This week’s challenge is simple… travel.  I’m already in Oregon and the rest of the week I’ll be in Vancouver, BC and my challenge is to relax, take in my surroundings and enjoy myself.  This should be a good one.

Who’s with me?! Dan!

Mile 2

Mile 7

Mile 11

I also tried to pay attention along the way and take some pictures of the scenery.

A beautiful bridge

Mountains in the distance

University of Oregon stadium- Go Ducks!

And, what’s a good, fun race without a delicious post-race breakfast?  We went to a place near campus that one of Beth’s friends recommended.  It was sooooo good.

Studio One Cafe

Morningstar Breakfast with vegan gravy!

Dan's amazing desserty french toast with almond custard and berry compote!

Hi Beth and Dan!

I guess in terms of fun fun, like silly fun, the race wasn’t exactly that kind of fun, but it was definitely the most enjoyable race I’ve had so far.  The whole day was great.  After breakfast, we headed back to Portland, stopped off at the outlets to get some J. Crew deals, ate pizza, drank tea and watched the first season of Real World.  Ah, niceness.  Challenge complete.

Tofu Scramble

Right near the restaurant, there was a store with salvaged doors, windows and lumber.  We took a peek.  The front area was cute, so we good a picture there.

Me and Beth

Then, it was on the road to Eugene.  A good little 2 hour ride, slowed down only slightly by a back up at an exit with outlets. Rah.

Road trip!

When we got to Eugene, we couldn’t check into our hotel quite yet, so we picked up our race packets.  The shirts are light purple!

Hooray!

We also grabbed a bite to eat at a little hippie place.  They had a mock chicken salad sandwich, which was made out of chickpeas and other good things.

Mock chicken... mmm.

When we got back to the hotel and into our room, we discovered a nice view.

Eugene

We threw our stuff down and went out to explore the University of Oregon.  Eugene is known as “Tracktown USA” because a lot of famous runners have gone to school here.  They had the Olympic trials here before Beijing and their track is pretty well-known.  It’s called Hayward Field after the first track coach there.

Run, Laurie, Run

Then, we went in search of a statue of running legend Steve Prefontaine aka “Pre” that I thought was on the campus somewhere.  After walking around for quite a while, Beth finally called Pawl for backup.  Turns out, the statue is in Beaverton.  Oopsies.  We were tired from walking, so we came back to the hotel and Beth and I soaked in the hot tub for a while (which discolored my bathing suit, but I won’t get into it here, I’m still too annoyed).  For dinner we got some good Thai food at a place called Ta Ra Rin.  Full day.  Half marathon tomorrow!

It was a really clear and beautiful day today and as we descended into Portland, we had a great (spectacular, even) view of Mt. Hood.

Mt. Hood

Once we were on the ground, Dan and I picked up our rental car at the airport, then picked up Beth from her nanny gig and drove over to Voodoo Doughnuts.  It’s been on some show on the Food Network before and Dan was all about it.  I mean, I wasn’t complaining or anything.  They have all sorts of crazy doughnuts (as you can see).  Dan got a maple bar with bacon on it and their signature doughnut is shaped like a little person and when you bite it, raspberry jelly oozes out.  You can also get married there (they had it on the menu), but I think I’ll just take a doughnut.

Voodoo!

Then, we went back to Beth’s house for a bit.  She just moved to a new place and they have chickens and geese!  Check it out.  I was obviously mesmerized (and also a little worried about the white one, who I hear is mean).

Chickens!

Then, we went to an early dinner with Beth and her guy, Pawl.  Our waiter was funny.

Pawl and Beth

Then, we went to a movie (Micmacs) at one of those cute little theaters where you can eat a meal in the theater (sorta).  We all liked the movie.  Who doesn’t love crazy French films?  Now, bed.  Tomorrow, Eugene!

