Where is the home for the angry?

Wow. I'm really in the writing mood. We'll see how long this lasts once I start writing papers for school again. But for now I guess I have a lot to say :)

I've been volunteering at a maternity shelter, which provides housing for women who are pregnant and homeless. The goal of the program is to cure homelessness in these women, giving them the opportunity to start school, find a job, and learn how to be good mothers. It's a pretty remarkable and necessary program considering emergency shelters can be unsafe, unsanitary, and unstable places to be pregnant.

Anyway, I have many roles at this shelter - they are constantly in need of another set of hands, another gentle voice (haha) to answer the phone. One of the most challenging tasks for me has been conducting telephone interviews with women who are in need of housing. And this week's interviews were particularly difficult.

I had to turn down two women in a row because they had anger problems. Since this shelter offers housing, education, food, counseling, and opportunities for spiritual growth at no cost to the residents, it naturally receives many calls each week from women in need. There are enough applicants without anger problems that the staff will quickly reject one if they see even the hint of an "attitude."

But I can see why these two women were angry. Both had been abandoned by their boyfriends, fathers, and most male figures in their lives; they had grown up in poverty and likely experienced racism both overtly and indirectly. All of the sudden they find themselves pregnant and responsible for another life without any support from family or the father of the baby; oftentimes they fought parents who had encouraged them to get an abortion. After jumping around from a friend's house, to a run-down motel, to a homeless shelter, to the streets they are pretty frustrated, desperate for a safe, nurturing home for their child. Not to mention all the crazy hormonal things that go on for women when they're pregnant.

No wonder these women were so angry at me when I told them that the program wouldn't be a good fit for them. No wonder they demanded to know why. No wonder they became even more elated when I explained to them that their self-proclaimed anger problem would not do well in our intrusive group setting. One woman cried "well, don't you guys have counseling or something?" Yes, of course we do. And she could probably benefit from it - maybe even more than some of the women we are accepting in the program. But I didn't tell her that. I told her that that didn't matter anymore, she had already eliminated herself from the pool of applicants. I asked her if I could give her a referral to another maternity shelter.

Of course, we all knew that no other maternity shelter would take her for the same reasons we wouldn't. So I don't know if she will ever have the opportunity for counseling to work through her anger. I don't know if she will find a safe place to have her baby. I don't know how her baby could grow to be a healthy adult, who can learn to love him/herself and care for others.

We need something more.

Compassion

This morning I woke up early and drove to the beach, just north of Will Rogers. The fog was still resting on the surface of the blue-gray water, as I watched a sea lion bob across the shore. I jumped into the chilly water and let the cold soak into my skin.

I'm re-reading the book Compassion by Henri Nouwen and, once again, blown away by the intense and challenging call of Jesus as explained by Nouwen.

It seems that in today's culture we are constantly trying to prove to one another and to ourselves that we are valuable - that we are worthy, interesting, important, intelligent, funny, precious, beautiful, lovable. I find myself doing this all the time: in my interactions with my professors, when I meet new people, when I justify my actions and beliefs, when I update my facebook profile. I am fighting to prove that I am an interesting person, that I am unique, that you should want to get to know me.

Henri Nouwen, who left his professorship at Yale Divinity to live among the mentally disabled, reminds us:

"As long as our primary concern in life is to be interesting and thus worthy of special attention, compassion cannot manifest itself" (67).

This yearning for social acceptance (or recognition) gives us the sense that we have control over our lives, that everything improper and uncomfortable "can be kept outside the walls of our self-created fortress" (63). But from within this controlled atmosphere, how can we have compassion on those who are suffering? How can we realize solidarity with someone's pains when we are so focused on maintaining our own comfort?

The Gospels call us to a life of voluntary displacement - living intentionally in places of discomfort. Not because God wants us to suffer. Not because we want to be all non-comformist and "stick it to the man." But because Jesus lived in compassion with (translated literally from the Latin "suffering with") those in pain. It is only when we step outside ourselves, beyond our comfort zones, can we truly experience and express God's compassion.

Nouwen writes that "in voluntary displacement, we cast off the illusion of 'having it together' and thus begin to experience our true condition, which is that we, like everyone else, are pilgrims on the way, sinners in need of grace" (64).

