era nine keen vine rake k ark air rain kirik ink kin

one trash bin a year!

2009-06-26T09:27:00.001-07:00

my favorite tip (at the end of the article) is to leave your house with your own take-out containers. ...now why didn't I think of that?

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/one-trash-bin-one-year-one-clear-conscience/article1197142/

ha ha ha...

2009-02-03T18:32:00.001-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?gl=CA&hl=en&v=8TpjtwJws24&&fmt=18

way to go, Mennonites of Canada...

2008-11-28T09:40:00.001-08:00

http://www.buynothingchristmas.org/

sweet, simple jellybean lyrics.

2008-10-29T14:56:00.000-07:00

If there are two kinds of people in this world (those think music exists for lyrics, and those who think the opposite), then I'm the first kind. this song is an example of why.

...sadly, dave'll have to wait till next Monday to check it out on you tube!!!

http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=ojhBroJzV08&feature=related

coming?

2008-10-22T07:51:00.000-07:00

Hey folks,

The epaphaneia conference is happening again this year in March.

Last year they didn't have one, but I went to the one two years ago at the Meeting House in Oakville. It was totally worth the trip.

I think the keynote speakers this year include Stanley Hauerwas, Marva Dawn, and Walter Wink. (sweeeet!) (previous speakers have included brian mclaren, ron sider, shane claiborne, jim wallis).

It's a bit pricey, but I think worth it...If we get a group of 5 or more people, the tickets are $10 cheaper ($69 per person instead of $79).

Go here: http://www.epconference.net/ to find out more.

success!

2008-07-27T23:33:00.000-07:00

I guess everyone has their own definition of success, but in the "volunteer-group-trip" category, my own definition includes plenty of new experiences, helping and being useful, making new friends, and good times all around.

So...I'm happy to report that the first (but hopefully not last) Knoxite visit to Estonia was a smashing success!

The boys arrived Monday. The plane was slightly delayed (due to a number of circumstances, including misplaced library books, passports, and chicken wings), and although we didn't get to go out for dinner, we did have 'lihapirukad' on the road, which I think was almost as good (other new food experiences of the week included: four different kinds of porridge, rye-garlic bread, "kohukesed," tatrapuder, pilvi's sauerkraut, kiluvôileivad). In fact, throughout the week, like true Canadians they politely ate everything that was put in front of them. (I was less polite when confronted with fish sandwiches for breakfast.)

On Tuesday, we visited a halfway house for Estonian and Russian boys. Alex, Patrick, Ken and Glenn played, sang, and shared some experiences. And, afterwards, the team mercilessly smoked the boys at a "friendly" soccer game.

Wednesday was manual labour day (lawn mowing and wood chopping mainly), and Thursday the boys led the Rakke congreation in an amazing service. But the fun really began on Friday! Despite twisted ankles (Alex), sore backs (me), and sheer exhaustion, camp was lots of fun. Highlights included: unhealthy amounts of soccer and baseball, two campfires (including one massive bonfire), and the introduction of a previously unknown, yet timeless, camp activity: making gimp bracelets. Even before it was over, kids were asking about next year's camp! And the "teismelised" (teenagers) told us that camp was "lahe" (cool).

Finally, our last weekend in Tallinn was everything a Presbyterian weekend in Eastern Europe should be! (...and if you don't know what that is, I'm certainly not going to tell). See the pictures that will be posted on flickr in the next few days, or ask one of the boys for more details.

Next time you see them, be sure to thank Alex, Ken, Glenn, and Patrick for doing an amazing job representing Canada! And Knox!

...I'll join you: Thank you!!!!!

mowing the "lawn"

2008-07-07T12:16:00.001-07:00

I have never loved mowing the lawn.

It's something that I usually do grudgingly when visiting mom in Scarborough.

So, when I was informed that part of my job description in Avispea would be to occasionally help out with this task, my smile of aqcuiecence was somewhat less than genuine.

...When the day finally arrived, I resolved to get it over with as quickly as possible. "From the road to the house? no problem. (Then I'm done, right?)" Pilvi's response was yes, technically, but that I probably wouldn't get all the way to the house by myself. In my loud Canadian way, I immediately disagreed. Don't worry, I said, I'll have this done in a jiffy.

Over an hour later I had barely made a dent. In fact, it took nearly 3 gas tanks and nine hours to make it all the way to the house, not to mention a ton of water breaks.

...Strangely, though, each time I mow the lawn, I enjoy it more. Every time the gas tank empties, I sit on the step in stunned silence, marvelling at the flatness of the lawn I've finished and looking with fear at all the individual blades of grass I have yet to mow, (partly, wondering why we bother clipping and manicuring God's greenery anyway, when it grows back with mocking vengeance in a few short days).

It's also a zen thing: one's mind slows down in a unique way when one's body is working for hours on end at a mundane and repetitive task.

Consequently, if anyone offers to finish the lawn for me, I stubbornly refuse. Conquering this grass has become a point of honour. And it's a terrific workout.

...actually, I have yet to finish whole thing by myself. But, despite hands that vibrate for hours afterwards, spots in front of my eyes, intense dehydration, aching biceps, and calluses on my hands, I will persevere. I will mow the "lawn" all by myself before leaving this place.

