This fall, when I go back to school I will be taking part in a program known as Project Neighborhood. I will be living in Nizhoni, a house which will have four other students and a mentor couple. As part of the informational/introductory e-mail that I received today , there was a link to Dr. Wayne L. Gordon's "The Eight Components of Christian Community Development." His description of how Christians should engage community describes many of the things that The Boston Project is, many of the things that Project Neighborhood strives to be, some of the things that Fair Food is (Dignity of the Dollar), and really sums up many of the thoughts I have had this summer.
It is longer than one of my typical posts, but if you have a few minutes, I really recommend that you read through it.
http://www.ccda.org/philosophy
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
"Road Closed"
I wake up each morning never knowing quite what I'll end up doing for the day. Today I helped Tacia make bags in the morning. The volunteers from the Boston Project arrived at ten, and the only food that needed to be processed was four boxes of potatoes to bag. Knowing that the potato bagging would take less than ten minutes with so much help, I was wondering what I would have them do next. Just as they were finishing, Nancy gave me a ring on my cell, and told me to take the volunteers outside.
A uniform company inhabits the space next to us in our warehouse. They currently have a 30 foot dumpster in the parking lot that they have been in the process of filling this week. Whenever the uniform company's customers change uniforms, or go out of business, or change uniform providers, the uniform company is left with extra uniforms. The majority of these uniforms are long or short sleeve button down shirts with a name and company patch on them.
Nancy had me get some boxes, and have the volunteers begin sorting, folding and boxing the clothing. Some of it we have already given away around the neighborhood, and we have 30 big boxes left at the warehouse today. If we have time we will collect more of them tomorrow.
While we were working, one of the ladies at the uniform company told us that they have more uniforms inside the warehouse that they could give to us if we come back on Monday or Tuesday. That way we could save a step!
In other news, you may remember that the road in front of our warehouse had been torn up a few weeks after I got here. Two weeks ago they finally decided to repave half of the road. Then, last week they decided to tear up the half that they had paved the week before. Today they were working on the road again, and I believe theoretically they should do the whole thing this time. We'll see...
A uniform company inhabits the space next to us in our warehouse. They currently have a 30 foot dumpster in the parking lot that they have been in the process of filling this week. Whenever the uniform company's customers change uniforms, or go out of business, or change uniform providers, the uniform company is left with extra uniforms. The majority of these uniforms are long or short sleeve button down shirts with a name and company patch on them.
Nancy had me get some boxes, and have the volunteers begin sorting, folding and boxing the clothing. Some of it we have already given away around the neighborhood, and we have 30 big boxes left at the warehouse today. If we have time we will collect more of them tomorrow.
While we were working, one of the ladies at the uniform company told us that they have more uniforms inside the warehouse that they could give to us if we come back on Monday or Tuesday. That way we could save a step!
In other news, you may remember that the road in front of our warehouse had been torn up a few weeks after I got here. Two weeks ago they finally decided to repave half of the road. Then, last week they decided to tear up the half that they had paved the week before. Today they were working on the road again, and I believe theoretically they should do the whole thing this time. We'll see...
Monday, August 9, 2010
"I'm Stahving"
Sunday
Today I went on a crazy bicycle adventure. I had many stops along the way. This is just a record of my adventure, nothing too deep or thought-provoking.
I left around 10 in the morning, and my first stop was church. After failing to convince anyone to accompany to my next destination, I took off riding solo. From the church I headed for the South Boston WWII Memorial. I just tried to head east, knowing that I would have to hit the water. Eventually I found my way to the Harbor Walk and began riding North (http://bostonharborwalk.com/placestogo/). I came to the memorial where I had been with my parents and distant cousins last week. The name Thomas J. Lyons, that of my great-grandfather, appears on the memorial. It is from him that I received the 't' in jth5 (my college username). From the memorial I ran along the Head Island Causeway to Fort Independence. I showed up just in time for the 1:00 tour. It's an amazing old pentagonal fort, and the eighth fort to be built in that location. It has sheer granite walls rising up 30 feet on all sides, and the walls are nearly six feet thick. They have 50,000 pound guns which were crewed by 14 men, and could hit a target three and a half miles away. After the tour I ran back around the causeway, ate my lunch (leftover salad and some corn tamales that Miss Susie made with the corn we gave her), and watched six or seven kite-boarders. The extreme sport of kite-boarding has always seemed like one that I would like to try. The riders strap on a board, attach a harness, hook their harness to a giant kite, then go out over the water to catch huge air. When the wind-dancing was over, I hopped back on my bike.
I followed the Harbor Walk as much as possible, which meant that I rode in and out quite a bit along the water's edge. The sea breeze certainly made for pleasant riding.
I stopped by The Seafarer's Mission, one of the sites that My team from Calvin College helped out at when we were here in the Spring. The Mission was closed, as was most of the harbor, but it was nice to revisit the spot again.
I revisited The Barking Crab, a restaurant that we ate at in the spring.
I found where the city of Boston stores their extra recycling bins.
Upon hearing music, I turned aside to hear what it was. The Sons of Italy Drum and Bugle Corps were out in full force, putting on a parade through the streets. I followed along with them for about a block before heading off.
I ran across a kind of street preformer that I have heard described before, but never seen in person. I saw what at first glance seemed to be an entirely bronze statue statue. However, the cloak blowing in the wind quickly dissolved that illusion. With no wind the main clue to the statue's live nature would have been the slowly filling vase of money sitting before the black pedestal upon which she stood. I turned aside and watched the woman for a while to see if she would move under any conditions. Several parents walked by with children, and I thought she might interact with them, but alas she remained in character, as stationary as a guard at Buckingham Palace. I was about to leave when a gentleman put some money in the vase. To this she curtseyed, blew a kiss from her bronze hand, and assumed a slighly different pose.
I saw the underside of the beautiful Leonard Zakim Bunker Hill Memorial Bridge (which we drive across every time we go to the market) (http://lh5.ggpht.com/_l_iB-toQBZY/RuGegln1OEI/AAAAAAAAAOg/I75bHwOPJL4/s512/SA704671.JPG).
I saw functioning boat locks in person for the first time.
I revisited the USS Constitution where I had been last week with my parents. This time I visited the museum, rather than touring the boat. The display that I thought was most interesting was an interactive one. There is a yard (round horizontal wooden beam which supports a sail) that one can shimmy out on, with a footrope beneath it to stand upon. The whole thing is suspended such that it can swing a little (though it hangs only just off the ground as to not be too dangerous). Upon reaching the far end, one can draw up the sail and tie it off. I enjoyed getting to feel a little bit what it was like to be a sailor in those days.
I saw an official Bocce court for the first time. I guess people who come to the public courts to play must be serious about their Boccee, because in the one round that I watched, the fellow who threw the palino was able to get two of his balls to come to rest touching it.
I heard a legit Boston accent.
I saw seals at the aquarium.
I came across a drinking fountain that arced the water three times as far as it should.
I asked for directions from a lady who only spoke Spanish.
I had an Italian sub for dinner from a shop in Somerville.
I returned home around 9:15.
Approximate Route: (note, my odometer needs a new battery, but with all the ins and outs I made along the harbor walk, I probably went closer to 50 or 60 miles)
http://tinyurl.com/jimsbostontrek
Today I went on a crazy bicycle adventure. I had many stops along the way. This is just a record of my adventure, nothing too deep or thought-provoking.
I left around 10 in the morning, and my first stop was church. After failing to convince anyone to accompany to my next destination, I took off riding solo. From the church I headed for the South Boston WWII Memorial. I just tried to head east, knowing that I would have to hit the water. Eventually I found my way to the Harbor Walk and began riding North (http://bostonharborwalk.com/placestogo/). I came to the memorial where I had been with my parents and distant cousins last week. The name Thomas J. Lyons, that of my great-grandfather, appears on the memorial. It is from him that I received the 't' in jth5 (my college username). From the memorial I ran along the Head Island Causeway to Fort Independence. I showed up just in time for the 1:00 tour. It's an amazing old pentagonal fort, and the eighth fort to be built in that location. It has sheer granite walls rising up 30 feet on all sides, and the walls are nearly six feet thick. They have 50,000 pound guns which were crewed by 14 men, and could hit a target three and a half miles away. After the tour I ran back around the causeway, ate my lunch (leftover salad and some corn tamales that Miss Susie made with the corn we gave her), and watched six or seven kite-boarders. The extreme sport of kite-boarding has always seemed like one that I would like to try. The riders strap on a board, attach a harness, hook their harness to a giant kite, then go out over the water to catch huge air. When the wind-dancing was over, I hopped back on my bike.
I followed the Harbor Walk as much as possible, which meant that I rode in and out quite a bit along the water's edge. The sea breeze certainly made for pleasant riding.
I stopped by The Seafarer's Mission, one of the sites that My team from Calvin College helped out at when we were here in the Spring. The Mission was closed, as was most of the harbor, but it was nice to revisit the spot again.
I revisited The Barking Crab, a restaurant that we ate at in the spring.
I found where the city of Boston stores their extra recycling bins.
Upon hearing music, I turned aside to hear what it was. The Sons of Italy Drum and Bugle Corps were out in full force, putting on a parade through the streets. I followed along with them for about a block before heading off.
I ran across a kind of street preformer that I have heard described before, but never seen in person. I saw what at first glance seemed to be an entirely bronze statue statue. However, the cloak blowing in the wind quickly dissolved that illusion. With no wind the main clue to the statue's live nature would have been the slowly filling vase of money sitting before the black pedestal upon which she stood. I turned aside and watched the woman for a while to see if she would move under any conditions. Several parents walked by with children, and I thought she might interact with them, but alas she remained in character, as stationary as a guard at Buckingham Palace. I was about to leave when a gentleman put some money in the vase. To this she curtseyed, blew a kiss from her bronze hand, and assumed a slighly different pose.
I saw the underside of the beautiful Leonard Zakim Bunker Hill Memorial Bridge (which we drive across every time we go to the market) (http://lh5.ggpht.com/_l_iB-toQBZY/RuGegln1OEI/AAAAAAAAAOg/I75bHwOPJL4/s512/SA704671.JPG).
I saw functioning boat locks in person for the first time.
I revisited the USS Constitution where I had been last week with my parents. This time I visited the museum, rather than touring the boat. The display that I thought was most interesting was an interactive one. There is a yard (round horizontal wooden beam which supports a sail) that one can shimmy out on, with a footrope beneath it to stand upon. The whole thing is suspended such that it can swing a little (though it hangs only just off the ground as to not be too dangerous). Upon reaching the far end, one can draw up the sail and tie it off. I enjoyed getting to feel a little bit what it was like to be a sailor in those days.
I saw an official Bocce court for the first time. I guess people who come to the public courts to play must be serious about their Boccee, because in the one round that I watched, the fellow who threw the palino was able to get two of his balls to come to rest touching it.
I heard a legit Boston accent.
I saw seals at the aquarium.
I came across a drinking fountain that arced the water three times as far as it should.
I asked for directions from a lady who only spoke Spanish.
I had an Italian sub for dinner from a shop in Somerville.
I returned home around 9:15.
Approximate Route: (note, my odometer needs a new battery, but with all the ins and outs I made along the harbor walk, I probably went closer to 50 or 60 miles)
http://tinyurl.com/jimsbostontrek
"Crocodile Dundee"
Some Thursday?
I went to the market today, but left early with Uncle George When the other guys got back from the market Derrick told me that some of the guys had been asking after Crocodile Dundee.
Ways I have been referred to here, in approximate order of frequency (most of the generic terms are from Nancy, as she is much more likely to use generic terms than people's names):
Jimmy
Jim
boy
kid
man
brother
amigo
Crocodile Dundee
caballero
n-----
honey
dear
Ohio
Indiana Jones
Jim Jones
James
Mister Feather in his Cap
primo
John Wayne
I went to the market today, but left early with Uncle George When the other guys got back from the market Derrick told me that some of the guys had been asking after Crocodile Dundee.
Ways I have been referred to here, in approximate order of frequency (most of the generic terms are from Nancy, as she is much more likely to use generic terms than people's names):
Jimmy
Jim
boy
kid
man
brother
amigo
Crocodile Dundee
caballero
n-----
honey
dear
Ohio
Indiana Jones
Jim Jones
James
Mister Feather in his Cap
primo
John Wayne
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
"Nose Goes"
Tuesday
Having finished all of the necessary bagging this morning, our volunteer crew broke for lunch early. Before we began eating Meghan asked if anyone would like to pray. Quickly, members of the group placed their index fingers at the ends of their noses in a classic ritual for deciding who will be stuck with an unpopular task. In this case, the slowest person is then expected to lead the prayer. I understand some people's reluctance to pray in front of groups, large or small. It can be intimidating when a group's attention spotlight shifts to the individual, waiting for some impromptu, meaningful words. And maybe this is just a quick way of diffusing the potential awkward pause as everyone decides whether or not they are willing to volunteer to pray. However, I have seen 'nose goes' used to decide who should pray in many times times and settings, and it has always rubbed me the wrong way. Isn't it an honor and a priviledge to be able to communicate with Almighty God simply through talking and telling Him what is on our hearts? Shouldn't we be fighting over who *gets* to pray instead of who *has* to? What does a non-believer think when they see Christians trying to avoid talking to God? Would that kind of god be a god worth worshipping and praising?
I must confess, I am not afraid of speaking in front of people, and actually rather enjoy it. From a young age, my father asked a different family member to pray over our dinner every night, so praying in front of people is not something that I am uncomfortable with. However, how else will people become comfortable unless they begin doing it?
