Day 6~I used to love the Tenderloin-till I made some tender coin

So we finally made it to the part of the city I had been itching to see-the Tenderloin.

For those who aren’t familiar, this would be the part of the city where car doors are locked and walking alone at any part of the day can be dangerous.

Thankfully we had my three really tall male friends to watch our backs. I really am going to miss them-they are quite hilarious. 

Anyways, you are probably wondering what we were doing in this shady spot and why I wanted to even set foot there. We had the opportunity to help out at a non-profit called Project Open Hands. They serve and deliver food to victims of cancer and AIDS or anyone whose digressive state is causing them to starve. 

What struck me most is not only did they serve this largely discriminated against group, but they were serious about their food-something I take seriously too. Instead of taking food donations, Project Open Hands finds the most nutritious brands who will sell in bulk, and if they can’t find what they are looking for make it themselves on site. Our group was part of the process of making and packaging peanut butter and trail mix. 

Finding pure ingredients says a lot about how much these people care. Never casting off a life that seems destined to soon be gone, but instead doing everything they can to ensure nourishment shows humanity's great capacity for hope. 

I guess the reason I wanted to see the Tenderloin was to see the whole scope of San Fran, a city is only as good as it’s weakest street. There I found all the beauty I had seen by the bay and in the woods. 

Our next stop through the graffitied streets was to a Muslim mosque. All the ladies wore scarves on our heads in respect of the tradition. 

As we entered into our gender specified spaces oddly enough I didn’t have any insubordinate feelings towards being seated in the back of the room. It occurred to me that my focus was not on those watching behind me, there was nobody watching or judging what I was wearing and how I was behaving. I was able to relax and shift my gaze upwards. 

The front of the loft was slowly being filled with a variety of men aging from their early twenties to forties. The variety of people was almost like being in the middle of a subway station instead of a Muslim prayer service.

Many women were accompanied by some of the most adorable children I have ever seen. Big brown eyes and round cheeks wandered between parents before the prayers began. 

The religious leader lead an arabic prayer that involved a lot of bowing, and then delivered a message in a very heavy accent. What I could understand from it were a lot of the same themes we had seen in the other religious services we have been attending. We are all one-violence and discrimination have no place in the life of following Allah. Also there is something more than our earthly existence that we are moving to collectively. 

Afterwards, we met with an Interfaith leader from the community who was very eager to defend the Muslim faith. He asked us what our preconceived notions of the faith were and encouraged us to ask lots of questions. 

It’s no secret that Muslims have been viewed as terrorists and patriarchal citizens. He explained how troubled this had made him and other faith leaders. He was very friendly and obviously wanted to present the Muslim faith in the best light possible, but I wanted to know what was really the case in issues such as gender roles. 

When I asked, he said that women have total equality under the Koran, and the separation and head coverings were meant to ensure there were no distractions or tension between the community. My friend Paige informed me that women in the Middle East had more positions of leadership before a cultural shift was enforced by a new governing power. So although it is clear that women’s rights have been horribly ignored in this part of the world in recent times, the faith tradition may not be what is to blame, rather the cultural interpretation. 

He was a big advocate for letting the individual decide how to practice their own religion. 

With some reservations, I asked another question that was very applicable to our group- what about the homosexuals? Again his answer focused more on the interfaith tolerance approach instead of clearly stating what the Muslim faith teaches. 

This scenario brings up one of the main struggles with interfaith, finding a way to be open and learn about different faiths without watering down or not truly expressing your own tradition. 

What I found after visiting our last faith site at a Jewish temple, was that in this environment I found a renewed desire to share my love of Jesus. 

We first meditated with our yamakas facing Jerusalem and I invited the presence of God to just take over. Although I was not immediately overcome with joy and love, I experienced a new dimension of my faith through the Shabbat service that followed-the history. 

Like one of our group members reflected afterwards-it was easy to cast off the Jewish faith as a Christian and think we’ve moved passed that and know more, when the truth is there is a lot of foundation there. The songs we sang were in the Hebrew Jesus spoke and gave praise to the same God we all know and love. 

The rabbi who led the service was very young and excited. He played the guitar and sang while chanting Hebrew in between verses-it was a very laid back service. 

Explanations of some of the Jewish traditions were given in the song books. While reading through, I came across something I hadn’t thought about before-prayers of intercession for the deceased. It only made sense, because they did not believe that Jesus was the Messiah, that eternal life was not seen as accessible to them after death.

This thought caused me to wrestle with my thoughts on interfaith more. Because as has been expressed many times at my church, religion is useless without a relationship with Jesus. 

