Ails, Lucas, Jamacian Jarritos and Cowboy Boots

Sitting in my bed in Boston seems unfitting after a week of sharing a room with sixteen other people, in sixteen other cots,  whom I have grown to care about a great deal. You never truly know a person until you can mimic the snort they make when they laugh. Or, until you can impersonate their gestures, catch phrases and love-able nature, the kind that makes strangers offer them a ride on the back of their "hog". Or, until you've rubbed aloe gently on their sunburnt back and tossed a bottle of Advil across the room to them to help them cure an ail or two. Over this week I have achieved each of the aforementioned accomplishments and more. Over this week, seventeen acquaintances came together and smiled their way through piles of donated clothes, dirty storage sheds and unwashed trays.  The motion of the Florida ocean swept us through schools, childcare centers, elderly communities, markets, shops, beaches, shelters, soup kitchens, festivals and a home with friendship in the title and a huge yellow sign in front that highlights the words safe place.

When I woke up on Friday morning I had a feeling the next forty eight hours would be full of varying emotions but there was hardly time to slow down and feel them. We woke up early, rubbed the sleep out of our eyes and headed out for our service both vans traveling together to our work  for the first time. Houses of all different colors marked our path to the final school we visited on Friday, one expressly for  the children of migrant farm workers. There we got to work. I mustered up my garage cleaning skills and reorganized a storage shed at the back of the school with some others from the group. The most difficult part of the task was ignoring the small tricycles with seats just large enough for me to squat and peddle and an impressive collection of Dr. Seuss books stowed away in boxes. But, faster than you could say one fish two fish red fish blue fish, and we were rolling a stand full of folding chairs back into the shed and shutting the doors on all the work we had done there. The next person who opened those doors would be able to reach boxes of toys and books and poster boards that were before hidden from view, inaccessible and worthless until they were uncovered and each given their place.

Nap time ensued for the little kids as we quietly gulped down peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I gripped a box of cheeze-its tightly and watched the teachers rub their students backs softly until they fell asleep. Our group from Emerson surely did their best all morning to wear the little tots out enough to make this task as easy as possible for the teachers. They seemed appreciative of our efforts as the children fell asleep one by one on the floor almost as close to one another as our sixteen cots positioned us. One teacher in a flowery dress offered us a handful of Lucas, a spice made of salt, sugar, chile and lime, popular in the area. This spice left no taste bud behind. The way the sensations worked together reminded me of the diverse personalities in our group. Our sweet intentions met the sour situation of the farmworkers  in the area with a sort of twang that only Emerson students can supply creating the kind of taste that cannot be forgotten or ignored. 

But after a long day, my head was pounding and my stomach churned, so I broke off from the group and wished them well as they headed out to an after school program in the park nearby. Four hours later I woke up on a couch in the Immokalee Friendship House feeling better and ready for dinner. After dinner, team Florida shared glances across the table and several of us gathered as inconspicuously as possible into the kitchen to huddle around a giant cake. Happy Birthday Rolonda and Grace! Newly, twelve year old Rolonda broke into a full smile as she cut the first pieces of her cake and gripped the leg of one of our cots, swinging it as hard as she could as a pinata version of the Tasmanian Devil groaned under the intensity of her blows. Grace, a member of our group and newly twenty laughed into Magdalena's video camera, "My wish was that Suzanne would make my birthday card. And it came true."

The drops of rain falling outside were not enough to get us down. We all climbed into our vans, Rolonda, her Mom and Alan, another friend from the shelter were happy additions to our group. From there we drove just down the street to the Immokalee Harvest Festival to try our luck at riffle, dart and ball games and feel the southern wind in our hair as we zoomed around in the Ring of Fire, bumper cars and the ferris wheel. 

Rolonda was a blur. Gripping Emily's hand, she danced from one ride to the next, laughing the whole time and dancing around in front of me and Alan who whispered in my ear, "I think this is the most fun that little girl has had in awhile."