Perhaps one culprit is our tendency to view prayer as very polished and collected. God can listen to us just as easily (and perhaps more so) when we simply say what's on our mind instead of worrying about how to say it. I think of the man in the Bible who prayed by beating his chest and saying, "Lord, forgive me. I am a sinner." I think of the Spirit interceding for us with groans that are deeper than words. I think of how we are to "Pray without ceasing," and I don't see how that could be if prayer is understood only as formalized, concrete sentences directed towards heaven with folded hands and closed eyes. Prayer is an area in which I feel extremely lacking, and should like to grow.
Having finished all of the necessary bagging this morning, our volunteer crew broke for lunch early. Before we began eating Meghan asked if anyone would like to pray. Quickly, members of the group placed their index fingers at the ends of their noses in a classic ritual for deciding who will be stuck with an unpopular task. In this case, the slowest person is then expected to lead the prayer. I understand some people's reluctance to pray in front of groups, large or small. It can be intimidating when a group's attention spotlight shifts to the individual, waiting for some impromptu, meaningful words. And maybe this is just a quick way of diffusing the potential awkward pause as everyone decides whether or not they are willing to volunteer to pray. However, I have seen 'nose goes' used to decide who should pray in many times times and settings, and it has always rubbed me the wrong way. Isn't it an honor and a priviledge to be able to communicate with Almighty God simply through talking and telling Him what is on our hearts? Shouldn't we be fighting over who *gets* to pray instead of who *has* to? What does a non-believer think when they see Christians trying to avoid talking to God? Would that kind of god be a god worth worshipping and praising?
I must confess, I am not afraid of speaking in front of people, and actually rather enjoy it. From a young age, my father asked a different family member to pray over our dinner every night, so praying in front of people is not something that I am uncomfortable with. However, how else will people become comfortable unless they begin doing it?
Perhaps one culprit is our tendency to view prayer as very polished and collected. God can listen to us just as easily (and perhaps more so) when we simply say what's on our mind instead of worrying about how to say it. I think of the man in the Bible who prayed by beating his chest and saying, "Lord, forgive me. I am a sinner." I think of the Spirit interceding for us with groans that are deeper than words. I think of how we are to "Pray without ceasing," and I don't see how that could be if prayer is understood only as formalized, concrete sentences directed towards heaven with folded hands and closed eyes. Prayer is an area in which I feel extremely lacking, and should like to grow.
"Remote Control Robots"
Monday
We have another group of volunteers this week. Due to a mix-up about when they were coming, the volunteers were at the warehouse by themselves for about an hour yesterday. Meghan (TBPM staff member from Calvin) was with them, and she called Nancy to figure out what to have them work on. They cleaned up around the warehouse until we got back from the market. At the market we a little pineapple for the first time this summer!
When we got back, we unloaded, then sorted baby potatoes and onions. These potato boxes were some of the worst that I've seen this summer. They may have been sitting around for awhile though, since they were sitting in the warehouse over the weekend. Most of the kids were reluctant to stick their hands into the box, so they were slowly picking out baby potatoes one by one. Some of the guys were challenging one another's 'manliness' over who was willing to handle the nasty potatoes. I had no idea that manhood had anything to do with potatoes...
For a couple months during my senior year of high school, my church youth group divided by gender for the lessons. The guys were supposed to be learning what it meant to be a (godly) man. Despite devoting many weeks of discussion and teaching to it, I don't think those lessons gave me any kind of answer. If I had to make a stab at an explanation, my first attempt would involve loving deeply, especially loving God and one's family. That doesn't seem to answer the question, though, as I would hope that women would feel called to that same role. Is there really some sort of special office deigning how men should aspire to live that is different from how women should aspire to live? There are plenty of stereotypes about each gender, certainly, but there are plenty of sterotype breakers as well (take the mechanic/carpenter/jack-of-all trades Nancy for example). It seems like most artificial definitions of manhood are thinly disguised chauvinistic jabs. I can't think of too many times when I have heard women told, "Come on, be a woman!" but I have heard the reverse said often.
If someone could offer up a good definition of manhood (or womanhood) I would be glad to hear it. (Yes, there are the obvious biological differences, but of course that's not what I'm talking about).
We have another group of volunteers this week. Due to a mix-up about when they were coming, the volunteers were at the warehouse by themselves for about an hour yesterday. Meghan (TBPM staff member from Calvin) was with them, and she called Nancy to figure out what to have them work on. They cleaned up around the warehouse until we got back from the market. At the market we a little pineapple for the first time this summer!
When we got back, we unloaded, then sorted baby potatoes and onions. These potato boxes were some of the worst that I've seen this summer. They may have been sitting around for awhile though, since they were sitting in the warehouse over the weekend. Most of the kids were reluctant to stick their hands into the box, so they were slowly picking out baby potatoes one by one. Some of the guys were challenging one another's 'manliness' over who was willing to handle the nasty potatoes. I had no idea that manhood had anything to do with potatoes...
For a couple months during my senior year of high school, my church youth group divided by gender for the lessons. The guys were supposed to be learning what it meant to be a (godly) man. Despite devoting many weeks of discussion and teaching to it, I don't think those lessons gave me any kind of answer. If I had to make a stab at an explanation, my first attempt would involve loving deeply, especially loving God and one's family. That doesn't seem to answer the question, though, as I would hope that women would feel called to that same role. Is there really some sort of special office deigning how men should aspire to live that is different from how women should aspire to live? There are plenty of stereotypes about each gender, certainly, but there are plenty of sterotype breakers as well (take the mechanic/carpenter/jack-of-all trades Nancy for example). It seems like most artificial definitions of manhood are thinly disguised chauvinistic jabs. I can't think of too many times when I have heard women told, "Come on, be a woman!" but I have heard the reverse said often.
If someone could offer up a good definition of manhood (or womanhood) I would be glad to hear it. (Yes, there are the obvious biological differences, but of course that's not what I'm talking about).
"My New Toy"
Sunday
A few things were different around Nancy's when I returned from North Carolina. For one, there was a new trailer sitting in the lot adjoining the house. Nancy explained: A hitch trailer only costs $100 a year to put on the road, as contrasted with a motor vehicle which costs $700+ a year plus monthly insurance expenses. When she learned this last week she put out word to a few friends that she was in the market for a trailer. Several days later her friend Mo dropped by with a trailer that he thought she might be able to use. He hadn't heard that she was looking for one.
God provides.
A few things were different around Nancy's when I returned from North Carolina. For one, there was a new trailer sitting in the lot adjoining the house. Nancy explained: A hitch trailer only costs $100 a year to put on the road, as contrasted with a motor vehicle which costs $700+ a year plus monthly insurance expenses. When she learned this last week she put out word to a few friends that she was in the market for a trailer. Several days later her friend Mo dropped by with a trailer that he thought she might be able to use. He hadn't heard that she was looking for one.
God provides.
Friday, July 16, 2010
"Now is the Only Time"
Friday
I have spent the past week down in North Carolina at Carolina Beach with my some of my family. I've had a little time to do some reading. I've been working my way through Uncle Tom's Cabin. It seems ridiculous to me to think that this is where our society was only 160 years ago. It's not really very long ago when you think about it. Grandpop, my great grandfather, lived to 104, and thus I got the chance to know him a little, as a young boy. He was born in the 1800s, and would certainly have known people that lived through all of this. As far as we have come since then, we have further to go still. My father told me again this week about his time working a hotel in Ocean City during the 70s. He had to stand up to his employers who would not rent rooms to blacks. He told them that he refused to discriminate. One small piece in the larger story.
In the story, one of the characters dies before having done several things that he had promised to do. As a result, they were never done, and the promises left unfulfilled. This was right after Miss Ophelia had pointed out that, "Now is the only time there ever is to do a thing in." True enough. If you have something that you've been meaning to do, maybe now is the time to do it.
I have spent the past week down in North Carolina at Carolina Beach with my some of my family. I've had a little time to do some reading. I've been working my way through Uncle Tom's Cabin. It seems ridiculous to me to think that this is where our society was only 160 years ago. It's not really very long ago when you think about it. Grandpop, my great grandfather, lived to 104, and thus I got the chance to know him a little, as a young boy. He was born in the 1800s, and would certainly have known people that lived through all of this. As far as we have come since then, we have further to go still. My father told me again this week about his time working a hotel in Ocean City during the 70s. He had to stand up to his employers who would not rent rooms to blacks. He told them that he refused to discriminate. One small piece in the larger story.
In the story, one of the characters dies before having done several things that he had promised to do. As a result, they were never done, and the promises left unfulfilled. This was right after Miss Ophelia had pointed out that, "Now is the only time there ever is to do a thing in." True enough. If you have something that you've been meaning to do, maybe now is the time to do it.
"Welcome to the Home of the Big Dig"
Thursday
Now I don't know anything about bricklaying, but I bet I could learn if I needed to. And if I needed to I bet I could brick up a garage door in a day. The city owns the building that we work in, and they have some kind of plan for it. Yesterday they began laying cinderblocks in front of Door Number 2 (no organization uses that space currently). Four guys were working on the wall again today, and they still haven't finished. Several weeks ago the city tore up the asphalt from the street in front of our warehouse, and they still haven't come back to repave it. I can't imagine that our van's right front idler arm appreciated that we played dodge the raised manholes while loaded with 3,000 pounds of produce every day. While that wasn't the sole reason we had to replace it, I'm sure it didn't help.
While on the subject of the streets of Boston, I should put in a word about the cars on those streets. People always say that Boston drivers are crazy, but it turns out... they're right! A for instance: Once, back before the rode in front of our warehouse was torn up, I was driving along it, ready to turn left into the parking lot. A car was behind me, and I signaled a left turn. I slowed down slightly to make the turn (I didn't need to slow down much, as it is a slow road regardless). I see a whiz of white as the car passes me on the left, while I nearly turn into the car.
Another for instance: I watched two cars coming from the same direction approach a stop sign. Both cars were turning right. The car in back squealed its tires to make the right turn on the outside of the other vehicle.
On the main roads, depending on the time of day, one is better off on two wheels. On my way to the warehouse I drive on Dorchester Avenue (Dot Ave) for about two miles. Turning onto Dot Ave, yesterday, I was behind a cyclist I hit several red lights along the way, and plenty of traffic. While I was sitting, waiting to turn left off of Dot Ave, who should come pedalling along but the very same cyclist. Biking on the main roads is a job and a half. You have to keep 150% of your attention focused on the biking, and as a mathematician I know this isn't even possible. Since you are allowed to pass cars on the right, this sometimes means navigating a narrow alley between the cars in the road, and those that are parked. All the while the cyclist must watch for cars on both sides of the alley that might decide that they would rather be on the alley's other side. Car doors could open suddenly, and behind every parked car lurks the potential for an oblivious pedestrian. Maybe this is why varieties of pedestrians have been categoried and intersections have been mapped in a book called "The Boston Driver's Handbook: Wild in the Streets--The Almost Post Big Dig Edition" (http://tinyurl.com/guidetodrivinginboston).
There's an intersection on Dot Ave that almost seems worthy of inclusion. Two roads intersect Dot Ave near the same spot. Both intersect at different angles on each side of the road. Rather than install a normal traffic control light, Dot Ave is always blinking yellow, and the side roads are always blinking red (unless a pedestrian hits the crosswalk button, in which case the entire intersection shuts down and waits for the pedestrian to cross) (http://tinyurl.com/dotave). This is what happens when you let cows design the roads.
Now I don't know anything about bricklaying, but I bet I could learn if I needed to. And if I needed to I bet I could brick up a garage door in a day. The city owns the building that we work in, and they have some kind of plan for it. Yesterday they began laying cinderblocks in front of Door Number 2 (no organization uses that space currently). Four guys were working on the wall again today, and they still haven't finished. Several weeks ago the city tore up the asphalt from the street in front of our warehouse, and they still haven't come back to repave it. I can't imagine that our van's right front idler arm appreciated that we played dodge the raised manholes while loaded with 3,000 pounds of produce every day. While that wasn't the sole reason we had to replace it, I'm sure it didn't help.
While on the subject of the streets of Boston, I should put in a word about the cars on those streets. People always say that Boston drivers are crazy, but it turns out... they're right! A for instance: Once, back before the rode in front of our warehouse was torn up, I was driving along it, ready to turn left into the parking lot. A car was behind me, and I signaled a left turn. I slowed down slightly to make the turn (I didn't need to slow down much, as it is a slow road regardless). I see a whiz of white as the car passes me on the left, while I nearly turn into the car.
Another for instance: I watched two cars coming from the same direction approach a stop sign. Both cars were turning right. The car in back squealed its tires to make the right turn on the outside of the other vehicle.
On the main roads, depending on the time of day, one is better off on two wheels. On my way to the warehouse I drive on Dorchester Avenue (Dot Ave) for about two miles. Turning onto Dot Ave, yesterday, I was behind a cyclist I hit several red lights along the way, and plenty of traffic. While I was sitting, waiting to turn left off of Dot Ave, who should come pedalling along but the very same cyclist. Biking on the main roads is a job and a half. You have to keep 150% of your attention focused on the biking, and as a mathematician I know this isn't even possible. Since you are allowed to pass cars on the right, this sometimes means navigating a narrow alley between the cars in the road, and those that are parked. All the while the cyclist must watch for cars on both sides of the alley that might decide that they would rather be on the alley's other side. Car doors could open suddenly, and behind every parked car lurks the potential for an oblivious pedestrian. Maybe this is why varieties of pedestrians have been categoried and intersections have been mapped in a book called "The Boston Driver's Handbook: Wild in the Streets--The Almost Post Big Dig Edition" (http://tinyurl.com/guidetodrivinginboston).
There's an intersection on Dot Ave that almost seems worthy of inclusion. Two roads intersect Dot Ave near the same spot. Both intersect at different angles on each side of the road. Rather than install a normal traffic control light, Dot Ave is always blinking yellow, and the side roads are always blinking red (unless a pedestrian hits the crosswalk button, in which case the entire intersection shuts down and waits for the pedestrian to cross) (http://tinyurl.com/dotave). This is what happens when you let cows design the roads.
