hot showers are special

I never imagined I would live in a place where taking a shower would be a legitimate topic of conversation that could carry the conversation for several minutes, nor that getting a hot shower would be cause for congratulation and small celebration. It is common that at any meal one may bring up the fact that they successfully had a hot shower that day, or bemoan that the water was not hot. Discussions of the best times to take showers, how many people one must share the hot water with, and informing others of one's intention to shower in hopes that the water is hot are all commonplace. 

Nor had I imagined that I would live in a place where I could hike up the side of a mountain for an afternoon walk. Watching the clouds gracefully envelop the mountain tops, seeing the precipitation change between rain and snow multiple times in a day, as if quite uncertain what to be. Being so close to the snow line, so that I can see the snowy trees just a couple hundred feet above us when all we got was rain.

I finally am settling into the rhythms, being comfortable here, and wondering what it will be like to go out and come back in. The snow has melted significantly, and is back to what I can imagine as normal amounts of snow (with my gauge for that being Minnesota, so take it as you will). Small trees are reappearing, and several other things have also emerged that I never knew were hiding under the snow. Entrances to most buildings are once again near ground level. I have seen more birds. Spring is nearer, though still, it seems, a little uncertain about making a full appearance.

We seem to have survived March madness, which apparently plagues the village this time every year with cabin fever and the twitchies. I have had the opportunity to do a lot of reading lately, which has pleased me immensely. The library here is larger than I imagined it would be, and there are many things to choose from.

The mine remediation people are beginning to trickle in, and it won't be too long before that season is in full swing and the village will take on a very different character.

I suppose this isn't all too poignant, but a brief update for you, since I don't have my own computer and the internet is super slow, which makes it hard to write here very often.

and still it snows

I could never truly have imagined this much snow. It has snowed at least 140" since I arrived here, and the snow is 81" deep, which means there are small trees buried under snow, and I have walked over them without even knowing it. Today is a stop day, which means the village comes to a halt as much as possible. It is a nice relaxing day in many ways, and I'm using the time to catch up on my introvert needs. It is still snowing, on and off all weekend, and I'm waiting for the sun to come out again. The sun has now made it over the top of the mountain Buckskin, which we celebrate here in the village by having a party, as it means (when we see the sun) there are several more hours of direct sunlight. The party was in the street, with music, dancing, and food grilled outside, and people dressed in all sorts of crazy outfits, including beach type clothes, never mind that it was around 35 degrees out. The importance of sunlight was something I discovered in Minnesota, but I have been reminded even more starkly here, as I have been here more than 3 weeks and may have seen full sunlight about 6 days. It really does make a difference on mood and health.
Living in community like this is fascinating, and in some ways like having a big extended family. You see the same people all the time, share space and food and work with them, as well as germs, as colds spread rapidly and can take out half the village in any given number of days. Everyone helps with the basic work of the village, like cleaning dishes and taking out and sorting garbage and keeping stairs and paths cleared of snow. Staff all have different stories and reasons for coming here, but I've been intrigued by the many variations of the same tune, namely uncertainty about where else to be in life (though a secondary tune is those who do not ever live in one place more than a few years and are often international teachers, going from school to school, country to country, and mission to mission).
The unreality of the reality of life here also often strikes me, as it is difficult for most to imagine that I do not just have bad cell phone reception, but that my phone actually says No Service (and said so halfway through the boat ride). And the internet is too slow for Skype or streaming. It hearkens back to dial up days in terms of speed. To explain that one has to travel down the mountain on a road that has to be cleared of feet of snow and has often been obscured by avalanches, then catch a boat that only runs three days a week, seems impossible to many these days. The boat company has a contract to bring us our mail, but UPS and FedEx do not accept that address, so an imaginary one that leaves packages with the boat company had to be created. Driving to a second stop on the boat route is possible, but when the mountain passes to get there are closed due to snow we don't always get all of our food orders. I've been told the closest emergency room is 4 hours away, but I don't know what kind of travel is required to get there.
There is a lot of grace to live in a place like this, a lot of sharing and patience required. We manage to get along quite well in spite of these things, but it also makes me think of the limitations that have been placed on us here to maintain an extra level of isolation that may or may not still be useful. For example, it is possible to have television here, we just don't. Some of the isolation can help one consider the necessity of all the things we have back in the 'real world', and give greater clarity to true usefulness and simple creature comfort. It is definitely an exercise in simplicity, and that could be useful to many these days.

