Happy Natural Disaster Week!

As far as nature is concerned, it has been quite the eventful week. First, there was a 5.8 magnitude earthquake on Tuesday. Then, there was a Category 1 hurricane this weekend. Now, as far as numbers go, they aren't terribly large and aren't expected to cause a lot of destruction. But for a city whose biggest problem is heat and a big snow storm every few years, both of these cause a lot of hype.

I had the day off on Tuesday, so I was just sitting down to lunch when I heard the rumble. The entire thing lasted 30 seconds, but the rumble lasted for at least 10. When I was in Peru in 2009, we had two earthquakes, so my immediate reaction was, "Huh, this feels like that. No way." So I sat and tried to think logically what it could be. "Well, the laundry room is right below us, but that couldn't be it. They aren't doing construction, so that's not it." Pause "Oh wait, now the walls are shaking."

It was at this point that I determined that there is no logical reasoning in my brain during emergency situations. My adrenaline takes over and that's that, which makes me a lousy candidate for any EMS job potentials. I did a quick analysis and determined that I'd rather be outside instead of under a table, and hey, my building wasn't collapsing at the moment, so I sprinted for the door. The door to the building is about 10 feet away, so it wasn't hard to get there. It was only then, when I was the very first person outside, I realized that 1) I was clutching the tofu that I was about to eat for lunch (how classy...) and 2) my response probably could have been dumbed down about 10x and things would have been fine.

When I was in Peru, I woke up to the earthquake. Once again, I thought it wasn't possible, but I realized that everything was shaking. I could make out the walls in the dark, which looked like waves, starting at the bottom and rippling up to the top. I'm not the happiest or most caring person in the world when woken up, so I thought "Eh, it's an earthquake, it will be over soon." And it ended and I went back to sleep. The walls didn't look like that here (Peruvian building codes are slightly different), but I could still see the entire building and surrounding building shaking, which gets your heart racing. Another difference is that I had zero ability to calm myself down, and I'm pretty sure that has to do with one reason and one reason only: in Peru, I only had to watch out for myself (and apparently, when I'm sleeping I really don't care what happens to me). But now, I have Steven. I could not stop thinking about him. I knew that he's smart and strong and was fine, but I just wanted to hear his voice or get an email or something saying that everything was okay (I'm sure all married women can relate). Two hours later, he was at our door, and then finally I could breath again.

Californians hear/feel a 5.8 earthquake and continue on their merry way. DCers feel a 5.8 earthquake and freak, not just because they aren't used to it, but for a different reason. I challenge you to think of it this way: the earthquake started as a rumble for 10 seconds, and then everything started shaking. Almost 10 years ago exactly, a similar situation happened in the Pentagon. They heard a rumble getting closer and closer, and heard a huge crash as everything started shaking there and in the surrounding area. I think if you or I worked in the Pentagon on September 11, 2001 and still worked there today, we would be justified in our over-reaction.

Regardless, here is some political satire for your enjoyment:

I started questioning where exactly I had moved to once I found out that there was a hurricane that was most definitely going to hit us this weekend. Steven peaced out to Rhode Island to visit friends, so I had to hunker down by myself. It should be known that I absolutely hate being alone at night, so I was more afraid of that then this stinking hurricane. Honestly, I was pretty apathetic. Two months ago, our power went out for a night unexpectedly, and we didn't have flashlights or a lighter to light the two candles that we actually have. Apparently, that didn't phase us because we still don't have flashlights or a lighter. I tried to go to Target on Friday to get flashlights, but since they were sold out because the entire metro area was all hyped up about it, I gave up and went home.

Maybe it's because I'm from Pennsylvania and 1) we get a crap-ton of rain every spring (let's revisit the 24 days in April that it rained constantly, shall we?), and 2) the power goes out periodically. For snow storms, for thunderstorms, for no reason at all, the power just goes out. And it always comes back on. It was predicted that Irene would be full-force around 2 am, so I figured that I would go to sleep, the power would go out, and then it would be back on by 9 pm or so when it gets dark. And if all else fails, I'd just go to Ian and Brenda's. Probably not the best plan ever, but it turned out in my favor this time.