So now I'm wondering, what does this mean for me and my life right now as a UCLA grad student. As Nouwen posits, this doesn't mean that we all need to give up our jobs and families and live among the poor, but rather ask ourselves "How can I come to understand and experience God's caring actions in the concrete situation in which I find myself?" (72)

Where do I feel displaced, alone, abandoned, out-of-touch?

How is God calling me into these places, and how do I experience his love more deeply there?

This passage is very challenging to me...

God

A voice says "Cry out."

And I said, "What shall I cry?"


"All men are like grass,

and all their glory is like the flowers of the field.

The grass withers and the flowers fall,

because the breath of the Lord blows on them.

Surely the people are grass.

The grass withers and the flowers fall,

but the word of our God stands forever...


He tends his flock like a shepherd;

He gathers the lambs in his arms

and carries them close to his heart;

he gently leads those that have young."



I think this is such a beautiful image. Isaiah paints this grand picture of God as so large and powerful and majestic - I love the image of us being grass which eventually withers and is blown away by God (yikes! its kind of frightening!) However, at the same time, Isaiah gives another description of God as a gentle shepherd, tenderly caring for his flock, carrying them close to his heart.

Can you imagine? Regardless of what you believe about God or religion, I think that we all have some sort of mysterious longing for a God like this - who is bigger than all our problems (all the world's problems), and yet is gentle enough to hold us.

Blog Redefined

I've decided I want to become a blogger. I like the idea of having a space where I can write my thoughts on life, or intelligent commentary on current events, or tell funny stories that make everyone wish they were my friend (mostly that last one).

Possible problems:
1. This means I have to actually come up with interesting pieces that people would actually want to read - I think in some ways I've inherited the Bunnell family super power to bore people to death, which could makes things difficult.

2. For some reason, I set my blog site to have Italian language settings, meaning I only have a vague understanding of what I'm clicking. But actually this makes blogging more exciting. For now, the Italian is staying.

3. This site was originally used for my semester abroad, so it still has all these vestiges from Rome, like the title and the quote, and even the template is kind of European-themed. Those will have to go.

4. I'm now realizing that I may have set the bar too high for this blog already. Rather than writing "intelligent commentary" or waxing poetically, I'll probably just have a bunch of shout-outs to friends and the results from my latest internet quiz (according to the Animology quiz I'm an Ocre and Gray Dolphin, my soul mate is the Bronze Goat, and I hate the Peach Pig.)

Ok. All problems aside, I do want to give this a try. For now I will continue to get this baby fired up for its magnificent release into the world of blogs.

Venezia baby!

Here are some hopelessly thought-provoking photos I took of Venice:


I call this one "man in boat"


St. Mark's Cathedral in the fog



detail of the architecture on a less-foggy day


the obligatory photo of solitary gondalas


Looking across the Grand Canal from the island of St. George

L'ultima settimana!

Believe it or not, I'm nearly done with my semester in Rome. Dio mio!
The last couple weeks have been particularly busy.
Now I'm swimming in final papers, exams, and projects, but hoping that I will find some time to say a proper goodbye to my favorite city EVER!
(BTW this post is pretty lacking in the grammar and coherency departments due to my lack of free time)

Anyway, the party officially started November 25 when the parentals arrived in our fair city Roma. Here's a photo of them looking especially autumnal on Ponte Palatino over the Tiber River. In the background to the right is the Aventine Hill, where my campus is and their hotel was.



We, of course, did huge amounts of touring. But it was really wonderful to spend time with other people who really appreciate the history and art of Rome - plus my parents are pretty fab if you haven't had the pleasure.

Below is an awkward picture of me in front of my internship site: La Biblioteca Corsiniana dell'Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei - a pretty big name for which I perfected the art of pretending I was busy and competent in Italian.



This is the candy stand at the Christmas market in Piazza Navonna. Ah, to be young again!


Lights of the Christmas market behind the Piazza Navonna fountain


St. Peter's and the Tiber River all lit up


This past Saturday night, a group of friends and I went to our first Italian soccer game. Wow. Those Italians don't mess around with their calcio (that's soccer for all you non-Italians.)
Below are the fans presenting their banners and singing the anthem of the Roma team, pretty inspirational.