But, in the mean time, I’ve been collecting a little list of things I wanted to write about and they aren’t coming together like I thought they might, so here they are in list form… random tidbits:

1) Have you been watching the show, What Would You Do? on ABC?  I kind of like it, but I have a few complaints.  On the show, they set up these scenarios where someone needs help or intervention of some sort and then they see who will step up to help.  Then they act like the person that stepped up is the hero and those that didn’t are heartless jerks.  I object.  I’m the type to step up and yell at someone if they deserve it and everything, but some of the set ups on the show are so obviously fake sometimes people actually ask, “Is this real?”  For example, when they had a Muslim woman, blind person, Latino, gay couple, etc. try to order at a restaurant, the actor that played the racist/bigot/craphead was so over the top that I don’t know if I would have believed it was real.  See, the thing is, most hate is very subtle.  That’s why it’s been able to stick around so long.  Usually it’s something as simple as ignoring someone, or a snide look, or a joke between friends.  Full frontal racism/bigotry isn’t an everyday occurrence, so I don’t blame people for not really knowing what to think/do/say.  On the other hand, after the shock wore off, I really think I would go nuts on that actor.  And another thing, a bunch of the situations on the show could seriously put someone in danger if they intervene.  Like when there’s some domestic abuse going on in the park and people walk by.  Who knows what that guy is capable of?  I don’t know if I’d call the police (I hope I would), but you can’t blame someone for self-preservation.  I feel like, immediately following this show, 20/20 will come on and there will be a story about some well meaning woman who tried to help a homeless man and ended up in the dumpster.  And they’ll say, why would she have put herself in that situation?  And then John Quinones will jump out and say, well if she hadn’t she would have been a heartless jerk!

2) At work, I like to send people emails, even if they are a few cubes down or even just a thin cloth-covered cubicle wall away.  Why?  Since becoming more of a technophile, I’ve become fond of asynchronous communication.  That is, communication that doesn’t take place in real time.  I like having an email inbox that I can respond to when I have time, a good answer, or the energy to do it.  I do not like phone calls demanding an answer, one in which I often need to look up anyway.  Plus, I’m much more articulate when I can sit, think, and write out my response.  I like Facebook wall posts that you can choose when to respond to.  Sometimes, I feel like jumping right into the conversation, sometimes I like to walk away, but I like determining which of these I will choose.  I still like phone calls with family, but with friends, I kinda like text messages.  It gives me time to think.  It takes some immediacy out of the conversation.  And since I don’t carry my phone around with me in the house, it’s nice to be able to check it when I happen to look at it and respond when necessary.  When I think back to college, the days of AOL Instant Messenger (or AIM), and the 6 conversations I would hold simultaneously in 6 different boxes, each one blinking and waiting for a response, I break out in hives.  So much pressure.  I never turn chat on on facebook and AIM has slowly died.  I couldn’t be happier.  I like time to think and I think other people do to.  So that’s why at work, I send emails when I could just as easily poke my head into someone else’s cube or raise my voice just a bit.  I like to give them time.  Maybe they’re on the phone.  Maybe they’re in the middle of something.  Maybe they just don’t feel like dealing with my problem right at that second.  So, I send an email.

3) When I was in choir in 6th grade at St. Joe’s School, Mrs. Frey, the choir director told us that singing was praying twice.  I always liked that.  It seemed very efficient.  Plus, I liked to sing, so in my mind, it was like being rewarded for eating ice cream.  And I had a thought the other day as I wrote my blog.  It was one of the more mundane posts; one of the “first I did this, then this, then this, then this, the end!”  And I thought, what a bunch of crap I’m writing right now.  But, then I got to thinking, and I really think there’s some value in sitting down each night and documenting my life.  Not every day is profound, but as I review the day, I rethink much of what I did and sometimes I wonder why the heck I did that or what doing that says about me or means about the world.  And so, I’ve decided that writing (and blogging) is thinking twice and there ain’t nothing wrong with that.

