When Gringas Play Soccer...

Buenas noches from Tegus! So just as a forewarning, I'm super hyped up on adrenaline right now, which will explain the excessive explanation marks to come.

It's day three in Honduras, and it finally feels official that I'm back! This year is a completely different experience in spite of the facts that I'm working with the same organization, that I'm here for the same amount of time, and that it's Honduras. I'm here with a group of students (plus two faculty members) from College of Charleston. We're working with the Alonzo Movement, and so far we've spent the majority of our time meeting with various program directors, playing soccer (badly), and awkwardly trying to connect with the youth that come to the program. We'd spent so much time in our class learning about the Honduran education system, the organization (LAMB), strategic planning, and other sometimes seemingly unconnected things. And we're finally here seeing how it all comes together.

Today has been indescribably awesome.
We spent the evening at the Alonzo Movement. The group of guys tonight were all around our age, which made us very apprehensive. It also made us all wear long pants instead of shorts. The man who directed tonight's group was fabulous, though. His name is Gabriel, and he runs the microfinance program that is part of LAMB. He might be the most dynamic person I've ever met! He got us gringas all warmed up for the evening by teaching us some basic soccer skills. That's right. We're awful at soccer. I know it's surprising. It made us more comfortable, and it also allowed the guys who arrived early to laugh at us a little. I overheard several comments about how bad the girl in the black sneakers and soccer jersey was. One guess who that was. (Hint hint: ME.) But once the program really got started for the evening, we integrated fairly well--singing songs, playing games, listening intently to a story about princes and princesses who learned to value other people.

Then it was time to play soccer. Gabriel arranged us into teams of two gringas and two Honduran guys. I was with a girl named Hannah, a guy named Hector, and a guy whose name he kept mumbling so Hannah and I nicknamed him Prince. They were great sports. We were obviously awful, but they continued to pass us the ball and let us pretend like we knew what we were doing. In a very awesome and probably God-sent moment, the goal my team was shooting on was wide open. The goalie just disappeared. And so I very timidly kicked the ball into the goal. AND SCORED. I scored a goal! High fives from Hector, Prince, and Hannah...and we were at it again. I think Hector scored a couple times, and then Hannah made an awesome headshot that didn't really do much. But then Hannah scored a goal! We were on fire. My head was throbbing and my heart felt swollen in my chest from running up and down the field, which is actually a paved court surrounded by a wire fence and situated on the top floor of the school. I was ready to quit, and I don't think I was seeing straight anymore. And in the single most awesome moment of my life, I leapt over one of the guys who had fallen down trying to defend me, dribbled the ball towards the goal, and took a shot on goal just as I collided with the youngest and smallest kid there. Yeahhh, I completely demolished that 8 year old. With no shame. But I scored another goal! And didn't even realize I had made a shot on goal. It was the best feeling. All the moment needed was a slow clap

On a more serious note, though, being somewhat competent at soccer, even if it was unintentional, ended up being very beneficial for the work we are trying to do in Flor del Campo, the neighborhood where LAMB and the Alonzo Movement are based. It  allowed me to chat with the guys on my team. Hector was especially candid. I found out that he's 17 years old and is going to the public university in Tegus. He talked with Hannah and me about our studies and we got to hear a little about his life. It was great! (especially when he raised his eyebrows and asked us if we were on Facebook. Ha.) He was this very good looking guy, clean and seemingly well put together as most Hondurans are, athletic, and probably very smart. How can he be an at-risk youth? It just doesn't seem possible! But the fact that we were in the context of a 100% safe place and that he was allowed the uninterrupted play of a regular teenage boy changes things. I wish I could be a fly on his shoulder as he lives his day to day life just to see what he's like in the company of other people and other situations. Maybe I'm biased because he was such an awesome teammate (we definitely won the mini-tourney), but his seemed like a success story of the Alonzo Movement and of the power of youth in Flor del Campo.

On that note, we spent this morning at LAMB's school in Flor. The children have a devotional every Wednesday, and we had the honor of attending. It was predictable at first--complete with goofy songs and motions, a Bible lesson, and a little skit. But then, the children learned a new song. The song asked God for peace in Flor del Campo and for forgiveness for the sins of the city. Please imagine for just a moment about 180 children in quaint school uniforms lifting their voices out over their city, which is known for violence and gangs, and standing up for themselves. It was beautiful in a painful way. Their principal spoke after their song, delivering the single most powerful pep talk I've ever heard. She told them that there could be peace in Flor if they would pray to God for it collectively. She was direct and explicit, saying that she knows what happens in Flor--fathers hitting mothers, children being abused, people being shot or robbed in the streets. She said that if they joined together in one voice that it could all end because theirs is the one voice that God cannot resist. She reminded the children of the story of Jesus telling the disciples to let the little children come to him and how they are el reino del cielo (the kingdom of heaven). There was so much power and hope in that moment. I saw the vision that the LAMB staff must see: peace in what once was one of the most dangerous colonias in Honduras because of the difference the children at the school and the youth in the Alonzo Movement can make in their community. It was chilling. The children's faces reacted when what she said hit home. I wondered all day how there could be hope there, how the children could even believe her, how boys like Hector could thrive in the crazy educational system to such an extent that he is now in college, how any place in that gang-filled place could be so safe.

