visit from the parental units

this past weekend i was blessed to host my parents at my house in kansas city. the troopers that they are, they spent 12 hours in a car (or should i say "the ugly") to get here. but i think it was worth the drive!

we of course spent a large portion of our time together eating at various restaurants - getting lots of ideas of what to do, and sometimes what not to do, at schmucker's. i started the weekend by writing down each thing we all ordered, but soon forgot as we were eating such delicious food! i of course made them return to my two favorites: Blanc Burgers & Bottles as well as Oklahoma Joe's for classic kansas city barbeque. but i have to say my bestest culinary adventure that weekend was eating CHOCOLATE PEANUT BUTTER PIE from the one and only Schmucker's! dad brought out the deliciousness and it was by far the best thing i have eaten in months. definitely beats the typical beans and rice i eat on a daily basis! in the words of my aunt cynthia... "YUMMY!"

we also spent a fair amount of time working outside around the house. we drove about a half hour southeast of the city to pick up a rain barrel from some old warehouse.... 250 gallon bucket for $30! sign me up! but then we had to clean it and dad spent a long time hooking it up right to the gutter and getting a good valve for the end of it so we can water our GARDEN! yay! we also put up a fence around the garden to keep out the stray dogs that have been making their way into our beds of vegetables on an all-too-regular basis these days. and of course mom made two beautiful planters of flowers for our front stoop like she always does for my house! i am so grateful for all the help my parents lent this past weekend to beautify/mejorar my home :)

it was a lovely weekend that went all too fast (although i am grateful to be back sleeping in my own bed again...) my parents all the bestest ever. maybe someday soon i will live somewhere where they can visit me more than once or twice a year! here's hoping ...

the planting has begun!

The planting has begun...

My housemate john planted 72 tomato plants (yikes!) along with a select few other veggies to be transplanted later...

Our land is FULL of rocks. Everywhere. Pieces of foundation. Its ridiculous. So needless to say, using a tiller is out of the question. So we just use our brute strength, a hoe, and the garden weasel to make our raised beds by hand!

Here is the status of the herb garden. I transplanted some garlic chives from over in the other garden, and I also planted parsley and cilantro.

Here is the rest of the land we have to work with. Still lots to be done, lots of beds to be raised, lots of fun to be had!

The garden with the VS house in the background. Looking good!

snakes.

a few weeks ago john and i trompsed out into the plot across the street to get started on clearing out what will become our garden. we spent hours raking out brush, bushes, trash, etc. from the land. as i was raking out a big section of hay, our neighbors came running as they heard me let out a big scream. there was a (in my opinion) HUGE snake writhing around in what we quickly named "the snake pit." john took the snake across the street to an empty piece of land. and i kept raking. until i found another one. and another. and another. we ended up removing 6 snakes from the pit and i'm pretty sure i heard others rustling about in there. oh the adventures of starting up this garden....

spring is here.... ?

After several lovely days of 70+ degree weather these past few weeks, today it snowed.

but that did not deter me and my housemate john for getting an official start on our garden! now, i have never really gardened before, but luckily john's job, and his knowledge, is all about gardening. so my, our, garden will be in good hands!

this morning we started by planning what things we would like to grow in our garden, then dividing them into families, and trying to map out what our garden will look like...

across the street from us there is an empty plot of land. it appears as if someone used to garden on it, but has been somewhat abandoned lately...

(here is a look at the plot across the street)

lucky for us, RDA (Rosedale Development Association...[Rosedale is the neighborhood i live in]) officially "purchased" this land, and has given the MVS house permission to use it for gardening. it looks like it's going to be a lot of work, but i'm super pumped about giving it a shot!

(here my housemate john scopes out the scene)

(here is a view of the plot with the VS house in the background)

in addition to the numerous vegetables and other fun items we hope to grow across the street, we have a little slice of land next to our house that has been used by past VSers as a garden of sorts. we have decided this year to make it our herb garden full of basil, parsley, cilantro, and other goodies. today, despite the snow and sub-freezing temperatures, john and i trompsed out to get started on our herb garden.