4) I think I’ve discovered a learning prejudice.  So, I’ve been interviewing teachers about technology and there’s a general theme that comes out which is, technology is good if students are using it to learn.  It must help students learn or it should not be in school.  And, as of right now, cell phones and Facebook are getting the haterade because kids aren’t learning.  But really, this isn’t about learning at all because surely, kids are learning.  They just aren’t learning what we want them to learn.  They may not be learning our Academic Content Standards, but they are learning how to communicate, how to use technology, how to be a 7th grader, how to be a girl (or boy), how to have friends, how to make enemies, how to talk online, how this effects in person communication, etc.  They are certainly learning; they just aren’t learning what we want them to learn.  So, what’s so much better about learning the Academic Content Standards anyway?  It sounds like we might be prejudiced toward this kind of content learning.  Why not allow kids to learn what they want to learn?  What are we afraid of happening if students don’t learn the 3 types of rocks?  Or, maybe we aren’t giving them enough credit… maybe they would try to learn the three types of rocks (although… okay, no they wouldn’t).  Who knows?  I’m not saying kids don’t need guidance; they do.  But when guidance starts to look more like control, and starts to inhibit the ability to think outside the box of standards-based education, I wonder if we should insist that these tools are used for a certain kind of learning only.  What else could be possible with a little more freedom?

The end.

Today, I got up and did some more research.  Then, I stopped into the girls’ school to meet my Lego League participants and chat for a bit over lunch.  That was great and I am soooo excited about that gig!  (P.S. Even their cafeteria is amazing.)  In the afternoon, I attended a webinar for ODE, which was the worst webinar ever.  It was completely text, so I had to read everything.  Propping of the eyelids was essential to keep from falling asleep.  Note to self: Text-based webinars stink.  After that it was more research and more research (although I broke for dinner), followed by creating a schedule for the Lego League and mailing it off.  It is now 8:31pm and I am officially a workaholic.  Sigh.  BUT!  In just two more days I will be on a plane to Portland, Oregon where I will not be doing any work!  Well, most likely.

This week’s challenge is to set a personal record.  This coming Sunday, I will be in Eugene, Oregon for a women’s half marathon.  My cousin, Beth, will be running with me (at least for a bit).  When I say personal record (the cool runner kids say PR), I mean to beat my best race time, which for a half marathon is 1:56:10.  This might be a long shot, but you never know, I could be having a really good day or that cool Pacific Northwest air could give me a boost of energy.  Who knows!?  So, I’m going for it.  But, I decided that I will have a back up plan.  My back up plan is to set a record for the most amount of fun had while running a half marathon.  I plan on bringing my camera and enjoying every minute of small town Oregon.  Don’t even try to say that this is a cop out.  It’s a little corny, I’ll give you that, but whether or not I hit that magic number, I. will. have. fun.  The kind of fun that only two people that have known each other FOREVER (seriously, since birth) can have.  Yay for rethinking a PR! 

Who’s with me?!  I guess just Beth, huh?

The angels said, ‘Mary, God gives you news of a Word from Him, whose name will be the Messiah, Jesus, son of Mary, who will be held in honour in this world and the next, who will be one of those brought near to God. He will speak to people in his infancy and in his adulthood.  He will be one of the righteous.’
-Qur’an 3:45-46

This week’s challenge was to “attend a vastly different religious service,” but what I ended up learning was that, this religion, that I thought would be so different, wasn’t really so different after all.

What I felt mostly this week, was hospitality, openness, and a sense that we are much more alike than we are unalike.  When I decided that this would be my challenge, I emailed a fellow student in my program at OSU to see if I might be able to attend a service with him.  He was so gracious, sending a detailed email suggesting a typical Friday service (or Jumu’ah, their weekly service) and a Sunday night dinner (or Iftar, breaking of the daily fast during Ramadan) followed by Sunday night prayers (or Taraweeh, nightly prayers said through Ramadan in which the entire Qur’an is recited).  He explained what each was called and what each was for and also solicited the aid of a female cousin to attend with me.  Before I even got to the mosque, they had answered several questions (Should I cover my head for Friday’s service?  Yes.) and made sure that I knew how to get there and that someone would be waiting for me.  I didn’t have any of the anxiety that I thought I might going to visit a new place, where I was an outsider, for the first time.

