I came home from class the other evening, and I saw a police car parked perpendicular behind the row of cars facing our apartment. Two of our neighbors were blocked in during the nearly two hours of police interrogation occurring somewhere in our building. I went outside to see if I could figure out who was in trouble. I threw the basketball around for a good 30 minutes to keep from being spotted as a nosy neighbor. I saw the officer emerge from the unlucky bait…it’s the same apartment whose previous tenants fled after being suspected of stealing expensive cars. The same one whose tenant was arrested for having marijuana in plain view during a routine “who heard the smoke from the burning mattress” questioning. It’s not a lucky place to live.

I kept playing basketball to keep from looking too conspicuous. Twenty minutes went by and our serene little neighborhood changed completely. I heard screams, thuds, and more screams. An elderly Arab woman rushed out of the unlucky apartment and stopped in front of her door. She looked at me and screamed, “Help! Help!” I pointed to myself and asked, “Me?” She said yes and I chucked the basketball into the bushes and ran up to her. I looked in the apartment to find her two sons tearing each other apart. One had just ripped a wooden chair in two, and the floor was covered in trash. It seriously looked like the bottom of a hamster cage. Strips of paper. Completely ransacked.

Daniel’s mother and girlfriend pulled up in a van at that point. I looked down at his girlfriend and signaled for her to call the police. The sons were looking at me and said that everything was under control. I asked the woman if she wanted to come in our apartment to wait it out. She had no idea what I was saying. They shut the door, and I waited a few feet away. One of the sons emerged a minute later and walked right past me. Next the old lady came out with a seven-inch kitchen knife in her hand and a look of triumph on her face. There was no blood on the knife. I walked down to talk to the cop on the phone. Got in Daniel’s mom’s car, and she drove us away.

Twenty-five minutes later, the cops showed up. An hour or so after that, one of the brothers was taken away in handcuffs. It was then that I realized that the cops had shown up the first time after that same son smashed in the windshield of the family’s passenger van. I watched from the “I love you, Sarah” window as they took the dude away. I yelled out, “Ahlan wa sahlan,” and the cruiser was gone. I didn’t actually yell that, but I thought about saying, “Welcome to the neighborhood. It’s so nice to have you.”

Abu and family are moving out sometime within the next two days. They won’t be going too far – just to Mosby Court – but the move will undoubtedly change our relationship. I’m sad about it. Just thought you’d like to know.

Blake and My St. Pauli

Just kidding. Sometimes things happen. On Saturday, it was a little rainy so I couldn’t go to the park with Abu Huda and family. So I hung out with Abu Muhaned outside on one of the couches we gave them last year. It had been rained on and smelled like an unshaved armpit. We practiced my Arabic and Uhm Muhaned said that your Arabic is alhamdulillah. Abu told me an interesting story about you too. Something about a time when you were at a public pool and you were trying to enter the restricted section. Then someone called you an ape. It was really confusing on account as I don’t speak that لغة.

On Sunday, while you were lifting cars off of babies and having a “Gohood H-evening” with your Indian friend, I was at the JMU women’s CAA basketball championship against ODU. We won, and got an automatic bid to the NCAA tournament that starts next week. After the clock struck 00:00, I rushed the court and started filming with my phone. I was on TV, and my family took pictures of me on their television screen. It was a pretty sweet game.

Last night I went to Clementine to listen to some Indie Folk music while I sipped on a bottle of St. Pauli’s N.A. beer. Can you do that in Yemen? The guitarist looked like you if you had a mustache. Same skin color and hair type. Blake will verify it if you ask him.

Later that day, I went to Abu Huda’s for two and a half hours of playing outside, snacking on greasy chips, and helping Baha apply for a federal PIN to fill out Huda’s FAFSA. She was accepted to EMU and a school in Tennessee but is holding out for a “big envelope” from JMU. She should find out around the time you arrive in April. I left a bit after 7 with the promise to return the next day to finish the application and have dinner. I requested the Iraqi dish we used to eat so often last year: chicken with potato slices, that long yellow and white rice with raisins and peas, hummus, cucumber yogurt dip and lots of bread.

