Defying Gravity

My friend, Erin, and I went to the Orpheum last night. She won free tickets to Wicked. Oh. my. gosh. I had no idea what to expect, which is probably part of the reason I loved it so much. The costumes were gorgeous (especially the swirling greens of Emerald City), the dance numbers were unique and beautiful, and the orchestra was amazing (and loud, just the way I like it). Oh, and it made fun of Wizard of Oz, which greatly pleased me since I hate that movie.

But man! The woman who played Elphaba (aka the Wicked Witch of the West) had a voice like none other. Usually I prefer male singers over females, but she may be changing my mind. She kept growing in volume and power, and her voice seemed to be coming from deeper and deeper within herself. Like every word was wrenching itself from her soul. She belted out notes with a richness and passion I've only dreamed of hearing. It was truly magical. There were a few times when she finished singing that I wanted to jump out of my seat and scream and dance in excitement.

I feel adulturous for saying this, but that performance may have surpassed Phantom of the Opera. *gasp*

What a lovely and perfect night.

Indians in the River

It's hard to say what part of our Saturday trip to William O'Brien State Park was the best. Perhaps the flip-flopped geocache coordinates that led us (and many other hikers) into a sticker-infested area behind the campground. Perhaps the canoe trip we took across the St. Croix to a little, swampy island where Darwin leapt from the canoe--to ground he hoped was solid--only to create a huge splash and further stain his "camping Converse." Or perhaps the mangrove-like forest we discovered where we wove through the trees and pretended we were navigating the Amazon.

But no. I believe the highlight of the entire day happened at the end. Josh and Darwin struggled to paddle upstream; our two rental hours were almost up and the guys were exhausted from paddling. Ahead of us, a motor boat disappeared around the bend. There was a crashing sound. Silence. Screaming. A blue flotation device floated past us.

We finally made it to the scene of peril. People clung to the sides of a motor boat while another man tried to push them free from the island trees. A young Indian woman holding a little girl struggled to pull herself onto shore and keep ahold of her flooded canoe. Further still were three Indian men--still in their canoe--tangled in overhanging branches, and a man who appeared to be their ex-passenger clingng with all his might to a different branch. They called out for help, but there was really nothing we could do. We weren't experienced boaters, we had no equipment (since we had a rental), and we knew that if we tried to pluck people from the water, they'd swamp us and we'd add to the number of people needing to be rescued. Thankfully, a man with a motorboat who appeared to work for the park arrived and began gathering the misfits. 

(A sidenote: The rescue man went straight for the woman with the child, which freaked out the man clinging to the tree branch. The clinging man screamed for help, and the rescue man audibly rolled his eyes and said, "I'm coming. But there are like six of you!" It caught me off guard that a rescue man would be so annoyed and sarcastic in this, his hour of most importance. Which is probably why I thought it was funny.)

As we continued upstream, we came across many other canoes overfilled with Indians and their children, each boat floundering in creative ways, trying to get back upstream to land and their cars. I have to say, it was quite humorous. Especially when we came up to a couple who had sensibly stayed in the calmer waters and told us as we passed by, "We told them not to go out there!"

Oh man. I love people.

A Spot of (Japanese) Tea

Last night was the lantern lighting festival at the Como Park Conservatory. The afternoon was filled with Japanese music, dancing, martial arts, and (my favorite) drumming. I don't know what it is about percussion that gets me so excited. Perhaps because it's like a heartbeat. And Mu Daiko is more than pounding rhythms; it's a dance.

I was surprised to see so many people in the park, but it was encouraging to see how many people wanted to celebrate St. Paul's relationship with their sister city, Nagasaki. And the many anime characters that were visiting the park made for some interesting people watching as well!

At dusk, volunteers lit three hundred lanterns and sent them floating on the ponds (both inside and outside the Japanese Tea Garden). We wished we could've seen the lights in the garden, but the line was really long. What we saw was beautiful enough :) I only wish that people wouldn't have been so loud and obnoxious during the lighting. The lanterns are sent out in honor of the dead, and I felt very little respect in the air. Oh well, that's Americans for you.

Here are some fabulous pictures taken by Josh to give you a glimpse of last evening. I think we will make this outing a yearly one.

Ready to be lowered

Getting darker

Gathering at the end of the pond

Superior Breeze

We are back! Back from a wonderful vacation on the North Shore where the sun tans our skin without killing us with its heat. The moment we stepped out of our car when we got home and the humid ninety-three degree air sucked our breaths away, we realized how much we had enjoyed that Lake Superior breeze. Those three nights spent in the cabin were the first nights this summer that I actually slept well. I loved having the loft windows open and listening to the lapping waves as I drifted off.