The mosque is in Dublin, a nice suburb northwest of Columbus, and I don’t know what I was expecting, but I didn’t expect a beautiful new mosque with two domes sitting in the middle of suburban Ohio.  There it was though.  I missed the entrance, so I ended up parking on a street in the neighborhood next to the mosque.  I found my friend, H (I’m not sure if he or his cousin want me to use their names, so I won’t for now), without much of a problem and he escorted me in.  His cousin, M, was running a bit late, so he showed me where to go and I headed up to the women’s section to take a seat.  See, in a mosque the women are separated from the men.  Part of the reason for this is modesty during the physical prayer where you bend over multiple times and part is because women are not obligated to go to the Friday service because of childcare responsibilities.  So, I was headed to a room upstairs that was overlooking the area where the men and the man giving the sermon were.  When I got there, I took off my shoes and put them in the cubbies outside.  As I was taking off my shoes, there was an African woman there with me.  It seemed that it was her first time in this mosque because she had asked my friend where to go and we both were trying to figure out which room to sit in (there were a few upstairs).  She acted like she wasn’t surprised to see me at all.  In fact, she acted like I should know the answers to her questions.  This surprised me.  When I got in to the sanctuary (I’m not sure if that’s the right word), I sat in the back of about two rows of women and I thought this relatively small turnout would be it.  But, it was funny because just like Catholic church, lots of people were late.  And, just like Catholic church, lots of babies were crying.  One cell phone even went off and made everyone turn and give a look.  I don’t know why I thought this was somewhat comforting.  It just made the whole experience feel “normal,” like something I could relate to, something very regular and human.  And what also struck me was that no one was staring at me like I thought they might.  I didn’t feel like anyone was wondering what the heck I was doing there.  I think that if a woman in a scarf came into a Catholic church, she might get some stares, and I was curious why I wasn’t.

The service went on, a man preached about giving money to the poor, fasting, asking for forgiveness, being a good person and other things I think are standard in a religious service.  I had a hard time following at times because once in a while verses or words in Arabic would be used and I didn’t understand (obviously).  When M arrived, she filled me in a bit.  But as I listened, I looked around at all of the women and all of the different scarves and different ways of wearing scarves.  And, it wasn’t just the diversity of the scarves and the styles that struck me, but the diversity of the women themselves.  There were women of every color, black, white, and every shade in between.  A blonde child pranced around behind her mother.  Later, both my friend and his cousin would explain that Islam is truly a global religion.  I believe it.

When the sermon ended, it was time for prayer.  The women lined up in straight lines, while I moved the the back (accompanied by a few other women; I wasn’t the only one not participating).  These are the prayers that I’ve seen on television numerous time.  There’s a lot of standing, prostrating, and more Arabic that I didn’t understand.  Later, I was informed that this type of prayer is called Salah and is different from supplication prayer or the prayer that Christians are more used to, a talking to God.  Salah is this specific ritual act of communicating with God.  This is how wikipedia explains it:

The chief purpose of prayer in Islam is to act as a person’s communication with God. By reciting “The Opening”, the first chapter of the Qur’an, as required in all prayer, the worshipper can stand before God, thank and praise Him, and to ask for guidance along the Straight Path.

So, here are the words that Muslims say during Salah (which is also the first chapter of the Qur’an):

In the name of God, the Lord of Mercy, the Giver, of Mercy!
Praise belongs to God, Lord of the Worlds, the Lord of Mercy, the Giver of Mercy, Master of the Day of Judgement.  It is You we worship; it is You we ask for help.  Guide us to the straight path: the path of those You have blessed, those who incur no anger and who have not gone astray.