So. As promised, I returned the next day around 5:45 to finish the FAFSA application, eat dinner and play some games. Dinner was unbelievable. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. I thought that the only good thing about your not being here was that I didn’t have to share any of the food. I’m sure we can fight over the last piece of chicken when you get here in April, in sha’Allah. We watched Ratatouille while we ate. I was happy it wasn’t The Lion King for the 100^th time in a row. After dinner, Jafar cried and got sent to his room. I was wondering when he was going to show up. He had been a perfect little gentleman for the last two days, I was beginning to worry. When Jafar’s five minute time-out was over, we played some Uno. Jafar was freaking me out. Every time he had to “Draw 2” or even “Draw 4” he would laugh hysterically. Apparently he liked having a lot of ammunition. And no matter who played after him, he always looked at me with a snarly smile as he played a vengeful “Draw 2” card. The thing is, I was never after him. Poor Susu got stuck with a couple dozen cards at the end of both games. It was fun though. I won once. Jafar almost cried. Then he won a game and demanded my cell phone as a prize. When he started to get upset that I wouldn’t give it to him, his family told him that he would not be going with us to the park on Saturday. Reminded me so much of old times. I left a bit before 9.

The weather has been so warm these past few days. The high temperatures mixed with repeated Iraqi celebrations really does make it feel like the summer of ’09. Here’s to a great summer of ’10.

Jafar and Me

Funny how life happens, isn’t it? Remember Akram? The guy with seven kids who blessed the animals before they were killed? I said his son was shy and he made me some shai?

Well he and his youngest two boys, who haven’t changed a bit even though they’re a year older, came over to the parking lot today. I went outside and played with Layth and Firat (I think those are their names). We had fun…anyway, that was hours ago, but as I was getting ready for bed, I got the idea to look back at this day last year to see what I was doing. Funny enough, you, Zach and I were having dinner with Akram and his family. Here is an excerpt from that journal post:

Cooking was an experience. I had only an hour to prepare. Adem was a great help and did everything I asked of him. Koops came over to eat as well. He took instructions too. Adem peeled the potatoes. Koops cut the French bread and rubbed each piece with garlic and smeared them with butter. I put them in the oven and continued cooking. I cut the potatoes up into cubes and put them in a big pan with chicken broth until they came to a boil. I lowered the heat and topped them for about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, I had already seasoned and marinated eight chicken breasts, so I oiled a pan and put all of those pieces in then topped them with Italian dressing. They cooked slowly at med-low heat for about 15 to 20 minutes. Then I turned up the heat to reduce the liquid and brown the meat. I also heated up some string beans. We served dinner at 7:30pm. Each plate had a chicken breast, mashed potatoes, string beans and bread. Yum. It was really good. The potatoes could have been a little better. I think. Maybe some butter would have improved them. After dinner with Akram and his entire family, they left. Adem, Zach and I were all wearing thobes in honor of our Middle Eastern guests.

We left the dishes for later and walked over to Bahaa’s house. The whole family was there and Suha and Huda were preparing dinner. They forced us, of course, to eat with them knowing that he had just eaten dinner. It was difficult but I managed to fit in a little something even though I was so full. We left there and came home to do dishes. They said since I cooked I couldn’t do dishes. Heather and Liz and some of their friends came over to see the size of our apartment because they are moving in downstairs. They left. Adem and Zach finished the dishes. Zach and Adem looked at old yearbook pictures. Adem and I started getting ready for bed after Zach left. I brushed my teeth and took a shower. It’s 12:23 right now, and I am so tired. I’m going to read my Bible then go to sleep. Goodnight and Peash.

——

Good times. Look forward to more of them when you get here.

