A dose of SPRING!

DC's horrendous winter weather taught me just how much I despise the cold. Genuinely cannot stand it. My spirits decline. I merely survive, trudging through the dreary days. After a solid three months of boots and thick scarves, 23 of my 24 hours spent indoors, I have decided that if I can help it, I will never live somewhere that has surpluses of below freezing weather and snow. God made too many other beautiful places in the world to deal with that.

This weekend, though. It was like the winter's end in Narnia -- DC transformed almost overnight from a mild arctic to an arena of sunshine, flower petals and tourists. Cherry blossoms were in full bloom, as were my spirits. My shoulders are sunburned, but that is quite alright. My Vitamin D deficiencies probably needed a little toasting. With the exception of looming exams, I packed this weekend with all kinds of fun. As much as I love home and look forward to reuniting with the Compton Clan this Saturday, I'm despondent to depart from IJM and the groove I've settled into here. My time in DC has been fantastic, but if I could've enjoyed this weather in DC every weekend, oh man. I might not leave. It turns out a full weekend of spring - composed of spaghetti straps, outdoor activity and even a little pollen - was all that was needed to clear up my winter blues. For my last weekend in DC (HOW did that happen?!), I prescribed myself the maximum dosage.

Friday I ventured into the crowds around the tidal basin to witness both cherry blossoms dancing through the wind and groups of tourists congest the pathway. After a packed week at work, it was so nice to decompress by myself and do two of my favorite solitary activities: walk and people watch. I sat on a slanted patch of grass for almost an hour trying to keep an accurate count of the number of Caucasian male-Asian female couples that passed by. 

Saturday my fellow intern Allegra, her roommates and I ventured to Shenandoah National Park to conquer Old Rag Mountain. This trail comes with a host of horror story rescue operations and large people with even larger confidences who are decimated on this trail; the Boy Scouts (if some of them were my sons, I would have more prudence in what they signed up for) that congested our way up may contribute to these tales. The rock scrambling toward the top, however, was not too challenging and a great deal of fun; it makes me want to pursue climbing more. The 360 degree summit view certainly was worth it. Best lunch of the semester. Good company, too. Allegra's roommates, who I had never met before, provided great trail companionship.

After saying farewell to all the friends I have made at the Falls Church Anglican Sunday, I met up with Heather and her friend in Old Town Alexandria, which reminds me a lot of downtown Charleston. We walked to the waterfront, rented bikes and cycled ten miles out to George Washington's stately home via the Mt. Vernon Trail. I stepped back to the late 1700s and conversed with Martha Washington about corsets and letting go of hoops for the Revolutionary cause. Most of the time I think I'd like a pretty small, quaint house, with "just enough" room. Then I spend time on the South's aristocratic plantations with lots of land and manicured lawns. Despite their dark history, I think to myself, This life could be pretty awesome, too. I'm so grateful to enjoy a little slice of that at Sugah Cain whenever I want.

After our bike ride back, I raced to my apartment to meet Jill and Allan Bellacicco. These two are dear family friends; Hoffa and Allan both attended Summerville Academy and were roommates together at The Citadel. Allan and Jill treated me to dinner at the Curious Grape in Shirlington. This is one of those places where you have an idea of what you're ordering, but there are so many specific ingredients in the description that you're not sure what you'll actually be eating. Seared Kampachi, for instance, with Sicilian tabouli, pomegranate, crispy farro, and sauce arrabiata. In English this means the best fish I've had in my life bursting under a bed of crunchy citrus flavor with just a little kick at the end. Plus it was specially paired with an equally fancy wine. The only thing better was the company.

As this season of living in the nation's Capitol comes to an end, I'm so grateful to have transitioned into nicer  weather, enjoying new and old friends and tons of time outside. This past weekend really was my favorite weekend in DC. The winter is done, the work is over. Even as I return to Charleston, I pause and give thanks for the many new experiences of my young adulthood. Changing seasons - in time or in weather - allow us to cherish each moment, knowing that it won't be like this for long.

Pasty white, but soaking up some sun!

Lindsey & Allegra

Rocky Ridgeline of a trail

Martha Washington

Mandatory

Most people, including myself, are not fans of being forced to do anything. What you would have happily completed voluntarily all of a sudden becomes a chore - an obligatory hassle - that must be done by a certain date. Just consider a book in high school that you had to read for class. For your 17 year old self, practice and movies and friends are all much higher priorities. You skim through the book, rely on Sparknotes, BS the paper, and make it through the test. The following summer you're hanging out with a childhood friend and on the bedside table is the same book. He loves it. Why? He's reading it by choice, and that makes all the difference. The joy is usurped by the requirement to read.

There is a reason rules and mandatory obligations are put in our lives. Most of the time, they really are in our best interest. I have found that to be particularly true this semester. LCWS has quite a few requirements for students to accomplish by the end of the semester. Along with our weekly field trips, we also must complete 12 hours of community service as well as attend a committee hearing and a protest or demonstration. I'm a go-getter, and I like to seize the day, but I know I wouldn't be doing these things otherwise. I probably wouldn't even be making time for service, which is something I am quite passionate about doing. The reality is, by the end of the workday, I'm wiped. All I want to do is scavenge for some dinner and chill.

But alas, I am rarely vegging on the couch. Though I may gripe beforehand, I have typically found myself enjoying these outings and learning a lot. Yesterday, I observed my first protest. Hundreds of young environmental hippies marched from Georgetown University to the White House to oppose the Keystone XL Pipeline. Though they chanted "Hey Obama we don't want no pipeline drama," but they were certainly creating a social movement ruckus themselves. If constructed, this underground pipe would carry over 830,000 barrels of crude oil from Canada to the Gulf Coast. According to the protesters, it would have detrimental effects on the environment.

