Culture shock

A brief link to further clarify the pacifism entry... http://www.wordiq.com/definition/Pacifism A positive Mennonite example... http://www.mcc.org/ ...........

The television is constantly covering the message of George W. Bush, John Kerry, and terrorism. Though I dare not enter into that messy political arena on this blog, I do want to explore the way that it has affected my thoughts of late. I was raised up within the Mennonite church. Though I no longer attend a Mennonite church, I do find many of the ideologies of that faith compelling, even personal. I consider it to be more a part of my heritage versus my spirituality. Throughout my life, the message of pacifism has been very strong - an integral prinicple to the faith. I certainly recognize that I lean towards a culture of pacifism, though I don't really believe that it something I actively see within the Mennonite culture today - at least those that are around me, namely Mennonites (family and otherwise). Are today's Mennonite pacifists activists? Or do many tend to be passive pacifists? Within the Mennonite circles that I float in and out of, several people are not aware of global, political issues. Many do not read the paper, surf the net, read books, and/or watch the news. I do recognize the subjective material within each of those venues - but they are venues for information nonetheless. On an entirely different level, many of these same people do not condone the integration of culture, namely that of a 'worldly' culture. Therefore, movies, music, and technological change is something to be managed by a spirit of fear or isolation. A protective bubble of 'peace' covers all worldliness - in particular, war, environmental decay, sin, and consumerism. It is a bizarre reaction, which often isolates me from a decent conversation with them. I wonder, how can one hold onto the prinicple of pacifism without knowing the forces that peace must contend with? I guess I'm stumbling into yet another discovery of my own culture - based on how I grew up, what I believe about those principles now, combined with the people I know who claim ignorance on global issues and yet align themselves with pacifism as an integral value - am I a pacifict? If so, I must be an active one - because the passive kind is not an option.

After a serious 'bout' of labour, 20+ hours to be exact, my sister went into the operating room for a caesarian birth. It was somewhat upsetting for her, considering the work she had accomplished up to that point. Nonetheless, the surgery went fabulous and a wee girl entered the world. Once we heard that cry, we all breathed a sigh of relief at the arrival of Ella Mckenzie. Backing up a bit, I was in the delivery/hospital room with my sister for nearly 24 hours previous to the surgery. I felt so helpless, yet I wanted to be available to her. Being an observer isn't really my best suit - I prefer to keep busy. "Want water?" and "How about some ice?" was really the sum of my contribution. I did also join in the chorus of Happy Birthday because at midnight on October 26th marked Deanna's birthday - eventually Ella's birthday as well. We figured Ella might be born on the same day as her mom, which is very cool and at this point, a tradition in the Balzer family (Opa Balzer is also born on October 26th). While we sang the song, Deanna inhaled gas, contracting and smiling - sort of. Throughout the evening, one theme continued to surface, and that was the constant reminder of how important it is to breathe. Just breathe. I love it when life gets that basic. Ella, my niece, was born 9 pounds, 4 ounces. She's got great, waved dark hair, not to mention some serious cheeks. And, she likes me already.

After a restless sleep, I got up from bed at 5:56am. After a piece of toast with PB and J, I suited up in my running gear. The day, still dark and cool, did not deter my spirit of anticipation and mild nervousness. The run was brilliant - at first a blanket of darkness and quiet. Later, the dusted snow-capped mountains shimmered in the dawn light. Within forty minutes, the sky's clouds gleamed pink - like little halos over the mountain peaks. The pink light, brightening the yellow, orange, and red leaves on the trees, tickled my face and my soul. This morning's environment marks my anticipation of today - the day my sister is likely to have her baby (in turn, I become an Auntie for the first time).

I've committed to join her in 'the room', which has set a great nervousness in my heart and mind, though I'm excited and honored to be invited. I'm sure that experience will blow my mind and provide substantial material for the next entry. Stay tuned for news of a new person in the world, today!

More...

Now, I've decided to get out there and meet new people and... it's working. I'm having a good time, meeting fabulous people, developing my social self, and hopefully adding a little of something to their life experience too. I should mention that I do have a boundary line for making and breaking these new relationships.

