J TERM at Spring Arbor, Part III

Monday came around quickly, and I had told Lulu that Trevor and I would make her and Alyssa dinner at 6:00. At 5:30, Trevor was in the common area working on a project with a classmate and I was setting up in the kitchen. Alyssa came in and handed me a batch of their homemade tofu-like wheat substance called "seitan."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

"Maybe just finish cutting up the orange pepper," I replied as I tossed the seitan into one frying pan and our chicken into the other.

"So I guess I know basically nothing about you," Alyssa said by way of opening up a conversation. "Like, what your major is or anything."

"Yeah, haha. Oh, right. Well my major is actually Spanish," I responded, afraid that she might know it and start speaking it.

"Oh, that was originally my minor," she said. Shoot.

"What did you change to?"

"English writing and education," she said. "It's not really what I want to do. But it'll get me through college. Are you going to study abroad soon? I'm doing the Guatemala semester next fall."

"Oh man! I almost did that one but I was too late!"

Alyssa finished with the peppers and turned to make eye contact. I wished that I didn't have to look up to make eye contact with so many girls.

"Darn! I wish you were on it.. because.. there aren't many guys in the group. Are you going to go in the spring then?"

"Well, I don't know. I actually need to find out..well.. how much is it?"

"It's only $2,000 on top of regular costs."

"Yeah.. but I mean, do those costs include the cost of housing and the meal plan? Cause that would actually end up being a lot more money that I thought." With a little pride I added, "I actually pay month by month, so I'd have to save up for that."

"How do you do that?! Do you have a regular job.. or.. what?"

"Well, I mean I admit I don't have nearly as much expense as most people." I usually don't like to brag about scholarship offers, but I also hate steering entirely clear and saying that I get to go to school for free because my mom works at Hillsdale College. So I explained both that I was offered full rides to several colleges due to my PSAT scores, but choose to attend Butler first, then transferred to Spring Arbor through the an exchange program.

"Why didn't you like Butler?"

"Well.. it was just a very secular school. I mean, that's not so bad, but just overall a lot of little things really got on my nerves. Like people smoking right outside my dorm window all the time. And everyone just wanting to party every weekend. I mean, I shouldn't say everyone; there were a lot of good people there and good aspects to the college, but it's just hard to jump in and I felt like it was even harder when only 10% of people were really onboard with the type of lifestyle I was looking for."

"Oh, yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Do you like Spring Arbor? I mean, of course you're not going to like any place perfectly." She thought for a minute and changed the question altogether. "What don't you like here?"

I decided for once to just jump right in and be totally transparent. Usually I tone down my opinions because so many people just seem to be confused or critical.

"I guess, I just don't like the whole college thing in general."

"Why not?"

"Well, I've always just.. been rather adventurous and I don't see myself ever doing anything with my life that will actually require a diploma. Like right now - I'm paying for all of my college expenses by myself, and everything in my life has always worked out like that. I just like to travel and live simply and the way I want to, and not be stuck at college."

"Oh, well of course, I just want to travel and help people… and stuff, with my life," she offered.

Lulu and Trevor arrived in the kitchen. "Oh my, this looks amazing!" exclaimed Lulu.

I laughed, looking at the vegetarian creation simmering in a preliminary saute of soy sauce, brown sugar, and various spices. I decided to steer the conversation further down the road less travelled. "Reminds me of the time Trevor and I were in Canada and someone we stayed with cooked us a delicious vegetarian stir fry."

"You guys were just in Canada… like.. hanging out?" asked Alyssa.

"Yeah," said Trevor. "You know, just staying at random people's houses--" he began as I wondered if I should explain the concept of couchsurfing in more concrete terms.

"Do you couchsurf?!" exclaimed Lulu, breaking out of her quiet character.

"Oh my word!" I responded with a good deal of surprise. "You guys have heard of that? Have you couchsurfed??"

Lulu and Alyssa explained that they had couchsurfed in Toronto with a group of ten, and somewhere else with a host who had had as many as thirty people at his place at once. The conversation continued enthusiastically as the food bubbled into two fantastically aromatic dishes that we dished generously for ourselves.