"I'm a Huge Metal Fan"
Saturday
When I first saw the modern musical Once I really enjoyed it for a number of reasons. One of these was that the music flowed naturally from the characters, requiring no suspension of disbelief or acceptance of genre stipulations to understand or appreciate the film. Jason seems like he could have walked off of the set of that film, for music flows naturally from and around him. He brought along his Ukulele today, and was giving me some free lessons during the van ride. He taught me a few chord progressions, and then sang some songs to them, and improvised lyrics for a few more songs. When we ride in the van we usually have the radio on, and it is not unusual for us to start improvising additional percussive tracks for the music. To Jason, music is intuitive, which is how we can have a jam session with Brother Lowe for an hour and a half, and it is how he can play beautiful music on the piano after only a year of piano, (despite the fact that he doesn't read notes), and it is how he can keep playing fresh styles of music on the guitar for the length of Mary's going away party, accompanied variously by accordion, singers, and miscellaneous percussion instruments (including wood blocks, plastic bags, sticks, a grill lid, a fridge rack, cinder blocks, and tin can shakers.
Jason even used to be part of Boston's Heavy metal scene, back when his hair was a little longer. He hasn't forgotten either, as he pointed out at the market this morning. We went into Gold Bell and a pallet sized cooling device was sitting in front of our normal pickup location, so Jason gave voice to what it was thinking...
When I first saw the modern musical Once I really enjoyed it for a number of reasons. One of these was that the music flowed naturally from the characters, requiring no suspension of disbelief or acceptance of genre stipulations to understand or appreciate the film. Jason seems like he could have walked off of the set of that film, for music flows naturally from and around him. He brought along his Ukulele today, and was giving me some free lessons during the van ride. He taught me a few chord progressions, and then sang some songs to them, and improvised lyrics for a few more songs. When we ride in the van we usually have the radio on, and it is not unusual for us to start improvising additional percussive tracks for the music. To Jason, music is intuitive, which is how we can have a jam session with Brother Lowe for an hour and a half, and it is how he can play beautiful music on the piano after only a year of piano, (despite the fact that he doesn't read notes), and it is how he can keep playing fresh styles of music on the guitar for the length of Mary's going away party, accompanied variously by accordion, singers, and miscellaneous percussion instruments (including wood blocks, plastic bags, sticks, a grill lid, a fridge rack, cinder blocks, and tin can shakers.
Jason even used to be part of Boston's Heavy metal scene, back when his hair was a little longer. He hasn't forgotten either, as he pointed out at the market this morning. We went into Gold Bell and a pallet sized cooling device was sitting in front of our normal pickup location, so Jason gave voice to what it was thinking...
"You're a Legend!"
Thursday
While Megan, was TBPM staff member Monday and Tuesday, a fellow named Taylor came yesterday and today. When they arrived he informed me that some of the kids had been talking about me last night. I guess it's nice to know that I'm different enough from the norm for some high schoolers to remember me at least into the evening. I guess I have to stand in as a pale shadow of the wildness that is Nancy. She was at the warehouse briefly one day this week, but the youth did not get to spend any length of time with her. Instead I got to inform them about the mission and functioning of Fair Foods.
It was curious how each group had a different feel. On Monday, the group was a little older (late high school students), and they were very interested in learning about the waste in our society, about how Fair Foods operated, and about the Market. On Tuesday, the group seemed very interested in me, and how I'd come to Boston, where I went to school, what I studied, and so forth. Wednesday, and today the groups seemed more interested in having fun amongst themselves, playing word games (Name a famous person whose name begins with the last letter of the previous name) and puzzle games. Having spent three years in college, I was familiar with all of their puzzle games, and even contributed one of my own ("Ok, This is an Onion!"). Unfortunately one of these kids had just learned about The Game, and proceeded to make me lose. Being the first person in Boston to independently make me lose The Game in almost a month, I wasn't thrilled, but was quite amused.
If you don't know about The Game, then I am sorry I must be the bearer of bad news.
The Rules:
1. Everyone is playing The Game at all times.
2. If you think about The Game, you lose, and are granted a small grace period of forgetting.
3. If you lose The Game, you must announce this loss to those around you.
While I wasn't on the truck today, we set a new record: 11 plates of food were brought to us! Fortunately that was enough that I got some of the delicious leftovers, despite working at the warehouse all day.
While Megan, was TBPM staff member Monday and Tuesday, a fellow named Taylor came yesterday and today. When they arrived he informed me that some of the kids had been talking about me last night. I guess it's nice to know that I'm different enough from the norm for some high schoolers to remember me at least into the evening. I guess I have to stand in as a pale shadow of the wildness that is Nancy. She was at the warehouse briefly one day this week, but the youth did not get to spend any length of time with her. Instead I got to inform them about the mission and functioning of Fair Foods.
It was curious how each group had a different feel. On Monday, the group was a little older (late high school students), and they were very interested in learning about the waste in our society, about how Fair Foods operated, and about the Market. On Tuesday, the group seemed very interested in me, and how I'd come to Boston, where I went to school, what I studied, and so forth. Wednesday, and today the groups seemed more interested in having fun amongst themselves, playing word games (Name a famous person whose name begins with the last letter of the previous name) and puzzle games. Having spent three years in college, I was familiar with all of their puzzle games, and even contributed one of my own ("Ok, This is an Onion!"). Unfortunately one of these kids had just learned about The Game, and proceeded to make me lose. Being the first person in Boston to independently make me lose The Game in almost a month, I wasn't thrilled, but was quite amused.
If you don't know about The Game, then I am sorry I must be the bearer of bad news.
The Rules:
1. Everyone is playing The Game at all times.
2. If you think about The Game, you lose, and are granted a small grace period of forgetting.
3. If you lose The Game, you must announce this loss to those around you.
While I wasn't on the truck today, we set a new record: 11 plates of food were brought to us! Fortunately that was enough that I got some of the delicious leftovers, despite working at the warehouse all day.
"Are You Hungry?"
Tuesday
Today I have decided to present a random fact, a list, and a recipe:
Random Fact:
I found a spoon down the drain in the bathroom on the first floor.
List of everything I remember consuming today, roughly in order:
Corn Flakes (From Stop & Shop)
Orange Juice (From Stop & Shop)
Bite of a Chicken Sub (From Richard)
Two Ears of Raw Corn (From New England Produce Center)
PB&J (From The Boston Project Ministries)
Store Brand Cheetos (From TBPM)
Apple (From TBPM)
Water (From Tap)
Coconut Ball Pastry (From Stop & Shop)
Three Slices of Watermelon (From NEPC)
Fried Plantains (From NEPC)
Tofu Fries (From NEPC)
Fried Catfish (From Stop & Shop)
Fried Mushrooms (From NEPC)
Fried Green Tomatoes (From NEPC)
Pig's Feet (From Jason, from a lady at a site)
Recipe for Homemade Toilet Paper Holder:
Ingredients
1 eight inch screw
1 broom handle
1 sledgehammer head
Cooking Instructions
Pre-drill hole for screw in broom handle end. Cut broom handle to desired length. Chisel cut end as necessary. Insert broom handle into sledgehammer head. Flavor with long screw. Serve.
Today I have decided to present a random fact, a list, and a recipe:
Random Fact:
I found a spoon down the drain in the bathroom on the first floor.
List of everything I remember consuming today, roughly in order:
Corn Flakes (From Stop & Shop)
Orange Juice (From Stop & Shop)
Bite of a Chicken Sub (From Richard)
Two Ears of Raw Corn (From New England Produce Center)
PB&J (From The Boston Project Ministries)
Store Brand Cheetos (From TBPM)
Apple (From TBPM)
Water (From Tap)
Coconut Ball Pastry (From Stop & Shop)
Three Slices of Watermelon (From NEPC)
Fried Plantains (From NEPC)
Tofu Fries (From NEPC)
Fried Catfish (From Stop & Shop)
Fried Mushrooms (From NEPC)
Fried Green Tomatoes (From NEPC)
Pig's Feet (From Jason, from a lady at a site)
Recipe for Homemade Toilet Paper Holder:
Ingredients
1 eight inch screw
1 broom handle
1 sledgehammer head
Cooking Instructions
Pre-drill hole for screw in broom handle end. Cut broom handle to desired length. Chisel cut end as necessary. Insert broom handle into sledgehammer head. Flavor with long screw. Serve.
"Four High Pallets"
Monday
We had our first group of volunteers from The Boston Project today. Everything seemed to go surprisingly smoothly. In past conversations with my sister about her experiences working with volunteer groups at the multi-faceted Joe's Java ministry, it sounds like groups of volunteers can sometimes be a hassle. When large groups come in to a small space, finding something productive for everyone to do can be difficult. Fortunately TBPM splits the groups into smaller sets. We had four students, one leader, and Meghan, a member of TBPM staff, who also happens to be a Calvin girl!
We had our first group of volunteers from The Boston Project today. Everything seemed to go surprisingly smoothly. In past conversations with my sister about her experiences working with volunteer groups at the multi-faceted Joe's Java ministry, it sounds like groups of volunteers can sometimes be a hassle. When large groups come in to a small space, finding something productive for everyone to do can be difficult. Fortunately TBPM splits the groups into smaller sets. We had four students, one leader, and Meghan, a member of TBPM staff, who also happens to be a Calvin girl!
We managed to have a very successful day. We put half the crew on painting new signs, and the other half on taking care of the corn that had been brought in. The signs are sky blue plywood sheets that we set out at the various sites to attract attention. We need new ones, since some of our sites' times are different then they used to be, and some of our sites simply did not have their own signs. We are hoping to make site specific signs for each site, as well as a few general signs, and some large arrow signs to point the way to the van. One girl there who was working on the signs was doing some beautiful work. The girl next to her was having a bit more trouble staying in the lines. However, rather than discarding or redoing the second girl's work, the first girl simply outlined the strokes on the second girl's sign, turning her attempts into a beautiful, useful sign. I think God does the same with our efforts: making beautiful our feeble attempts to work for him.
The corn that we got today was the most of any singular item that I have yet seen. We brought back only three of the pallets that they had available today, and we plan to take the rest tomorrow. Since we had no sites today, we need to help the corn keep as well as possible. Many of the ears have a few spots of mold on the outer layer of the husk, so we went through, ear by ear, husking the first layer of the corn, and bagging up eight ears for a dollar. We have a lot of corn to move. Boy, this warehouse doesn't stay empty for long.
"Warehouse"
Sunday
Remember that clubhouse that I built for the Riddles' kids the first week I was here? We finally delivered it today! Originally it had windows, a ladder, a seat, and a covered interior. However, the longer it sat in the yard, the more additions it picked up. Now it has walls around the top, a flagpole, a fenced in porch, a seat on the porch, and peepholes. The neighbor painted it jungle green, and there are plans to add a basketball hoop, and a flag to the flagpole. That seems to be the way everything goes around here. Nancy has a lot of ideas, and dreams big, so consequently she is always in the middle of a lot of half-finished projects, some which will be accomplished, and some of which will be perpetually on the back burner. What gets done is based on what seems most important at the time. Since it was finally important enough to take the clubhouse over, we loaded it into the back of the van, and Jason and I delivered and installed it while the kids were out.
After we finished we played a little one v. one b-ball, (PIG and Fifty), and though it was competitive, Jason beat me handily. When the kids returned, Joseph, the oldest, clocking in at five years of age, declared the structure to be their warehouse. The kids have been over to the Fair Foods Warehouse a few times, so what else would Jason and I bring over, but a miniature warehouse for them? They had soon declared that there were "No Grown-Ups Allowed." I was still allowed in, despite my grown-up status, seeing as I am a "Grown-Up Kid."
Remember that clubhouse that I built for the Riddles' kids the first week I was here? We finally delivered it today! Originally it had windows, a ladder, a seat, and a covered interior. However, the longer it sat in the yard, the more additions it picked up. Now it has walls around the top, a flagpole, a fenced in porch, a seat on the porch, and peepholes. The neighbor painted it jungle green, and there are plans to add a basketball hoop, and a flag to the flagpole. That seems to be the way everything goes around here. Nancy has a lot of ideas, and dreams big, so consequently she is always in the middle of a lot of half-finished projects, some which will be accomplished, and some of which will be perpetually on the back burner. What gets done is based on what seems most important at the time. Since it was finally important enough to take the clubhouse over, we loaded it into the back of the van, and Jason and I delivered and installed it while the kids were out.
After we finished we played a little one v. one b-ball, (PIG and Fifty), and though it was competitive, Jason beat me handily. When the kids returned, Joseph, the oldest, clocking in at five years of age, declared the structure to be their warehouse. The kids have been over to the Fair Foods Warehouse a few times, so what else would Jason and I bring over, but a miniature warehouse for them? They had soon declared that there were "No Grown-Ups Allowed." I was still allowed in, despite my grown-up status, seeing as I am a "Grown-Up Kid."
Thursday, July 8, 2010
"More?"
Saturday
I was right. Today the warehouse is the emptiest I have ever seen it. The only produce left in the place is a single box of baby potatoes, and the cardboard shelf is empty. We go to the market to pick up every day that it is open, and it is closed on Sundays. Thus we are both more likely to get extra food on Saturdays (since it might go bad on the market guys over the weekend) and more likely to move extra food on Saturdays (since it might go bad on us over the weekend). We try to sell or give away as much as we can on Saturdays. Today we came back with nothing on the truck, despite picking up, among other things, 33 bags of onions yesterday, and 16 more today. We had sorted out the better ones to sell, and were left with ten boxes of onions that needed some love. We met a Haitian woman named Lala, who has a restaurant right down the street from our last site. We kept asking if she would like to take another case of the onions, and she ended up taking all of them. She got some free onions, and we didn't have to make another stop to drop the onions off for compost! We also got some fish curry out of the deal.