I fell asleep that night with a my little pony stuffed animal at my side, named Hinton thanks to my new friend and confidant and one of our faculty advisors Suzanne, whose carnival game skills won her three stuffed new friends. 

At night I dreamt up a template for how the next day would go. We would grab our bags, have one final group reflection, mop the bathroom and our bedroom for the week and we would drive the two hours to Tampa to glide back to Boston looking down on the clouds below us the whole way. What I never could have dreamed was how thankful I was to have sunglasses the day we left to cover up my watery eyes from the sunshine, but mainly from the reality that today was the day we were leaving our new friends behind with the weight of a new responsibility on our shoulders. I wondered if our emotions from the week would be too heavy for a plane to carry. Just in case we needed to lighten our load, I let a few moments of sadness spill from my eyes as I hugged Ron (one of the shelter managers I had come to care for), Rolonda,  Alan and others goodbye. And as we pulled away, Suzanne shouted out the window, "We're leaving our hearts here, so take good care of them" and from the look on Ron's face I knew that each person at that shelter did indeed inhabit a special place within me, not quite a home with four walls but something that could still weather many storms. 

Beth 

An Alternative to Alternative Spring Break

Today was beach day, a time to relax and reflect. Naturally, we started off the morning with as delicious a breakfast as possible; eggs mixed with peppers, pancakes and fried plantains. Then, we were on our way to Lover's Key, a relaxing resort and quaint state park recommended by our friend, the shelter manager John Bianco. 

And then, the plans changed. After looking for an area with more stores and better access to food, we landed on a busy beach in Florida in the middle of spring break. Music played, a porch with a pool in front became a stage for a show featuring Michael Jackson impersonators, firemen, the village people (a glittery Indian being the my personal favorite) and, of course, large men in thongs. Nothing that we expected happened on this beach. Older women and younger women danced their way into the show as beaded necklaces were thrown to the crowd. It was the mildest and frankly, strangest display of controlled wildness I had ever seen.

In the midst of it all, several of us managed to get some sun on the beach (perhaps too much, some of us are looking a bit red), some rented wave runners (my first time),  some read books and all of us laughed at the spectacles around us. It was more fun than I can say to be there for the day. But imagining being there for a whole week made me cringe. If this is what people consider a stereotypical spring break then I want nothing more than an alternative. 

Beth 

The Only Shelter in Collier County Florida

Sticking to our recent trends, today we again broke into two groups. Both groups met for breakfast and then myself and seven others headed over to Eden Elementary a local public school, that we discovered had opened just this past August. There we were each assigned a classroom (pre-k through first graders) and we worked as teacher's aids, preparing decorations for the classrooms, reading aloud, planning lessons, assisting with the students questions and of course learning as much as we could about the school. 

The remaining nine ASBers went to the Guadalupe Soup Kitchen, a sister organization of the Guatalupe Church and childcare center. The reappearance of the Guadalupe name only served to remind us how closely knit the community of Immokalee is, an understanding that was only reinforced by the trip to the soup kitchen. There, the students had the pleasure of meeting Tricia, a woman who made an appearance in the documentary we saw when we first arrived, Immokalee USA. It was nice to know that the faces of poverty here appear in huge roles for the solution to poverty as well. And, accompanied with an understanding of the dignity and respect that any member of a community deserves, the volunteers at the kitchen served their patrons not in an ordinary assembly line, but instead responding to their needs by running refills over to them and assuring that everyone is well fed and comfortable, for the moment. 

Our service ended at two o'clock, just in time to head over to Saint Mathews House, the umbrella organization that the Immokalee Friendship House partnered with in recent months. The shelter there was very different from what we have come to know. It was larger, with a grassy patch and a heart shaped garden in the middle. The kitchen and pantry were full of food and seemed constantly busy, our group of seventeen ducking around the people staying there and working there while we received a tour of the facilities. Midway through the tour, Emily raised a question, the answer of which was a shocking point for the entire group. And, despite having a say to mull it over, it is still upsetting that as a result of her question we learned that in a county twice the size of Rhode Island we were standing in the only shelter in Collier County Florida. 