Celebratory flares were all over the stadium making it smokey for pretty much the whole game. Yay fire hazards!


We won! Which was really good since there was already a unit of armed guards between us and the opponents since they charged at us after making the first goal.


One other cool thing I did this past weekend was go to the HUGE and I really mean GINORMOUS flea market at Porta Portese in Rome. Seriously, this place has everything you could ever want (and more) for sketchily low prices. So I had a fun time walking around with my friend Maggie, while she took some pretty photos of the busy, crowded scene... until someone reached into her pocket and stole her camera! I know, its horrible! And the worst part was I essentially saw it happen, but it was all too fast for me to realize that someone had actually stolen her camera until like 2 seconds afterwards, and by then whoever did it was successively hidden in the crowd. The best part was an Italian lady consoled Maggie later saying "Don't worry! Just go to Porta Portese next week and you can buy it back!"

This week was my last tutoring session with Francesca. I learned with her that teaching (and learning) English is ridiculously difficult - seriously, there are way too many irregularities and inconsistencies. I'm so grateful I learned English as my first language. But we did have fun. Here's a silly picture of us.


While working on my Italian project I noticed this fantastic sunset. Mi mancherai Roma.

Rome Resurrected!

Note: I just got back from Venice (will post soon!), and have been meaning to post this thing about Rome for a while... so slightly late, but oh so worth the wait.

Anyway, I have been quite busy! For the most part, a good kind of busy.

The whole "study abroad" thing is certainly an experience. Strangely enough, I think I'm learning a lot just by being in a program with East Coast prep school kids. Sometimes I feel like the California culture is a lot more similar to the Italian than it is to the East Coast...

But for the most part, I'm trying to get in there and experience the Italian culture. So things I have been up to:

- classes: I actually spend a lot of time in these (15 hours a week!) - but that's alright because for 12 of those hours I am led by a native Roman with a pHD on walking tours to the city's churches, ruins, museums, archaeological sites... mmm, its beautiful!

-internship! I'm still working at the library for the Accademia dei Lincei, doing very basic office work. Its actually kind of frustrating because I'm the only non-Italian there, so my language abilities, and thus social and intellectual abilities are pretty low. Languages are tough. I feel like I can communicate fairly well, but there's no way I can jump into their conversations, or even answer their questions without asking them to speak slower, or what a certain word means. Its rough but one of those things that I'm sure I'll appreciate when I am done.

- Also a couple weeks ago I started tutoring Francesca, a 9 year old Italian girl in English! This is really good for my Italian too - but a lot more fun! She is so cute, and I really enjoy the challenge of trying to make lessons interesting. We do lots of singing, game playing, and drawing - she thinks I'm wonderful, what more do I need in the world?

-Then, of course, the independent adventures throughout Rome must continue... some photos from a few of these below. Unfortunately though, research papers and approaching final projects have made these times less frequent :(


Capitoline Hill



Appian Way - I took a day trip here, 30 min outside the city center. For an ancient road it was pretty scary to walk down, as you can see by the narrow roadway, lack of sidewalk, zooming cars, and high walls surrounding. This only further proves that Caroline likes to live on the edge.


Sunset over the Jewish Ghetto (where the word "ghetto" originated - now its not a ghetto in the typical American sense of the term) - the squarish tower on the left side is the local synagogue.


Catacombs of S. Sebastiano, S. Callisto, and S. Domitilla were along the Appian Way. I went to the catacombs of S. Callisto.


I went to a free sacred choral music concert in the church of S. Igazio. This is the church of the founder of the Jesuit order, St. Ignatius. It is quite ornate!


Forum at night


Renaissance Tempietto designed by Brancacci. This is up on this beautiful hill called Gianicolo on the West side of town.


In South Rome, I visited some of the sites nearby. This is the pyramid of Cestius Gaius during the reign of Caesar Augustus when there was what historians call "Egyptomania" in Rome. Next door is part of the Roman walls created toward the decline of the Empire to keep out those darn barbarians!




Sunset over Via del Corso


Pantheon


The Protestant cemetery is nearby also, and has a number of famous Romantic poets, writers, and composers. Here is one of my favorites: Percy Bysshe Shelley.