My Hotel

You won’t believe this: I was at work last week to chat with one of my many supervisors and one of them told me that there was a multicultural conference for Mental Health Workers in Cancun, Mexico in a few days. The person they had assigned to go and represent the company had an emergency appendectomy (as most of them are) and could no longer attend. I, apparently, was second on the list! I had two days to email my Friday practicum advisor so I could take a long weekend for a business trip to Mexico! I drove to Richmond on Thursday morning and got my mom to take me to the airport for my 2:44pm flight to Atlanta. I had a connecting flight at 5:30pm to Cancun and arrived that night at 7:31pm.

I walked straight out to the street to take a taxi to my hotel (because I didn’t check any luggage) and arrived around 8:30.

I had a little trouble checking into the hotel because my room was still under the other guy’s name. They let me drop my stuff off at the front desk while they made some calls to fix the mistake. That’s when I went outside and took this picture with my phone. I walked around for a few minutes and tried to find a local to say “hola” to, but, to my surprise, there were none. I was looking at the water when a bellhop or concierge dude told me my room was ready. It was 9 by the time I started unpacking my little suitcase.

There was a little bar/restaurant near the lobby, so I decided to get a late dinner and continue my quest to find a local. The bartender was Mexican, but I wasn’t drinking so I politely asked for an “agua” and a menu. No tacos! There weren’t any on the entire menu. What kind of Mexican restaurant doesn’t serve tacos? Luckily I didn’t want a taco, but I’m just saying, come on. I settled on a sandwich with guacamole (that’s what I’m talking about) and lots of turkey. I went to bed right after because check in for the conference was at 7am Friday morning.

There were people from all over the U.S. and Latin America. I won’t bore you with the details of the conference but it definitely lacked a Perry Lahaie to spice things up. It felt a little cultish even without the cauldron song of “Send Your Workers Forth.” We broke for lunch and a late snack before ending Friday night around 7 to allow people time to go out for dinner. I hung out with the people who were at my table for most of the day’s lectures. One woman, Lisa, was three years into a PhD program for Counseling Psychology and had spent 15 years working as a therapist in Belmopan, Belize before that. There was another guy, Kevin, who was a year younger than me and just graduated with his Masters in Counseling from a small school in Ohio. He was a genius and really humble too. He graduated from Ohio State when he was 19 years old with a degree in Psychology. Crazy. Two other guys from Florida and a woman from Michigan were also with us. They seemed to know each other from previous conferences and didn’t talk much to Lisa, Kevin or me. We all went to a comedy/dinner theater restaurant. It was in English and made up of a mostly American cast. We decided to do something more cultural on Saturday night because the comedy show was a bust.

Saturday was the last full day of the conference. Lots of speakers, group exercises and times of personal reflection. We each had to present, within our groups, what information, knowledge and newly acquired skills we were going to take back to our companies after the conference. I wanted to laugh because of how crazy the whole thing was. I couldn’t believe I was there in Mexico for a conference with people so much more educated and experienced than I was. I made a nice little speech about the importance of always keeping an open mind about cultural practices no matter how learned you think you are about a specific people group – there is always more to learn and not everyone fits a stereotype.

Saturday was amazing. A bunch of us decided to try to find a locals’ hangout to get dinner and take in some more of the Mexican culture. We ended up taking a taxi through a really sketchy part of the city…the driver told us to put the windows up until we were completely through. That’s how sketchy it was. Once we were safely through, the driver took us to a really cool courtyard style “discoteca” without a roof. The lights were too bright so I couldn’t see any stars, but the hilarious live polka music was enough to keep my eyes on the ground. Everyone was just dancing, and I didn’t see anyone getting drunk or being really obnoxious. That’s the part I liked the most: just people having fun. I thought about what you and Zach would do if you were with me. It would have been cool to have you there because of the mood of the place. I can’t really put it into words. It was just enchanting.

We got back to the hotel at 1:30 in the morning. We knew we were going to be dead tired for the breakfast lecture Sunday morning, so I went right to sleep. When I woke up, I was back in Harrisonburg and still feeling jealous that I was not in Yemen with you and Zach. So jealous that I had to make up an entire international excursion just to keep from buying a plane ticket and meeting you at the pyramids.