I was right. Today the warehouse is the emptiest I have ever seen it. The only produce left in the place is a single box of baby potatoes, and the cardboard shelf is empty. We go to the market to pick up every day that it is open, and it is closed on Sundays. Thus we are both more likely to get extra food on Saturdays (since it might go bad on the market guys over the weekend) and more likely to move extra food on Saturdays (since it might go bad on us over the weekend). We try to sell or give away as much as we can on Saturdays. Today we came back with nothing on the truck, despite picking up, among other things, 33 bags of onions yesterday, and 16 more today. We had sorted out the better ones to sell, and were left with ten boxes of onions that needed some love. We met a Haitian woman named Lala, who has a restaurant right down the street from our last site. We kept asking if she would like to take another case of the onions, and she ended up taking all of them. She got some free onions, and we didn't have to make another stop to drop the onions off for compost! We also got some fish curry out of the deal.
Friday, July 2, 2010
"Code Enforcement"
Friday
We meet a lot of characters while working at Fair Foods. Today, at our first site, one of the garbage men jumped off the truck, and whipped out some kind of ID. He shouted that he was from Code Enforcement, and that he needed to see our papers, and that we needed to shut down and leave. If we didn't show him our permit then he said he would have us each arrested and fined $1000 dollars for selling food out of 'that hot van'. When Jason asked him who he was representing, and whether he would allow us to speak with his supervisor, he simply continued shouting that this was about Code Enforcement. Our friend Tom who was at the site with us went to the other garbage man and asked him what was going on. The second garbage man simply said that his partner was crazy. They left, and continued down the street, giving us no more trouble.
Whatever.
We meet a lot of characters while working at Fair Foods. Today, at our first site, one of the garbage men jumped off the truck, and whipped out some kind of ID. He shouted that he was from Code Enforcement, and that he needed to see our papers, and that we needed to shut down and leave. If we didn't show him our permit then he said he would have us each arrested and fined $1000 dollars for selling food out of 'that hot van'. When Jason asked him who he was representing, and whether he would allow us to speak with his supervisor, he simply continued shouting that this was about Code Enforcement. Our friend Tom who was at the site with us went to the other garbage man and asked him what was going on. The second garbage man simply said that his partner was crazy. They left, and continued down the street, giving us no more trouble.
Whatever.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
"Almost Anything"
Thursday
Today I went with Mary over to her friend Sparky's place for game night. We played a game that involved, ... wait for it ... counting beans! It's called Bohnanza (the name is German) apparently a play on the german words for 'bean' and 'bonanza'. It was a close match, with a final score of 21 to 22 to 23 to 24. I placed third, Sparky was second, and Mary was the night's big winner. It seems fitting that she should win though, seeing as she won't get too many chances to win game night for the next five weeks. She is headed out to Washington to take a class and visit with family.
Sparky really seemed like an interesting character. After a computer science undergrad at Carnegie Mellon and graduate work at MIT, he is now employed in a small freelance company by night, and by Harmonics (the makers of the wildly popular Rock Band series) by day. He showed me some photos and videos from one of his projects, which was to design the intermission antics for a huge fountain display at a brand new mall. Every hour the fountain puts on a ten minute show. The show pulls out all the stops, using an 8x8 grid of 20 foot jets that can be lit with any color, several 50 foot jets, a few arching fountains, a rain curtain, fog machines, colored spotlights, and background music. His company's job was to design the fountain's behavior between shows. They decided to make it interactive. They installed motion sensing hardware, and at certain times, the fountain will play different interactive games with the audience. If only a few people are around, the jets nearest you might shoot up as you walk around. If a few more people are around, the colored spotlights may turn on, and the fountain will make multi-colored displays corresponding in hue and size with the crowds. If many people are around, the outer rim will light up like a roulette wheel, and after settling on someone, the fountain will give a reward, the elaborateness of which depends on the vigor of the dancing. It really seemed like a fun project to be involved in. While at MIT, he took a class called 'How To Make (Almost) Anything', which included machining, circuitry design and construction, microprocessor programming, and use of a 3-D printer. He had a beautiful rainbow cube made up of 4x4x4 smaller cubes that were attached together by rods. It seems that MIT's definition of '(almost) anything' must have a clause about computers. Not too surprising for MIT.
The Fountain:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zPsZ1bFRwMM
Today I went with Mary over to her friend Sparky's place for game night. We played a game that involved, ... wait for it ... counting beans! It's called Bohnanza (the name is German) apparently a play on the german words for 'bean' and 'bonanza'. It was a close match, with a final score of 21 to 22 to 23 to 24. I placed third, Sparky was second, and Mary was the night's big winner. It seems fitting that she should win though, seeing as she won't get too many chances to win game night for the next five weeks. She is headed out to Washington to take a class and visit with family.
Sparky really seemed like an interesting character. After a computer science undergrad at Carnegie Mellon and graduate work at MIT, he is now employed in a small freelance company by night, and by Harmonics (the makers of the wildly popular Rock Band series) by day. He showed me some photos and videos from one of his projects, which was to design the intermission antics for a huge fountain display at a brand new mall. Every hour the fountain puts on a ten minute show. The show pulls out all the stops, using an 8x8 grid of 20 foot jets that can be lit with any color, several 50 foot jets, a few arching fountains, a rain curtain, fog machines, colored spotlights, and background music. His company's job was to design the fountain's behavior between shows. They decided to make it interactive. They installed motion sensing hardware, and at certain times, the fountain will play different interactive games with the audience. If only a few people are around, the jets nearest you might shoot up as you walk around. If a few more people are around, the colored spotlights may turn on, and the fountain will make multi-colored displays corresponding in hue and size with the crowds. If many people are around, the outer rim will light up like a roulette wheel, and after settling on someone, the fountain will give a reward, the elaborateness of which depends on the vigor of the dancing. It really seemed like a fun project to be involved in. While at MIT, he took a class called 'How To Make (Almost) Anything', which included machining, circuitry design and construction, microprocessor programming, and use of a 3-D printer. He had a beautiful rainbow cube made up of 4x4x4 smaller cubes that were attached together by rods. It seems that MIT's definition of '(almost) anything' must have a clause about computers. Not too surprising for MIT.
The Fountain:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zPsZ1bFRwMM
Monday, June 28, 2010
"Let's Do That Again!"
Tuesday
I'm clearly not around children enough. I'm the youngest child in my family. I never worked the nursery at church. I didn't really do any babysitting. My youngest cousin already towers over her sisters. Today I went back over to Keith and Sarah's for the second time. Nancy wanted me to take them some food, and deliver some onions, plantains, tomatoes, potatoes, veggie burgers, for the Boston Project. I had the pleasure of enjoying a wonderful meal of burgers and veggies off the grill, along with pork and beans, and sweet potato pie for dessert. After dinner, I got to play with the kids, and I must say, their MarbleWorks tracks made me a little nostalgic (MarbleWorks is set of tubes and ramps that slide together and form long routes for marbles to roll down; we had the exact same set as a kid). I was sitting on the couch, and Joseph (5) brought me over a small plastic airplane and a single rubber band. He wanted me to hold the rubber band taut, then he would use it to launch the airplane. He did this a couple times, and then Timmy (3) wanted a turn. Timmy would launch the airplane across the room, looking to see where it went. After running to get it, he would say in the sweetest, most excited voice, "Let's do that again!" It seemed like it would never get old. The mystery and magic of the rubber band kept Timmy coming back, over and over, never tiring of saying, "Let's do that again!" God calls us to come to him like little children. Sometimes I think we get bored or tired of God, but he is so amazing and wonderful! May we never tire of putting our trust in God, letting him launch us out in faith, seeing where he takes us, run after his will, and all the while turning to him to say, "Let's do that again!"
I'm clearly not around children enough. I'm the youngest child in my family. I never worked the nursery at church. I didn't really do any babysitting. My youngest cousin already towers over her sisters. Today I went back over to Keith and Sarah's for the second time. Nancy wanted me to take them some food, and deliver some onions, plantains, tomatoes, potatoes, veggie burgers, for the Boston Project. I had the pleasure of enjoying a wonderful meal of burgers and veggies off the grill, along with pork and beans, and sweet potato pie for dessert. After dinner, I got to play with the kids, and I must say, their MarbleWorks tracks made me a little nostalgic (MarbleWorks is set of tubes and ramps that slide together and form long routes for marbles to roll down; we had the exact same set as a kid). I was sitting on the couch, and Joseph (5) brought me over a small plastic airplane and a single rubber band. He wanted me to hold the rubber band taut, then he would use it to launch the airplane. He did this a couple times, and then Timmy (3) wanted a turn. Timmy would launch the airplane across the room, looking to see where it went. After running to get it, he would say in the sweetest, most excited voice, "Let's do that again!" It seemed like it would never get old. The mystery and magic of the rubber band kept Timmy coming back, over and over, never tiring of saying, "Let's do that again!" God calls us to come to him like little children. Sometimes I think we get bored or tired of God, but he is so amazing and wonderful! May we never tire of putting our trust in God, letting him launch us out in faith, seeing where he takes us, run after his will, and all the while turning to him to say, "Let's do that again!"
Sunday, June 27, 2010
"That's Weird"
Monday
We certainly have an interesting fleet. It really seems like the vans rotate between being in and out of commission. The big van's brakes were making a clicking sound this morning, so we had our mechanic friend come over to look at it, and he and Nancy fixed it up. This is the van with no visibility out the rear view mirror (since there is insulation covering most of the inside, including the back windows), and only a quarter of the original visibility out of the driver side mirror, since one 3x3 inch patch is all that shows through the duct tape that holds the mirror together after some long-ago accident. The back doors are a bit odd as I have described before, and the molded plastic piece that belongs between the front seats (it has the ashtray, cigarette lighter, and cupholders) currently inhabits a spot in the front yard right between two computer monitors. The left turn signal runs on manual operation.
So today we were restricted to the smaller van, the caravan. This vehicle has a large curved gash in the windshield, an arc scratched out by the metal arm of an old windshield wiper that no longer had a blade. The back door doesn't open, the gas tank can only be filled three quarters of the way, as a leak will waste any additional gas you might add. While station surfing this morning, Jason explained to me that the radio only receives certain stations, and *Hot 97 Boston* is not among them. Immediately after he had explained this, we caught just two words from the next station: "That's weird."
Eh. Not a bad vehicle for $200 bucks though. And the big van was only $1400.
We certainly have an interesting fleet. It really seems like the vans rotate between being in and out of commission. The big van's brakes were making a clicking sound this morning, so we had our mechanic friend come over to look at it, and he and Nancy fixed it up. This is the van with no visibility out the rear view mirror (since there is insulation covering most of the inside, including the back windows), and only a quarter of the original visibility out of the driver side mirror, since one 3x3 inch patch is all that shows through the duct tape that holds the mirror together after some long-ago accident. The back doors are a bit odd as I have described before, and the molded plastic piece that belongs between the front seats (it has the ashtray, cigarette lighter, and cupholders) currently inhabits a spot in the front yard right between two computer monitors. The left turn signal runs on manual operation.
So today we were restricted to the smaller van, the caravan. This vehicle has a large curved gash in the windshield, an arc scratched out by the metal arm of an old windshield wiper that no longer had a blade. The back door doesn't open, the gas tank can only be filled three quarters of the way, as a leak will waste any additional gas you might add. While station surfing this morning, Jason explained to me that the radio only receives certain stations, and *Hot 97 Boston* is not among them. Immediately after he had explained this, we caught just two words from the next station: "That's weird."
Eh. Not a bad vehicle for $200 bucks though. And the big van was only $1400.
Monday, June 21, 2010
"Happy Father's Day"
Sunday
Yesterday, both Jason and I received happy Father's Day wishes. Since neither of us are fathers, we promised to pass the message along to our fathers. As such, I should like to make a brief aside to my father:
Happy Father's Day, Dad!
I'll grant you, of the two such addresses that I received, only one assumed that I was a father, as the other address was tempered with a conditional clause. Jason, being eight years older than myself, though, must have received half a dozen to a dozen such wishes. Around here, at least in the circles I have been running in, it seems to be the cultural expectation that people will start having kids young, whether or not they are married. I must confess, before this summer I had never heard the terms "baby mommy," and "baby daddy" before. In case the name itself doesn't make the definition entirely clear, a "baby mommy" is the woman a man makes a baby with, regardless of whether they are married, engaged, cohabitating, divorced, separated, or nearly strangers.
Yesterday, both Jason and I received happy Father's Day wishes. Since neither of us are fathers, we promised to pass the message along to our fathers. As such, I should like to make a brief aside to my father:
Happy Father's Day, Dad!
I'll grant you, of the two such addresses that I received, only one assumed that I was a father, as the other address was tempered with a conditional clause. Jason, being eight years older than myself, though, must have received half a dozen to a dozen such wishes. Around here, at least in the circles I have been running in, it seems to be the cultural expectation that people will start having kids young, whether or not they are married. I must confess, before this summer I had never heard the terms "baby mommy," and "baby daddy" before. In case the name itself doesn't make the definition entirely clear, a "baby mommy" is the woman a man makes a baby with, regardless of whether they are married, engaged, cohabitating, divorced, separated, or nearly strangers.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
"Like The Angels of Produce"
Saturday
Fair Foods has been running continuously for about twenty years. During that time, while the main arm has obviously been the food distribution, Nancy also picks up and distributes surplus lumber and surplus paint. Lumber comes from shipping containers that are considered garbage after they are used once, and paint comes from mistinted paint. We picked up two pallets of paint last week, and delivered some of it to our friend Agnailu yesterday.