I believe it's important, while developing my own culture, to align myself with people that make me want to be a better person. I figure that this may be a simple value to place on friendship, maybe even assumed for many of you, but this wasn't something I had previously understood for myself. If I align myself with someone who sincerely supports me - my ability, contribution, and personality -I will be socially complete with that person (at least in one or more areas of my life). It's almost as though I have invested and cashed in some stock (maybe it's a mutual fund).

In the dictionary, friendship is defined as a "person with whom one enjoys mutual affection and regard". Further on, it is defined as "a patron or supporter of a cause". Sure, the latter definition is likely directed at a more legal or business relationship, though I would like to apply it to my cultural experiment. I don't believe my social development demands a large number of deep, intense friendships. Though, I do believe that every level of friendship that I engage in, and ultimately commit to, should bear this one boundary as a foundation to our 'future together': let's encourage one another to be the best person we can possibly be.

Authenticity + accountability

Idealism + realism

Imagination + experience

Continuation of my socialization... For a very long time, I figured that meeting new people was a non-opportunity. Much like that of dating, I wondered "Where does one meet people?". I'm not into the bar scene. I don't do clubs. I don't hang at church functions. I don't feel a huge connection with the majority of my co-workers (plus, I see them nearly every day so I need an escape from them). I had the feeling that since I had not met someone for so long, someone that I would be interested in hanging out with, that I had forgotten how to. I married myself to the concept that it was not possible to meet new people, therefore, I need not require it. Obviously, this mindset didn't work out for me. I focussed on my friends that I had, but not all that well (apologies - you know who you are). I figured that I had Angelo and that was ample. (Note, I do find him incredibly essential to my social identity, though more in pointedly matters of spirituality, love, mutual interests, and travel debriefs.) Truly, the state of my social head was poor, deteriorating the longer I held onto this idealogy. Anyway, the truth is I do believe that my social needs are determined by my willingness to acknowledge them. I need people. My personal culture should therefore reflect a value (and development) of social identity. For many of you, this may not seem so mind-boggling. Though, it is a huge realization for me, and I am so thankful for it. For me, the key to the active pursuit of a social life is being uncomfortable - in your own shoes (is this indicative of my fascination with shoes?). In this situation, the term "uncomfortable" translates to vulnerable. I don't need to have my life together to make a suitable friend (I prefer the Aussie term, "mate", in this exploration) to another person. Actually, it's best that I do not present a together-Esther. The more real I am, the more real the friendship can be. I'm so excited about the possibilities - getting out there, meeting people, being uncomfortable, rolling with the punches, taking a few risks, and getting real.

Considering the purpose of my blog is to explore culture with the intent to create and solidify my own, I figure it might be important to begin to tackle the topic of one's social life. The dynamic of my social life, particularly since our return from India, is more interesting and diverse than ever before. To clarify "ever before", I would safely identify that as "since I left high school". One can never completely measure their social life within the years of high school and apply it to life after the fact, right? So many developments occur within oneself upon the completion of HS, so I intend "ever before" to mean, more specifically, since HS graduation day.

After our India trip, I counted on our typical routine of post-trip social isolation. But, for some reason it didn't happen this time. We were absolutely shocked by many aspects of the Canadian, suburban culture surrounding us, though the social interactions within those environments were not strained. I noted that my optimism and joy at being home overwhelmed my usual disenchantment from the world (namely people) around me. I dove into school study, exercise regime, and social appointments. The departure from the sluggish social framework of post-trip's previous was refreshing.

I wonder if being happy, content if you will, altered my approach to social life. I feel invigorated by meeting new people and trying out group events that I previously felt hesitant about. I do recognize that when I am not happy, particularly in work or relationships, that I don't call, e-mail, or initiate social outings. Unhappiness is a total detriment to my social development and ultimately, my complete person.

Is it coincidental that the older I get, the more willing I am to meet new people? Would it be safe to say that my comfort level with others is higher because I'm more at ease with me? Would it also be true that if I had a greater social circle over the past ten+ years I wouldn't have worked myself (at work, that is) so hard? Did work become my social event - even though I rarely let myself get social, at work?

The truth is that one also needs to active about it. Growing my social circle cannot simply pop up when I need it. Maybe I've finally figured out that I need friendships, new (and fresh) and old (and authentic). In order to have friends, I have to pursue them.

A beginning of more dialogue...

