the week in brief

Coldplay is good - my old A Cappella group at William & Mary is better: I present to you "A Message," performed by W&M's One Accord - solo by Chris Newman, '12.


Also, HAPPY HOMECOMING, WILLIAM & MARY! HARK UPON THE GALE!




While you enjoy that, read on - much has happened for you all to be filled in on.

Sundays, on par with all others working for the church, are no longer the relaxing day involving verandas, sweet tea, and rocking chairs (I may be shamelessly stereotyping the South right now, but it's also what I'd love to happen on a Sunday afternoon in Belfast). A Sunday morning at Kilmakee Presbyterian, so far, has been attending church, joining a family for lunch/hill or river walking/and a nap. There is no sweet tea, which is sad, but it is "relatively" peaceful until the evening...which is when the real adventure begins. Our Youth Fellowship ("the rowdies," as they are affectionally called by other leaders) meets at 7:30 on alternate Sundays (the other Sundays, I join a church small group, and on those weeks, the youth meet on Saturday night). A Sunday night YF often consists of group discussion of spiritual things, tea/coffee (commonly referred to as a "cuppa"), biscuits ("bickies"), and good times had by all (approximately: "good craic"). It's good stuff.

Another aside: "craic" is pronounced "crack." Hilarious consequence of this - wanting youth to enjoy ministry activities usually results in leaders praying for "crack." Particularly, "good crack." Think about that one for a second.

Mondays are either free days or YAV meeting days, where the nine of us and Doug Baker gather to talk about our feelings and really awesome lives, or free days, which have often become "Tourist Mondays with Patricia," where Patricia Cope and I wander around the city, exploring all of the incredible/kitschy bits of the city - good craic all around. This is also the day Ginna usually can find time to get to a cabina (please correct my spelling, Ginna/Peru YAVs/South America Enthusiasts) for internet access, better known as Skype-date time. It makes Monday even more of something to look forward to.

Tuesdays are the long day - I join the volunteers at Friendship House South Belfast in the early afternoon to work with an after-school drop-in, then head back to the flat for a quick dinner and then head across the street to help out at Kee Kids, Kilmakee church's evening Bible club. That makes for about seven nearly-contiguous hours with P1-P7-age children (four-to-eleven-year-olds) - a bit much compared to my previous experience, but my elementary school teacher friends and family (Mom, Erin, Meghan Atkins, this means you) probably find this a little sad. Seven hours is really nothing. After Kee Kids, I meet up with a pretty fantastic guy named Jordan to lead our Youth Drama team - something spearheaded last year by Megan Buff (read about that experience here).

To be honest, on first approaching this ministry, I was thoroughly apprehensive - Megan minored in Theatre in university, had an article written about her work with this group on the PC(USA) mission connections website, and wrote and staged a one-act play with them in June. Big shoes to fill, if I say so myself.

Thankfully, this fantastic Jordan individual decided to step up and grab the reins of the Kee Youth drama team. This is wonderful for two reasons:
1) PC(USA) Mission co-workers and Young Adult Volunteers work in partnership with the communities they live in. Read more about it here, but essentially it means that we coexist with these communities, whether geographic, social, or spiritual, and empower their members to build the kingdom of God on Earth. Cool stuff.
2) I have no idea how to lead a drama group. I have some experience being IN drama groups, but very little practical experience in leading them (BCM@WM skit team is a different animal all together). This part of my placement is in the realm of "things people tell me to do, so I do them."

Wednesdays are generally a pretty relaxing day (when I don't lose a lens from my glasses, which happened last week - very frustrating to try and find something transparent when you can only see things that are strikingly different colors from their surroundings). On alternate weeks, Kilmakee hosts a senior citizen's luncheon for the Seymour Hill community - I generally help out by serving meals, making the speakers feel welcome, and sometimes providing a bit of music. Most Wednesday evenings , I find myself at KeeNote practice (notice a naming theme, anyone?), helping operate the sound board for the youth-ish (it's about 50/50, really) praise band, which leads worship on the first and third Sundays of the month. They're also gearing up for a trip to Thailand next summer, helping out with Compassion projects there.