Shout out to Mrs. Penny and all other loyal readers of this blog.

Beth 

A strange fruit and some delicious icing

It has been a long day and as the week goes on each day gets progressively longer. Today one group stayed back at the shelter to mop, do some chores and help out at the shelter's thrift store one building over. The remaining 12 of us hopped in our vans and headed over to the Guadalupe Childcare  Center where we did our best to help the teachers there with their lively but loveable students. 

On the dinner menu tonight was some beef, veggies (the highlight being some delicious sweet corn and mashed potatoes!) and, of course a delicious cake made by our very own Sasha Brown. I think the students who were able to help out preparing the dinner found it to be a highlight of the day and perhaps even the week.  

Many more culinary treasures to come, check back tomorrow!

Beth 

Esa nina es roja

Today we woke up in the morning, rolled straight out of bed and got to work planning our day. 

I am starting to associate the mornings here with the faint smell of sunscreen. But today, our group broke into two smaller ones and it was the other group who had to prepare for a day outside raking in the dirt. They went to an elderly community nearby and did yard work to improve the cleanliness and most importantly the aesthetic of the building. For the people living inside, the work seemed much appreciated. The group returned with smiles and the communities requests for more volunteers to plant flowers during the week. 

The group I was with went to the Immokalee Childcare Center just down the street from the shelter. So far, in fact, most of our service has been done within walking distance of the shelter. The proximity seemed a simple convenience at first but after playing with infants, toddlers and kids quickly approaching school age, it became obvious that Immokalee truly understands the old adage, "it takes a village to raise a child." One of the teachers told us she worked at the center for 25 years, long enough to change the diapers of two generations. 

After the service day winded down we spent some time in the park and took a drive just down the street to a farmer's market nearby. I have never bought an apple so large and so yummy as the four I eagerly grabbed at the market for just 2 dollars. What is commendably cheap for us is unaffordable for the workers here and yet without them, the largest and yummiest apples in the world would never come to me, in my bag or in my belly. 

Beth 

It's Always Sunny in Immokalee

    It has officially been 24 hours in Immokalee Florida and it is time for a seven hour snooze fest. We're sleeping in one big room on cots on the floor but they are comfortable and we are tired from a day in the Florida sun. 

    It snowed before we left from Boston? That day seems like a dream in this weather. The sky looks so beautiful. I think Dean put it best when he said, "it looks like a movie poster for No Country for Old Men."

    The only thing more beautiful than the sky is the area around the shelter. There is an eclectic mix of colors, people, shops and bicycles all the time. Last night we could hear car races going on down the street as we fell asleep.  

     In the morning I heard chickens clucking and roosters crowing. They run around the shelter like they own the place. In truth they probably do, most of what we saw of Florida was farmland and so it seems the animals are everywhere. 

     What else did we see?

          row after delicious row of oranges growing right on the trees

          alligators in a lake

          the biggest pig eating snake in the United States

          

     By accident we also stumbled upon Ave Maria, a college and residential complex with a giant church in the center. Only fifteen minutes away from our shelter, the contrast between the poverty in Immokalee and the affluence of the shopping/residential center was shocking.

      After a yummy dinner of pasta and turkey we headed just minutes down the street to Florida State's Medical Center where we watched Immokalee, USA a documentary about the plight of the migrant farmworker in America. The video was all inclusive, the images thought provoking and the wealth of issues covered in the film were full of bitter enjoyment. It was extremely valuabe to learn so much about the people we are serving and yet I find myself feeling broken at the idea that there is still so much we do not know. But, it is not simply my ignorance of the issues that upsets me, instead it is my recent knowledge that with every new day we must be prepared to face the truth as sad as it may be. But I am realizing now more than ever that to face reality is the first step towards changing it and it is a much bigger and more efficacious step that I ever realized. 

   And honestly, the world in Immokalee must be more good than bad because nothing that is all bad could exist under such a beautiful sky.

 B.Haley from Immokalee here, 

we had a good day and goodnight!