2008-06-23T01:55:00.000-07:00

"Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that.

Don't be impressed with yourself.

Don't compare yourself with others.

Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life."

(Galatians 6:4-5, The Message)

aaaaaah!

Living Simple, or Simply Living?

2008-06-21T00:28:00.000-07:00

(Originally published here: http://empireremixed.wordpress.com/category/erika-kivik/)

Where I’m from, it’s hip to live simply.

And, as a socially-conscious-urban-type, I usually don’t mind if simplicity is thought to be sexy: “the simple life” is a game I have often played. I have even congratulated myself for doing so—after all, if doing good doesn’t hurt my self-image…so what?

Plus, when I try to live simply, I am sometimes rewarded by even bigger amounts of small—money saved, chemicals reduced, simpler thoughts thunk, and so on.

Yet, moving from a population of 3 million-plus to a town of 140, has thrown me: after several monotonous days of sorting simple things, to distribute to a community of people with simple needs (like food, clothes, running water, bycicle tires, and rides to the doctor), I’ve learned something about the simple life: it can be mundane.

I’m ashamed to admit my surprise that “living simple” is different than celebrating simplicity. The latter (that is, what I do in Toronto) usually results in a choice to buy local and organic food; a decision to purchase used furniture, clothing, books and music; and a desire to brew my own tea and coffee, or to ride my bike.

But when there’s no 24-hour grocery store, and—for goodness’ sake—no Tim Ho’s for the days I sleep in (dammit!), I find that I am no longer celebrating simplicity, but living simple.

Here are some examples that I hope will illustrate the difference.

I was sitting in “Karmeli Koguduse” church a few days ago with a headache that had started small but soon began to radiate (the electricity had been out all day and the combination of no caffeine and almost-24-hour sunshine had taken its toll).

As the minutes passed, the two-hour service transformed from an environment in which I was enabled to seek God into one where I didn’t care about anything—that is, except to run to out for a blessed cup of coffee, or even better, to a pharmacy that would sell me relief in pill-form…precisely what I could not do.

I was at the mercy of the environment I was in. I was living simple.

…Also, last week I finally got the chance to visit Rakvere, the biggest “city” around (that’s a population of 14,000, for you urbanites who would challenge my definition of city). I was in heaven, gliding freely through the “crowds,” and waiting in line to use the ATM; while Mati, aged 6 (who is always showing off and doing tricks on his bike at home in Avispea) nervously slipped his hand in mine in innocent, and gut, reaction to “all” the people.

As the day progressed, I began to notice more acutely something that I’ve been seeing since I arrived in Estonia (which is an unusual mix of “first” and “third” world at present—meaning the memory of living simple—the mundane kind—is fresh in everyone’s mind, even those who aren’t, anymore). What I have noticed is an awful lot of people dressed in sleek, hip hop, designer styles. Make no mistake—if you have the means to decide how to to express yourself, in Estonia, you dress show your status.

Gradually, I found myself frustrated that no one, probably, was appreciating my “I-don’t-care-what-I’m-wearing-je-ne-sais-quoi-urban-student” wardrobe…and suddenly it hit me: Oh snap! ...What happened to living simple?

estonian ettiquette lesson #2

2008-05-29T12:21:00.000-07:00

question: what do you do in rural estonia on the night before the last day of school when you need to buy flowers for your teacher...and all the stores are closed??

(a) go to another store? um, no. you're already in Väike Maarja, the biggest "urban centre" in the area (population 5000), and like I said, the stores are closed.

(b) not buy flowers? ...maybe give her chocolates instead? not an option. you're in Eesti.

hm. ... this is exactly what happened to us last night!

Thank goodness for mom (Pilvi), who provided us with option (c) : "äkki lähme vaatame kas metsas ôitseb midagi"? (I was trying to think of a translation for "äkki," but I don't think there is one. loosely translated, though, mom suggests: "maybe there's something blooming in the forest?")

eureka! so we popped by the forest on the way home. (literally. it was right on the way.)

as the pictures (above) demonstrate, the next steps were obvious. to #1. stick your head out the window until you find some flowers, #2. celebrate upon finding said flowers by taking lots of pictures, #3. pick forget-me-nots and lilies of the valley to your heart's content, #4. get your thread and scissors ready, and #5. create a bouquet that is fresher (and cheaper) than anything you could buy at the store anyway.

I feel so Estonian.