Serendipitous moment of the year: The leader of KeeNote, Alastair, recently traveled to Peru to visit children he sponsors through Compassion. His group stopped by the Collique site, where Ginna spends some of her time during the week.

Thursdays, I usually find myself catching up with the various ministers I work for/with, Tom at Kilmakee Presbyterian, John, the minister at Dunmurry Presbyterian, and Mark, Dunmurry's youth worker/minister (haven't quite figured out exactly what to call him yet, although I'm definitely leaning towards minister). After any (or all) of these shenanigans, I head down to Dunmurry Village to help out with the Anchor Boys and Girls' Brigade from Dunmurry church. The Anchor Boys range from about four to eight years, and are the loudest, craziest bunch of children I work with all week (until Friday night, that is). I usually get just enough time with them to play a game or two (some kind of freeze tag/dodgeball combination, usually) and lead them in a song (they're rocking Bruce Springsteen's version of "This Little Light of Mine" right now), then I head downstairs to lead Bible class for Girls' Brigade Juniors. A much quieter (usually) group, I've been working through the provided 'Encounters' scripture course. Afterwards, I join the full Brigade (girls 9-17/18-ish for a bit of choir practice (so far, good craic). We're currently preparing for their 'enrollment service.' I'm not entirely sure what that means other than showing off how cool they look as a group in their blue jumpers, but I've succeeded in bringing the great tradition of African-American spirituals to the youth of Northern Ireland in the form of "Wade in the Water." We're starting on the cool solo bits next week. We also started on "Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing" this week - which is apparently a new hymn to most of Northern Ireland. And here I was, thinking it was an Irish tune (UPDATE: It's not. It's totally American. Read the first paragraph on the Wiki).

A third aside (or shout-out, in this case), in the form of a letter:
Dear Youth of FPC Richmond/Conferees at Montreat Youth Conference '09 Week 5,
Every time I sing this song with the Girls' Brigade, I CANNOT GET "POUR OUT THE GRAVY" out of my head. Thanks, Garrett. And maybe some credit to Jack, as well.
Love,
Andy

Fridays are also a Dunmurry/Brigade-filled day. I spend these nights with the Juniors' section of the Boys' Brigade from Dunmurry church, an even more raucous/violent/competitive group than any I see the rest of the week. Also, they're all (as are all young people outside of the States, at least relatively) REALLY GOOD AT FOOTBALL (soccer, to those of you not in the US. Which is most of you). I'm trying to implement some of Abby's awesome training advice in that arena (she's only the best NCAA Women's Soccer player ever), but primarily, I've been tasked with providing a twenty-to-thirty-minute structured program for them each week - which is currently building and playing drums. I haven't decided yet if it's a good or terrible idea, but they had a lot of fun this week, and hopefully when we meet again after Halloween, I'll be able to teach them all some drumming basics, and start a regular Fife & Drum corps.

Since I'm *usually* done with the BB at eight, I find some time to do my weekly grocery shopping at the Tesco in Dunmurry. Being the grocery fiend/foodie/hippie/yuppie that I am, Tesco isn't quite the experience of a Trader Joe's or Fresh Market, but it's the best I've got in walking/biking distance. And it has definitely satisfied our grocery needs so far.

Then I discovered my new Saturday morning tradition, with the help of Amy, Madeline, Lynnea, Stephen/"Phen", and Nathaniel: St. George's Market. It blows any Farmer's Market/Grocery Store/Fair Trade Festival/Richmond Folk Festival out of the water. Primarily because it's all of them, combined. Live, local music, local produce, delicious food, random fair-trade/recycled crafts (Even down to the rain-skirt, made of recycled tents. Best idea ever). Laura and Abby, we bought crepes freshly made by an actual French man. They were amazing, even for non-francophiles, so I'm sure that you two would have died in ecstasy.