As you may have noticed, I have been somewhat entrenched in the analysis of suburbia. Living in Chilliwack provides plenty of fodder for discussion - online and otherwise. I also feel I have rights to it considering the fact that I grew up in suburbia. The only time that you're allowed to say what you really think is when you speak about home, right?

Life in Abbotsford was the ultimate example of the definition of suburbia. Now, it's become the new Surrey, much to the disdain of the long-time Abby residents. Therefore, the outskirts of Abbotsford are now developing up,up,up the mountain, safely above the old Abbotsford.

The last Abby house I lived in (over 12 years ago now) was sold to an Indo-Canadian family. The neighbourhood is totally Indo-Canadian now (which I love and infrequently drive through to feel a little part of India) and demonstrates a little of the big changes that have occured in my old suburban stomping grounds.

I simply adore these new shows and recent movies that capture and expose some of the suburbanite dynamics. From the latest development of Desperate Housewives to critically acclaimed movies throughout the past five years such as The Ice Storm, The Secret Lives of Dentists, more famously American Beauty, and a long while back Edward Scissorhands.

Last night, we sat down and watched the Thanksgiving-themed movie, The Ice Storm. From the director of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Ang Lee beautifully weaves a story of a fragmented family, the Hoods, in suburbia where communication and self-discovery of every character in the immediate family (or the neighbourhood, for that matter) never seem to come together. Building the tension of the family unit(s), a looming ice storm moves from the background (on television - a wonderful connection to the culture of home) to the forefront of several 'key' plot points.

Without divulging everything about the movie, I came away (this time, that is) with the fact that the perception of freedom in these characters could only be attained if something was risked. For instance, when Elena, a frigid housewive, gets on her bike (which she hasn't done for years) to go to the store, she shoplifts. Instead of just getting on the bicycle to enjoy the wind in her hair, she pushes further to feel reckless or like she is out-of-bounds. The store she is lifting from is probably a store that she frequents. Why there? Why do it at all? It's as though she was craving freedom so badly that her idea of it was so opposite of what was appropriate, even lawful.

The imagery and screaming-silence of this film is phenomenal. Between the sounds/music, scenes of ice (in a variety of interior and exterior forms), the suburban setting with disco 1970's clothing and decor, the stellar cast, writing, and photography, The Ice Storm is fabulous. It is great material for my personal pursuit of dissecting suburbia - what is it, what works, what doesn't, and ultimately, what role does it play in the greater society?

Have you been Saved!? If not, you better hurry up.

The movie, Saved!, is a fabulous and relevent - actually, it's "awesome"- depiction of teenage life in Christian high school. Being a MEI alumni, I found myself identifying completely with the film content. Sure, it is a bit over the top, but life in high school often is.

"I've been born-again my whole life." This opening line ensured that the experience ahead would be a good one.

Throughout the film, classic Christian jargon reared its ugly head: "God led me to do it", "Put on your armor", and "You're back-slidden!". The writing was so accurate on the culture of Christian.

Two highlights -
the Emmanuel shooting range t-shirts which bore the slogan "An eye for an eye". Hahaha...
and
the contemporary songs changed to be spiritual songs, rather than secular ones.

In the end, the movie captured a great mix of coming-of-age teen angst, spiritual curiousity,
high school drama - popular and not, romance, and a good, healthy twist of culture schlock. It reminded me that rules are the bane of religion, particularly when being authentic is what really matters.

The unofficial race results have been posted on the Royal Victoria Marathon site. I came in 2,879 out of 3,692 participants. Not bad at all. I am totally blown away by the first woman finisher, who clocked in at 1:18:00. That is something remarkable - a full hour finish before me. I cannot imagine.

Today, my muscles feel worked, but not sore. I'm even playing with the idea of going for a short run. Well, maybe - if only to build my appetite for the giant Thanksgiving dinner later on.

A few more thoughts on the event...

Once I crossed the finish line, my ankle-chip bleeped and prompted the announcer to call my name: "Esther Eidse, first time half-marathoner from Chilliwack, B.C.!" That was so cool.

After the announcement, I turned in my chip and proceeded to get a medal put around my neck. This medal is a little nicer than the green participant ribbons I often recieved at Sports Day in elementary school. It's a sweet memento for the experience. I then got a giant plastic wrap to keep me warm and met Angelo at the end of the 'finishing chute'.