(here is a look at the "garden" before we got started)

after a couple of hours of work, this small piece of land was transformed and is ready for some herbs to planted!

mmm pretty soil!

stay tuned for future updates on my gardening adventures this spring/summer!

my first airport pickup.

the sun is just setting as jessica and i hop in the catholic charities van and head out on our adventure. we make a quick stop to pick up B., a bhutanese refugee who was resettled in kansas city about 2 months ago. he and his friend are giddy with anticipation as they join jessica and i in the van. we hop on the highway and head north towards the kansas city airport, about 25 minutes north of our office.

we arrive 6 minutes before the flight is supposed to get in. B. and his friend follow us into the airport as we try to find the gate out of which our new arrivals will come. as we anxiously wait, B. explains to us that it is his brother-in-law (his wife's brother) along with his brother-in-law's wife and son, and father-in-law, that will be arriving shortly. while we wait i wonder how this new family will know where to go when they get off the plane. jessica reassures me that the big IOM (international organization for migration) stickers they wear are like a flashing red light and all stewards/stewardesses are trained to help people wearing those stickers to find their way.

in a moment, i see a bhutanese family cautiously walking out the exitway, apprehensive about each step and unsure of what lies ahead of them, what their immediate and longterm futures hold. B. goes up to them, but no words are exchanged, nor embraces. B. puts his hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder and says to me and jessica "this is the one." "welcome to the united states!" she says, even though they don't understand a word. the young boy with them quickly warms to his uncle that he hasn't seen in a long time, but the adults remain very quiet and apprehensive. we lead them to the baggage claim where we pick up the two bags that they have brought with them. 4 people. 2 bags. all of their possessions.

after a snafu with seating arrangements in the van (involving the newly arrived grandpa sitting in the booster seat instead of the boy) we make sure everyone has their seatbelts on and we are on our way. a rough bump in the parking results in B.'s head banging loudly with a very loud thump against the window and i spend about the next 5 minutes trying to subdue my laughter. these new refugees probably think i am nuts. nevertheless, we are on our way, headed back south towards the city.

we pull up to J.R.'s house, in a public housing complex. J.R.'s wife, B.'s wife, and the new arrival are all siblings. Although we try to make a slick exit, jessica and i are herded into the home along with everyone else. there sits grandpa, a little ninety-something-year-old bhutanese man with no teeth, sandals on his feet despite the snow, and a wood walking stick in his hand. what a delight. despite our protests we are forced to sit and enjoy some conversation with this large bhutanese family. B.'s wife immediately brings jessica and i glasses of cold pop, which we apprehensively accept, wondering why we are being offered beverages before this new arrival family that has spent their last 24 hours in travel leaving all they have ever known to start a new life in the united states.

it is getting late and jessica and i eventually leave, wishing the new family a restful night's sleep. as we head back towards the office i sit in wonder, completely unable to grasp what this new family is thinking at this moment in their lives. i have no idea what they have been through, and frankly have no true grasp of what their new realities will be like. i wish them the best. and who knows, maybe in 90 days after they've aged out of the reception and placement program, i might get to be their new case manager!

everything is broken.

I just finished reading a book that one of our Burmese interpreters loaned to me entitled "Everything is Broken: A Tale of Catastrophe in Burma" by Emma Larkin (a pseudonym). The book focused on Cyclone Nargis that made landfall in Burma on May 2, 2008. Focusing on this catastrophe and the Burmese government's response (or more accurately, a lack-thereof, and illicit denial of international aid), the book takes a critical look at the reality of life in Burma today and the military dictatorship that runs it.

If you want a good read that gives you a great look into the life of the Burmese, a highly recommend this book! Below are a few snipits taken directly from the book:

Events happen in Burma, and then they are systematically unhappened...Life goes on, economic conditions become untenable, the people rise up (individually or together), and the army cracks down. It is a relentless, unforgiving, and utterly exhausting cycle.