After all the joy of the Saturday market, I got hopelessly lost on the public transportation system coming home, ended up in Lisburn, the next city down the road, instead of my small village, and made it home just in time for the Kilmakee Youth Fellowship's Spiritual Gifts inventory testing and viewing of "The Bucket List." After lots of internet failures, we finally got around to getting the young people through the questionnaires, and then I proceeded to cry my way through the last years of either Morgan Freeman's or Jack Nicholson's life (I say "either" as to not spoil the plot). WHAT A GOOD MOVIE.

Final aside: According to the youth, I look a lot like Sean Hayes. I disagree. What are your thoughts?

On the other Saturday nights, I meet with FUSION, which sort of sums up the reason I wanted to come to Northern Ireland in the first place. They're a group of youth interested in simultaneously building cross-community relations with Catholics/other non-Presby-Protestants and building that same sort of community within Kilmakee church and the Seymour Hill community. Sadly, we haven't had too much time to meet up to this point, because our leader Daphne (the wife of the minister at Kilmakee), injured her back pretty severely, and has just this week made it back to work. But, we have great plans for the future, including presenting at the Presbyterian Church in Ireland's (our denominational mission partner) Peacemaking Conference on November 7th, as well as fundraising for a trip to Berlin to learn more about the infamous wall and it's tearing-down there, to compare it to the "peace lines" of Belfast (Don't worry, friends in Germany, I'll let you know when we're coming!). Also, check out the Berlin Twitter Wall for some cool insights on that historic dividing line - brought to you by my awesome cousin - he was THERE when it came down.

And then we come back to Saturday night. What a week. The nine Belfast YAVs and Doug will soon be going on a retreat to Donegal - which will be my first foray into the Republic of Ireland (even though it's really contiguous with Northern Ireland/Province of Ulster - odd politics abound, which is probably the reason we're going there).

I continue to lift all of you up in prayer and thanksgiving, and as always, your prayers, support, and stories of your current adventures are much appreciated - and PLEASE bother me constantly about blogging more often - given the schedule, it may be the only way you get to find out about anything I do!

P.S. Sally, just because you didn't get direct blog shout-out in this post a) doesn't mean I don't think you're awesome, and b) means you get a paragraph all to yourself!

Food from the British Isles is Good: Andy's Own Sunday Sweets

I've pointed you all to Cake Wrecks, right? My dear friend Jen (who I actually don't know...but I want to be her friend) takes her Sunday post as a break from her usual lambasting of ridiculously decorated cakes to celebrate masterpieces of the pastry world! These "Sunday Sweets" have inspired me to create my own culinary blog - "Food from the British Isles is Good."

(Given the inspiration of Cake - here's the reading music for today - "Alpha Beta Parking Lot," by Cake)



Anyway - what I really wanted to share with you was the first recipe I've gathered on my journey - Plum Pudding! Think fruitcake, because you have to let it mature, but DELICIOUS.

Our story today begins with the Rev. John Braithwaite, the minister at Dunmurry Presbyterian Church (my second placement). After my first Sunday Service at their church, I was invited to the manse (the minister's home) for a Sunday Supper - which is quite a bit like Thanksgiving dinner in the States - loads of delicious food, gravies, veg, and delightful desserts. Before supper, we sat, had a spot of tea, and had a good chat. The Reverend's son was serendipitously back from the Congo for his brother's wedding - so it was quite a special occasion. This is where we get back to our story - Mary, Rev. Braithwaite's wife, pulled out a Plum Pudding for dessert - this is the sort of thing that you can't just whip up before dinner - it has to be saved, and let mature, like a good wine (or any wine, for that manner).

Nine months ago, Mary cooked up several of these puddings, and only pulls them out for the most important of occasions - like the brief return of a son from West Africa!

So here we go:

Compile the following ingredients.

Dry:
1/2 lb. plain flour
1/2 lb. breadcrumbs
1 lb. shredded suet (preferably vegetarian suet - not sure where you can get this in the States, though)
1 lb. dark brown sugar
zest of 2 lemons
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 grated carrot
1/2 grated apple
3/4 lb. raisins
1/2 lb. currants
1/2 lb. ground almonds
1 tsp. mixed spice - ground allspice, cinnamon, clove, ginger, nutmeg
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg, cinnamon, and cloves (extra!)

