Sunday, September 30, 2007
Alarm
Last week I had a very scary start to my day. I didn't need to wait very long for my buses to work, so I was there very early. When I went into the school ( I have a key for the building) I heard this noise like "piep-piep", and I thought- oh no- and a few moments later the alarm set off. I didn't have a key for the room, where I could have make it stop, and even if I would have had one, I didn't know the number to put in. So I went out of the building to find someone who could help me, but there was only another volunteer who didn't know what's going on. So we had to wait for the principal. Luckily he came just a few minutes later, but they were the longest I ever had. Of course the police came also, but by then I was already in the library.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Into the Great Beyond
At work lately I have been sending emails. Lots of them. I send multitudes of one paragraph emails to various departments. Are they important emails? No ma'am. In fact, since I started sending them on last Thursday I have yet to recieve a single reply to any of them. It's one thing to feel like you spend your whole week writing what essentially amounts to inter-departmental nagging, and another altogether when it seems that your nagging has dropped off the face of the earth. It's not clear whether the collective silence is due to irritation or if everything that I have done has literally gone on into the great beyond. Some void in which tired, sad, unfortunate emails go to die. Who knows. But I do know that the project of updating our organization's website cannot continue until I receive some acknowledgement back from the other side of the yawning gap that is the Internet. So in the meantime, I'll be twiddling my thumbs I guess. Oh and writing a 200 word announcement for another section of the website. An undertaking that will be a bit shorter than this post, which I am writing on my lunch break. I can't figure out what I'm going to do all afternoon. This only took 15 minutes.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Revelry at the Michiana MCC Sale
Made the trek to Goshen for the "Michiana" MCC Sale this weekend. Major differences I notice between the Michiana sale and the Kansas sale are:
1. In Michiana, you stand in line for an hour to eat pancakes and sausage. The sausage is pretty good, I suppose. In Kansas, you stand in line for an hour to eat verenika, bohne berrogi, cherry moos, pie, zwieback, and borscht. And sausage. Every dish better than the next.
2. In Kansas, people play the Mennonite game with me. In Michiana, people play the Mennonite game with lots of other people, but not me. That is because I am a Mennonite of the Russian variety. This is the land of Yoders, Millers, Stoltzfuses, and Shenks, not the land of Schmidts, Goerings, Krehbiels, and Voths. I'm lucky if folks up in these parts have even heard the last name Gaeddert, let alone have a guess as to who I might be related to.
3. In Kansas, the people who direct cars into their parking spots in an open field are old men who point with yardsticks. In Michiana, those people are young men who point with one hand and wave the other in a continuous circular motion.
4. In Kansas, unlike Michiana, there are no buildings in the middle of the fairgrounds that have been burnt to a char in a manner resembling a nuclear holocaust. (Although I've been told this was the first year for that sort of thing at the Michiana sale, and that perhaps it was even an accident. I did hear that hundreds of homemade pies went up in flames. Seriously, that's a travesty.)
5. Michiana breaks up the monotony of the quilt auction with periodic hymn sings. A good idea, I think. Kansas should take note.
6. Apple fritters (Michiana) instead of Porzelke (New Year's Cookies) (Kansas).
Major similarities:
1. Michiana, Kansas ... doesn't matter. Money flows out of my pocket. Anybody have an idea of how much money is spent per capita at the Sale on a yearly basis? I suspect: $30, or maybe upwards, if you factor in the people who drop 5 grand on a quilt.
2. Lots of reveling in one's Mennonite identity. Total, unabashed Bakhtinian carnivalesque. Dionysiac, almost.
3. People of all ages participating in the same activities and enjoying them equally well. Amazing, when you think about it.
4. Likely uninteresting and somewhat alienating to someone who doesn't know anything about Mennonites.
5. Overwhelmingly Caucasian, except on MCC pamphlets and posters, which usually have pictures of non-white people.
Concluding thoughts:
I've spent too much time writing this.
1. In Michiana, you stand in line for an hour to eat pancakes and sausage. The sausage is pretty good, I suppose. In Kansas, you stand in line for an hour to eat verenika, bohne berrogi, cherry moos, pie, zwieback, and borscht. And sausage. Every dish better than the next.
2. In Kansas, people play the Mennonite game with me. In Michiana, people play the Mennonite game with lots of other people, but not me. That is because I am a Mennonite of the Russian variety. This is the land of Yoders, Millers, Stoltzfuses, and Shenks, not the land of Schmidts, Goerings, Krehbiels, and Voths. I'm lucky if folks up in these parts have even heard the last name Gaeddert, let alone have a guess as to who I might be related to.
3. In Kansas, the people who direct cars into their parking spots in an open field are old men who point with yardsticks. In Michiana, those people are young men who point with one hand and wave the other in a continuous circular motion.
4. In Kansas, unlike Michiana, there are no buildings in the middle of the fairgrounds that have been burnt to a char in a manner resembling a nuclear holocaust. (Although I've been told this was the first year for that sort of thing at the Michiana sale, and that perhaps it was even an accident. I did hear that hundreds of homemade pies went up in flames. Seriously, that's a travesty.)
5. Michiana breaks up the monotony of the quilt auction with periodic hymn sings. A good idea, I think. Kansas should take note.
6. Apple fritters (Michiana) instead of Porzelke (New Year's Cookies) (Kansas).
Major similarities:
1. Michiana, Kansas ... doesn't matter. Money flows out of my pocket. Anybody have an idea of how much money is spent per capita at the Sale on a yearly basis? I suspect: $30, or maybe upwards, if you factor in the people who drop 5 grand on a quilt.
2. Lots of reveling in one's Mennonite identity. Total, unabashed Bakhtinian carnivalesque. Dionysiac, almost.
3. People of all ages participating in the same activities and enjoying them equally well. Amazing, when you think about it.
4. Likely uninteresting and somewhat alienating to someone who doesn't know anything about Mennonites.
5. Overwhelmingly Caucasian, except on MCC pamphlets and posters, which usually have pictures of non-white people.
Concluding thoughts:
I've spent too much time writing this.
A Miraculous Bike Ride
So last Friday I was riding to work on my bike and suddenly I realized that I had yet to stop for a stop light. It wasn't that all the lights were green. I admit I run red lights on my bike but ONLY when absolutely no cars are coming. So this is how it went. The light was green/no cars are coming at all. All. The. Way. To. Work.
My thought process went something like this: Wouldn't it be cool if I could make it all the way with out setting foot on the pavement? This is amazing, I will probably have to stop at this next light. Ok, so maybe not there but I'll have to stop at some point. How is this happening? I have to stop at this one I'll just get up to the...Oh, it's green I guess I'll go. Wow, I made it this is amazing I never had to stop. This will never happen again. That was so amazing.
I ride a rout that has at least a dozen stoplights if not more (I have never counted them.) so this was pretty amazing. It wasn't until I set foot down just outside the door of my destination that I had to stop. Miraculous.
My thought process went something like this: Wouldn't it be cool if I could make it all the way with out setting foot on the pavement? This is amazing, I will probably have to stop at this next light. Ok, so maybe not there but I'll have to stop at some point. How is this happening? I have to stop at this one I'll just get up to the...Oh, it's green I guess I'll go. Wow, I made it this is amazing I never had to stop. This will never happen again. That was so amazing.
I ride a rout that has at least a dozen stoplights if not more (I have never counted them.) so this was pretty amazing. It wasn't until I set foot down just outside the door of my destination that I had to stop. Miraculous.
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