I am very much looking forward to seeing you here at the apartment this summer. Take care of yourself until then. I’ll talk to you soon.

Peace.

So happy to have this guy up my nose.

Yesterday was so much fun. This is what I did:

…

Slept.

Watched some television online (in my bed).

Ate (in bed).

Did some homework (you can guess where).

Went to Wal-Mart for some drugs. Bought everything they had for head and sinus congestion. Even a little steam inhaler.

Back to bed with some tea before calling it a night.

The End.

…

While I was perusing the decongestants last night, I ran into Ahmed, Imad, Filah and another Iraqi I had never met before. Ahmed had a manicured face. Seriously. His hair was cut like a Puerto Rican rapper. Even his goatee looked professionally tweezed. I told him he looked like an American because he was wearing gangster-print clothes, although they were much tighter than even He would wear. It was nice running into those guys. I ran into them again in the parking lot where they had been for ten minutes trying to figure out where they parked their car. Funny enough, they left it right beside mine.

Huda’s birthday was yesterday. I was sad to call in sick to the party. She was disappointed. I realized that my “polite talk” may have clouded my attempt to let her down easily. I told her, “I would love to come, but I am sick.” She latched on to the “I would love to come” part and seemed shocked to learn that I was too ill to go to her huflah.

…

I woke up before 6 this morning. Nose was stuffed up. Head was spinning/floating. I decided that then was as good a time as any to start my day. I eventually made it to class at 8 to teach a lesson in front of my peers. I hedged my lecture on the fall of the Aztec empire with an apology and admission that I probably would not remember much of the morning, given that my veins were pumping large amounts of Phenylephrine HCI.

I decided to get the mail for the first time in two weeks on my way back from class. I got a nice letter from the IRS letting me know that I owe about $1,200. Isn’t that awesome? Apparently, I got a $600 stimulus check that I should not have gotten and was taxed $500 for claiming my self as a dependent when my parents already had for their 2008 return. Only catch is, I never got a stimulus check. I have to write a letter explaining the mistakes and hopefully get all of those penalties removed from my record. I put the notice and the rest of the bills on the floor and jumped in my bed for a nice nap. No sense in worrying about that now. I’ve got too much Acetaminophen in me to think about money problems.

I called in sick to work and found out that my afternoon class was cancelled for some reason unbeknownst to me. I thanked Jesus anyway. I really didn’t feel like changing out of my pajamas to float to another class.

It’s snowing now. It’s crazy. I really don’t understand this weather. Harrisonburg City Schools closed early to get the kids home safely.

I am going to sniff some Vicks and maybe read a book or something. I hope you are doing well. I look forward to seeing you someday.

Grace and Peace.

*A baby and me in Venezuela*

I think I have the flu. I got what they call the “flu shot” three months ago to ward of many strands of the virus. I guess I contracted a different strand. Lucky me. I have spent the last two days in a horizontal position with bits of toilet paper stuck up my nose; it helps with the drainage. I drove to my parents’ house yesterday so I could celebrate my older brother’s 28^th birthday. I was so knocked out during the drive because of the whole being sick thing, that I am surprised and thankful that I made it without veering off the road or falling asleep. I was only home for 24 hours, which was enough time to say hello, do some laundry, go to La Casita Mexican Restaurant, sleep for a bit, take a shower and have some beer can before driving back to the apartment. Oh. I should explain the beer can reference. You see, I spent most of those 24 hours laughing because (1) that’s what my family does to me and (2) I was hopped up on every decongestant I could get my hands on. Anyway, my sister told me that if I said “beer can” with a British accent, it would sound like “bacon” in a Jamaican accent. As soon as I said it out loud, I laughed. When I woke up this morning, my dad told me he made beer can for breakfast. Only he said American “beer can” and not Jamaican “bacon.” But to be clear, I ate bacon and not a beer can.