The scene was wonderful. I enjoyed the positive vibe that surrounded fitness. I relished the celebration of health and endurance. I cherish the fact that I have been initiated into this new measure of physical success.

We meandered around the race area and then walked back to our motel room.

Later, we toasted with mimosas at lunch. Decadent living.

At six a.m., my alarm clock went off. It didn't matter though, because I was already up. My heart thumped hard and my determination stood strong. I thought: Today is the day - the day of the half-marathon. I've worked so hard for this, and now it is upon me.

Hearty breakfast in and happy prep begins. The prep is a bit of a ceremony for me. I get the basic clothing on, then focus in on my feet. First, moleskin - a sticky blister preventative - is applied. Second, a blister bar -much like that of a deoderant stick - is applied to nasty spots on my foot, spots that are not for moleskin. Then, the socks. Last, the shoes (which I love). This time, an extra step occurred out of ceremony - the securing of my ankle-strap. This strap recognized when I cross the start and finish line for the Royal Victoria 1/2 marathon.

I also secured a paper number to my body, #3919, which identified me as a half-marathoner and just made me feel damned cool.

Angelo and I went for coffee, which I didn't really need, because my mood was beyond hyper. We made our way to the parliment building area and found the start line. The mood of the crowd of 8 000+ was dynamic. The electricity of runners inspired me. What, stretch? Oh yes, I need to do that.

Within a 10 minutes, the start of the race began. I was quite far back in the pack, but it was inconsequential. Elated, I crossed the start line and noted the chip bleeped, alongside many others, and marked my beginning.

I started slow, knowing the hype of the crowd would be alluring to join. This truly paid off for me, as my pace of the race really set me up for a fabulous result. Initially, I navigated the crowd cautiously, keeping my pace slow and observant of other eager runners. I quickly made an ally with a Crowsnest, AB runner. We ran for about 5 km and talked about the dynamics of the event and general life experiences. After a while, we parted, but I was thankful to have had someone to run with.

The run proved incredibly beautiful. Though rain was in the forecast, none occured. It was dreamy and absolutely wonderful to experience. The run took us through Beacon Park, up and down, and led us out to the Pacific Ocean. We ran alongside the great Pacific for several kms, twice. Simply wonderful.

At some point within the run, a family sitting out on their lawn blared the song to Chariots of Fire endlessly, and I felt like I was in slow-motion.

I planned my run, and followed the plan completely. Insert gel pack. Insert water. Insert Gatorade. Perfect - timing and feeling.

For a while, I ran with a 70 year old gent. We talked and enjoyed the ocean and then he politely told me (after a brief look at his watch) he had to go. Sure enough, he beat me, by at least a minute or two. Wow.

Later, at about 18 km, a lady approached me and mentioned my lovely pace, by which she followed throughout the event. Wow, thanks. She mentioned that she'd been doing this sort of thing for 25 years, or so, and that I was the best first-time 1/2 marathoner she's ever seen. She was 65 years old. Inspiring.

At this point, I went hard. I turned up the pace and finished strong. I ended at 2:20 hours. My goal was 2:30 hours, so I was quite pleased. I feel incredible. I could have kept going. A stellar experience.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of my Royal Victoria half-marathon experience. I cannot believe this day, Sunday - October 10th, has finally come. It felt so far away for so very long. I believe I registered for the event in early August; October felt so far away then.

Thanks to all of you who recently sent notes of encouragement and support for my race. I feel so empowered by your love and belief in me. I know I will feel wonderfully stinky and beat-up after I cross the finish line.

What I face now is the culture shock of participating with nearly 8 000 others in a foot race. Crazy. There are 3 500 signed up for the 1/2 marathon event so far. I'm sure there are many more to register between this evening and tomorrow's deadline.

Saturday marks a race expo where participants recieve a cool package which includes a race number (paper), timing chip, race t-shirt, sponsor shwag and final instructions. It'll feel a little like a conference, I guess.

Sunday, at 8 am, I start the big race. So excited. So nervous.

Depeche Mode's Violator is one of the best albums of the 90's. For my birthday, Angelo was kind enough to give me the CD, since I've already ruined my first cassette tape and I am on the way to retiring my second.

I was introduced to Depeche Mode in the early 90's. It was like finding the music to my night-time dreams. I listen often to this particular album and find myself quiet and meditative. How can another person know my inner sound so well?