And I finally gave in and bought one of those obnoxious Euro puffy jackets with fur... which I love!!! I wear it around in my room when I'm doing homework, or out on the town, or going to class! It works for all occasions!


Anyway, in conclusion: I really love Rome. A lot.

Of course there are things and people I miss about home, California, Oxy, America, but I'm trying my best to" live in the moment" and appreciate this ridiculously amazingly fantastic opportunity I have to study in Rome.

A dopo!

Barcelona!

Barcelona was the first stop on my week-long expedition some call Fall Break. In a word I would call this city vibrant: lots of bright colors, strange architecture, creative street performers, and good food.

Towards the end of my week I went on an architectural walk, with the help of my handy-dandy guide book. I found that Barcelona has this interesting combination of Gothic streets and churches from the Middle Ages next to extremely modern and creative complexes from the 20th century.

This is the cathedral La Sagrada Familia, designed by the big dog of the modernistas Antoni Gaudi.

Some funky architectural elements on the cathedral.


An apartment complex by Gaudi






Market continues outside of a Gothic church


The stark white contemporary art museum is nestled between "old world" apartment buildings with colorful laundry out the windows.



traditionalism vs. modernity - aww it sounds like an Occidental humanities paper!


Skateboarders take over the museum's plaza after hours.


Speaking of tradition... I was wandering around the Barric Gothic in Barcelona when I happened upon a large group of Barcelonans practicing the local Catalan dance the "Sardana." It's one of those cutesy circle dances where they all hold hands and kick their feet in the air. I kind of wanted to join in but held myself back. Here are some photos of the pros:





the hot band keeping it funky fresh...









One of the cool things about Barcelona is their open markets. There are several throughout the city as well as vendors along the main street La Rambla. Here are some photos of the two:



Mercat de la Boqueria





Note the pig's head.



Good times.

Paris Holds the Key to My Heart!

So I definitely was singing that song the whole time I was in Paris. Unfortunately there weren't any other hardcore Anastasia fans in my group so it was often just a solo performance.

Anyway, after arriving Wednesday morning from our 6am Ryanair flight (meaning we had to get up at 2:30am to catch it), and taking a well-deserved nap, we decided to go for a walk around the city. Without knowing it, my Dad's genes resurfaced and I ended up taking the friends on a "death march" around Paris. (For anyone familiar with Paris: we started in the Latin Quarter, walked by Notre Dame, then to the Louvre, then down Champs-Elysees, across the river by the Eiffel Tower, and all the way back to the Latin Quarter along the Seine... basically circling central Paris and then some)

Despite the fact that I made lots of enemies that night, I had a good time wandering around and seeing how beautiful Paris is at night. Still working on my night photo skills...

The Louvre and pyramid.

The Eiffel Tower

Then one morning I got up early and climbed the North Tower of Notre Dame Cathedral! What a beautiful view! I took tons of photos of the gargoyles too, because I'm cool like that.

Sun peaking out behind Notre Dame

South end of Notre Dame and River Seine

More quasi-aerial photos of Paris:

On to the Gargoyles:

mmm... tasty

... looming over the square

is he vomiting?

The pensive, sentimental one - isn't he cute?

Then one night I went to a classical music concert in the church of Sainte Chappelle with amazingly beautiful blue stained glass windows. The concert was great too - they played lots of recognizable songs which made it more fun (some Mozart, an Ave Maria, you know the drill)

I spent some time wandering around the gardens in front of the Louvre called Jardin de Carrousel...

Yes, I guess this is an act of vanity. But I really like the green-grass background and I was having fun playing with my camera settings (right Caroline.)

Lots of garden time in Paris. I also went twice to Luxembourg Gardens which was closer to our hotel. It really is a phenomenal place - very refined though (no sitting on the grass allowed, everyone sits on chairs NEAR the grass.)

See? Its just begging for a romantic walk. Unfortunately, Josh wasn't there for me to torture.

So I wanted a photo of me walking through the garden, but I didn't want to ask someone because that would be weird. So instead, I walked back and forth along this path taking photos of myself - definitely less weird Caroline!

more of the garden:

Au revoir Paris!

There are many many more photos, and countless more stories, but this will do for now :)