(Extra) Ordinary

Extraordinary: beyond what is usual, ordinary, regular, or established.

My first 2 and a half months here has definitely been extraordinary.  Different people, Different place. Different expectations.  The first familiar places I found were Starbucks and McDonald's.

Grande White Chocolate Mocha with Cream
Cheeseburger. No onions. Small Fries and a Coke.

These phrases just roll off my tongue. They are routine. Something that comes so easily to me.

Unlike exercise!

For those who know me, I have a major aversion to exercise.  Don't get me wrong, I can walk around the Magic Kingdom or Epcot all day and never complain, BUT put me on treadmill or tell me to walk around a lake and I will complain and find any excuse not to go.

The United States is built for cars.  Driving is the fastest way to get around as most of the U.S. apart from the trains in the metropoles.  Here in the UK everyone walks.  There are paths and pavement (sidewalks) everywhere.  Across the street from the entrance to school is a nature preserve that attracts butterflies in the Spring.

Every week on my day off, rain or shine, I walk into town.  The walk down the hill is wonderful and I love every second of it.  The walk up however? Dreadful! Especially when I'm carrying groceries.  Every time I started walking to town my calf muscles would instinctively start cramping - I'm pretty sure they have a mind of their own.  I hated it.  Some days I would be tempted to turn around or not go at all. But I kept going.  7 weeks. 1 or 2 times a week.

Then I went to Derbyshire on a retreat/class with my fellow YAGMs and everything changed.  Mycah, Maridith and Chelsi asked if I would like to join them on a walk. I accepted thinking it would be maybe 20 minutes.  Boy was I wrong!

Mycah was on a mission to get to the top of the cliffs.  Immediately my brain and body shut down.  It was too hard, too far.  I was too tired, too out of shape. As I trudged through pastures and came upon a very friendly horse that wanted to accompany us to the top, I thought of excuses I could use, but I never spoke them. I continued up the hill with a few breaks for photos (but really to catch my breath). We emerged from the pastures and had to go up a small muddy hill to get to the road.  It was slippery and I was brilliantly wearing a white coat.  I handed my coat up to Chelsi. I got halfway and started to panic about slipping and falling.  Maridith went up ahead and helped me up, but not before the stinging nettles attacked! In case you were wondering, nettles in your armpit hurts - beware the nettles!

We walked up the road to another path where I decided I could go no further.

"Guys, I think I'll just wait here for you.  I can't do it."
"I'll walk on the road with you."
"I don't think the road goes where you are going."

The side of the cliff.

"Yes it does. Come on."



We walked and found the entrance to the cliffs.  We walked around puddles and more nettles and reached the edge.  It was breathtaking.  I had no words.

I am so thankful that those girls wouldn't let me give up.

The conversation above was between me and Chelsi.  But it could easily be a conversation between me and Jesus.  Jesus walks with us everyday.  He stops when we stop. When we reach that moment where we just don't think we can go any farther, Jesus offers to walk on the road with us.  He reminds us that he loves us, and that he didn't die so that we would give up when life gets tough.

I can do all things through him who strengthens me. - Philippians 4:13

Two days after this climb to the top, I got a massive charlie horse trying to run to a less full train car, then had to stand for an hour.  Now I can walk into town, do my shopping, and walk back up the hill with no cramps in my calves.  What was once extraordinary is becoming ordinary.  

Ordinary: customary; usual; normal

The UK is slowly becoming home.

Sunset on the cliffs

~Lina

Solitude

One of my biggest concerns upon learning that I would be serving in the United Kingdom for a year, was time spent alone.  I was told from the beginning that I would have more free time than work time, especially in the first few weeks.  I told everyone who asked that some solitude would be fine.  I would figure out how to entertain myself.

