Live from lovely Roscoe Village in Chicago, I bring
you…well, me.
And I’m not even sure if I’m really technically located in
Roscoe, but more on that later.
Finally, after a year of essays and applications and nagging
various wonderful people in my life for recommendations and donations, I can
officially call myself a Jesuit Volunteer. More specifically, I can call myself
a Jesuit Volunteer of the Chicago-Bernardin Community. In reality, I just call
myself a JV.
Or Kristen. I’ve been known to go by that too.
Oddly enough, moving into a strange apartment in a new city
with four other [wonderful, marvelous, beautiful, intelligent, socially
conscious, etc. *] girls I only kind of know was a relief after the last week I
had. Before any JV can go save the world, they have to be orientated. So early
Sunday (Aug. 4), I shipped out of LGA on a flight that would end up in
Morgantown, Indiana. After four years of flying from St. Louis to New York, I
had evidently racked up enough miles to travel to orientation in first class.
The irony of beginning my year of simple living in first
class is not lost on me. But I got a free bowl of oatmeal out of it, so I won’t
judge myself too harshly.
Once I landed in Indianapolis International Airport, I found
myself with some time to kill. The JV staffers had sent those flying to Indiana
an email stating we wouldn’t get picked up until about 3 p.m. that day, so I
settled down with my suitcase and sleeping bag in some isolated corner of the
terminal and prepared myself to sit quietly until it was time to go.
Almost immediately, a girl came up to me and excitedly asked
if I was a JV. Startled, I didn’t have a chance to come up with a compelling
lie, so I truthfully acknowledged that I was.
“Great! There’s a bunch of us sitting over there!”
Moments later, I was in the midst of a group of about thirty
20-somethings, all equipped with pillows and backpacks. I shook everyone’s
hand, but remembered no one’s name. Off to a good start, I felt.
At three o’clock, we all were introduced to a JV staffer by
the name of Maggie. Maggie directed the lot of us to a big old bus and we were
off to our retreat site.
I was genuinely impressed with how far out in the middle of
nowhere this place was. I know I tend to be judgey of any location where one
has to drive more than ten minutes to find a grocery store, but my judgment was
more than justified in the case of Waycross retreat center. As we trekked further and further away
from civilization and most human contact, I found myself wondering A.) Who in
their right mind comes out here? And B.) Who was the crazy person who came out
here and was like, “This would be a stellar place to build some cabins and a
church!”
I think I was
probably just salty that there was zero cell service. Not that that ended up
mattering in the slightest, because one of the first things that happened when
we got off the bus was that the JV staff took our cell phones.
Boo. [Author’s note: Being cell phone free allows one to be
present to themselves and others while on retreat. It’s actually a good place
to be and I get that. But I also wanted to be able to check the weather
periodically and tweet the stupid things I think.]
To provide a detailed explanation of everything that
happened at orientation would require a better attention span than the one I
have been blessed with, so get excited for some cliff notes:
-I’m covered in
mosquito bites.
- Eating vegetarian for a week was awesome. Being served
fish sticks in a pita pocket, however, is confusing for both carnivores and veggies
alike.
-I am bad at both following directions and dancing in a way
that doesn’t make me look like the world’s biggest spazz. Contra dancing
involves both of these things. It was awesome regardless.
- I’m that kid that loses her folder with all the incredibly
important orientation papers on the very first day of retreat. I’m also that
kid who finds her folder in her backpack (where she put it on the first day of
retreat) two days later and has to sheepishly tell everyone they can stop
looking for it.
-JVC is convinced my name is Kristin. Fortunately, that is
how my name is pronounced, so there was minimal confusion.
-There is no issue in the House of Representatives, United
States Senate, SCOTUS or the United Nations that is as difficult to solve as
trying to pick the kind of milk that your community will buy.
- The four values of JVC are Spirituality, Simple Living,
Community and Social Justice. When you draw these out as symbols, they become
Fish, Bread, House, Bird. So if anyone asks, FishBreadHouseBird is the core of
JVC.^
-Being “intentional” about literally everything you do is
crucial. I’m intentionally blogging right this second. I’m already really good
at being a JV, therefore.
-Just because the coffee is free does not mean it is
socially acceptable to drink seven cups before noon.
-This year is going to be stellar.
I think that sums up my last week quite nicely. But in
truth, Orientation was a great way to ease into what this next year is going to
be. I actually need the chance to focus my attention on the months ahead, and
the time at Waycross allowed me to do that. On the off chance that anyone who
orchestrated that retreat reads this blog, I want to say thanks for the
wonderful time.
But now I’m in the apartment I’ll be residing in for the
next twelve months. It’s pretty excellent. A little dirty and a little
cluttered from the years of JV’s before us, but it’s also giant and super
comfy. I was pretty nervous JVC would place me in a cardboard box down by the
Chicago River, so this place is definitely a vastly better option.
The only thing that bugs me is the basement where we do our
laundry. It reminds me vaguely of the basement from The Conjuring, so if I
neglect to update this blog in the next week or so, just assume I got offed by
a demonic witch ghost and know that I probably considered you to be a dear
friend.
In the coming days, we’ll be touring and learning cool
things about Chicago. The area I’m in now is actually pretty nice and
residential. Google maps tells me that I live in Roscoe Village, but we were
warned that this is a point of debate. Still being green in the ways of Chicago
neighborhoods, I’m sure I’ll eventually come to understand why this is such a
point of contention, but for now I think it will suffice to say that I kind of
live in Roscoe.
I start work at the Elam Davies Social Service Center on
Wednesday. I’m pretty pumped and certainly unsure of what to expect. So that’ll
be something to look forward to if you follow this blog.
Here’s the link to my Send Me to Serve page. JVC is still
taking donations (hint hint, wink wink), but it’ll also be a good introduction
as to my motivations for becoming a JV and a bit about my placement, assuming
you aren’t an expert on the subject of me already:
That’s all for now. Thanks for taking an interest in my
adventures. Leave a comment or something.
I’ve never been much of a blogger, so I don’t know how to
end this post…
AMDG?
How bout just bye. Okay, bye.
*Just in case any of
my housemates decide to read my blog. Hey ladies J.**
**The ladies I live with are truly all those adjectives,
though. I promise I’m not just trying to get on their good side.***
***Though if this gets me on their good side, I’m not going
to complain J.
^Credit for FishBreadHouseBird as a phrase goes to the
marvelous Anna Bninski
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