Mix all of these dry ingredients and then add 6 eggs. Divide this mixture between 3 bowls (plastic, preferably) and then cover tightly. Place in boiling water and keep at boiling for 4 hours. Store for an indefinite period - up to a year or two or more, probably - and when you want to use them, boil for two hours.

They're delightful with a cover of warm custard and ice cream, and Brandy Butter (mix a little unsalted butter, icing sugar, and a splash of brandy).

Traditional British Isles dessert. Enjoy (three months later).

Today, I took the train.

Shocking, isn't it? It wasn't that I necessarily needed to, I could have just as well hopped on a bus and made it back to my flat from Belfast, but, for adventure's sake, I took the train.

Today's reading music comes to you from possibly one of the best bands of all time ever, ever, ever (okay, maybe not, but they are my current obsession), The Weepies. Tune in and read on.



I do recommend watching that video and paying attention at some point, because while it might not be the best animated music video in the world, it's ADORABLE.

Anyway...today, I took the train. Before that, I bought a coat & scarf, and a Dr Pepper. Furthermore, I appear to have subconsciously starting capitalising things again. None of these things seems special, really, but for some reason, each experience seems to have left a very powerful impression on me.

First of all...coat shopping. If I haven't mentioned it before, it's cold here. And even as we're entering an indian summer here in Northern Ireland, that doesn't mean much for this humidity born-and-bred Virginia boy. Did I mention yet that it's cold here? So, after a meeting with all of the other YAVs, Nathaniel and I headed over to the downtown shopping district in Belfast, to a place called Primark. It's apparently been a favorite of the YAVs in the past, thanks to its cheap prices and HUGE selection...which would normally turn me off from shopping there (fair trade for the win), but, remarkably, Primark Stores Ltd. is committed to providing ethically traded products. Now, ethically and fairly traded still doesn't promise splendor and equality for all of those involved, but it at least makes you feel a little better than buying from, say, about half of Wal-Mart's clothing line. Check your tags...see where your clothes are made. Think about it for a while.

Enough about fair trade vs. free trade. Back to my coat. While Nathaniel was searching for long-sleeve tees and new jeans, I was wandering around the outerwear section of the store, trying to act like I wasn't intimidated by the flood of people with thick Irish accents surrounding me, and trying my best not to laugh at the lumberjack vest (think this pattern, but puffy...and a vest). Then I found a coat. It's very metropolitan (read: metrosexual), a black & white houndstooth pattern, sort of trench-coat-y. It looks awesome. So I'm happy.

Being happy with my coat, as material as this sounds, makes me feel a little more at home. I can head outside, put on my new coat and a nice red scarf, and feel warm...which makes it that much easier to smile at the folks walking by. It's great.

The Dr Pepper is a different story entirely. I never expected to admit this to the public, but I think it says something important about me: I have an embarrassing attachment to Taco Bell as comfort food. Not late-night hunger pang food (read: not texting my friends "OMG IT'S 2AM I NEED A TACO"), but comfort food. If I'm sad, I'll go get a taco. If I'm going on a long trip, the veggie option mexi-melt will do me right. I realise that this is odd, but it's who I am...I tried to change, especially when I was very officially a vegetarian for lent, but even then I couldn't resist...they offer every menu option with no meat!

Taco Bell (really, Mexican food outside of making it yourself) does not exist in Northern Ireland. I don't need to say it, but I will anyway...this is sad. So what's a boy to do?

Find some other comfort.

There are Subways EVERYWHERE. A KFC is opening in the town near my flat. I passed several McDonald's on my way into town today, and had a coffee at Starbuck's last week. None of these things appeal to me. Probably because I avoid them like the plague in the States.