Before we picked up the paint, the back doors to the big van were tricky. To get it to close properly you had to slam the door with just the right force. Too hard, or too light, and it wouldn't latch. I was starting to get the hang of it, and sometimes got it on the first try, though twice it took five tries. It once even took someone else seven. The door was also hard to open, and became a two hand operation, as one hand had to push in what is supposed to be a thumb button while the other pulled on the handle. When we picked up the pallets of paint though, it was loaded by forklift, and the forklift broke off the U hooks at the bottom of the door. Now the doors work great! (only you still have to lean against the left door while opening the right one sometimes, since the left one no longer latches to anything on its own).
The food branch has been the main operation though. It actually used to be a much larger operation. It sort of bottomed out about a year and a half ago, and has been building its way back up since then, as Nancy has moved to focusing more on some other projects. Now we only have the big van and the Caravan mini-van, but they used to have several box trucks, and closer to 80 sites (currently 40). Before cutting back to just produce, they also used to carry Pepsi products and breads and pastries. People really liked the soda. Fair Foods hasn't had soda for a year, and we will still have somebody come to the truck every single day asking if we have soda. The soda was always seen as sort of a mixed blessing, since it isn't very healthy, but made people very happy. Fair Foods isn't in the business of telling people what they should eat though, and if many of the folks buying soda from us would buy it from the store anyways, then it was still a way to help them save some money. They were trying to give people what they wanted.
The question whether folks without a lot of money should be able to get nice things is certainly one where people come down on different sides of the issue. In the past Jason has had trouble with a few of the managers at the produce market who will bring out a load of entirely spoiled food to give him, and when he points out that he can't use it they retort, "But it's for poor people right?". All of the produce that we put in the two dollar bags is nice stuff. That means we often have to expend a lot of energy sorting through a box of peppers, tomatoes, or zucchini, some of which have bad spots, in order to find the really nice ones. The ones that have just a few bad spots we often put out and sell a dollar a box, or simply give them away free to anyone who is willing to do a little bit of extra work to separate the goodness from the garbage (whether something is free is dependent on quantity, time of day, current inventory, expected incoming inventory, money that the customer has available, etc.)
Fair Foods has been running continuously for about twenty years. During that time, while the main arm has obviously been the food distribution, Nancy also picks up and distributes surplus lumber and surplus paint. Lumber comes from shipping containers that are considered garbage after they are used once, and paint comes from mistinted paint. We picked up two pallets of paint last week, and delivered some of it to our friend Agnailu yesterday.
Before we picked up the paint, the back doors to the big van were tricky. To get it to close properly you had to slam the door with just the right force. Too hard, or too light, and it wouldn't latch. I was starting to get the hang of it, and sometimes got it on the first try, though twice it took five tries. It once even took someone else seven. The door was also hard to open, and became a two hand operation, as one hand had to push in what is supposed to be a thumb button while the other pulled on the handle. When we picked up the pallets of paint though, it was loaded by forklift, and the forklift broke off the U hooks at the bottom of the door. Now the doors work great! (only you still have to lean against the left door while opening the right one sometimes, since the left one no longer latches to anything on its own).
The food branch has been the main operation though. It actually used to be a much larger operation. It sort of bottomed out about a year and a half ago, and has been building its way back up since then, as Nancy has moved to focusing more on some other projects. Now we only have the big van and the Caravan mini-van, but they used to have several box trucks, and closer to 80 sites (currently 40). Before cutting back to just produce, they also used to carry Pepsi products and breads and pastries. People really liked the soda. Fair Foods hasn't had soda for a year, and we will still have somebody come to the truck every single day asking if we have soda. The soda was always seen as sort of a mixed blessing, since it isn't very healthy, but made people very happy. Fair Foods isn't in the business of telling people what they should eat though, and if many of the folks buying soda from us would buy it from the store anyways, then it was still a way to help them save some money. They were trying to give people what they wanted.
The question whether folks without a lot of money should be able to get nice things is certainly one where people come down on different sides of the issue. In the past Jason has had trouble with a few of the managers at the produce market who will bring out a load of entirely spoiled food to give him, and when he points out that he can't use it they retort, "But it's for poor people right?". All of the produce that we put in the two dollar bags is nice stuff. That means we often have to expend a lot of energy sorting through a box of peppers, tomatoes, or zucchini, some of which have bad spots, in order to find the really nice ones. The ones that have just a few bad spots we often put out and sell a dollar a box, or simply give them away free to anyone who is willing to do a little bit of extra work to separate the goodness from the garbage (whether something is free is dependent on quantity, time of day, current inventory, expected incoming inventory, money that the customer has available, etc.)
Friday, June 18, 2010
"Beautiful"
Friday
I know Samuel Edward McConnel isn't starting the next facebook fan page for cauliflower, but I bet he (and anyone else for that matter) can find a few things here that they love. If you can't there's probably something wrong with your tastebuds. This is a list of all the things that I can remember handling through Fair Foods since I've been here. In parenthesis I've included a guess as to roughly how many cases we've handled.
almonds (30)
apple (3)
arugula (2)
asparagus (30)
banana (40)
basil (2)
beans
french (80)
string (20)
blackberries (20)
blueberries
dried (2)
bread (30)
broccoli (20)
carrots (10)
cauliflower (40)
celery (50)
cole slaw mix (10)
corn (1)
corn bread mix (2)
cucumber
regular (10)
english (15)
grapes (1)
honeydew melon (20)
kale (20)
kiwi (30)
lemon (2)
lettuce
iceberg (30)
loose leaf (70)
romaine (40)
shredded (10)
lime (1)
mango (2)
mushrooms (4)
onions
whole (40)
scraps (2)
orange (30)
papaya
large (25)
small (25)
peanuts (10)
peppers
yellow bell (140)
orange bell (30)
red bell (30)
plantain (50)
potatoes
jumbo (30)
other (300)
teeny tiny (10)
radishes (2)
raspberries (4)
rhubarb (1)
rutabega (3)
sage (2)
salad dressing (20)
strawberries (40)
soup mix (10)
soy nuts (1)
spinach (30)
squash
acorn (30)
spaghetti (2)
tomatoes
cherry (15)
other (240)
peeled grape (1)
vegetarian bacon (1)
watermelon (2)
zucchini (50)
Again, these are approximations, so some may be wildly off, and I've probably forgotten some items, but it should give some idea.
One nice perk of this job is that since the food is that we can snack on anything we like. Did you know, for example, that plantains, while they are normally hard when used for cooking, if they start to go soft can be eaten raw like a banana?
Jim
I know Samuel Edward McConnel isn't starting the next facebook fan page for cauliflower, but I bet he (and anyone else for that matter) can find a few things here that they love. If you can't there's probably something wrong with your tastebuds. This is a list of all the things that I can remember handling through Fair Foods since I've been here. In parenthesis I've included a guess as to roughly how many cases we've handled.
almonds (30)
apple (3)
arugula (2)
asparagus (30)
banana (40)
basil (2)
beans
french (80)
string (20)
blackberries (20)
blueberries
dried (2)
bread (30)
broccoli (20)
carrots (10)
cauliflower (40)
celery (50)
cole slaw mix (10)
corn (1)
corn bread mix (2)
cucumber
regular (10)
english (15)
grapes (1)
honeydew melon (20)
kale (20)
kiwi (30)
lemon (2)
lettuce
iceberg (30)
loose leaf (70)
romaine (40)
shredded (10)
lime (1)
mango (2)
mushrooms (4)
onions
whole (40)
scraps (2)
orange (30)
papaya
large (25)
small (25)
peanuts (10)
peppers
yellow bell (140)
orange bell (30)
red bell (30)
plantain (50)
potatoes
jumbo (30)
other (300)
teeny tiny (10)
radishes (2)
raspberries (4)
rhubarb (1)
rutabega (3)
sage (2)
salad dressing (20)
strawberries (40)
soup mix (10)
soy nuts (1)
spinach (30)
squash
acorn (30)
spaghetti (2)
tomatoes
cherry (15)
other (240)
peeled grape (1)
vegetarian bacon (1)
watermelon (2)
zucchini (50)
Again, these are approximations, so some may be wildly off, and I've probably forgotten some items, but it should give some idea.
One nice perk of this job is that since the food is that we can snack on anything we like. Did you know, for example, that plantains, while they are normally hard when used for cooking, if they start to go soft can be eaten raw like a banana?
Jim
"Mommy"
Thursday
Since I've gotten here, we've been listening to *Hot 97 Boston* on the radio quite often. The announcers and ads have not stopped talking about the upcoming Univer-Soooouuul Circus since I've been here. There's one ad in particular that is especially annoying:
"Mommy! Mommy! Mama! Mommy! Mama! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mommy! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mommy! Mommy! Mama! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mommy! Mommy! Will you buy me tickets to the Univer-Soooouuul Circus?"
Whenever we hear this ad begin, we immediately change the station. Jason pointed out that while the Univer-Soooouuul Circus might be great, this just makes him want to get as far away from it as possible.
I thought this was an interesting analogy for Jason and Derrick's relation to the church. Both of them believe in God, but neither wants to have much to do with the church or organized religion. Jason has seen too many hypocritical Christians, and Derrick feels like everyone involved in the church is just too focused on money, like the church is a business.
Maybe the church is great, but some Christians make people want to get as far away from it as possible. Maybe we need to take a bit more to heart the words of that good ole song "They Will Know We are Christians by Our Love".
Since I've gotten here, we've been listening to *Hot 97 Boston* on the radio quite often. The announcers and ads have not stopped talking about the upcoming Univer-Soooouuul Circus since I've been here. There's one ad in particular that is especially annoying:
"Mommy! Mommy! Mama! Mommy! Mama! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mommy! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mommy! Mommy! Mama! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mommy! Mommy! Will you buy me tickets to the Univer-Soooouuul Circus?"
Whenever we hear this ad begin, we immediately change the station. Jason pointed out that while the Univer-Soooouuul Circus might be great, this just makes him want to get as far away from it as possible.
I thought this was an interesting analogy for Jason and Derrick's relation to the church. Both of them believe in God, but neither wants to have much to do with the church or organized religion. Jason has seen too many hypocritical Christians, and Derrick feels like everyone involved in the church is just too focused on money, like the church is a business.
Maybe the church is great, but some Christians make people want to get as far away from it as possible. Maybe we need to take a bit more to heart the words of that good ole song "They Will Know We are Christians by Our Love".
"Two For a Dollar"
Wednesday
Companies must hate having to dump this food, not just since it's good stuff, but it means some big chunks of change that they miss out on. Take the kiwi that we got today. There was a pallet of 120 boxes of 65 count golden kiwi. We could only fit 30? today, and we are hoping to pick up more tomorrow. We put about 6 in every bag, but we had so much that we simply gave a whole box to anyone who expressed interest in the kiwi and thought they could use that much. One lady got out of her car and said "Oh, no! Don't tell me." She had just bought kiwi in the store. Just for fun we asked her how much she paid. Remembering that stores have to make a profit, they would probably pay minimum $20 for a box. If we put half of that in the bags and gave half away in boxes, then we likely gave away $300 worth of kiwi just in the boxes, which is probably more than we made for the whole day. Kind of interesting to run the numbers.
Jim
Companies must hate having to dump this food, not just since it's good stuff, but it means some big chunks of change that they miss out on. Take the kiwi that we got today. There was a pallet of 120 boxes of 65 count golden kiwi. We could only fit 30? today, and we are hoping to pick up more tomorrow. We put about 6 in every bag, but we had so much that we simply gave a whole box to anyone who expressed interest in the kiwi and thought they could use that much. One lady got out of her car and said "Oh, no! Don't tell me." She had just bought kiwi in the store. Just for fun we asked her how much she paid. Remembering that stores have to make a profit, they would probably pay minimum $20 for a box. If we put half of that in the bags and gave half away in boxes, then we likely gave away $300 worth of kiwi just in the boxes, which is probably more than we made for the whole day. Kind of interesting to run the numbers.
Jim
"I'm Sorry We're Late"
Tuesday
We had a variety of different sorts of delays and hassles including some that I inadvertently caused. There is certainly a lot to take in about how this whole operation works, and I've made my fair share of newb mistakes trying to figure it out. Approaching everything with a good dose of humility can go a long way.
Jim
We had a variety of different sorts of delays and hassles including some that I inadvertently caused. There is certainly a lot to take in about how this whole operation works, and I've made my fair share of newb mistakes trying to figure it out. Approaching everything with a good dose of humility can go a long way.
Jim
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
"Case that Fell Off the Truck"
Monday
Consider this a post of at least 20,000 words.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/51213181@N06/sets/72157624287114344/
Jim
Consider this a post of at least 20,000 words.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/51213181@N06/sets/72157624287114344/
Jim
Sunday, June 13, 2010
"So You're a Lumberjack?"
Sunday
I went to Global Ministries Christian Church (GMCC) again this morning. This was my third Sunday morning there (I went last week, and once while I was out on Spring Break). This is the church that partners with The Boston Project Ministries (TBPM), the group I went on spring break with. Thus it is also the place where we slept during that week. I must say, I felt very white when I was there in March, but I didn't feel quite as white this week. That is, sitting in a pew full of almost all white kids, in an almost all black church, having just arrived from Calvin, a very white school, I felt hyper-visible. Now, having spent two weeks immersed in more ethnically diverse populations, it didn't seem so odd to me. That doesn't mean that I don't still stand out though. There are a handful of white folks that attend GMCC, but most of them seem to be related to The Boston Project. Thus after service today I was asked a few times if I was involved in TBPM.
After the service, I got to talking with a white guy there who was the former director of TBPM, and it turns out that we are both from Ohio! Wow! Amazing coincidence. Not impressed? Ok, try: he graduated from Calvin in '05 after living in Boer-Bennink for two years, followed by a year as an RA? I suppose he may actually be the reason that service-learning spring break trips from Calvin come to TBPM though, so I'll have to ask him more about that.