Recently I heard Marilyn Manson cover Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus". At first, I wanted to crush them for doing it. I felt that way when they covered the Eurythmics classic, "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" too. Unfortunately, Marilyn Manson did both songs, songs that I cherish, extremely well. What does that mean? That we like the same bands? Hmmm...

I prefer the Johnny Cash cover of "Personal Jesus". It is sincere and classy. Oh Johnny, what to do without you?

Getting back on topic here, Depeche Mode's Violator is stellar. The CD gift is yet another reaquaintence with the classy album. For fun, check out the "Enjoy the Silence" video on the band's website.


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Egad! Final exams are tough.

I found myself completely prepared for the exam, but not prepared for the actual process of it. What a draining exercise it was. Despite today's final, I am feeling relieved and happy to move forward in my other courses. I figured if I could do that exam, surely my half-marathon will be easier (Eep - it's this weekend). Really.

Isn't it amazing that in the three-hour-moment of the exam, nothing else matters? The ideas of life and the world go away and the scanning of long lost files of learning are pulled out. Drawers open, files askew - the disorganizing and disconcerting activity of testing one's knowledge. Ahhh, yes, this is the path of knowledge. One forgets what it entails, you see.

Cheers, for moving on!

On Sunday, ABC premiered a new series titled Desperate Housewives. I must admit, it turned out to be a real treat.

Living in suburbia, and finding little identity within it, this show rings true for me - as an observer. I wondered then, who this show is targeted to? Is it me? I doubt it. The amount of shows that are targeted at me (seriously, I don't believe my sort is categorized) are miniscule. So, then is the show targeted at families, more specifically, at 'housewives'?

I tried to sort this conundrum out during a commercial break, when I actually caught myself in the answer by watching the commercials. A variety of crock-pots, gardening treatments, commuter vehicles, and Oprah advertisements peppered the commercial lineup. I couldn't believe my eyes (though, not my ears - I'm a huge 'mute' advocate). Could these producers really be targeting a suburban audience?

Desperate Housewives has much of the same tone as the film American Beauty. The edgy content and surprising honesty has much to explore in the expanding culture of suburbia.

On a more personal note, I really loved the character, Susan (played by Teri Hatcher). I frequently enjoy Teri Hatcher's work, most notably in 2 Days in the Valley. In her opening scene, she is introduced as one who cannot fail to screw up the dish, Macaroni and Cheese. Her inability to put together a decent meal immediately drew me to her. It reminded me of several occasions that I have been called for a food contribution. I always offer to ask Angelo about it, though many find that this is confusing because I've already accepted the invitation to the event. In truth, it's not up to me - I don't make the food, he does. And, thank goodness for that.

Supersize Me did not dissapoint me. I had heard a lot of hype, as I am sure you did, about the film's distinct purpose to expose the obesity problem in the United States. Often, after hearing substantial movie hype, I feel I need to consciously lower my expectations of it and then enter into the film as though I haven't heard anything at all. This time, it didn't matter what the hype was and how I entered into it, I was floored by this movie.

Morgan Spurlock takes a daring dive into the world of McDonalds by committing to an experiment of eating only McDonald's for each meal of the day for 30 days. There are several rules involved in the experiment, but most noticeably, if the McEmployee offers Morgan to supersize his meal, he must accept it.

What struck me about the experiment was Morgan's ability to interview without bias (this is something that I find really frustrating about watching Michael Moore - he is so blatantly manipulating the interviewees answers for his purposes, versus exploring the possible angles as to why they are saying what they're saying). I also got a kick out of Morgan's attitude that for some reason, the experiment may even be fun. Silly. What happens? Well, that's for you to find out... Until you do, here are a few stats that may get your attention.

Rent it and expect to be anything but dissapointed.

I remember when the sky went black the last time Mount St. Helens erupted. Apparently, I was only 6 years old when that happened (how old am I?). I can recall that the sky was dark in the middle of the day and stayed that way for the duration of the day and night. It was strange.

At that age, being one that was familiar with the scary stories of the Old Testament where millions of locusts take over the sky, I thought it was the end of the world. What is interesting to me now is how casual everyone is taking this eruption. No, there is no lava - but the smoke plumes are massive. The whole thing just brings back memories of my imagination gone wild with frightful potential. Not to mention a deep respect for Nature's great ability to wreak havoc upon us.