Of course I had been told this for many years, yet seeing those outside of Christianity being filled with peace and love has opened my eyes to try to see just how big Jesus is.

He is not captured by just one culture or mindset. I will never be able to fully understand the role He plays in other’s lives without being open to who they are and where they come from.

I find this much more important than trying to sell someone a ticket to heaven. 

Although it is easy to stay in the Christian bubble and think if everyone just had Jesus the world would be great. It seems the problem isn’t non-Christians not knowing the gospel-it’s how that message has been presented and used to cause judgement and hate that rips through boundaries of different races, religions, and sexual orientation. 

My heart is broken- not because I look into another’s face and know they don’t know Jesus-but because they have known the prejudice and belittlement thrown onto their face in the name of Jesus.

The music of a United Religions Initiative cooperation circle called Musaique was a great reminder of the importance of supporting peace and equality. The group consists of Jews, Christians, and Muslims from all over the Middle East who play together to promote fellowship between these groups that bear deeply severed bonds. 

The woman who founded it, Lee Ziv, spoke with gratitude about the groups first appearance in the United States. Although the songs were mostly in Hebrew and Arabic, it was easy to sense their message of unity and shared cultural understanding. 

I was blessed with the opportunity to experience some of the movements for peace in the beautiful city of San Francisco. I can only hope now that I can continue to grow in learning more about what I can do here in Texas to keep shining that light. San Francisco will keep calling my name until I return. 

Day 5~I’ve been high-I’ve been low

So unfortunately as the theory goes-what goes up must come down. 

Although I’ve been blessed to be in high spirits throughout this trip, the bus ride to Muir Woods this morning left me extremely nauseated and by the time we reached Sausalito I had lost my debit card and was feeling extremely disoriented. 

That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy the incredible experience of getting to see a truly beautiful natural reserve spotlighted by rays of sunshine peaking through massive trees. 

My sense of comfort was just shaken a bit when I realized I only have $20 cash for the rest of the trip.

The forest was much more subtle than I expected, either that or my rose colored glasses are fading. What is good about that is I can appreciate things on a more realistic level not glorifying what the earth provides as something it’s not, but appreciating nature for what it is. 

I spent the afternoon at Fisherman’s Warf trying to release that sense of insecurity by taking in the simple nature of sea lions and of course the comfort of Ghirardelli chocolate.  

We were then served breakfast for dinner which can turn any day around-I don’t care what you say.

After that we walked to the modern art museum to find a line curving around the corner of the building-I had never seen so much enthusiasm for art museums. Many of the people there dressed in hipster style and looked like they were in their twenties-thirties. 

What interests me most about modern art is the way it levels everyone off. Very intelligent people will be the first to admit that they have no clue what a piece is trying to convey and where the artist is coming from. 

It can be very hit or miss-I really enjoyed photography that spoke of individual stories, such as a suicide rescue. However, I will never quite understand how a black canvas can pass as insightful. 

The experience of bonding with some of my group members by laughing at these trivial concepts was fun. 

A piece that really made me serious up was titled “lovers discourse” and showed a video of a man and a women talking circling a dark room on a projector. 

It struck me how the artist had used the space to really share how that reality  is experienced in the mind. 

Really that unity of exploring how each of our lives are felt and experienced is the goal of any type of art.  I thought of dancing and how we use our bodies to take what is concrete-our bodies-and express our abstract souls. 

If you’ve gotten lost in these last two paragraphs-let me bring you back up to the surface. Today I learned as humans sometimes we need to be shaken in order to be awakened. I still plan on eventually moving here and developing a further research of what the people and culture have to offer. 

Take me to my city by the bay~Day 4

Down by the bay where the rip gut grows back to my home I dare not go :)

So as I’ve stated above, we started out the day by my favorite place-the beach! We worked with the Presidio National Park rangers to stop invasive plant species in the bay area over by the golden gate

Yes, I know, very serious business saving the world in all from none other than the notorious weeds of the bay area.

Although I didn’t feel super impactful, I did learn a lot of about the biodiversity of the bay area and more reasons why I am going to one day live here.

In strawberry fields forever...

I also heard a lot from the main park ranger, Michael, who lives near the park with his wife and two kids. He said his wife was from Oklahoma as well and had moved to New York after graduating from Baylor and now teaches yoga in San Fran. His daughter is very into observing the environment (lil Jane Goodall) and his son love baseball. 

As I heard more about his life, I began to see more and more how the lives of people who lived here were not so foreign from my own. I didn’t need to be rich or well connected to enjoy this place and not get lost in it. 

After our intense weed pulling, we embodied the stereotype of land locked midwesterners enthralled by the ocean. Some of our team completely immersed themselves in it while others gliding along the foam and took pictures-utter joy.