Of course, this is an English translation and the true meaning can only be in the original language, Arabic, so I’m sure there’s a little something lost in our Germanic clunkiness.

Salah

The women said their prayers and when they were finished, M and I began to leave.  On our way out, we were stopped by many of her friends and family members, each would embrace and give her a kiss on both cheeks.  There were lots of smiles and they were all just as friendly with me.  Then, M realized that there was going to be a funeral prayer because a member of the congregation (again, not sure if that’s the right word) had passed away.  “You’ll want to stay for this,” she said.  To me, it looked rather similar to Salah, as M expected.  There’s a nuanced difference.  After the funeral prayer, and as I was standing and waiting for M to finish up a spirited conversation with a particularly upbeat girl, a woman came up to me to explain that during the funeral prayer they say one prayer for the dead and one to God (if I’m remembering that right).  She seemed very comfortable with me and I just nodded and smiled, not sure what to say.

After the sanctuary had cleared, M took me on a tour of the mosque, starting with the upstairs washroom.  In Islam there is something called ablution, which is a ritual cleansing before prayer.  They don’t pray until they have gone through quite an intense cleansing of their hands, head, and feet.  When I think about the communal holy water and the communal wine glass at Catholic church, I think this might be a good idea.  We then ran back into the lady that had talked to me about the funeral prayer.  It turns out that she is M’s aunt and she thought I was muslim (I told you no one was staring).  She told this to M in Arabic and laughed a little.  M then took me downstairs and showed me the rooms that are for meetings and youth group, the main area where the men worship, and even the mosque basement, which is very much like every church basement I’ve ever seen (linoleum floors, classroom spaces, a big area with tables and chairs for meals, etc.).  We also met back up with H and saw a few more things, including a small outdoor amphitheater.  I asked the obligatory dumb questions like “Are you always hot?” (No), “Just how much do you have to cover up?” (scarf, long sleeves, long pants/skirt and it should all be loose) and “Did Muhammed write the Qur’an?” (Not exactly).  I also received a free English translation of the Qur’an (probably as a result of that last comment).  Did you know that Jesus is mentioned in the Qur’an more than Muhammed?  I had no idea.  So, I learned that Muslims believe that the Qur’an is the word of God that was spoken to Muhammed through the Angel Gabriel.  And it’s really very different from the Bible; not so much a linear history, but a series of lessons with stories of the prophets intermingled (to make the point of the lesson).  Muslims believe that there were several prophets that included Moses, Jesus (and several other old and new testament prophets), but that the final prophet was Muhammed.  This was all news to me and it makes me wonder why, when all three of the Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity and Islam) are so interwoven, that we can’t get along a little better.  Ignorance might be the answer.

I bid farewell to M and H until Sunday night’s dinner.

Me and M

In the holy month of Ramadan, Muslims fast from sun up to sun down every single day.  This is very unfortunate (at least in my hungry opinion) when Ramadan happens to fall on these long summer days.  Muslims eat something before the sun comes up, which is very early right now, and then wait until the sun goes down before breaking fast (This includes water!).  I ate a late breakfast with my family this morning, and then I decided that, since I would be breaking the fast with my Muslim friends tonight, I should probably not eat anything until then (It just didn’t seem right to come to the huge fast-breaking meal already full and content, you know?).  So, I started to get hungry around three, and when it was finally time to break the fast, I was starved!  And I allowed myself to have some iced tea during the day!  Muslims treat Ramadan as a time of reflection, as one guy that gave a presentation tonight before dinner said, as a time to stop being “automatons.”  In daily life, it is so easy to fall into your automatic behaviors without thought, especially the one where you mindlessly visit the fridge over and over.  Ramadan, is a chance to pay attention to your routines, in order to be closer to God.  This sounds very much like what I am trying to do with these challenges… to pay attention, to stay awake and to better myself even if just bit by bit.

