six hours in a 15 passenger van holding 15 adults. I remember riding in a 15 passenger as a child and being crowded! Needless to say, I didn't sleep much! Something that made me happy for awhile on the ride, though, was waving at the Master's exit. For some funny reason, being in that area now feels a little like coming home to me. It was cool!

By the time I got to Mexico, I was already tired, but God gave me the energy to stay strong and healthy throughout the whole time and I know that was because of prayers. I was sick beforehand and sick immediately upon coming home, and people were sick all around me, but I was protected!

So...my team. It was 13 other people that I'd didn't know at all beforehand--a scary situation for a self-proclaimed introvert! (I know the math doesn't add up. It's because we also had a driver.) But God was amazingly good and I was able to really feel like part of the team. One of the nights we had a time of telling each other strengths and growths we had seen, and most of them confessed they were unsure about my addition to the team at first (I was like a quiet little mouse at our pre-trip meetings), but that I had really opened up. This was really encouraging because it's something I had to fight for. We were also blessed as a team in that there were no major personality conflicts and we all got along.

Being on this team also touched me in other ways. As they shared their testimonies, I saw God's amazing grace saving each one of them. To see these young Christians who were so much older than me inspired and challenged me. I've been "saved" for 13 years and I'm only 18, and we had all the way up to a 30-year-old who received Christ last year. But does my life show the fruit of all these years? Sadly, in some ways it does not.

God gave me new friends through this trip, and I hope I am able to keep them. I am beginning to see how my life has been so blessed because of the protection of a church upbringing, but there are many lessons these people learned from their mistakes that I would be wise to take note of. They are also just plain fun to be with and we made many great memories on this trip, with more to come when I write next!