All in all, Arlington was only hit mildly. A couple of trees down and power outages, nothing huge. But the further east and south you moved, the worse it was. In Annapolis, the place was flooded by 9 pm. Alexandria was flooded then as well. About 20 miles south, there is still 3-4 feet of water on the roads. Asbury Park was pummeled, as well as the Outer Banks. Here, it just rained and was windy from 1 pm Saturday until about 9 am on Sunday. Nothing terrible.

I can't help but think of the pioneers who went before us who didn't have the media or technology to know that a hurricane was coming their way. "Huh, it looks like its going to rain..." And then it's a hurricane. But if they could do it, we can too, and probably a million times better.

At least we know.

Starbucks.

I've had 3 successful shifts at Starbucks thus far, and it has been... interesting. I must intro with this disclaimer: I think I'm way too sarcastic to be the perfect barista Starbucks wants me to be. For example, part of my training (about 60 hours... in a coffee shop) includes coffee tasting and coffee pairing. My manager and I take out a bag of coffee, grind it, taste it, and then we are supposed to have a conversation about it, which usually goes something like this:Shad (my manager): "So, what do you taste?"
Me: "Uh... coffee."
Just to let you know, that is the wrong answer. I'm supposed to say something like, "Well, it tastes earthy with a hint of spices as it hits the back of my tongue, noting it's origin in the Asia/Pacific region." Maybe we'll get there.

Customers always prove to be an interesting experience as well. Yesterday I worked on the register the entire shift, which included translating orders ("Yes, I'd like a triple decaf iced grande soy 2 pumps sugar free vanilla latte with whip") into two letter abbreviations on cups and trying to ring it up in a decent amount of time. This one customer, a 5'6", 300 pound Samoan man in a purple shirt approached the counter and wanted a grande (that's a medium for us who speak English and not Starbucks) coffee. Easy beans. Check.

Awkward pause.
"Could I get another one?"
"Sure! You're total is $3.28"
He handed me the money and stared at me strangley. I handed him the change and gave him a polite smile. "Thank you", I said, which was nice for, "Okay, we're done."
"You have nice ice", he said.
Excuse me, what? I have nice ICE?? What is that supposed to mean?! Since I lack tact, that was pretty much the reaction I gave him.
"What?"
"You have nice eyes."

Oh. Heaven. Help. Me.

Once again, since I lack tact, I have absolutely no idea what to say to that besides, "Wow, I can't wait to tell Steven this," or "Uh, thanks, that's, uh, a nice large purple shirt?"
Heaven, in fact, did help me, so I said a quick "Thanks" and went somewhere other then in his line of sight. And on a side note, when I told Steven this, he told me to essentially "milk that for all it was worth- you could get good tips from that." Gee, thanks for the moral support, honey.

Before we get deep, let me call a half-time with this, since I'm SUPER excited for the start of football season:

P.S. According to Wikipedia, Mike Tomlin attends a CMA church in  Squirrel Hill. Holler!!

On a different note, my co-workers are... you're typical 20-somethings. In short, their world is Starbucks, and outside of it, there are some other things that may or may not be as important, depending on what's happening with Starbucks that day. They are all friends, roommates, lover, or drinking buddies because of work. Most of them don't seem super-ambitious to find any other job, which I find strange. Their attitudes are generally poor and their language reflects it. Like in college, I feel like I'm about a million miles away from my peers. When they find out I'm 22 and married, their responses are as follows: "You're 22?! You look like you're 18! You're so young to be married! Do you have a kid?"
And, as in college, I find it very hard to explain myself to people who aren't even reading the same book I am, much less on the same page. Then, it was difficult to try and discuss: "No, I'm not career driven; Yes, I want to marry my boyfriend right after college; No, I've never had sex; Yes, I'm "religious" therefore I don't do drugs or drink to get drunk" to people whose main concern is how many weeknights they can get trashed and still graduate with a 3.0. Now, it's hard to explain: "Yes, I'm married young and get true joy out of serving my husband; No, I don't have a kid; No, I can't work Sunday mornings because I go to church; Yes, there is more to life then Starbucks and work in general."

