east west

live fire

This happens each year. The days become longer and we lose track of time and end up going to bed way too late, and therefore miss the alarm in the morning and start the day in a frantic rush to get to work on time. But somehow - the sunshine makes it all okay. It makes me remember that there's more to life than work (which ebbs and flows in its threat to take over all of my spare time. Likewise does my commitment to work/life balance). But I'm seeing that I need to make an effort to be sure that my employment does not define me. Therefore....

We went camping last weekend - to a secret area high up on the Washougal River in Southwest Washington. We found this place several years ago after Peter bribed a few Americorps volunteers with bags of free produce. The Northwest never disappoints, and it always has a fair share of adventures to throw our way. After a peaceful night, when we'd slowly woken up and just started in on breakfast - when the sun was starting to break through and we thought we were completely secluded - gunfire started to ring out. Figuring it was just a few guys out for a good time and some target practice, we ignored it....but after a while, the shots came closer to our camp and started hitting the trees around us. We started to yell - and at one point, had to dive behind a log before they stopped shooting. That's really the end of the story - the shooting stopped, and we all made it back to Portland in one piece. It wasn't all that dramatic, to be honest - but we did jump behind a log to avoid being shot.

Related to this, I've started to teach English again. Drove out to Gresham on Wednesday, expecting to be teaching a gentle 60-year old Iraqi woman. Instead, I was received by two 30-year old Iraqi men and an absolutely charming ten year old boy. They were so eager to learn, and wanted to know when they would be fluent....it's such a responsibility to feel that I have to provide them with the information they need in order to function here in Portland. And I wonder - why did they choose to come here, of all places? To the very country that forced them to leave Baghdad? Beyond the language portion, I also feel this obligation to apologize for everything that America has done to them - and to their home. To compensate for what my country has destroyed, I feel like I need to give them the best shot at life here as possible. I don't feel like this is necessarily bad - but it's a hell of a responsibility to give oneself.

I remember this one day very specifically - it was in mid-March of 2003, and Bush was making one of his initial speeches on the shock and awe portion of the Iraq invasion. Because this was a fairly important speech, there were several students in the lower level of the student center at my college gathered around the television. After Bush finished stating that Hussein had 48 hours to give himself up or America would begin the bombing campaign (which incidentally would occur on my 22nd birthday), the entire area erupted into cheers. Yes. What was this? Why were they cheering the destruction of a city, a country? And these were Christian college students, nonetheless. I don't understand the connection between conservatism and war.

posted by jessica @ 3:28 PM