At Alyssa's invitation I offered a prayer of thanks for food and fellowship, then we continued talking of adventures. "That reminds me," I said at one point, "of the time Tyler and I were hitchhiking in Canada--"

"What, you hitchhike too?!" interjected Alyssa.

"No way.. you've hitchhiked?"

"No, you just… do everything. You know what? I know of something you should really invest in. A --"

"a Hammock."

"hamm-- HOW DID YOU KNOW?!"

This was turning into a spectacularly fun conversation. I grinned widely. "You don't think I've thought of this already??"

"Well, you should think about getting one. Tell me more stories about hitchhiking."

I continued.

"Did you ever have to wait a long time?"

"Oh, yes." I said. "Definitely."

"Well, then you need one of these along with you," she suggested, waving her finger between herself and Lulu.

"Haha -- a girl?"

"A girl and a guy is the best combination for hitchhiking."

"You've researched this."

"Um.. yeah, well no offense, Lulu, but I'd rather go with a guy."

"Yes, definitely" I said. "I couldn't possibly recommend any girl to go hitchhiking. It is something to think seriously about. I don't know what the proper combination of faith and caution is."

"Oh, well I just always throw caution to the wind and it always works out fine!"

"Oh, of course! That's what I do; I just can't feel good about advocating it to other people."

"Alright. Well let me explain why we should go hitchhiking." She expounded upon the importance of doing so.

"I am trying to figure out what I want to do this summer," I mused. "But what I was really wanting to do was go down to Mexico or Central America."

Alyssa dealt me a forceful blow to the shoulder. "SHUT UP!"

I recovered with a grin.

"Would you hitchhike down there?" she asked.

"I don't know about that, considering that I've never been down there before. And busses are really cheap."

"And you could take an American bus to... a border town or something."

"Brownsville, Texas."

"No way! How do you know these things??"

"Same as you -- Google."

When we finally parted ways with the agreement that Trevor and I would meet them the next day for their turn at making dinner, everyone seemed to have been filled with more than just good food. I thought back three days previous, when I wondered how the heck one goes about meeting like-minded people. It's funny how these things work out.

an ode to high school

So I've been afflicted by a moderate case of melancholy.
It started to show up when I sat down to email my old band teacher Mr. Rushing about some recommendation letters I asked him to write for me. But then I took a moment to be sincere with him. I haven't done that kind of thing in a while, so I was a bit out of practice; I think that may have played a part in triggering the melancholy. I've been a bit out of touch with people. My comfort zone is becoming much more comfortable - yet also much smaller. Back in high school, situations used to arise that called either for sincerity or total withdrawal from normal social interaction. I've never been the most social person, but I never wanted to miss out on what life has to offer, so I practiced sincerity. When a friendship became borderline "something more," sincerity. In order to have a more enjoyable lunch-time experience, I could spend it with Larry and Aaron discussing things close to our hearts - namely writing, poetry and art. Those were some great times - and the key was sincerity. It seems like going beyond your comfort level in the short run usually results in a more fulfilled life in the long run.
I got a lot of practice with sincerity my junior and senior years in high school. But lately, I've been out of practice. You might notice that I'm being pretty sincere right now - but it is a lot different when you are addressing a single person. As I'd imagine is true for most people, I find it very easy to pour my heart out onto a computer screen with the vague knowledge that someone on the other end might be reading my writing at some unknown point in time. But since leaving high school, and even, to my surprise, since taking a gap year from college, I've found myself deficient in interaction with people. Oh yes - I am doing a lot. I'm doing a ton of things that are really ME. Playing sax for a couple hours a day, playing guitar for a couple hours a day, reading a novel in Spanish, even making my own website that I'm beginning to feel rather proud of, though it still needs lots of work (tourofpoverty09.org). Yet all these things don't seem to amount to very much in the human experience when they are lacking that ingredient of unexpected, spontaneous, and sometimes even uncomfortable interaction with other people of all sorts.
Yes, my life is very comfortable. I know exactly what I'm going to do every weekend (visit my best friends at Spring Arbor University), and I know that I am going to greatly enjoy it. I know what I am going to do each day - and the things I do are going to be the things I enjoy most in life -- at least if they aren't, I have no one to blame except myself, since I have devoted this year to staying at home and accomplishing and doing those things which hold the greatest importance to me.

