Vox’s posts tagged peace corps

Buying the farm...

nobody@vox.com(Matriarch) — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 12:15:41 +0000

Ever feel stuck? In quicksand? Or amber? La Brea tar pit stuck? That's about where I am at the moment. Couldn't tell you when it happened exactly, I only know that one day I woke up and felt like I couldn't draw one more breath if something didn't change in a big way. No, not my marriage. I still think Honey is quite the best thing since sliced bread (on a good day, with Nutella). No, not the kids. They are all healthy, smart and mostly don't work my nerves too much. I am reasonably healthy, in good shape, have good friends, like my life in general, but just need a change. I just want to wake up and see a different vista, smell different air. And please God, not hear the booming "N" word from my wannabe- a- white- rapper neighbor's stereo.

For the longest time, if anyone had asked me what my dreams were, I'd have said my only dream was that my children would do wonderful things and have good lives. But that wasn't entirely true. If it were, I wouldn't be so addicted to travelogues and the travel section of the paper. I do dream of traveling and maybe joining the Peace Corps. But those dreams are for when I'm old. Miss Lillian old. Dodging babysitting requests from my kids.

If I am honest, I have to admit that the real long standing dream has always been about buying the farm. No, not figuratively. Literally. Moving to the country, being someplace where you never see a car go by. Having to plan a trip to the grocery store because you are so far out.

Since forever, Honey and I would drive places like Woodstock, NY, or some small town in Vermont and say, "Get the paper. How can we find a way to stay here for the rest of our lives?" Alas, since his job is in downtown NYC, and in the earliest days of our marriage, we had my parents who were not too portable, we never made the move. Later, as the prospect of a transfer to the Albany office presented itself, I backed away from the idea of a move Upstate. The land was affordable and certainly beautiful, but I didn't want to deal with the homeschool regulations and a major move away from everyone we know.

Over the years, the fantasy morphed from just living in the country, to actually doing something there. Like farming. Now, anyone who knows me will tell you that I am incredibly lazy, lethargic, sedentary. Have been since the womb. I also don't like getting dirty. While I love a good hike as much as the next girl, given my druthers, I'd curl up with a good book on the couch nine times out of ten. But still this crazy dream kept growing and wouldn't die. No matter how many times I told myself real farms get messy, and smelly, and someone has to shovel the manure. It just kept growing and getting more Technicolor as time went on. I could see myself in my Levi's (size 8; I'm always a size smaller in my dream. It must be all the manual labor) and modest tunic, wearing my best, old, well worn cowboy boots, living on a farm, sheering sheep and feeding chickens, maybe harvesting Angora from some lovely bunnies. (In the fantasy, they are always lovely. And they smell nice. It's never muddy and the goats are always Winnie- the- Pooh cute and never stinky and rambunctious.) I make goat milk soap and tend my bees. I'm a regular Alice Freakin' Waters in the garden too. Never mind that in real life, I planted my tomatoes this year and left them to fend for themselves.

I've read enough self -help books to know when a dream is this tenacious, you have to pay attention. And tenacious it is. I look at journal entries from 10 years ago, and it's all about "the farm" and being at one with my creature friends. I even joined a "homestead" group on Yahoo. Lots of people living the life, cutting their own wood, dressing their own venison, spaying their own animals, grinding their own wheat to make bread and I don't know what all. The only thing I know from reading it, is that I have a learning curve roughly the size and shape of Mount Everest.

So there is this dream, shared by two people. In Honey's version, he's gets lots of machinery to tame the land; tractors, brush hogs, back hoes, not to mention a whoop a@# workroom. The dream is almost complete. The only thing left out of the equation has been the the "where" we could magically transform the dream to reality. Since I live in one of the most populace states, the prospects didn't seem promising. In my small city of 70,000, they have taken to blowing off the tops of mountains to make "adult communities" and building condos on highway medians. So the dream always seemed that much further from reach.

Then lo and behold, one of my dearest friends moved to "Boonyville". The back of beyond. Hotzeplotz, Bumfxxx Iowa, Nowhereland. It's farmy, country, wide open space (quick! hurry before the evil develpers get their mitts on it!) And that brought the dream that much closer. We earnestly began our quest for a place to call our own in a land far, far away, but with express service to Wall Street.

I've talked before about the trials and tribulations of real estate shopping with special preps. We do have a list of requirements. And for a long time it seemed that the journey would never end. Maybe it never will. Therein lies the gut wrenching drama of feeling so stuck; like we will never progess beyond Sunday drives to look at what may be "the one". Perhaps it's just a midlife thing. Is that Peggy Lee I hear singing in the background? Maybe we are meant to be stuck here in the suburban wasteland of malls, malls and more malls with some condos thrown in. But I can't believe that. If I could, maybe I could just relax and enjoy all the millions of blessings we have right here and now.