I'm not sure if I'd call our trip relaxing, though. Over the course of four days, we probably hiked close to ten miles--mostly uphill--all for the sake of geocaching. We found fourteen! A personal record. I have to say that I'm very proud of myself for pushing through the burning leg, calf, and shin pain; it was totally worth it (not to mention good practice for our Tennessee trip next month).

Now for some highlights:

1. Since it's Split Rock Lighthouse's 100th birthday, every first Friday of the month the park rangers turn on its light. I have never seen a state park so busy! We wandered down to the beach and waited for the moment (I'm pretty sure Josh got some good pictures of it that I'll try to post later). As it got darker outside, the beam became more pronouced and shot across the lake. It looked beautiful. I'm so glad we were there for that momentous occasion.

2. We stayed at the Blacklock Cabin, a secluded refuge for artists and travellers that sits on a cliff overlooking the lake. I absolutely love that place and will never get enough of it. It gives you the sense that you are the only people in the world.
One of the nights, Josh and I went down to the rock beach and had a campfire on the shoreline. In the distance, lightning was shooting from the clouds and dancing on the lake. An absolutely wonderful memory.

3. Thanks to geocaching, we discovered a few new and exciting places. One such place, near Silver Bay, was called Black Beach. The beach is made of pieces of taconite from the nearby mines, and it stretches for quite a ways. We gave up looking for the geocache, though, because we would've had to scale a treacherous rock outcropping (and by scale, I mean, scale). I hope Josh and Darwin don't think I'm a party-pooper, but I didn't want anyone to die! But, in my opinion, finding that beach made the trip totally worth it. Maybe we'll have to return and have a beach fire there too!

4. Also thanks to geocaching, we found Beaver Creek, one of those places you cross on the highway and don't give a second glance. Most of the creek weaves between huge rocks, making it very easy to rock hop and explore. It's nicely shaded and surprisingly peaceful, despite its being so close to the road. This place will have to be further explored, someday when we're not exhausted.

5. Split Rock Lighthouse State Park. I can't believe my family hasn't explored this place more! Josh and I found a really nice picnic area and a beautiful campground. It's a tent-only, cart-in campground, which is probably why I've never been there before. But not for long! Josh and I scoped out a few sites and discovered one overlooking the lakeshore. Someday--and I hope soon!--we will stay there :)

6. Yep, Split Rock Lighthouse State Park is the winner for the best places on this trip. Though the hike was longer than we expected (and Josh wasn't wearing good shoes), we finally found our last geocache. On the top of the Day Hill Trail stood a stone fireplace chimney, and no one really knows the story of it. It's rumored that a man by the name of Day was building a dream home for him and his future wife, but the construction stopped when she called off the wedding. Naturally, a tragic love story would catch my attention ;) I wish they had built a house up there on that huge flat rock, lived quietly together on top of the world, and watched the sunrise over the stirring lake. The view there is one of the best I've ever seen. Next time, I'm bringing a picnic. And maybe a few logs for the home.

6. Blueberry wild rice brats from Superior Meats. Need I say more?

7. Eating at Grandma's in Duluth with the whole family. Love that soup, love that area, and love it when the bridge goes up!

In Session

I just started taking an ESL tutor training course at the Minnesota Literacy Council, and I have to say that I loved being in a classroom environment again. I know, I'm such a nerd. But I'm sure a big part of my excitement was because I was meeting new people, something I rarely get to do these days as an "unemployed" person. Plus, I'm learning some fun and interesting ways to teach things to people from other backgrounds (using visual, textural, and audio techniques) and ways to relate to their experiences (being respectful, passionate, and curious--but not nosy). Even though ESL tutoring is outside of my comfort zone, I know that I can use these skills I'm learning in many ways. Let's see, though, how eager I am to try them when I actually start working with immigrants and refugees. Intimidating!

Psalm 39:4-6

Show me, O Lord, my life's end

and the number of my days;

let me know how fleeting is my life.

You have made my days a mere handbreadth;

the span of my years is as nothing before you.

Each man's life is but a breath.

Man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro:

He bustles about, but only in vain;

he heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it.

This psalm is the story of my life right now. God has been reminding me how insignificant and small I am. At first, I found this revelation quite depressing, but as I meditate on it, I'm realizing that it's a blessing. My days truly are a mere handbreadth and my life but a breath. It inspires me to action. If I have so little time on this earth, why not make the most of it? And why not do it for God?

I'm very glad I read this psalm today; it further solidified (at least for me) our calling to give up our "comfortable" existence here and move to Africa. I've been noticing, in the past few months especially, that my desire to buy stuff has been fading. I don't need that new shirt or that movie. It's amazing to me that God has been whittling away at my materialistic self without me even realizing it! I'm beginning to believe that this whittling is preparing me for missions, teaching me how to control my impulsiveness and greed and to be willing to give up luxuries. I don't want to be like the man the psalmist describes, the man who heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it. I want to build treasures in heaven, the kind that will last for all eternity.