Sir, I am getting antsy over here in this country of ours. I find myself longing for the days of warm weather, international cuisine, speaking a language other than my own more often than not, seeing things, telling people about Jesús, teaching kids and having real conversations with close friends. Ken tells me I can have a lot of that right here at home. I think it’s true, but it’s customary for me to skip ahead to prepare for what’s next. That may be where the antsy-ness comes in: I’m at a point in my life where I don’t know what’s coming next. I will be in school for the next 15 months, but everything after that is a complete mystery.

I had some time to think when I wasn’t sleeping during my drive home today. I was medicated and extremely exhausted, but my mind was still working. And I didn’t actually fall asleep, but I thought about that too. So, after I nearly fell off the mountain or ran over the little reflector thingies in the middle of the highway, I experienced a nice jolt of energy or adrenalin that really perked me up. It was during those brief states of lucidity that I thought about Venezuela and the much simpler life I had down there. Those thoughts, mixed with some heavy tranquilizer-style decongestants, made me want to figure out what happens after these next 15 months. Then a happy song came on the radio. – - – I was brought back to my reality and comforted with the understanding that God knows what’s next. I don’t have to. I’m okay with that. I will always want things. He will always give me everything I need. No matter how far my mind or I stray, He will always lead me back to Him. – - – It was at that time that I ran off a cliff and began to plunge several hundred feet to meet my Maker. But before I made impact, I woke up and I was pulling onto West Grattan without a scratch on me.

I apologize for this post. To remind you, I am heavily medicated. I hope my message reads clearly. If not, I will tell you again in fewer words: God is good. He knows what’s up. We can take comfort in that.

I am going to sleep now. Looking forward to getting up early and making some beer can.

Grace and Peace.

Snow. Last Thursday, I went tubing with my parents, sister and aunt, as we do every first week of February. We had fun, but they had to drive back home at the crack of dawn to beat the snowstorm that was approaching. It snowed all day Friday. That night, Blake, Melissa (downstairs neighbor) and I went sledding/snowboarding at Ban’s old elementary school. I wiped out when the snowboard submarined under the nearly two feet of snow. It stopped snowing around 5pm on Saturday night. Blake and I washed three loads of laundry each at that laundromat near Food Lion. On the way home we rented Paranormal Activity and invited Melissa up to watch it. Dumbest movie. Ridiculous is more like it. Very Blair-Witch-esque. Don’t waste a Redbox dollar on it. Church was cancelled on Sunday. We watched the Superbowl at the Rock House. Go Saints! Some of the commercials were really funny and/or outrageous. In one, this guy interrupts his lady’s book club because she’s serving beer. I love the last line of it. Check it out. Now, I am sick of the snow. Two feet last weekend. It snowed off and on all day yesterday. It’s snowing right now, which is adding on a few inches to the ice/snow/slush mixture we already have littering the earth.

Toyota. My car is on one of the lists as possibly having problems with the driver side floor mat and accelerator pedal. I have yet to do anything about it or see if my car was manufactured with a bad batch. We shall see what happens with that.

Apartment search. Since Blake and David Murphey are moving out this summer, I have been weighing my options for next year’s living sitch. Blake and I had lunch at the Smith’s on Sunday. They are redoing/finishing off their attic, which they had kind of offered me a while back. I think you were there when we had that conversation. Anyway, through the course of that afternoon, I picked up on the possibility that the attic would have two beds and two tenants. One would be me. And one would be…Nate. I thought they were joking. There is an Iraqi/Kurdish Christian renting a room from the Smith’s. His name is Daniel. Anyway, I asked him when he was moving out, hoping to take his room. He said he didn’t know. I do have another option. David Murphey has two friends who are looking for a cheap place to live. He promised me that they are “chill.” That quality is a must with me. I don’t think I could live with someone like me. I’m okay in isolation, but with another one in the bait, it would be like two beta fish in the same small tank: someone would end up dead. David Batto is also looking for a new place to live. He has been housesitting for the last four months. At a huge, museum-style casa in the middle of the woods. Very Stephen King-like. Anyway, he came walking in our house on Monday night. He immediately said, “I need to find a cheap place to live where I can set up hidden cameras for when certain people come over and pray. My group will pay for my place, but I want it to be as cheap as possible. If I live with college students, I will turn the cameras off when they are there. I just need to record what certain people do.” I don’t know how many times or in how many ways and languages I told him he was crazy. He agreed each time and tried to cover everything up with an “I’m kidding about that.” Creeper. Blake helped him email a few places on CraigsList, but not before suggesting that David live with me this fall. I about killed him.