Parents cannot afford to send their children to school due to the unofficial bribes they have to pay for entrance fees and the inflated price of textbooks and uniforms. Patients at hospitals have to purchase overpriced medicines and sometimes even pay for the equipment necessary to treat their illnesses. People across the country are impoverished by random and illicit taxes charged by the township authorities for common amenities such as street lighting, which, as one letter writer made sure to point out, often don't work anyway.

The letters detail a wide variety of injustices, from forced labor and the confiscation of land to travel prohibitions and lack of political freedom, but the main concern voiced in the majority of the letters is about the rising cost of living. According to this incomplete poll, the biggest fear in Burma is, How am I going to feed my family?

To my mind, this is one of the great tragedies of life in Burma: that recent historical events - both large and small - cannot be honestly and openly acknowledged, debated, or even remembered within the country. Instead, the exact opposite takes place, and Burma's history is swallowed up by a strictly enforced collective forgetting.

Whenever I think of Burma these days, the Buddhist parable the blind men and the elephant comes to mind. In the age-old teaching, a king summons a group of blind men and places an elephant before them. Each sightless man is led to a different part of the elephant's body to touch the animal and feel what it is like. The king then asks each in turn to describe the elephant.

The man who felt the founded head says confidently that the elephant is like a water jar. Another, who felt the cylindrical foot, says the elephant is like a pillar. The man who felt the tusk says it is like an iron rod, and the one who felt the tuft of the tail says it is like a broom. Before long the blind men are arguing over their description of the elephant, since each one is convinced that his description is correct.

It is the same in Burma today. Given the regime's restrictions on information and association, it is difficult to form any public consensus or verifiable version of the truth. While certain events can be accounted for with certainty, there is much that remains unknown. Like those blind men in the parable, it has become impossible for anyone to see or fathom the beast in its entirety.

In a society where nothing can be taken for granted, distorted truths, half stories, and private visions are, by necessity, woven into the popular narrative of events. Burma is a place where the government hides behind convoluted smoke screens. It is a place where those who sacrifice themselves for their country must go unrecognized and can only be lauded or remembered in secret. It is a place where natural disasters don't happen, at least not officially, and where the gaping misery that follows any catastrophe must be covered up and silenced. In such an environment, almost anything becomes believable.

life in burma....

i think that the reason i took this volunteer position was to help this one client in particular that i have. he's the kind that makes me wonder - if i hadn't come along, what would have happened to him?

since i met him back in september, he has been homeless and unemployed. he has struggled with depression and alcoholism. he can be somewhat paranoid about what others say about him. the general burmese community does not offer him any sense of community. at times i have seen an utter lack of hope in his eyes. and frankly, i can't blame him for any of it...

in order to seek a better life and escape the horrors of living in Burma under the military dictatorship, my client and his family spent time in both Thailand and Malaysia. While trying to work in Malaysia, my client was arrested for being there without proper documentation. While he was in jail, his wife and three children went back to Burma. After awhile, he was given the offer to go to Denmark as a refugee - he denied. Awhile later, he was offered a life in the United States with refugee status - which he accepted.

as of right now, he has no home. he has no job. he hasn't seen his wife or three children in years. and he doesn't have the money to even call and talk to them.

his story, their story, tears my heart.

there is an interpreter that we use from time to time - she is Burmese and came to the United States 18 years ago. and for whatever reason she has really made it her mission to help my client, even though she doesn't have much herself. her father still lives in burma. her father is 70-something years old. and last week, he set out on a journey to find my client's wife and three children in a small village in burma. his journey was long, and included canoe rides in areas where there are no land routes. but he made it. he found them.

but things are not good. my client's wife is having heart issues. they are all sick. they do not have money for food. they do not have money to stay in their home - they will be kicked out this month. they have tried countless times to send their marriage and birth certificates to my client so that they can join him through the family reunification process. but for whatever reason the mail has not gotten to him. they need help.

the interpreter's father who went to visit my client's wife and children took a digital camera with him. he took some pictures and emailed them to his daughter, who then emailed them to me. i was able to print them out and give them to my client. i cannot imagine what it was like for him to see these pictures of his family and his home that he has not seen in years, and doesn't know if he will ever see again....