The neighborhood we live in is all black, except for Nancy's house. Nancy has lived here for 30 years, and when she moved in it was an all white neighborhood. She watched white-flight happen over the course of about three years, as all of her neighbors picked up and left after the first black moved in. It's not too far from here that there were race riots at schools just ten years ago. Our society still has a long way to go. When I was working on something out in the yard last week, Nancy was over with some of the younger neighborhood guys and they asked, "Who's that white kid?" Nancy told them that I was living with her, and that I was cool. All the neighbors around here know Nancy, and a good word from her goes along way, just like it did in the courtroom on Friday.
Today I was out in the yard working, and two little boys ran by, playing some game. One of them stopped and asked me what I was doing, and when I explained that I was splitting wood, he concluded, "So you're a lumberjack?"
Jim
I went to Global Ministries Christian Church (GMCC) again this morning. This was my third Sunday morning there (I went last week, and once while I was out on Spring Break). This is the church that partners with The Boston Project Ministries (TBPM), the group I went on spring break with. Thus it is also the place where we slept during that week. I must say, I felt very white when I was there in March, but I didn't feel quite as white this week. That is, sitting in a pew full of almost all white kids, in an almost all black church, having just arrived from Calvin, a very white school, I felt hyper-visible. Now, having spent two weeks immersed in more ethnically diverse populations, it didn't seem so odd to me. That doesn't mean that I don't still stand out though. There are a handful of white folks that attend GMCC, but most of them seem to be related to The Boston Project. Thus after service today I was asked a few times if I was involved in TBPM.
After the service, I got to talking with a white guy there who was the former director of TBPM, and it turns out that we are both from Ohio! Wow! Amazing coincidence. Not impressed? Ok, try: he graduated from Calvin in '05 after living in Boer-Bennink for two years, followed by a year as an RA? I suppose he may actually be the reason that service-learning spring break trips from Calvin come to TBPM though, so I'll have to ask him more about that.
The neighborhood we live in is all black, except for Nancy's house. Nancy has lived here for 30 years, and when she moved in it was an all white neighborhood. She watched white-flight happen over the course of about three years, as all of her neighbors picked up and left after the first black moved in. It's not too far from here that there were race riots at schools just ten years ago. Our society still has a long way to go. When I was working on something out in the yard last week, Nancy was over with some of the younger neighborhood guys and they asked, "Who's that white kid?" Nancy told them that I was living with her, and that I was cool. All the neighbors around here know Nancy, and a good word from her goes along way, just like it did in the courtroom on Friday.
Today I was out in the yard working, and two little boys ran by, playing some game. One of them stopped and asked me what I was doing, and when I explained that I was splitting wood, he concluded, "So you're a lumberjack?"
Jim
"Desmond Relative Time"
Saturday
I am learning more about Sabbath. God knows that we need rest, and thus he gives us the gift of the Sabbath. Working six days a week, is tiring, and it is wonderful to take a day for rest, reflection, and celebration. Jason is a very hard worker, and I'm not sure he remembers the last time he took a day off, and he works long days, six days a week, and sometimes Sundays. His sister's high school graduation party was today, and I tried to convince him during the week to let others run the sites, so that he could have a day off today, and get to her party on time at 3. He insisted on staying though, since, "It won't really start until 5." We did leave the last two sites a little early, so that he could go sooner, but he still worked the full day. Among other things we were giving away beautiful pre-packaged bell peppers, in plastic bags containing one orange, yellow, and red pepper. We got 64 cases, each with 10 bags today, and they will have more for us on Monday.
Jim
I am learning more about Sabbath. God knows that we need rest, and thus he gives us the gift of the Sabbath. Working six days a week, is tiring, and it is wonderful to take a day for rest, reflection, and celebration. Jason is a very hard worker, and I'm not sure he remembers the last time he took a day off, and he works long days, six days a week, and sometimes Sundays. His sister's high school graduation party was today, and I tried to convince him during the week to let others run the sites, so that he could have a day off today, and get to her party on time at 3. He insisted on staying though, since, "It won't really start until 5." We did leave the last two sites a little early, so that he could go sooner, but he still worked the full day. Among other things we were giving away beautiful pre-packaged bell peppers, in plastic bags containing one orange, yellow, and red pepper. We got 64 cases, each with 10 bags today, and they will have more for us on Monday.
Jim
Friday, June 11, 2010
"Live and Learn"
Friday
There's a first time for everything, and I had quite a few firsts today. First time in court, first time drinking coffee, and first time getting ripped off by fake lettuce.
In the morning, I was Nancy's chauffeur to court where she was one of two witnesses in a case involving a thirty-eight year old black male who had worked for her at Fair Foods in the past (the other witness being his partner). The fellow had been convicted of something more than ten years ago, but had stopped checking in with his probation officer about ten years ago. Thus there was a warrant out for his arrest. A while ago he told Nancy that there was a warrant out for his arrest, and they discussed it. They decided that she would write a letter and send it to the court. He was picked up about a month ago at a store, when during a random check he was asked for some ID, and he informed the officers that there was a warrant out for him. The fellow has five kids, and hasn't been in any additional trouble for the last ten years. Nancy says that if she, as a white woman, hadn't gotten involved he might have ended up with 3-6 years. As it was, prosecution asked for 18 months. By the way the judge was talking, it sounded like he might take 18 months, so it was a bit of a surprise when he announced only 60 days. 9 days that he has already served count towards that, and he may get about half time, so he might be back to his family within a month. Nancy was ecstatic. If it really is true that having a white person vouch for you makes a bigger difference than a black person, then that is disgusting.
At the second site today we were brought two iced coffees with some cream and sugar. Since it was given to me, I decided I would drink it. Tasted the way Dannon coffee yogurt tastes, which is to say, Dannon coffee yogurt must actually taste a little like coffee. If I have coffee again some time I'd like to try it black, just so I know what it tastes like on its own.
Our third site on Fridays is right on a busy road. In one car that was sitting, waiting for the light to change, the kid in the passenger seat flagged me down with a bill. After giving him his $48 dollars in change and a bag of produce, I came back in the van, and Jason told me to check and make sure it was real. I now know both that it is general Fair Foods policy not to accept fiftys and Benjamins, and why. If you were looking at it closely, it was easy to see that it was counterfeit, but it was just not something that had ever crossed my mind. Well, this is my first job where I deal with money on a regular basis. At least nobody was too worried about it. After all, as Jason said right afterwards, "It's only money."
Jim
There's a first time for everything, and I had quite a few firsts today. First time in court, first time drinking coffee, and first time getting ripped off by fake lettuce.
In the morning, I was Nancy's chauffeur to court where she was one of two witnesses in a case involving a thirty-eight year old black male who had worked for her at Fair Foods in the past (the other witness being his partner). The fellow had been convicted of something more than ten years ago, but had stopped checking in with his probation officer about ten years ago. Thus there was a warrant out for his arrest. A while ago he told Nancy that there was a warrant out for his arrest, and they discussed it. They decided that she would write a letter and send it to the court. He was picked up about a month ago at a store, when during a random check he was asked for some ID, and he informed the officers that there was a warrant out for him. The fellow has five kids, and hasn't been in any additional trouble for the last ten years. Nancy says that if she, as a white woman, hadn't gotten involved he might have ended up with 3-6 years. As it was, prosecution asked for 18 months. By the way the judge was talking, it sounded like he might take 18 months, so it was a bit of a surprise when he announced only 60 days. 9 days that he has already served count towards that, and he may get about half time, so he might be back to his family within a month. Nancy was ecstatic. If it really is true that having a white person vouch for you makes a bigger difference than a black person, then that is disgusting.
At the second site today we were brought two iced coffees with some cream and sugar. Since it was given to me, I decided I would drink it. Tasted the way Dannon coffee yogurt tastes, which is to say, Dannon coffee yogurt must actually taste a little like coffee. If I have coffee again some time I'd like to try it black, just so I know what it tastes like on its own.
Our third site on Fridays is right on a busy road. In one car that was sitting, waiting for the light to change, the kid in the passenger seat flagged me down with a bill. After giving him his $48 dollars in change and a bag of produce, I came back in the van, and Jason told me to check and make sure it was real. I now know both that it is general Fair Foods policy not to accept fiftys and Benjamins, and why. If you were looking at it closely, it was easy to see that it was counterfeit, but it was just not something that had ever crossed my mind. Well, this is my first job where I deal with money on a regular basis. At least nobody was too worried about it. After all, as Jason said right afterwards, "It's only money."
Jim
"Bobriñe"
Thursday
Today was a slow day at the market, but we got a lot of zucchini or 'Bobriñe'! I should point out that my first day at the market, being Memorial Day, was a bit atypical of how we ordinarily operate. While there is a lot of food that goes into the dumpsters, ordinarily we don't need to pull anything out of dumpsters. There are perhaps forty companies that operate at the market. The market consists of four main buildings laid out in two parallel lines (http://www.terminalmarkets.com/neweng.htm). On the inside of these two lines there are over one hundred loading sites. Some are permanently occupied by tractor trailers that have been converted to storage facilities, and others are in a constant state of flux as shipments come and go on 18 wheelers. There are no definite lanes or traffic control rules inside the market, some of the vehicles are large and some small, some going forward, others in reverse. Because of all this, at times the market is the closest thing I have ever seen to a live version of the traffic jam game where you have to slide the red car out. While there are dumpsters around, some aren't very conveniently located to some of the companies, so many employees simply chuck garbage off the edge of the dock and onto the ground. It is no wonder that we have already picked up three nails in our tires since I have been here. Up on the docks, many of the workers are latino, they are almost exclusively men, and everyone seems to be hard at work. You have to keep your wits about you, as there are pallet jacks loaded with onions, strawberries, melons, or any one of a hundred different fruits and vegetables (and some fungi too) zipping by at top speed. We push through the flap doors, find the go-to guy at that particular site, and see how he responds. Many times it's, "Not today fellas" and we assure them that we will be back again tomorrow. Sometimes they do have a few cases or a pallet for us though. The reasons are as varied as the pallets fruits and vegetables we get. Some of it is surplus. Some of it is the wrong size (we get potatoes that are too big, and potatoes that are too small). Some of it is byproducts (we get the outer stalks of celery from celery hearts). Some of it is moldy (we get trays of beef steak tomatoes where just one or two are growing mold). Some of it is ripening too fast (we get bananas that are ok today, but would be bad by the time they are sold (several days from now) since we can sell them the same day). Some of it has outward blemishes (we get oranges that are flat on one side or have too many spots on the peel). Some of it doesn't live up to its name (we get vine-ripe tomatoes that are no longer on the vine). Anything that would make a product unsaleable in the supermarket can lead to us getting it. The companies are actually happy to give us the food though, as we act as a free disposal service for some of their waste that they would otherwise be paying someone to dump.
Today we got 3 papaya, 8 banana, 8 plantain, 30 lettuce, 3 potato, 3 orange, 1 celery, 37 zucchini, 9 tomato, 3 mushroom, and 1 onion. What can one person do with 37 zucchini? Not much. What can a bunch of people with a van who see lots of people in a given day do? Stuff three good zucchini in each two dollar bag, sell dollar boxes of good zucchini, give away a lot of free, slightly damaged zucchini, give some to Agnailu to compost, and save the rest for tomorrow (each of these methods took about 1 fifth of today's zucchini, and we got it all off of our hands!). Rick claims that Jason's favorite word is saying zucchini in Spanish, and Jason doesn't deny it.
Jim
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
"Right"
Wednesday
This morning I was at the market with Uncle George, an old-timer who helps out at the market sometimes and has been running a site since Fair Foods started. Uncle G. is a veteran of three wars, drives an old navy blue chevy pick-up whose glove-box opens every time you hit a bump too hard, and wears a ball cap with his Silver Star patch sewn on the front. I think he's about 85, and a little hard of hearing. Today we were driving and he asked Richard if we should turn left or right, Richard said "Left." and Uncle G. repeated back to him "Right." While we were picking up a few cases of oranges from the orange man, we came back out of the building to see Uncle G. had whipped out a can of blue spray paint and was keeping the hood looking good. Uncle George still comes out and does his thing, pitching in where he can, offering his abilities as a driver and as someone who can run a site. He met Nancy when she started Fair Foods since he worked on some of her vehicles. Although there is currently just a big van and a mini-van, there used to be two big box-trucks, and there have been several other iterations of vehicles as well. It's just great to see the wide range of people who are willing to help out. Nancy was telling me that a while ago the father of a fellow she knew from a different country (I forget which) passed away. She wanted to get a plane ticket so that he could go home for the funeral, and she told Uncle George that she needed $700 more. He went inside and about 15 minutes later came out with the balance. Nancy talks about unconditional love sometimes. I've certainly seen many acts of love since I've been here.