We changed out of wet clothes and shook off our dirty feet before walking to China town. I must admit that the area really didn’t greatly interest me. Strawberries and macaroons kept me on a sugar buzz until dinner. 

Cuisine from Peru and Nepal were brought to us by our token international students who made homemade macaroni and spicy chicken. From there we were off to a Vedanta Hindu Temple. 

Now yesterday the little door on the religious portion of my brain had started to creak open. Today, it was blown wide open, leaving me to feel the winds of change and discomfort while learning intently a practice that intersected so uniquely with my own.

When the Swami walked in I was expecting a man from India or at least with dark skin, this man was white and elderly. He was dressed in peach robes I have seen in pictures of monks and spoke with an air of wisdom. 

We then went into the main service area and listened to songs sung in Sanskrit. When I read the lyrics I was very surprised to see how deeply they applied to my own faith.

They expressed beautifully the vanity of this world and the love of something greater that is full of love and hope. 

The Swami explained more about why this similarity existed after meditation. He said the Vedanta believe good and bad are at work in this world and help mold each other. 

He said God is like water in a shallow pool, it exists all around us and inside of us but because it reflects all that is around it, God can be hard to detect. 

We were able to discuss the many questions we had with a member of our group who is Hindu and Scott who is the enthusiastic religion major. 

It was hard at times to wrap my brain around this whole new system and try to understand this worldview. Although I did have moments of enlightenment, I realized that Hindu, much like Christianity, is not a one dose catch phrase. There was much philosophy that needed to be explored. The core essence of Christianity seems much easier for me to comprehend, but maybe that is because it has been evangelized so often. Through it’s sharing it has been simplified while Hindu remained more of a philosophy to be sought after. 

As you can tell, I’m walking a wobbly bridge as I head to new places, but I’m learning so much about my own faith and how that interacts with others. I can’t wait to continue to grow strong in that message of love and hopefully one day spread it more along the San Francisco Bay. 

Don't know what I was on but I think it grows in Oregon~Day 3

If I had to sum up today’s message in one phrase it would be-caution: foreign places and philosophies are closer than they first appear. 

We started the day going to Berkley- a campus I had heard of mostly in movies and I had always imagined as being miles away from TCU both physically and ideologically. 

Of course the place was picturesque, but with more of a cozy cottage feel like Stars Hollow (fictional town in Gilmore Girls). Nina, our guide from URI, had worked on the campus before and greeted students on our way to the Pacific School of Religion headquarters. 

The inviting atmosphere was something I did not expect. Graduate students (who were the age of some of my professors) led us on a tour throughout PSR which appeared to be a close knit group. Evidence of children who lived in the “dorms” and a community garden made it very different from any other campus I had seen. 

We were then greeted by two ladies who are involved with interfaith work on he campus and who had us open up about our own faith traditions and how they saw this approach. 

My mouth went dry as I thought of all the mixed emotions I had experienced even just within my family about how to approach those of different faiths. When others opened up, I began to see that this was normal and accepted as well. 

Although I had seen many Christians ignore the idea of interfaith, those who were involved in it had not ignored those traditions that may be more hesitant to jump on the ‘let’s all be friends’ band wagon. 

I realized how much growing I had to do in clarifying my own faith and how I relate to others. 

We were then privileged to be served a free lunch in the small but tasty dining hall, with the president of PSR and some alumni from TCU. It amazed me still how connected our small community was with this institute across the country. The professors here knew those who worked at the religions department at TCU and the alumni were still connected to their purple roots. 

We left the campus feeling very welcomed by the people there. We then went to visit another school of thought-Buddhism.

My own experience with this tradition had left me skeptical of the legitimacy of the practice, but I was interested in learning more. I talked with Nina, who is a practicing Buddhist, and she told me there were at least 40 different denominations of Buddhism that varied much like the Christian church. She said she was inspired by the teachings of Jesus and when I asked if she read the bible, she said she has read some of the gospels. 

Talking with her helped me see how Buddhism is experienced by an individual. When we reached the temple, the priest (I sadly cannot remember his name) helped add more depth to my perception as well.

He was an older Japanese man who although tended to trail off, had a lot of insight about relating Buddhism back to terms we might understand. He had a great knowledge of language and etymology which connected a variety of ideas in a new way.

For example, he explained that life is defined as breathing and went on to highlight words that were tied in with the word breath, such as wind and spirit. 

Our group did not have enough energy to absorb all he was saying, but we did enjoy sipping tea and trying Japanese treats.