No School. Classes were cancelled last Friday. They were cancelled on Monday. They were cancelled for last night. And they are cancelled for today. I haven’t actually been in the classroom in front of a professor since last WEDNESDAY! So, although the snow is nice to look at and even play in, it is ruining my routine. I am getting lazy. I was just telling Ken yesterday morning at our 6:30 meeting about how you used to motivate me to do more things – how I rarely, if ever, saw you waste even a single minute of time. I liked that. It encouraged me. You should come back and do it some more. Just for as long as you can.

Kill. We have been killing cockroaches left and right over here. Ever since the temperature dropped, they have come out of the woodwork. For weeks I saw them inside of the microwave. Not behind the door, inside of the encasement. I first noticed when I was checking the clock and it looked like some of the numbers were “out.” Upon further review, I saw a cockroach sitting motionless behind the glass/plastic that covers the digital clock. I about vomited. I sprayed that roach killer stuff like crazy. Funny thing is, we still used the microwave for about two weeks after that. I just threw it out on Sunday. We have a lot more counter space now. I might call to get this place fumigated when the weather allows for safe travel.

That’s all for now. I hope this post finds you well. Much love.

*Oh. I took that picture of the bread aisle in Walmart last Thursday before the big snow. Good thing I didn’t need any. People were stocking up like they were crossing the Saharas.

So. Julie Smith sent this email to 12 leaders at Covenant. I was not one of them:

Hey all,
am looking for regular ride for Jake Choi, a Korean believer , just back from military service and basically starting over at JMU.
wants to be a part of CCF and meet people.
we had given him a ride before and basically forgot him this Sunday — ugh!
do y’all know folks who come to CCF then 2nd who could give him a ride ?
he’s in  the apts on the corner of main and  MD/port rd across  main from the bank.
thanks so much.
juile

———

Zach, on the other hand, was one of its recipients. He thought it would be a good idea to “Reply All” and “CC” me with this:

From what I understand, Hunter Rush and Jake have become friends and spent some time together. Hunter, do you think this is something you can do?

Zach

———

Can you believe that? I couldn’t either. So I quickly wrote back to him saying:

Jerk.
No.
Don’t know him.
You are a tool.
This is why you could never be an usher.
I don’t go to CCF anyway.
Wait till your father gets home.

———

He responded a few minutes later:

Wow, I’m surprised by your response… I honestly thought you were friends with him. I thought you mentioned you had coffee with him at some point. I figured it would be perfect for you because it’s just a quick stop on your way.

I’m sorry I mentioned it.

My father?

Zach

———

At this point I was still incredulous. Shocked may be a better word. So I replied:

Do you not read our blog? Check out a post from about 2 weeks ago.

Your father will beat you. With a stick.

———

He opened the blog. Found the post. And saw the light. He expressed his new opinion with this:

Okay, now I understand the aggravated response. My bad, dude. Didn’t know he was a weirdo. No wonder he’s hungry for friends.

Zach

———

To end the email conversation, I wrote:

By the way, this correspondence will also be converted into a blog post.

———

Him:

of course.

———

Never a dull moment over here. I thank Zach for making my life so easy and uncomplicated. May God bless him.

Peace.

*And in case it wasn’t clear, I was thrown under the bus.