This morning I was at the market with Uncle George, an old-timer who helps out at the market sometimes and has been running a site since Fair Foods started. Uncle G. is a veteran of three wars, drives an old navy blue chevy pick-up whose glove-box opens every time you hit a bump too hard, and wears a ball cap with his Silver Star patch sewn on the front. I think he's about 85, and a little hard of hearing. Today we were driving and he asked Richard if we should turn left or right, Richard said "Left." and Uncle G. repeated back to him "Right." While we were picking up a few cases of oranges from the orange man, we came back out of the building to see Uncle G. had whipped out a can of blue spray paint and was keeping the hood looking good. Uncle George still comes out and does his thing, pitching in where he can, offering his abilities as a driver and as someone who can run a site. He met Nancy when she started Fair Foods since he worked on some of her vehicles. Although there is currently just a big van and a mini-van, there used to be two big box-trucks, and there have been several other iterations of vehicles as well. It's just great to see the wide range of people who are willing to help out. Nancy was telling me that a while ago the father of a fellow she knew from a different country (I forget which) passed away. She wanted to get a plane ticket so that he could go home for the funeral, and she told Uncle George that she needed $700 more. He went inside and about 15 minutes later came out with the balance. Nancy talks about unconditional love sometimes. I've certainly seen many acts of love since I've been here.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
"Just Two Sir"
Tuesday
This morning I went with Nancy to the food pantry at 4th Presbyterian Church. After people were finished inside the church they many of them came over and picked up a two dollar bag of fresh produce from us. Today we had the bags filled with potatoes, one onion, a big tomato, a bunch of bananas, some romaine heart lettuce, a grapefruit, and celery. Folks could also pick up plantains if they wanted any. There was a kid named Nick, probably about 14 years old, who was there helping out with the food pantry, who has been there helping out for some time. Nancy insisted that he take me in and give me a tour of the system so I would know what they were doing. It was interesting to compare the two systems. Nancy used to just give away food, but at some point a minister stopped her, and led her to believe that that dehumanized the people who were receiving the food. Some folks who could use the food wouldn't be caught dead in a line asking for a handout, but will gladly pay for it (albeit at a greatly discounted price). At the food pantry the folks who were working seemed to be fairly suspicious of those coming in. After passing through the registration table, people were convereted into a number written on a small scrap of paper, representing how many people are in their household. Throughout the rest of the line the workers would watch strictly to make sure that no one took more than their number allowed. One worker even condescendingly commanded one of the people on the other side of the table to put her passport away while going through the line (which she had had out for identification) so that she wouldn't lose the passport.
Now I don't mean to bash the food pantry. These are good folks doing good work. And they do need to make rules about what people can and can't take so that the food is fairly distributed. We do the same thing, in that we often won't sell people what they want, even if we have it, since we want to fairly distribute our food. That is one of the several uses of the word fair that inspired the name Fair Foods. We often get requests for a dollar's worth of of onions, bananas, oranges, or tomatoes, which we have to turn down, even though we might have enough to do it. This is because when we have one of these items high in demand but low in supply we want everyone to get some, so we put a limited quantity in each two dollar bag.
But there did seem to be a different approach and attitude at the food pantry. It seemed very 'us and them', formulaic and institutional. Watching Jason interact with Fair Foods customers is incredible, as it is very relational. He knows many of the customers by name. He is always trying to pick up a few more words or a new phrase in some language. We haggle and try to get people what they want, swapping items out for different fruits or veggies that they prefer if it isn't too busy. We don't check ID. We sell to anybody. We eat the food that we are selling. When I offered a bag to one woman this morning she told me, "Oh, no. I work here at the pantry."
Upon seeing one of our customers haggling with Nancy, Nick questioned why she would do this, expressing to me a "beggars can't be choosers" mentality. From what I learned from my interim class though, this mentality makes the problem harder to solve. My interim class was West Michigan Food Systems, and one day we took a field trip to the Feeding America Food Bank. We heard from the director of the food bank there who has done tremendous work with getting companies to donate the food that they can't use. He has analyzed many different kinds of food distribution systems. The ones that are the least helpful are those that simply assume that everyone needs to get x, y, and z, and put the same thing into every pre-made basket, rather than letting the people who are going to eat the food have a say.
Speaking of food banks (and this isn't a Josh Uitvlugt transition), Fair Foods has had an interesting relationship with the Boston food bank over the years. They used to work together, and Fair Foods simply acted as the produce arm of the Food Bank. However, differences in ideology caused them to split. They wanted to put Nancy on the board of directors, and pay her 80,000 a year. She told them to pay her 30,000 a year, and to put the extra 50,000 in Fair Foods budget. She also suggested that maybe some of the top, well-paid executives of the food bank (6,000ish a week anyone?) who are supposed to be interested in feeding people should do similarly. Well, that was the end of that relationship. So the Food Bank currently has a large multi-million dollar new building purchased by the city, while Fair Foods operates out of loading docks 7 and 8 at the Maxwell Flea Market building, and is trying to get a letter on the mayor's desk asking the city to waive the rent on the recently repossessed building (the city owns the Maxwell Flea Market Building).
Well, I apologize for the bit of a rant, but I am just trying to pass along some of my thoughts, which include some of the frustrations that Fair Foods goes through, that I do hear about.
This morning I went with Nancy to the food pantry at 4th Presbyterian Church. After people were finished inside the church they many of them came over and picked up a two dollar bag of fresh produce from us. Today we had the bags filled with potatoes, one onion, a big tomato, a bunch of bananas, some romaine heart lettuce, a grapefruit, and celery. Folks could also pick up plantains if they wanted any. There was a kid named Nick, probably about 14 years old, who was there helping out with the food pantry, who has been there helping out for some time. Nancy insisted that he take me in and give me a tour of the system so I would know what they were doing. It was interesting to compare the two systems. Nancy used to just give away food, but at some point a minister stopped her, and led her to believe that that dehumanized the people who were receiving the food. Some folks who could use the food wouldn't be caught dead in a line asking for a handout, but will gladly pay for it (albeit at a greatly discounted price). At the food pantry the folks who were working seemed to be fairly suspicious of those coming in. After passing through the registration table, people were convereted into a number written on a small scrap of paper, representing how many people are in their household. Throughout the rest of the line the workers would watch strictly to make sure that no one took more than their number allowed. One worker even condescendingly commanded one of the people on the other side of the table to put her passport away while going through the line (which she had had out for identification) so that she wouldn't lose the passport.
Now I don't mean to bash the food pantry. These are good folks doing good work. And they do need to make rules about what people can and can't take so that the food is fairly distributed. We do the same thing, in that we often won't sell people what they want, even if we have it, since we want to fairly distribute our food. That is one of the several uses of the word fair that inspired the name Fair Foods. We often get requests for a dollar's worth of of onions, bananas, oranges, or tomatoes, which we have to turn down, even though we might have enough to do it. This is because when we have one of these items high in demand but low in supply we want everyone to get some, so we put a limited quantity in each two dollar bag.
But there did seem to be a different approach and attitude at the food pantry. It seemed very 'us and them', formulaic and institutional. Watching Jason interact with Fair Foods customers is incredible, as it is very relational. He knows many of the customers by name. He is always trying to pick up a few more words or a new phrase in some language. We haggle and try to get people what they want, swapping items out for different fruits or veggies that they prefer if it isn't too busy. We don't check ID. We sell to anybody. We eat the food that we are selling. When I offered a bag to one woman this morning she told me, "Oh, no. I work here at the pantry."
Upon seeing one of our customers haggling with Nancy, Nick questioned why she would do this, expressing to me a "beggars can't be choosers" mentality. From what I learned from my interim class though, this mentality makes the problem harder to solve. My interim class was West Michigan Food Systems, and one day we took a field trip to the Feeding America Food Bank. We heard from the director of the food bank there who has done tremendous work with getting companies to donate the food that they can't use. He has analyzed many different kinds of food distribution systems. The ones that are the least helpful are those that simply assume that everyone needs to get x, y, and z, and put the same thing into every pre-made basket, rather than letting the people who are going to eat the food have a say.
Speaking of food banks (and this isn't a Josh Uitvlugt transition), Fair Foods has had an interesting relationship with the Boston food bank over the years. They used to work together, and Fair Foods simply acted as the produce arm of the Food Bank. However, differences in ideology caused them to split. They wanted to put Nancy on the board of directors, and pay her 80,000 a year. She told them to pay her 30,000 a year, and to put the extra 50,000 in Fair Foods budget. She also suggested that maybe some of the top, well-paid executives of the food bank (6,000ish a week anyone?) who are supposed to be interested in feeding people should do similarly. Well, that was the end of that relationship. So the Food Bank currently has a large multi-million dollar new building purchased by the city, while Fair Foods operates out of loading docks 7 and 8 at the Maxwell Flea Market building, and is trying to get a letter on the mayor's desk asking the city to waive the rent on the recently repossessed building (the city owns the Maxwell Flea Market Building).
Well, I apologize for the bit of a rant, but I am just trying to pass along some of my thoughts, which include some of the frustrations that Fair Foods goes through, that I do hear about.
"Four out of Four"
Monday
The word of the day is 'scarpetta'. I don't know if I spelled it right, but I think it is Italian. The word captures and codifies the idea of Maxwell house coffee's "Good to the last drop" into one word. 'Scarpetta' refers to the act of taking a piece of bread and using it to clean out the remainder of the container that the food was cooked in, so that none will be wasted, and as a compliment to the chef. Mary (Jason's girlfriend who helps out on occasion, and is around somewhat) cooked us a chicken with sweet potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots in and around it, and we scarpettaed that pot like crazy. We had four fully loaded pieces of bread, and we decided that was the basis for the scale.
The word of the day is 'scarpetta'. I don't know if I spelled it right, but I think it is Italian. The word captures and codifies the idea of Maxwell house coffee's "Good to the last drop" into one word. 'Scarpetta' refers to the act of taking a piece of bread and using it to clean out the remainder of the container that the food was cooked in, so that none will be wasted, and as a compliment to the chef. Mary (Jason's girlfriend who helps out on occasion, and is around somewhat) cooked us a chicken with sweet potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots in and around it, and we scarpettaed that pot like crazy. We had four fully loaded pieces of bread, and we decided that was the basis for the scale.
Monday, June 7, 2010
"Doing God's Work"
Sunday
I had a good conversation with Rick, the tenant on the first floor, this morning. He is a sporadically employed, middle aged, gay man with curious movie tastes, who will manage to describe the plot of at least one film in eighty percent of the conversations he is involved in. While some of them are classics from the 60s or earlier, many of them are horror or obscene. He is always trying to convince Jason to watch something with him, and Jason is always politely declining (though they may do a little switcheroo where Rick listens to some of Jason's music, and Jason watches something with Rick). Rick posts ads on craigslist, and finds jobs other ways too, so he walks dogs, acts as an art model, scrubs toilets, and puts in some time at Fair Foods. This morning we got to talking about religion a little bit, and Rick was telling me why he left the church when he was fourteen. Besides differences in belief about sexuality, he just saw too many hypocrites in the church. People who called themselves Christians and played up the Sunday act, but weren't living differently. He saw them living their lives against church teaching, and got fed up with it. He also said that reading broadened his perspective. He says that he still has a lot of respect for religious people though, and that if it helps them then that is great.
He made what I found to be a very interesting comment, which I will paraphrase as closely as I can remember: "I say this as a self-proclaimed atheist: You're doing God's work here."
I had a good conversation with Rick, the tenant on the first floor, this morning. He is a sporadically employed, middle aged, gay man with curious movie tastes, who will manage to describe the plot of at least one film in eighty percent of the conversations he is involved in. While some of them are classics from the 60s or earlier, many of them are horror or obscene. He is always trying to convince Jason to watch something with him, and Jason is always politely declining (though they may do a little switcheroo where Rick listens to some of Jason's music, and Jason watches something with Rick). Rick posts ads on craigslist, and finds jobs other ways too, so he walks dogs, acts as an art model, scrubs toilets, and puts in some time at Fair Foods. This morning we got to talking about religion a little bit, and Rick was telling me why he left the church when he was fourteen. Besides differences in belief about sexuality, he just saw too many hypocrites in the church. People who called themselves Christians and played up the Sunday act, but weren't living differently. He saw them living their lives against church teaching, and got fed up with it. He also said that reading broadened his perspective. He says that he still has a lot of respect for religious people though, and that if it helps them then that is great.
He made what I found to be a very interesting comment, which I will paraphrase as closely as I can remember: "I say this as a self-proclaimed atheist: You're doing God's work here."
Saturday, June 5, 2010
"Ya Hear Me?"
Saturday
Now for a little on my lodging. It is Nancy's house that I am staying at, an old three story house, that had a massive fire in it many years ago. Nancy has rebuilt the house, though much of it is still in disarray. You know those people that have tons of things in different unorganized piles but know exactly where everything is? This house isn't like that. There are random things all over the house, but as many people as have come in and out of the house over the years, a lot of the junk is unaccounted for. On the first floor what might have been the family room has been converted into a woodshop. In the back is a two-room apartment that Rick stays in, and on the side is a kitchen and a living room with a piano. The second floor has an office, and a sort of an apartment with a common space and two bedrooms, one of them being mine, and Nancy lives upstairs (I haven't been up there yet). Everywhere are books and screws and pennies and scraps of hardware and tools and pieces of furniture. Five cats and a small dog roam the house. The basement is another woodshop, and all around the outside of the house are piles of lumber that Nancy uses for the benches that she builds to put around the city (Seats of Consciousness), and other wood projects. When I get a chance I try to arrange or fix up bits and pieces of the space (it really wasn't until Wednesday that I had finished moving into my room.
Today I took a break after the first delivery site, so I got home around 2:30. Nancy had a project for me though; she is building a clubhouse fort for the Riddles' kids (2 and 5). She had me put the back and roof on, then build a ladder on the side, build a seat inside, put the front on, add a top to the roof, cover the windows, then move lumber, dismantle a large wooden crate, and denail the boards. Time off isn't time off if Nancy knows you're around.
Jim
Today I took a break after the first delivery site, so I got home around 2:30. Nancy had a project for me though; she is building a clubhouse fort for the Riddles' kids (2 and 5). She had me put the back and roof on, then build a ladder on the side, build a seat inside, put the front on, add a top to the roof, cover the windows, then move lumber, dismantle a large wooden crate, and denail the boards. Time off isn't time off if Nancy knows you're around.
Jim
"I'm Having a Food Baby"
Friday
Today I went to Edy's.
While it was technically the second time, last time we were in a rush, so it didn't really count. Edy is one of our lovely Cape Verdian farmer friends who enjoys taking our compost and keeping her friends well fed. Jason, his girlfriend Mary, and I stopped by at the end of a long day to deliver a load of compost, and she and her husband invited us in to eat. First she gave them each a Heinekin, and me a ginger ale, then brought out the cauliflower/squash/meat soup (made from Monday's haul of cauliflower). This was followed by fish, and chased with a plate of rectangular samosa-like items. Then she brought out plantain fritters.