When we returned, we recharged with a trip to the mall-a 6-story mall-fully stocked with the best stores around. Quality is something that does not need to be long sought after here, but can be bought. I haven’t given up on plotting schemes to financing living here sometime in the future. Until then, I will soak up every moment of this lovely place. 

Everyday so captivating I wish they were Golden Gated~Day 2

San Francisco-the place where architects come to just show off---

Not only are the buildings in this place nice, each one holds a design all its own. Its like walking through an art museum in a time machine, each glance capturing a new space.

Yesterday I started to have feelings for this place, but I must admit I now have a full blown crush on this enchanting city. It's simply beautiful in a way that's not that simple. Displaying its majestic views with a nonchalance that invites you to settle in.

Now that I'm done musing about the atmosphere for a while, let me go on to what I have learned about my trips purpose today-and that is to explore this idea of interfaith more.

This morning we met with the people who were involved and helped start the United Religions Initiative. Before this I was unaware that a movement existed for peace and justice with people of different faiths to affect positive change in our world.

I had always turned to my faith to find experiences to serve others, but this felt so much bigger. It made my heart leap to think of people with such marked differences not only learning about each other with an open mind but serving side by side for the same goal.

Admittedly, I had never really thought much about the social work of other religions. The atmosphere I was in sometimes led me to think that Christians were the only ones who felt called to feed the hungry, help the lost, and support the lives of others.

We learned that URI works through what they call cooperation circles that are formed in different areas all over the world and must consist of at least 7 people representing at least 3 different religious traditions.

One such circle was featured in a video and consisted of young women from the Middle East, who I believe were Hindu. They were providing trees to families who had just given birth to a girl. Most of the time, these babies were aborted because females were not valued in society as highly as males. Seeing their passion for supporting life through a religion that is completely out of my scope really hit me with what we shared. The human heart. With all the complexities of the make-up of our identity, we all still have a heart that loves and breaks and longs to beat one more day.

I saw more of that heart in the faces of the people we met in San Fran. Our meditation instructor shared with us how she had started practicing with her mother when she was diagnosed with cancer, and had continued after she was gone to find cohesiveness and synergy throughout her day.

Hearing these stories is like finally stepping out the door after staring out the window, a dimension you always knew was there is finally brought to light.

Aside from building figurative bridges, we got to see the grand Golden Gate bridge doing my favorite walking alternative-biking! Apparently I am one of the only ones in my group who has actually continued the practice long after my childhood years. It was great getting to see my team members tackle the hills of SanFran together-giving me plenty of picture opportunities.

I even took some while on my bike-which dubbed me the little rebel of the group

I got to experience a unique experiment which was a mix between an elliptical and scooter

I had a truly authentic SanFran dish-clam chowder and sourdough

Each moment I felt more and more at home in a city far from my mid America upbringing.

Save me San Francisco~Day 1

It’s funny how cities have a way of capturing ideals and building them into the very architecture of their essence and projecting them onto the make-up of its people. 

I had always held California as a place in my mind that carried a peace and freshness that had been suffocated in the smog of New York and in my case the small towns of the midwest. 

When the reality of my escape to the sea was finally in flight, I still didn’t know where to cast my hopes. As I read an old article from National Geographic, exploring the history of the San Francisco Bay, I wondered if a treasure of a city could really exist. 

We walked out of the baggage claim and the air was different. A captivating breeze that makes you want to go fight the current of whatever it is facing you that day.

Small houses with pastel colors lined the hilly streets as the train passed by. I knew right then that this was going to be one of those places that would not take much settling for me. Even though we had never officially met, its presence had flooded my head since I could remember. 

The hostel where we were going to stay 
is just what I had imagined a college dorm would be like when I was younger. The locals themselves seemed to be predominantly young. I tried to separate myself from the scene, like I had done in other cities, by looking into the faces of obscure strangers. The trouble was that a lot of them were young like me and seemed familiar. 

In my room the city surrounds me and instead of sirens I hear laughter. Maybe this place was blessed with the peace of St. Francis, or am I just fooled by its classic sheen?

TCU weekend of the arts

What is truly unique to a campus of a mere 8,000 undergrads is not only the ability to wave hello to fellow students in passing, but to see them sing notes in the stratosphere and perform movements with breath taking grace on the weekend.

Although in a way it does take away some of the mystique of the performers, sharing purple blood brings a real camaraderie to the high arts of ballet and opera which sometime loose touch with the common folk or in this case Frogs.

As I stood on my tip toes to watch the first piece in DanceTcu's Spring show through the window of the door (fashionably late), I got that feeling of nostalgia akin to watching older dancers practice at my home studio. Now before this post starts to sound like a scene from Chorus Line, let me get onto what I saw.
A fellow student taking on the presence of a celestial ballerina supported by her legion of angels or male dance majors.