But let's get back to the melancholy I was experiencing. It started off with my sincerity towards my band teacher - about how much band had meant to me. Because once I got writing and thinking about it, I couldn't even imagine what my life might have been had my father not convinced me to join band back in the 6th grade, and if I hadn't had such a great band teacher. Half of my high school experience - no, perhaps much more - could be defined by things that came about entirely because of my role in the band and it's role in my life. Some of the best moments of my life, the experience of being truly looked up to, my best relationships, the indescribable feeling that sums up the dozens of fall nights spent at the football field or away games; that incredible feeling that results when the mind tries to remember the highest highs and lowest lows as if they occurred in a single moment... the infamous and always amazing band trips.. before even coming to my love of playing music.
All these moments.. all of them shared. Not a single memory stands on its own unless it was shared with someone. I think I've figured out what they say about that. It's not actually that you remember it longer because they also remember it and can remind you. You just remember it longer.
I look at high school and see -- high school was when you just went to school and life happened to you. You didn't have to build your own path up in front of yourself. The path was already constructed, and you could decorate it, or you could stray from it, but even if you strayed from it you could return to it, and even if you decided not to decorate it too much it was still somewhat interesting as it was. I strayed from it ... I found other paths.. I spent all my time in another town developing different relationships with different people than those who were set there for me by virtue of what school system I attended. Then some things happened, the other path I was blazing turned rough, and I came back to the path set up for me at Hillsdale High School. It didn't seem like much at the time - but at least it was there for me to return to. Not anymore. Meanwhile, back in my senior year of high school, I returned to high school from a crazy summer, not feeling like decorating my path at all. I just wanted to walk the remaining portion and be done with it. But then all these beautiful things kept happening to me. It's crazy. In high school all you have to do is go to school and life happens to you. I know "life" is not always a good thing. But unless you are literally starving or caught in the middle of a war or something (which it should be acknowledged many people in the world are), there is always good in life, and probably more than there might seem on first glance.
Now, though, my melancholy is initiated by an email to my old band teacher. It's deepened when I look at my shelves and see a gift I was given by a classmate during my senior year. Because I'm doing so many meaningful things right now - but they seem to mean very little when they are not being shared with anyone.
I mean, I share it with my best friends. And it's true - I am blessed to have a few truly good friends rather than a multitude of acquaintances. And not that anyone could replace the incredible friends I have right now. But I think that the human spirit is always seeking something more than what it already knows. And not an incremental increase, like "today I know 18 more Spanish words than yesterday" or "I am a little bit better of a musician." Those things are good. But there comes a point when the only thing that is truly new is a new person, or a new experience with an old person. Hanging out at a college and already knowing what you are going to talk about doesn't do it. We've gotta be making progress in our lives, or no matter how good they are they don't feel good. I took a year off to make progress in things that were important to me - music, Spanish, fighting poverty. But I kinda missed the human factor in all of that. You see, before I took a year off college, I thought that what I missed about high school were all the things I did in my spare time. I inexplicably had a massive amount of spare time in high school; probably explained by the fact that I never did homework at home. So I managed to find time to practice and become relatively good at tennis, art, guitar, saxophone, photography, writing, driving just because I could, and a hundred and one other things that I used to do - and enjoy - because of all that spare time I had to fill. I thought I missed doing all those things - and all those things were extremely enjoyable and even worthwhile on their own. But what I really missed was being able to fill all of my time outside of school with all of those things - yet still have life happen to me anyways. All of those things have a meaning when they come in addition to life, not as a substitute. They form an amazing addition and make an already good life better, but they can't make an already good life. It's time to give up the substitutes and give up the comfort and go reinvent that already good life... as well as just getting out there and letting it happen to me.

Wow. I never meant to pull a conclusion from this bit of writing, but I guess I just did. Hold me to it, please.

This is a really long rambling note and I didn't express some things I intended to express, and I expressed many that I had not intended to express. So if you read it know that, and I am going to arbitrarily end it now cause I don't have any direction to go with it. I'd say that in the whole thing there are maybe 3 or 4 sentences that I actually like. But if you read it, please feel free to let me know what your thoughts on those subjects are.