Edy wouldn't take full for an answer, insisting that we finish the items. Between the three of us we ate everything but half of the soup, which was enough of an appeasment, though I'm sure she would have preferred if we had polished that off, too. Edy is just an overwhelmingly generous person, and I look forward to interacting with her further, even if our communication is limited.
Time to sleep so we can get a nice 5:45 start tomorrow!
Jim
Today I went to Edy's.
While it was technically the second time, last time we were in a rush, so it didn't really count. Edy is one of our lovely Cape Verdian farmer friends who enjoys taking our compost and keeping her friends well fed. Jason, his girlfriend Mary, and I stopped by at the end of a long day to deliver a load of compost, and she and her husband invited us in to eat. First she gave them each a Heinekin, and me a ginger ale, then brought out the cauliflower/squash/meat soup (made from Monday's haul of cauliflower). This was followed by fish, and chased with a plate of rectangular samosa-like items. Then she brought out plantain fritters.
Edy wouldn't take full for an answer, insisting that we finish the items. Between the three of us we ate everything but half of the soup, which was enough of an appeasment, though I'm sure she would have preferred if we had polished that off, too. Edy is just an overwhelmingly generous person, and I look forward to interacting with her further, even if our communication is limited.
Time to sleep so we can get a nice 5:45 start tomorrow!
Jim
Thursday, June 3, 2010
"Come Into My World"
Four times today people shared their food with me. The dock workers gave us one of their pepperoni pizzas this morning, At our second site someone brought us some Italian subs, at the last site one of the restaurants gave Jason and I Vietnamese subs and seasame balls for dessert. Then dropping off the days compost with our Cape Verdian friend on the way home, we were blessed with some delicious fish, beans, and rice for dinner. You may have noticed the variety of nationalities that were represented here. Boston is a very diverse community, with Cambodians, Hatians, Cape Verdians, Bengali, Brazilians, Chinese, Vietnamese, Polish, Russian, Portugese, Italians, and Lithuanians just to name a few. Jason speaks a little of about half of these, at least enough to haggle. Having studied Spanish all these years it is finally really coming in handy. Turns out that with Spanish I can sort of get by in Portugese and Cape Verdian for free. The different cultures lend not only to language differences, but also to differences in food preferences. At some sites, depending on the predominant nationality, we may get more requests for lettuce, potatoes, mangoes, or perhaps onions. The differences in preference help us too, since if we have a large variety, we can usually find someone who will want just about anything that we are offering.
Some folks buy a whole load of lettuce for a big salad. Some folks only want the prettiest vegetables since their kids are picky. Some folks don't mind taking the worse looking tomatoes since they are making sauce. Some folks will take a load of vegetable waste since they need it for compost. Some folks are glad to sort through a bin of slicers (potatoes chopped in half by processing machinery) to find the easiest ones to cut up for home fries. We try to find a use for everything, but without all the incredible people we work with none of this would be possible.
Jim
Some folks buy a whole load of lettuce for a big salad. Some folks only want the prettiest vegetables since their kids are picky. Some folks don't mind taking the worse looking tomatoes since they are making sauce. Some folks will take a load of vegetable waste since they need it for compost. Some folks are glad to sort through a bin of slicers (potatoes chopped in half by processing machinery) to find the easiest ones to cut up for home fries. We try to find a use for everything, but without all the incredible people we work with none of this would be possible.
Jim
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
"Optimism is a Good Disease"
There may be no such thing as a free lunch, but after three days here I have still received a lunch we didn't make ourselves every day. The generosity shown to Fair Foods is tremendous. Monday the neighbor Miss Jacobs brought us some macaroni salad, yesterday we got a vegetable dish at one of the sites, and today, a lady at one of the sites brought us chips and hot sandwiches.
Nancy tries to take care of as many people as she can, but neighbors are always given priority. We routinely bring home some of the scarecer items and spread them around the neighborhood, as well as giving away two dollar bags or anything else they may need.
There is also a bit of a bartering system, as the mechanics and other folks who work with us love getting some fresh vegetables. Yesterday we picked up a pair of nails in the driver side tires of the small van, and the mechanics plugged them for a few cases of tomatoes and strawberries.
Today we left for the market at twenty after seven, and brought back a full load with the big van of potatoes, celery, oranges, strawberries, radishes, and plenty more. After dropping that off at the warehouse, we loaded up the van to the max with a load of pre-made mixed bags and a many cases of other fruits and vegetables to include on the side or mix and match, this included the remainder of Monday's cauliflower. We came back at the end of the day with an empty van but for a few cases of the cauliflower (since we had so much we had been giving cauliflower away for free). And at roughly two dollars a bag we had brought in $264.62 to help pay the bills.
In the morning I was at the market working with Derek and Richard, the other two full time workers this summer besides Jason and myself. Derek and I got into a discussion over optimism. Derek and Richard are both from around these parts, and have spent most of their lives right around here. Derek doesn't think that we can really do anything to change or improve the world, to make it a better place. I explained that I do think change can happen if slowly. Of course this world can never be a perfect place, but I don't believe that that should stop us from loving our neighbors and encouraging them to do likewise, as Jesus did. The conversation continued back at the warehouse while Jason was around, and as we went to sites in the afternoon he told me that such a pessimistic attitude is quite common around here, and that while he remains optimistic, after doing this for several years, his optimism has diminished.
Thoughts or comments are welcome, of course!
Jim
Nancy tries to take care of as many people as she can, but neighbors are always given priority. We routinely bring home some of the scarecer items and spread them around the neighborhood, as well as giving away two dollar bags or anything else they may need.
There is also a bit of a bartering system, as the mechanics and other folks who work with us love getting some fresh vegetables. Yesterday we picked up a pair of nails in the driver side tires of the small van, and the mechanics plugged them for a few cases of tomatoes and strawberries.
Today we left for the market at twenty after seven, and brought back a full load with the big van of potatoes, celery, oranges, strawberries, radishes, and plenty more. After dropping that off at the warehouse, we loaded up the van to the max with a load of pre-made mixed bags and a many cases of other fruits and vegetables to include on the side or mix and match, this included the remainder of Monday's cauliflower. We came back at the end of the day with an empty van but for a few cases of the cauliflower (since we had so much we had been giving cauliflower away for free). And at roughly two dollars a bag we had brought in $264.62 to help pay the bills.
In the morning I was at the market working with Derek and Richard, the other two full time workers this summer besides Jason and myself. Derek and I got into a discussion over optimism. Derek and Richard are both from around these parts, and have spent most of their lives right around here. Derek doesn't think that we can really do anything to change or improve the world, to make it a better place. I explained that I do think change can happen if slowly. Of course this world can never be a perfect place, but I don't believe that that should stop us from loving our neighbors and encouraging them to do likewise, as Jesus did. The conversation continued back at the warehouse while Jason was around, and as we went to sites in the afternoon he told me that such a pessimistic attitude is quite common around here, and that while he remains optimistic, after doing this for several years, his optimism has diminished.
Thoughts or comments are welcome, of course!
Jim
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
"Taking Care of Business"
This is the end of day two at Fair Foods. You can skip ahead to the next paragraph if you already know what Fair Foods is, but read on if you haven't seen Fair Foods in action, heard me explain it, or would simply like a better explanation (which I can give after spending just two days here). There is a large shipping center for produce (known as 'the market') here in Boston that has a lot of food that would ordinarily be wasted. In the morning, every day the market is open, Fair Foods collects as much surplus as they can, and takes it back to their warehouse. At the warehouse, the food is stored, and made up into mixed bags loaded with whatever produce is currently available. These bags are taken to various sites around Boston where they are sold for two dollars each.
So far, I have met tons of great people: housemates, neighbors, workers, volunteers, market workers, and customers. I plan to go into more detail about the people I've met later. For now though, I'll tell you what I've been up to since I got off school.
After exams finished, I had the pleasure of helping the rest of my RA staff kick everyone out of the dorm. Once everyone was gone, and we were exhausted, I had to kick myself out. Upon finding myself out-kicked, I headed home to Ohio. Not only were my parents home, but my grandparents on my father's side were there, and so was my sister. I had a wonderful, though altogether too brief time visiting at home, playing games, unpacking, packing for Boston, hitting some tennis balls, and generally soaking up the love that I am so blessed to be drenched in from my family. Then, I hit the road for the second time, this time going out to Maryland. There I arrived just in time for my cousin's college graduation, and again had a wonderful time visiting with aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents on my mother's side; playing Wii, Uno, and a little more tennis; and going out to eat spaghetti with mushrooms, Chinese vegetables, and Slurpees (though at separate meals). Now back into the car for the third leg of the journey. I arrived in Philly and was greeted by my brother. I was able to make a few deliveries (like a bike!), and we went for a terrific run in Fairmount Park, the largest Urban Park in the US. After sharing some girl scout cookies, I headed off Sunday morning (unfortunately the pre-order tickets for the techno show in NY we had planned to go to were sold out), and finished the fourth leg of my trip up to Boston.
Monday was memorial day, but that didn't mean a holiday. Jason (currently the main heart of the program (though Nancy is the founder)), and I went out to the market, where a few places were open for business. These businesses work in such huge quantities that when a shipment is slightly lower quality than they had wanted, when there is a delay on a pick-up, when they are overstocked, or when any one of a hundred different things goes wrong, these businesses are inclined to dump pallets and pallets of perfectly good food into the dumpster. In fact, as we walked into the tomato place, the boss jumped up and ran around the corner shouting at some of his workers to stop, since they were about to dump 12 cases of tomatoes and the boss thought we would be off for memorial day. Since many of the businesses were closed for Memorial Day, we went to our next tactic, rooting through the dumpsters. The cauliflower place must have been overstocked, for they had filled two regular sized dumpsters (think business place, not construction site size) to the brim with still wrapped, perfectly good heads of cauliflower. We grabbed a stack of onion bags out of a nearby dumpster, and saved as many as we could use. Since Uncle George showed up with his pickup, we had a minivan, a car, and his pickup. The big van was in for repair while they welded one of the shocks back on.
The produce includes: potatoes (of many sizes and colors), tomatoes (of many sizes), lettuce, bananas, apples, plantains, celery, summer squash, oranges, grapefruit, onions, and cauliflower, to name only what I have seen so far.
For every one of these products, and really any produce you can think of, literally tons of this food is going straight into the dumpster every single day. I have heard that only half of the food that is grown in our country actually gets eaten, and this is easier for me to believe every day.
Today I got to go to distribution sites, but more on those later as well. Internet is spotty here, and so is free time, so I don't know how regular this will be, but I will try to keep it updated (not usually this long though, I promise), including photos eventually.
Jim
So far, I have met tons of great people: housemates, neighbors, workers, volunteers, market workers, and customers. I plan to go into more detail about the people I've met later. For now though, I'll tell you what I've been up to since I got off school.
After exams finished, I had the pleasure of helping the rest of my RA staff kick everyone out of the dorm. Once everyone was gone, and we were exhausted, I had to kick myself out. Upon finding myself out-kicked, I headed home to Ohio. Not only were my parents home, but my grandparents on my father's side were there, and so was my sister. I had a wonderful, though altogether too brief time visiting at home, playing games, unpacking, packing for Boston, hitting some tennis balls, and generally soaking up the love that I am so blessed to be drenched in from my family. Then, I hit the road for the second time, this time going out to Maryland. There I arrived just in time for my cousin's college graduation, and again had a wonderful time visiting with aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents on my mother's side; playing Wii, Uno, and a little more tennis; and going out to eat spaghetti with mushrooms, Chinese vegetables, and Slurpees (though at separate meals). Now back into the car for the third leg of the journey. I arrived in Philly and was greeted by my brother. I was able to make a few deliveries (like a bike!), and we went for a terrific run in Fairmount Park, the largest Urban Park in the US. After sharing some girl scout cookies, I headed off Sunday morning (unfortunately the pre-order tickets for the techno show in NY we had planned to go to were sold out), and finished the fourth leg of my trip up to Boston.
Monday was memorial day, but that didn't mean a holiday. Jason (currently the main heart of the program (though Nancy is the founder)), and I went out to the market, where a few places were open for business. These businesses work in such huge quantities that when a shipment is slightly lower quality than they had wanted, when there is a delay on a pick-up, when they are overstocked, or when any one of a hundred different things goes wrong, these businesses are inclined to dump pallets and pallets of perfectly good food into the dumpster. In fact, as we walked into the tomato place, the boss jumped up and ran around the corner shouting at some of his workers to stop, since they were about to dump 12 cases of tomatoes and the boss thought we would be off for memorial day. Since many of the businesses were closed for Memorial Day, we went to our next tactic, rooting through the dumpsters. The cauliflower place must have been overstocked, for they had filled two regular sized dumpsters (think business place, not construction site size) to the brim with still wrapped, perfectly good heads of cauliflower. We grabbed a stack of onion bags out of a nearby dumpster, and saved as many as we could use. Since Uncle George showed up with his pickup, we had a minivan, a car, and his pickup. The big van was in for repair while they welded one of the shocks back on.
The produce includes: potatoes (of many sizes and colors), tomatoes (of many sizes), lettuce, bananas, apples, plantains, celery, summer squash, oranges, grapefruit, onions, and cauliflower, to name only what I have seen so far.
For every one of these products, and really any produce you can think of, literally tons of this food is going straight into the dumpster every single day. I have heard that only half of the food that is grown in our country actually gets eaten, and this is easier for me to believe every day.
Today I got to go to distribution sites, but more on those later as well. Internet is spotty here, and so is free time, so I don't know how regular this will be, but I will try to keep it updated (not usually this long though, I promise), including photos eventually.
Jim
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)