I'm not a very political person, but it was really fascinating to watch all of this play out. Regardless of one's leanings, the fact that Americans have the right to gather and speak out against the leader of our country is pretty astounding. I heard it was the largest protest in front of the White House in years. What's more, hundreds of them also zip-tied themselves to the White House fence in protest and were then arrested. Actions like that, where a real sacrifice is required, speak louder than the rhetoric of the speeches and chants like "President Obama just say no, XL Pipeline's got to go," catchy as it may be. They practiced civil disobedience at its finest, and for that, I admire them. I even think the president may be influenced by their actions. Also, most of the time I am so ill-informed about current events. It's a neat feeling to see something unfold in front of your eyes that will be on the news later that night.

Here was another not-so-admirable observation, though. Many of the protesters dawned grungy clothing and were a few days overdo on a shower. Others were smoking pot throughout the march. During the civil rights movement, African Americans donned their finest church clothes to march. At work, we're required to professional suits, our "costume of credibility." I acknowledge that this look  is part of the stereotypical culture of this green demographic, but their appearance detracted from their message.

Intimidation factor

Then, there are the mandatory weekly field trips. For my Global Agenda class this past Wednesday, we went to the Heritage Foundation to listen to a lecture titled Fighting Terrorism under the Rule of Law: The Israeli Experience. You can imagine how excited I was about this. But once again, it was absolutely fascinating. Israel is the only democratic nation in its region, and it is faced with some serious military strategy challenges when fighting against countries who do not play by the same rules.

Colonel Eli Bar-On
Deputy Military Advocate General, Israeli Defense Force

Later on that day, the whole group visited N Street Village. This kind of thing actually does excite me. People are able to love, serve, and empower those in worse circumstances than themselves. That is awesome, and N Street Village does it well. Cheery and bright, the walls were decorated with crafts made by the women who visit or live there.

Then there is plain old mandatory school. I wasn't quite as enthralled researching and writing about workers' rights and consumer empowerment this past weekend, but even here there were some pros. It was the first legitimate paper I've written since, oh, last April, so it was rough going at first. I confess, though, it was kind of nice to grease the academic wheels and really learn something new.

 So I encourage you, at your own pace, go back and find that high school book. If you are anything like me, you just might enjoy it after all.

Post-Script: That is snow, again. I think I have mild Seasonal Affective Disorder. I am sick and tired of winter, and Virginia officially has its own bipolar issues. Seriously. It is March. In Charleston, it is currently 66 degrees, over double the current temperature here. I'd like to walk outside on a pleasant day, please.

Relapse 1 - NYC

In 2007, the Compton Clan ventured on our first summer adventure to Ireland. Once as I walked through a vibrantly green pasture of sheep on a typically misty Irish morning, I contracted a sneaky disease.

Customs did not detect it on my return flight, nor did the Red Cross the first time I gave blood. It was so subtle, quietly developing in the core of my being, that even I didn’t notice for a while. It was there though, and it was malignant, fed by the family’s annual adventures…hiking in Yosemite, returning to pick cockles in Ireland, cross-country skiing in Oregon,  exploring Whistler and Vancouver, relaxing in Costa Rica. Each trip, it became stronger, taking over a little more of me. After a month in Cambodia and a semester of day trips and weekend jaunts throughout Europe this past fall, the Travel Bug has permanently found a host in me. There is no battling it. Yes, it can be subdued for a little while, but if I’m stagnant too long, I start itching to follow Mark Twain’s advice and “sail away from the safe harbor.”

Don’t get me wrong – I love D.C., and life has been anything but boring. Still. This is a strong Bug that I have caught, and it must be appeased. I began itching toward the end of January, and I quickly found myself evaluating my free weekends. Where I could go? Who could I visit? Several Megabus and Amtrak tickets were purchased one night, and Adventure beckoned.

I confess, I’m not one to battle this Bug too persistently; as long as I have the money and time, I see the demands it brings as welcome maintenance. I suppose I had my first remission this past weekend. Given the day off for President’s Day, it was pretty inevitable I would succumb to the Travel Bug. A group of IJM interns and I made a jaunt to the Empire State – the big apple, concrete jungle, city that never sleeps.

New York City. I’ve only been once before on a 7^th grade school field trip. I remembered being turned off by the dirtiness and lack of trees, and my memory had not failed me. It was a sloshy, snowy, freezing mess of a weekend. Even with the pollution and the dreadful weather, it satisfied my “disease.” I enjoyed getting to know my fellow interns better, feeling the magic of Broadway, and exploring the city for myself.  

Here’s a photo timeline of the weekend. Clearly, the bug is rapidly progressing. Discoveries made during my “first remission” will be published tomorrow.

Preach it, Subway

Cheap, easy transportation

 

It is too easy to step into a six inch puddle of snowy, half-melted slosh. Ask Vanessa.

Allegra and Lauren in Times Square

Empire State Building on Valentine's Day

Lebanese Shish Kabob, anyone?

 

Snow and cold at Ground Zero. Not fun. For such a sacred, thought-provoking monument, all I was thinking was, "Get me freaking inside that warm pizza shop. South Carolinians do not know how to deal with this.

Fifth Row to watch twenty handsome, energetic young men sing and dance. I'll take it!

Browsing the menu at Arabesque Restaurant & Lounge. Coolest ambiance and very authentic.
Morocco is now on my mental list of places to travel to.

Does this mean Spring might come after all?

Very long Sunday walk through Central Park.

I'm so grateful I joined in on this adventure. Thank you Allegra for taking the initiative to do a lot of the planning and organizing. It was a snowy blast!