Today, after I bought my train ticket home (£2.50, or about $4.15 US), I started perusing the little convenience store inside the station, intending to grab a copy of the Belfast Telegraph to read at home. Instead, I left £1 ($1.65 US) poorer and 1 Dr Pepper richer. You have to understand...there was a period in High School when I bought a Dr P every day. This lasted for approximately 2 years, then I just stopped drinking soda altogether, after realising what terrible things I was doing to my body. But now, drinking this delightful soda from the late 1800s reminds me of high school. I'd say that's pretty comforting.

(Incidentally, one of the places where I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life, the Roanoke Valley area of Virginia, has been called the Dr Pepper capital of the world. Go me for choosing good places to want to live.)

The capitalisation is a different story entirely. I used to, aside from formal communications and papers for school, not capitalise anything other than names of God or pronouns relating to God. For a while, it was a good reminder to me that yes, God is more important than anything else I could ever write about, and it almost became a trademark (people would know if I had sent a mass e-mail to my campus ministry because NOTHING would be capitalised. Except for God, Jesus, etc...). Then I realised that this really bothers some folks, and really, what ministry of love is it if you're ticking people off in every e-mail you send? I'd say it's not one at all.

(Forgive this aside, it's just an odd thing I noticed today.)

Finally, I took the train home. The ride from Great Victoria Street Station to Derriaghy Station isn't long at all, but it was just enough time to write a few postcards and really soak in the fact that yes, I'm living in a real suburb of a real urban area. A city with public transportation. A city with the original DeLorean factory. A city that cares about recycling. A city plagued by economic and social displacement. A city almost persistently covered in rain. A city with a rich cultural heritage that often goes unnoticed amidst the scars of its history.

Whenever I run into a member of Kilmakee Presbyterian, or really any Norn Ironer, I hear the same question (and I expect to hear it for quite a while): "Are you settlin' in okay?" The following story illustrates this:

On Sunday afternoon, Aileen, the organist at KPC, drove me around Belfast to enjoy the European Heritage Open Days. We toured Stormont Estate, where the Parliament meets and the First and Deputy First Minister hold their offices, a beautiful tribute to the Scottish Baronial style (Katy, Doug, and Mr. Irby, that architecture reference was for you three), and went searching for the old pump house at the Gas Works, which is now essentially a state office park. For the last bit of our tour, we wandered into St. Malachy's Church, which was, for that day, completely open to the public.

Arriving at about 4:30pm, we realised they would be setting up for their evening Mass, so we took a seat and just watched. We watched various parishioners filtering in, and other laypersons moving microphones and music stands around the altar area, all preparing for worship. It was a mighty thing, even without knowing the history of the church. The original plan was to house 7,000 worshippers in the space, turning it into THE cathedral for the Diocese of Down and Connor, but the parish decided during the Great Famine, when it was being constructed, that the money would be best spent elsewhere, alleviating the hunger of the people. And yet, the church still stands as a model of simple beauty within the city. Sir Charles Brett wrote of the interior of the church: "It is as though a wedding cake has been turned inside out, so creamy, lacy and frothy is the plasterwork." It's entirely true...after suffering the effects of two bombings by the Luftwaffe, the ceiling of the church remains incredibly beautiful.

Aileen remarked on her 'ecumenicalism' as we chatted about our visit to the church. I was reminded very much of our traditions in the PC(USA)...we find much of our liturgical inspiration in the Ordinary of the Mass, and personally, I try to incorporate much of the spirituality of the early church into my daily life...my feeble attempts at New Monasticism, Lectio Divina, and the like. Talking with our site coordinator, Doug Baker, about this today, we realised that these things just don't happen here. It's a theology of "other-ness." Which is scary.

Thus, I am challenged to live out this "New Monasticism" a la Matthew 18, even more, in the hopes that this Christ-like life will inspire change...not necessarily for Northern Ireland, or Kilmakee Church, or anyone here. At the very least, God can build a kingdom in me.

In all sorts of spiritual ways, I actually quite UNsettled. But I have a coat, I can go buy a Dr Pepper for £1, and I can take the train for £2.50.

Today, I took the train. It gave me time to think. Therefore, I am (settlin' in okay).