So, when I got to the dinner tonight, I was met by H once again.  He walked me in.  I was given a gift basket (And now I have two copies of the Qur’an!  Any takers?) and then a bunch of people were all filing into a room to hear some speakers.  First up, was the leader of a mosque.  Then, the pastor from a Presbyterian church.  Then, a (female) rabbi, and finally some closing words from a member of this mosque (basic history of Islam) and the director of this mosque (who gave his opinion on the ground zero mosque; he thinks other options should be considered if there is going to be discord over it.  I disagree, but it’s a nice thing to say.).  Most of what these speakers talked about had to do with the importance of people of different faiths coming together to benefit the community.  Who benefits when all of these faith communities remain isolated?  Together, more good can be done and understanding one another makes for a more peaceful world.

After the speakers were finished, a tour of the mosque was given.  Since I had already had a special personal tour on Friday, H and I went downstairs, chatted, and got prime seats so that we (okay, I) could be first in line to get food.  There was a beautiful spread provided by Lavash (a Mediterranean restaurant that I had meaning to get around to… lucky me, right?).  And on each nicely decorated table were a plate of dates and a small bottle of water, which is typically used to initially break the fast.  When it was time to eat that date and water (8:09pm to be exact), I was having hunger pains.  (I just want to remind my regular readers that I fasted once before, but I allowed myself juice and broth and it wasn’t bad at all.  No calories for 9 hours was very hard to do, and I even cheated and had iced tea… Can you imagine no water or food for more than 12 hours every day for 30 days?  Wow.)  Anyway, that date was delicious and then I hopped in line just after all of the kids (I have no shame when it comes to food) and got a heaping plate of hummus, baba gannouj, tabbouli, potato salad, greek salad, okra, rice, bread and lentil soup.  Check me out:

Come to bugsii.

And for dessert, baklava!  And a little more baba, tabbouli and bread… (sheepish grin).  Everything was delicious and I was also able to sit around and chat with H for a long while about Islam.  There’s just too much to share.  I mean, what would you say if someone asked you to explain Christianity over dinner… sort of impossible, right?  But, I feel like I’m starting to get a handle on a peaceful, intellectual religion that would really appreciate being understood and accepted so that it could stop having to explain over and over why they are not terrorists or misogynists.  I hope I’m doing my own tiny part with this blog post.  I also had a chat with a nice Presbyterian pre-school teacher and her husband who were invited by her co-teacher (who is Muslim).  The crowd at the dinner was amazing.  There were priests, nuns, rabbis, ministers, and a bunch of different lay people of various ethnicities, Muslim and non-Muslim alike.  When I ran into M, who was rushing around with a camera interviewing people (she eventually got a hold of me too), I told her, “Everyone needs to come to this!”  She said, “I know, right?”

As the evening prayers began, I said goodbye to H and M and headed out.  The main sanctuary was bursting with people gathering for Taraweeh and the parking lot was packed.  It was 10pm.  I got in the car, scarf still on my head.  Eminem’s new song came on the radio and I felt like an anachronism; white Catholic girl in a scarf leaving a mosque that was hosting an interfaith dinner, singing along to trashy pop rap.  Now this is an America I can be proud of.

This morning, I got a quick run in and then Dan and I went over to Ben’s for a pancake breakfast provided by my mom, who drove down with Guido just to spend the day in Columbus.  The pancakes were great and we all huddled around the table taking turns getting the next pancake and chatting about how Guido and Dan somehow always end up buying the same shoes (It’s weird, really; I think they are somehow cosmically joined at the feet).  Of course, with all the eating and chatting, I forgot to take a picture.  Oh well.

After breakfast, we went outside to play some cornhole (everyone else) or just sit around (me).  Here are my mom and I relaxing:

Next time, let's do this in Duck.

And here was the view (at least for a minute) from my seat:

The back of Ben and Rachael's heads

Tonight, I’m heading to the interfaith dinner at the mosque and will blog about that asap.