Päris Eesti Saun

2008-05-19T12:18:00.000-07:00

Future visitors of Estonia, please take note of a few simple rules in order to avoid ackwardness and mishaps when your new friends invite you to their home for a Saturday evening saun:

1. Bring your own towel, shampoo, and soap.
2. Always rinse off in the outer sauna/pesemis tuba (washing) room. Especially feet.
3. Upon initially entereing the sauna, try not to act surprised that the room is about 10 times as hot as any välismaa (foreign) saun you have ever been in, even the one at camp where you poured all that water on the rocks.
4. Don’t forget to pour some cold water on the wood before sitting down, so you don’t burn your bum.
5. Take off all jewellery, again to avoid burns.
6. Apply saunamett (sauna honey) generously to your whole body. Keep breathing. Contrary to what you might assume, your lungs are probably not singed yet.
7. Don’t feel embarrased that you’re not sitting on the top step with everyone else. They already assume you’re a foreign sissy but they’re much too polite to say anything.
8. When everyone goes outside the first time to sit outside/jump in the water/roll in the snow, just follow along. It's ok to scream a little. Actually it's encouraged, I think.
9. When whipping yourself with the kasevits (birch tree whip), don’t forget the souls of your feet.
10. During shower/outside breaks, you can drink beer.
11. If other people, or you, spontaneously stop talking and quickly fall asleep for 10-minute intervals during the post-sauna feasts and festivities, it's ok.
12. Afterwards, don’t be surprised if you feel dirty after getting out of the shower. Compared to the post-sauna state, you are.

I Think We’re the Orphans (originally published on Empire Remixed http://empireremixed.wordpress.com/)

2008-04-26T14:05:00.000-07:00

I was recently telling a roommate over breakfast that I often experience guilt over 'never doing anything as well as I could.'

In fact, it seems that a sort of 'performance anxiety' follows gen Y-ers around, whether we like it or not. (Actually, I think most of us feel more comfortable with some anxiety. If you don't agree, imagine a truly anxiety-free state of being for moment: ...pretty stressful, isn't it?)

...Later, washing the dishes, I began to muse: perhaps gen Y-ers are more likely to feel anxious today because it is no longer culturally acceptable to submit to authority?

Here's what I mean: recently, in the West, we have collectively removed the power(s) of traditional forms of authority. Government leaders, monarchs, parents, teachers, and pastors are no longer permitted to speak from positions in which total influence is assumed by either speaker or listener. Now, undoubtedly, this provides our generation with many advantages: speeches delivered by 'important people' to crowds of graduates (or other kinds of listeners) no longer seek to provide trite words of encouragement ("The future is going to be difficult! There are tough times ahead! But don't worry! [Insert goal here]...and you will be victorious!)

...Graduates have been educated too long on the topic of blind encouragement and its dangers.

Indeed, as a graduate of English Literature, what springs to mind is poetry that has sought to motivate, encourage, and inspire past generations. Written over a hundred years ago, Tennyson's "Charge of the Light Brigade" stirs up powerful and conflicting emotions. Beginning with:

Half a league, half a league,
half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
...

And concluding with sobering and poignant words :

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honour the charge they made,
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.

The poem is both beautiful and odious.

There are plenty of other poems falling into this genre (Rupert Brooke's "The Soldier" is a good one). Others (if interested, begin with the poems of Wilfred Owen and Sigfried Sassoon), oppose war with equally powerful words. Remarkably, Owen's "Dolce et Decorum est" is reacting to and dismantling the phrase Dolce et decorum est pro patria mori, words that speak in perhaps the most authoritative language possessed by the West (if language can be "authoritative").

And yet...encouragement and inspiration are a vital human requirement. Lines such as Tennyson's, which no one would dare preach to our generation (and, I think, rightfully so) are remarkably comforting. They are an answer to my soul which screams, "Tell me what to do and I'll do it!!"

Contemporary ears hear blind encouragement as infantile and backward. There are any number of reasons for this (existential crises; "God is dead," the postmodern sensibility, Greenday music videos, etc). But for now, it suffices to say that I am grateful that I don't have to believe in something, just because.

But, where does this leave us?...It seems that we are totally responsible for our actions, everywhere, and all of the time.

Consequences weigh heavy on us, exacerbated by the pervasiveness of laptops and blackberries, which bind us even more tightly to our daily tasks, while Babel-esque desires for Divine efficiency erode what little peace of mind we have left.

I wish it wasn't so. But, existential crises and performance-related anxiety are the products of our freedom. Perhaps we have unknowingly replaced explicit accountability to authority with an implicit accountability to our peers; or at least, we have projected our own angst-ridden fears of judgment upon one another.

For me, this presents a strange challenge: I know that it is logically impossible to do all things well; and moreover, that my 'need' to succeed is often a projection, a figment, or an over-zealous anticipation of what I imagine others think. Thus, to be the most authentic version of myself, I can't please everyone. And therefore, to do anything well (though not perfectly), I am actually capable of doing much less (quantatively) than I thought I could.

So…why do I want to succeed, anyway? Succeed at what? Says who?...What were we made for?

James says, "What do you know about tomorrow? How can you be so sure about your life? It is nothing more than mist that appears only for a little while before it disappears" (Jms 4:14).

Nobody is "mistier" than anyone else; and nobody, I say nobody, is perfect.

So, I guess we should stop feeling so anxious.

***

(p.s. Here's why it's wonderful and awful to be a gen Y-er:

"Theirs not to make reply / Theirs not to reason why, / Theirs but to do and die, / Into the valley of Death / Rode the six hundred."

The six hundred were not able to choose why they died. Thanks to our newfound freedom, we can.)

this is my blog

2008-04-14T20:48:00.000-07:00

this...is...my...first...post.