living in the mountains

I have moved to a mountain village for approximately 6 months. It is a new experience, both in terms of scenery and activity. Any window in the village I look out of has a view of mountains. Snow has fallen nearly nonstop since I arrived, stacking inches upon inches and making it so that paths are carved through the snow between buildings, with snow walls on each side gradually getting higher. To leave a path means stepping in snow up to the knees at least. Trees and buildings are covered with it, and when it snows the mountains are obscured so that the village sits in a snow globe, isolated from the world. Places where snow has slid off roofs and joined what's already on the ground leave buildings half buried in drifts. The sun only makes it over the tops of the mountains for a few hours a day (when it's not snowing).
Hot water for showers is only available during the day most days; the rest of the time it's lukewarm or cold. There is less power now that the water is half frozen because the village uses a hydroelectric plant. So when the village is full, there is less power to go around and the potential for power outages. Many things have been unplugged to conserve power for the winter. Some of the trails have risk of avalanches when there is fresh snow, but there are still places to explore, either by walking, snowshoeing, or skiing.
The community is full of people from various places and life stories, with many different talents. Everyone eats together and nothing is locked. Buildings are always open and we did not get keys to our rooms. People constantly come and go, visiting, volunteering, or headed out of the village to get a break or use technology. We have staff internet, but it is slow.
The mountains hold a majesty and mystery, and sometimes it still seems unreal that I am living in a place nestled in mountains. To get in and out is quite an affair, and not to be taken lightly. So care is taken to make the place safe and enjoyable. It will be interesting to see the place after the snow melts, though, to find out what things look like and what might be buried under snow that I haven't even seen yet.

entertaining angels

Today was kind of an off day. So on my way out of town, I decided to stop and get gas at the station I usually stop at, rather than one down the road a ways, though I had originally intended the latter. My windshield was dirty from the tree I'd been parked under, so while I filled the tank I cleaned the back and front windows. In cleaning the front window, I realized there was some fresh sap on the front windshield that I wanted to get off, so I went back and grabbed a paper towel and started cleaning it off. I was almost finished when a woman called 'hey sweetheart', and proceeded to ask if I would be able to buy her some gas. I asked how much she needed, and she said whatever I could give her.
Now, running through my head briefly were all the safety concerns, the worries about being conned or finagled or whatever. But she wasn't asking for money, but gas. So she pulled up to the pump, and I pumped some gas into her vehicle for her. She got out and chatted with me while I did this, telling me she was taking her kids (who were in the car) and all her stuff (apparently also in the car, she said) (there was also mention of her husband, but I think I missed what it was), and was headed to stay with her mom for a while til she could get a fresh start.
I'm not much for small talk; as an introvert it's not really something I find very natural. But after a moment of pause, she suddenly said, "Some people say life sucks. But I think it's really what you make of it. It's what you do with it that matters." This kind of caught me off guard a bit, but I told her she was right.
I finished putting some gas in her car, wished her luck, and she drove off. I got back in my own car, and drove off, thinking about the whole thing. Thinking about how I almost didn't stop at that gas station today. How, if I hadn't had sap on my windshield, I would've already been gone before the woman came by. I don't know how many others she had asked before me. I don't know how much of the story she told me was true. But it doesn't really matter. It was a moment to imagine the best in someone, to do a good deed in hopes that it was a good deed and might make a difference for someone, or several someones. An opportunity to live out hope for humanity. Something I hope I never stop doing.

the devil in the kitchen

Both their cars were gone, but the door was unlocked, which was not unusual.