I've always considered myself an extrovert.  I love being around people, making new friends, being center of attention, and making a fool of myself.  I'm the first to volunteer to be a guinea pig during lectures and conferences.  Being around people has always been easy.  So naturally, being alone for an extended period of time was worrisome.  I worried about making friends.  I worried about being seen as an outcast, someone who clearly didn't fit in.  I worried that my outgoing personality would be frowned upon.

Even though my Meyers-Briggs Personality Test says I'm and ENFP (Extrovert iNtuition Feeling Perceiving), I'm finding that my inner-introvert is slowly emerging.  The first few weeks I was very quiet.  Only spoke when spoken too, and even then my answers were short. One sentence. Maybe two. I tried so hard to conform to what I thought were the expectations of the school and society.

When I met a small group of people for a bible study, I didn't say one word for the entire 90 minutes other than, "Hello, I'm Aline."  I listened.  I tried to decipher the personalities of the other 4 people in the room. At the end, we all shared prayer requests.  Mine was prayer for a solid schedule to be approved soon.  I didn't ask for what I really needed - Strength to get through the week.

I was so frustrated with myself after because I was afraid!  ME!  Afraid of new people.  Who was this girl?? Surely, it wasn't me.  I don't think I've EVER been afraid of meeting someone new.  I was a totally different person for the first 3 or 4 weeks. Shy, quiet, reveling in the alone time I was given.

watching rugby with MK, MT, and KC

Slowly, I came out of my shell.  I'm more myself than when I started but I still have a long way to go. The girls see more of my true self than any of my colleagues.  I can be goofy with the girls and they don't judge me (at least not to my face).  We play games and sing songs.  Cook brownies, watch rugby and make cheese toasties (Grilled Cheese).

Presently, I am in my flat, alone.  All of the girls are gone for half-term break, and I am here.  I wasn't sure I how I would feel about these few days alone before a conference with all my UK YAGM friends, but I'm starting to love this time.  I can sing at the top of my lungs.  Watch movies (currently listening to "The Lizzie McGuire Movie"). Listen to music and mostly, process.  It gives me the time to really think about everything that is happening here.

Today, I realized that I don't have to be one thing.  I don't have to be Aline the Extrovert, or Aline the Introvert.  I can just be Aline. I don't need to try to be someone that I am not.  If I want to really, truly be present here, I just need to be.  I need to say yes to new experiences (like being forced to try Marmite by the girls. It was bad. really bad.) I will make a true effort to get to know new people and make friends.  I can claim a few already, but there are so many people I see often, and I don't know more than their name - sometimes I can't even remember that!  But I am making the conscious effort to try harder.  And for now that has to be enough.

~Lina

Sticky Labels

Teacher
Pretty
Gay
Straight
Black
White
Politician
Migrant
Intelligent
Blonde

These are all examples of labels that we stick to one another, usually before we even have a conversation.  They are based on what we see and what we believe to be true.  Labels can be positive or negative. The problem with labels is that once we label a person we have attached an assumption to them, and may or may not choose to actually get to know them based on that assumption.

Sticking a label on a person de-humanizes them.  It causes us to view them as something OTHER than a human being. Every human has a story.  Every story is important.

Sunday evening, during chapel we asked the girls to write labels on stickies and place them on my jacket.  At the end I took off the jacket full of labels and placed it at the cross.  Jesus not only CHOSE to interact with those who are labelled, but he was often labelled himself.  His death frees us of our labels.  Ones that others give to us and ones we give ourselves.  What struck me the most about this activity wasn't the fact that I was being labelled, but that one girl actually apologized as she stuck the label onto my jacket. She was the only one who said anything remorseful.

Some labels

more labels

Her reaction stuck with me throughout the evening. What if we ALL apologized when we labelled people?  Or better yet, what if we consciously chose NOT to label others? What if we actually LISTENED to the stories of people around us and made an effort to help them?

personal commitment

80+ girls in Winchester, UK made the commitment to look past labels tonight.  And for that I am hopeful.  Hopeful for the future.

Prayer