Honestly, it's kind of heartbreaking. Once, I was getting lunch with Sarah Jones, and she was telling me that her first term in Berlin was character-building. And she said something that I'll never forget: "The thing that keeps me going is knowing that lost people matter to Jesus. And that makes me excited to go back for the second term."
Two things have been impressed upon my heart lately: 1) Lost people matter to Jesus, and 2) Colossians 3:23-24: "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you now that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." And I truly believe that if I live out that verse every single day, even if I don't feel like it or are feeling particularly sassy, then lost people will see Jesus. So even if I don't know what deep flavors are in a coffee or if I don't feel like working on a particularly challenging order with a difficult customer, if I live that verse, then the people around me, co-workers and customers included, will see the light of God through me.

And that's not to be taken lightly.

Englisch Camp

To be honest, I've been avoiding this entry because I'm finding it hard to explain what English Camp was like, much less trying to be accurate about the entire scenario. But, as Maria sang in "The Sound of Music", let's start at the very beginning, that's a very good place to start...

We (4 Jones', Jakob the translator, 4 State Collegians, and 6 "Crownies"- a groups from crown college) left Berlin on Saturday the 23rd and drove about 90 minutes to the tiny village of Karchow (which is in the state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, if you're curious). When I say tiny, I mean it consisted of one street that had the parsonage, old school house, little village church, a cemetery, thatched roof barn, and a few houses on one street. The parsonage was massive compared to all the parsonages I've seen in America, so that's primarily where camp took place. It was 3 floors and housed all 24 of the campers, the entire staff (minus the Jones' and I), 2 English classes, all meals, and a makeshift "office". The other English class, Etwas Mehr (literally "Something More", as in Chapel), and Don, Sarah, Dane, Jenna, and I stayed in the old school house.

As for a schedule, the campers arrived on Sunday and stayed until Saturday the 30th. There were 8 guys and 16 girls that were divided into 6 small groups for the spiritual side of camp and 4 teams for the competitive side of camp. Every morning, the camp would wake up for "Kickin' It Into Gear with Kari", which, loosely translated, means "get your team in order for stretched and a quick workout". Kari Lucas is one of the people from State College who just happens to be a personal trainer. Then it was breakfast, cleaning chores, small groups, English class #1, and lunch. I forget exactly what happened after lunch, but I know there were team competition #1, English class #2, team competition #2, free time, dinner, and free time. After that was Etwas Mehr, which was worship and a message, small groups, and then bed. I was a small group leader, co-leader of the green (affectionately known as the Green Smelly Nachos)/aqua team, and I got to hang out Dane and Jenna during the long English class.

Now this is where it gets tough: trying to describe German teenagers in general and then spiritually. First off, Europe is known to be much more fashionable than America. But in Germany, I use the term "fashionable" lightly. Let's just say that wearing socks with sandals is a common occurrence. There was some mocking of the American style, but quite honestly, take one look in the mirror and then make fun of what I'm wearing. In short, some of the teens at camp looked like they had just come off of the set of "Twilight". Also, there is very little respect of authority, to the point where it felt like pulling teeth when we asked/told them to do something. And spiritually, suffice it to say that there is a huge difference between the former East Germany and the former West Germany. At an American Christian camp, you would expect about 90% of the people to be Christians. Here, it was more like 33%, and those kids tended to be from the former West. This camp has a huge ministry in former East Germany, which brings a lot of opportunity and a lot of spiritual hardness with it.

The lack of respect and the spiritual hardness caused us, as a staff, to shuffle things around the entire week. I started out with 5 girls in my small group, and by Tuesday had 3. We started out with 4 teams, switched them on Tuesday, and then combined them on Thursday. There were 2 guys small groups, but by Tuesday they were one large group. It was definitely a tough, character-building week, but when it was time to compete (and everyone understood what was happening), it was fun. Germans have zero inhibitions about competition- there is always one winner and one loser, not like in America where "everyone is a winner!". We also got to go to the lake for an afternoon and relax (in between running away from the swarms of bees), have a movie night (which EVERYONE loved!), and the staff got to serve the campers dinner on the last night, which is always an awesome experience.

So awesome, in fact, that I leave you with this: Don Jones leading by example and washing the dishes after dinner.