I think the only reasonable answer is that God is there.

The Awkward Blogpost

Something inside of me has been rebelling against the word "awkward" for a while now. It's so much a part of my generation. Every encounter is ranked on a scale of 1 to 100: how awkward was it?

Eating dry cereal for breakfast: 12
Walking down a long hallway toward someone you know and having to decide when to say hello and where to look the whole time: 46
Getting a Facebook message from someone who likes you a whole lot more than you like them: 78
Accidentally starting to pray at the same time as someone else during popcorn prayer: 107!

I propose that the only reason we interpret all of life's events as awkward or not awkward is because of the existence and popularity of the word "awkward" itself. Really, it's an awkward situation. Back when I was a small child (to clarify...that could mean 6 or 9 or 15), the word wasn't popular. There wasn't much concept of awkwardness. Things were weird. Things were different. Things were uncomfortable. I didn't know what to do with my hands. Life was less awkward for me because I didn't know what awkwardness was. I didn't understand that one day I would see a Citadel cadet running down Calhoun St. in the center of April at 1:16 in the afternoon wearing a beanie and comment on how awkward it was.

We create awkwardness in ourselves and in our society by having and using the word. Suddenly, any feeling that isn't complete happiness is translated into awkwardness. Even the idea of awkwardness is awkward. Awkwardness is taking over the American culture. Everyone loves Zooey Deschanel. Quirky is the new normal. Awkward is the new everything.

I think more people get drunk and get more drunk now because of the word. It's a reason to drink: I feel awkward around lots of people. I feel awkward dancing. I feel awkward when I'm not drinking and the people around me are. The drunk people around me are awkward and it makes me feel more awkward. The solution: Drink away the awkwardness. I don't know about this. I don't drink. I just think about alcohol and awkwardness. What a pair they must be!

I don't like when my hands smell like food. It's distracting. I try to accomplish things, but I smell onions and remember the pizza I had for lunch and don't accomplish anything.

I tried to replace the word "awkward" with "stupid," but it was an awkward/stupid idea. It didn't mean anything. It was like using "laughing my feathery armpits off" instead of its less polite counterpart. Essentially, you mean the same thing, but for some reason--morality concerns, nearness of children, speech impediment or hearing impairment--you just replaced the "bad" words with "better" ones. It doesn't change the concept. Instead of saying "I laughed so hard it was awkward," I tried to say "I laughed so hard it was stupid." Nothing. No difference. Apples and oranges.

Mr. Tony of "PTI" and "The Tony Kornheiser Show" likes to say, "The kids have a word for that these days: awkward!" He also likes to do the penguin dance.

Someone somewhere decided to call this postmodernism. It's really just awareness of the language I'm using and how it shapes my thoughts and perceptions. But that's not official enough to teach an entire Western Civ lecture about so they call it "postmodernism." I like things that are meta and postmodern...like "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" and "The Office." I like when things think about themselves, what they're doing, why they're doing it, and then make fun of themselves. I wish the word "awkward" were more aware of itself. I wish mini microwaves existed named "Hitler." I like that I can use quotes and throw everything's "meaning" into "question." It feels like power.

Maybe technology makes us awkward. We text and message and chat...via technology. And so we're hyper-aware of ourselves when we experience real, face-to-face interactions with other humans. Suddenly, without the assistance of emoticons and "lolz," we don't know where to put our smile or our arms and it's awkward. But technology can only make us awkward because the word "awkward" exists and allows us to understand the concept of awkwardness.

The elevator in my building got angry and then tried to take me to the fourth dimension today. It was awkward.
Autocorrect on my iPad changed "wuwei" to "Susie" in my Religions of China and Japan term paper and it was awkward.
I listened to song by Jude Moses called "Mistaken Hands" and thought he was singing: "I'll make you sufferrr. I'll make you die." He was actually singing, "I'm make you supper. I'll serve you wine." It was awkward.



I wrote a blogpost about awkwardness and how much the word affects our lives and it was awkward.

I feel like the Knights Who Say Ni...because I can't stop saying the word "awkward." Ah! I said that awkward word again! Ah! It's so awkward that I can't stop saying it! Now I feel even more awkward! Ah!!!

I fear that if we stop the word now, we will lose ourselves. What will happen to our skepticism and cynicism? What will happen to self-awareness and these feelings inside of us that alert to awkward moments? Remember awkward turtle? I liked to make up random awkward animals when I was in high school. I felt cool when I did it. I wasn't. I was just another teenager with braces, lame jokes, and "original" ideas, the very definition of "awkward." Henceforth, you can just call me "Awkward posterchild."


Coming soon: The Hipster Blogpost
A look at the word "hipster" and an explanation for why they burn their tongues all the time.

(Not really...I just wanted to make you feel awkward about another popular word/cultural phenomenon. You're welcome.)