We have prayed about this for what seems like ever. But things happen in God's time not ours. I know God has the best in store for us. I just get impatient to know what the best might be. To date we have seen hundreds of places, bid on at least four and been shot down each time. There has been nothing new coming on the market for the last month or so. At what point do you admit that the obstacles you have been encountering are not just normal tests but actual road blocks? As in God just does not mean for you to keep trying. Give up, get a life, and move on to something more accessible like making macrame plant hangers. Or here's a thought: Go weed the garden you do have! I don't know. For now, I will continue to pray about it, look at the listings, read my poultry catalogue and watch my Joel Saladin video. So far The Secret is not doing it. But we live in hope.

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self-doubt

nobody@vox.com(jamieleto) — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 01:54:22 +0000

text white recycled envelopes

<-- recycled white envelopes [pack of 25], $3. okay, i have officially decided, i hate looking for colleges. my main choices now are columbia college (the one in chicago for art people, not the one in new york for doctors) and the savannah college of art and design, even though my grades and school are way above their averages, drastically. this means, scholarships gallore, but oh my gosh... after googling top film schools, i'm sort of freaked out and doubting, doubting, doubting. firstly, they were giving so-called 'tips' about what schools look for. apparently it includes 'advanced writing skills' and 'acting experience.' i know, i hardly write twice a day, but god damn, i'm so nervous now. i'm so doubty and now that i've watched project runway for an entire day, it all comes down to is this really what i want? i love ideas, i love what film does and i love what i could do with it, but i'm not an actor. my writing skills suffice for myself and my mind. i like how i write, but i don't want to be some overly dramatic writer using
overly descriptive metaphors and some pointless prose that won't matter in getting my point across. as much as i love a strong, engaging writer, i do not see myself as one. i love to read, but my love of writing begins and ends with this blog i suppose. in writing, i don't think i'm that special. i write everyday, but i don't see myself being someone like my good friends kurt vonnegut, anthony burgess, truman capote and jane austen. as much as i love reading, all it had brought me is fantastic grammar skills and a window into a world i would not have known. i can write well enough, but i guess my main focus in high school has been more on grades, clubs and world awareness. i guess i'm more in tuned with the bigger picture than what i should be. i know colleges want you to blow your brains out to impress them and give them long, mentally draining essays about your 'amazing experience in key club' which was probably a lot less than what was actually done, or your 'rewarding time spent in the deca finals' which was primarily spent partying with other deca weenies, but you won't tell them that. high school for me has been planning for the future. my dreams of being a filmmaker, interior designer, fashion designer, which still are on the waiting list for complete answers; and my dreams of studying abroad in iceland or tokyo, going into the peace corps in africa or peru; and my plans to become a parent whether i find a husband or end up adopting a family of chinese girls who would've probably not have found life much better elsewhere. my life is about experiences, but can film give me what i want? that is my main question right now. i guess what i'm trying to express is, the pressure of the fact that i've focused on wanting to be a filmmaker for so long is starting to weigh down on me and i'm starting to wonder if i really want a part of the brutal business, as much as i'd rather be a michel gondry with no schooling on film and more with being a graphic design genius recognized. i don't know what i want, i just know i love film, but i have so much love of so much else that i'm becoming so lost and unable to sort out my loves from my likes and having difficulty discovering what i want.

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Peace Corps - The Good American Image

nobody@vox.com(Algar) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 02:13:29 +0000

A friend of mine is joining the Peace Corps this week and I thought I would do a little research in the program he is going to dedicate so much of his time to. According to their website,

"The Peace Corps traces its roots and mission to 1960, when then Senator John F. Kennedy challenged students at the University of Michigan to serve their country in the cause of peace by living and working in developing countries. From that inspiration grew an agency of the federal government devoted to world peace and friendship."

They work on helping developing nations with humanitarian efforts like doing vaccines, feeding the hungry and educating. Basically I would say that they are the good image that the US puts forth into the world. They provide balance to what we do in Iraq and else where, too bad they don't get the media coverage that Iraq does... This is not the point, I am really proud of my friend, it takes a lot of work to step out of your cultural skin and work aboard and be isolated from everything you've known and everyone you love. I think what he is doing will absolutely have a positive impact and because of that, I am a better person for knowing him. Andrew, I commend you.

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