"Welcome home," the stranger greeted her as she entered the kitchen.

"Who let you in?"

"The door was open."

"What do you want?"

"Just checking in. Have to make my rounds, you know."

She scowled, but had no reply. She knew he was closer these days.

"You're starting to warm up to me."

"Not because I want to. You're not welcome here."

"Have it your way. Nice seeing you again," he said with a slight smirk, and he was gone. She thought she detected a hint of smoke where he had been, and a faint acrid odor.

She shook her head to clear it. Can't let it get to me, she thought. I won't go that far.

She went to her room, set down her keys, and came back to find something to eat.

the American ...nightmare

Why can I not use strike through in the title? How frustrating. Here's what I wanted the title to be: the American dream nightmare.
Was that hard? no. but I couldn't do it in the subject line. sigh.

Why has the American dream always come at the cost of someone else's American dream? Why do so many little dreams get squashed by big dreams? Why do we run around trampling one another in the name of profit and the stock market? Why do the big corporations have to compete over so many different things. Why can they not leave some market niches to others? Why does Walmart even have a bakery? And while the big guys duke it out, a thousand little guys are scrambling around trying to avoid getting stepped on, just trying to scrape by.

Who even invented the idea of an American dream? American daydream, maybe.

Thoughts on retail

I find myself once again working retail, despite my many desires to the contrary. I was getting desperate to have some income, and my desperation coincided with this store's desperation for new employees, so I got a job. It does not offer a good wage, however. It also is, overall, not a very good quality of employment. I only have one other retail experience to compare it to, so I can't make broad generalizations, but this is worse than my previous retail experience. The pay is worse, the company seems much more 'parental' in an unhelpful way, and, as a coworker said today, "if we wasn't poor we wouldn't work here." Many of my coworkers have second jobs, and at the same time, the automated scheduling program gives less hours when a person is less available, which is meant as incentive to be more available, but sometimes is just troublesome.
How do you get really inexpensive products at the store? People working there don't get paid enough to live on. The employee has to buy shirts of a certain color to wear (I suppose, at least, that buying them at the company also means one shirt only costs about the same as an hour's pay), though employees used to wear any color and put on a vest or apron as a work uniform. I imagine this changed so the company could save that money. You almost have to shop there if you work there bc you could hardly afford anything else. And yet the company tries to create a family experience and seem family friendly. Which may be well and good except that it seems to me more like a ploy to deny the idea that if they really supported people with families they would pay them a living wage.
There are nice people that I work with, and some of the managers even seem nice, though I don't quite understand why some stay working there so long and seem happy about it. But then again, maybe it's partly because they've drunk so much of the kool-aid. My department manager said the other day to me that people really shouldn't expect much more money for a position like the one I have, bc it's not so much work and doesn't require much ability. I argued for the standard of a living wage regardless of the work required. I also wonder if the company would need as many 'parental' policies if they paid people more.
I have a friend who would often talk about not being paid enough to care. At first I didn't understand, because I thought any good and moral person should always care, no matter what compensation they receive. But now I understand. If you're paid so little that you have to work another job to make ends meet and work way over the standard 40 hours a week, that pay is not incentive enough to use too much of your valuable energy. When your pay for one hour's work is less than many meals at a restaurant, the return on an investment of hard work and concentration is negative. When a nice cup of coffee costs more than you get for half an hour's work, that's not much of a reward for a hard day.
Because this is not a glowing endorsement I can't tell you where I work (you say something too bad and you could lose your job at most of these places), and this is not meant to tell anyone where to shop or not shop, but as a consideration: many cashiers are not paid enough to be nice to mean customers, and many other associates are not paid enough to pick up after you when you randomly stick something on a shelf bc you decided you didn't want it after all. Really, many retail associates aren't paid enough to fake cheerfulness when they're having a bad day, so you might should hope for common courtesy (or try it yourself) in those cases. Theoretically giant retail has helped the consumer, but there are a lot of casualties along the way.