I walked into the colosseum style auditorium to see a surprising number of students. While the lights were on I slid into a seat in the front and relaxed in a the comfortable space. My friend watched the wind player as he prepared and noted his nervous habits were similar to her own before she played.

The darkness fell, but we were still at ground level with the stage. I watched women I see in classes breathe heavily in and out and was reminded of my own experiences. Wondering if they could see my breath leaving me as my light head rushed into motion.

The double vision added depth to the performance. I could appreciate the work while still sustaining the wonder of how the synchronization was accomplished.

After the modern, which generally leaves a heavy presence, a scene from Swan Lake returned a bright facade to the stage. I heard my friend giggle next to me when our male friend came out in tights. Students who live in my dorm entered the stage living out every girl's fantasy in tutus and tight buns.

The transition of seeing the performers exist in two different dimensions was still a little puzzling to my senses. My mind had somehow fixed them in one place and had to adjust to the new setting.

This experience carried on to TCU's operetta performance of Die Fledermaus the next day. How students I had talked to in normal conversation had the ability to transform their voice and appearance was beyond me. Though I am much more familiar with dance than opera, the show seemed in another realm than campus life.

The high arts were nonetheless brought down to a comfortable level for this chill gal, while still maintaining their prestige. Yet it did make me wonder how this small campus culture has possibly broken some trends of elitist at least for the arts.

So why do we tend to embrace either the person or persona when both abilities exist and are at play in every individual? More on this in the future, for now go watch a show featuring someone you know and see if you are not puzzled and amused as well.

I want to ride my bicycle~

"The bicycle has done more for the emancipation of women than anything else in the world."-Susan B. Anthony

http://www.copenhagencyclechic.com/

Only in America can this two-wheeled contraption become a symbol for both childhood innocence and a trend for social consciousness. Although they are more prevalent across the pond, bicycles have put the spin in the hipster's steps and lightened the carbon footprint for many Americans. 

It's amazing how a device that has such a simple presence has caused some revolutions of its own. 

Women's fashion and mobility were changed as the bicycle provided individual freedom to travel. Their long skirts made riding difficult which led to more form fitted clothing. 

Although they are not often linked with horse power, the bike was first invented when poor agricultural conditions led to less horses and a need for alternative transportation. After taking a variety of forms, the standard bike similar to today's structure was popular at the advent of Ford's first motorized vehicles and helped inspire its mechanics.

It is hard to imagine too that the Wright brothers used the bike to achieve mobility in flight and manufactured some of their own to sell. 

Now if the bicycle led people to think progressively, fly, and travel faster than their means, what does that mean for the people using them today? Are they merely vintage? A sentimental attachment? A rebellion against the excessive resources of technology?

Whether acknowledged or not, the bicycle remains an expression of individual freedom and power. Because the machinery does not rely on an outside resource to operate-the work put into it is felt directly if not more by the rider. 

The trouble comes when the rider realizes that despite exhausting their efforts, they can only go so far on a bike. Now here we are worrying over foreign oil, global warming, car accidents, and plane crashes. 

Now back to the bike, simple mechanics-two wheels-handle bars-and pedals. It all comes back to that very American idea that we have the power to change our course and move ourselves forward-or so it seems. 

*info for this post was used from the July 2010 issue of Mechanical Engineering article Credit to the Bicycle by Frank Wicks

Descending into Greatness

                                                                     
http://www.hawaiimagazine.com/images/content/Hawaii_Oahu_Kauai_Big%20Island_film_Waikiki_movie_beach/MoviePost2.jpg

 There's trouble in paradise in the film The Descendants which captures the brokenness and beauty that make up the life of a human soul. Conflict and decision have finally come to a peak in the life of Mike King, who until his wife's sudden boating accident, had slowly drifted away from his family and roots on his Hawaiian island home. Now he must return to the painful state of his two daughters caused by his absence and tend to his wife's unresolved mistakes.
    George Clooney creates a perfect canvas for the truly distraught state of his character. His role is supported by Shailene Woodley who portrays a maturity unseen in her other film roles. The two share a very believable father-daughter bond that grounds the characters' footing through their search for resolution.
      The film's bleak look at what it calls the human condition will strike a chord with a number of audiences. Like most good stories, it holds a mirror to this generation and the family structure. As King looks over portraits of his kin who gained their family treasures from the land he now sees it come to waste. He realizes he is merely a descendant of the Kings, but is a stranger in his home.
         The words of this script will haunt you with their wit and clarity. Although emotions reach their peak, the story plays off like an effortless float.