« July 2000 | Main | October 2000 »

RO - Part II

29 · Sep · 2000

There is something very surreal about being in a new country. It can be like stepping into a fairy tale or a nightmare from your childhood. As I sat there, alone in the Zurich airport I realised not one person passing me could possibly know my name. I could be anybody. No one knew anything about me – good or bad. There were no expectations, and best of all, no one that did know me back home would be able to find me unless I wanted them to. That, my friend, is freedom.

After trying the information desk a few times, Nick did finally find me. It was strange seeing him, knowing that I would from this point on, be trusting him with my life, yet we had only known each other for a short time. But we were as close as two people could be who came from entirely different backgrounds. We were completely taken with each other and excited about our adventure.

Back then Nick and I were romantically linked. We had dated some before I left Oklahoma and, in my mind, this trip was also a test for our relationship. Nick had made it clear that his intentions were to graduate from college and work in foreign missions. I was in love with him already, and thought this trip would be a good way for me to determine if I was cut out for a similar role. To complicate matters, I was about to spend a few weeks with his family, whom I had never met.

To start off right, he took me to an airport restaurant to have a glass of Rivela, a soft drink made from milk extract that tasted like a cross between ginger ale and creme soda. Looking back now, that drink was a good symbolic gesture for the rest of my trip- The same, only different. That is the way of the world, no matter where you go. Things are pretty much the same – only different in ways that are difficult to describe.

(Possibly, this is where the idea of using “milk” as the name of my artist management company and these memos came from) To be sure, Nick was thrilled to be showing off this lovely place that his parents had lived for 5 years, but I know he was equally nervous about how I would adjust.

The Swanson’s lived on the campus of ENBC (Eastern Nazarene Bible College), which is located in Busingen, just a walk from Schaffhausen. Schaffhausen is a charming village, often featured in Switzerland guide books. It attracts a lot of tourists; however, it is incredibly expensive to do much else besides float the Rhine river. After meeting Dwight, Kathy, Rachel (Nick’s sister who was about 13 at the time) and his best friend, Jon Burrows, we crossed the German border to do just that. Since I’m not much of a swimmer and I had jet lag, I stayed on the beach area to relax. I felt like I had moved into a theme park. Everything was so different and beautiful. My journey, in those first days, resembled more of a holiday.

The first challenge I faced, believe it or not, was there in Switzerland and it stemmed from an unlikely source: other Americans. Before leaving America, I believed that because the Swanson’s were American, I would be able to relate to them, that they would be a source of comfort to me because they too had once been in my shoes. But Dwight and Kathy had not lived in the US for 15 years. Not only did their behaviour and opinions of the world reflect this, but so did their humor. I was someone with no prior education, experience or warning about cultural conflict. Only months before I watched on national television my hometown be ripped open by a terrorist bomb. I could not have been in a more patriotic mood. Any slight, however small or unintentional, felt like a glaring insult to me. It was the first time in my life that someone suggested to me that being a US citizen meant anything but cause for celebration.

There was the added stress of little things. Like the fact that I could do nothing as I had done it only days earlier. Do you know what happens to a person when sleeping, eating, thinking and speaking patterns are all interrupted? Well, let me put it like this: If your whole life you have been a meat eater and then one day, without warning, you will not be able to buy another piece of meat again, only veggies, it will be a shock to your system. When it comes to adjusting to a new life, that is called culture shock. And believe me, no one is immune.

All day we take in information and process it through our eyes, ears, nose and mouth. What’s going in us affects what comes out of us. And if there is no one there to tell you that your reaction to all these new things is normal, that you will actually change and become the kind of person who can handle it, well, you start to wonder if you can handle it. The Swansons, who were packing up their own lives to move to an unfamiliar place were in no position to cater to an angry, confused young woman who probably appeared to be pretty ungrateful to their hospitality. Nick’s father, Dwight said he liked my “German quality” meaning that he thought I was a blunt person. I took it as a compliment.

To top off my less than intelligent introduction to life as a missionary, Nick wanted me to hike the Alps with him while I had the opportunity. It was hard going up, but he wanted me to see the view so much, I drudged on until I thought I would collapse. (I never did make it up that freaking mountain, though it sure seemed like I had hiked for days.) A sniffle that had began the day before turned into a full blown head cold and by the time I had thrown one leg in front of the other to get back down the mountain, I was soaking wet and cold from the rain. Never mind the fact that I could hardly move my legs, I was now delirious from a fever!

What then, do you think happened? Yes. The car broke down. I have a very vivid memory of sitting in the car while Nick went for help. I felt so far from home, so unsafe and I started to get more than a little paranoid. I actually got to the point where I had conjured up images of Nick getting kidnapped by a Swiss German and my trying to flag down another car and convince someone I wasn’t a desperate drug addict, but merely an innocent American with a head cold who needed help. When Nick finally made it back to the car I was ecstatic. I think I even thanked him for being alive. He just laughed, no doubt wondering what kind of freak he was about to traverse Europe with.

A few days (?) later, after having tea with a friend, Abraham, at the college, we boarded a lovely train, with accommodations similar to a passenger airplane from home to begin our 2 day journey to Bucharest. I was frazzled, but excited. Broke, but happy. Terrified, but willing to go. And I can tell you, with great certainty, that I had no idea what was ahead of me. Not a clue.

Posted by Penny Rene at 05:31 PM

RO - Part I

24 · Sep · 2000

Almost five years ago, in the summer of 1995, I boarded a plane in Oklahoma City and flew to Zurich to meet my friend of 4 months, Nick Swanson and his family. The Swansons are Americans who were living in Switzerland while Dwight, Nick’s father taught at Eastern Nazarene Bible College. It was only a short stay there for me because the family was relocating to the Philippines by decision of World Missions.
From there, Nick and I took a series of trains that led through Austria, Hungary and then our final destination, Bucharest, Romania.

There we started a three hour radio programme called “The Edge” on Radio Total 94.2 FM, speaking english and mixes of the 450 contemporary christian music cds we had brought with us. Though we were there to host the radio show, we were under the guise of “humanitarian aid” with the Nazarene church and were considered by that organisation to be NIVS or Nazarenes In Volunteer Service. (No, I’m not Nazarene) But I lived, for a time, with some missionaries in Bucharest and my last month I moved to a small village north of there called Sighisoara.
While I was in Romania I, like many of the missionaries, had different jobs. A summary that might help you understand is : Radio producer/host, orphanage caregiver, street children’s worker and assistant to Professor Dorothy Tarrant from ENC of Boston.

It took me 3 months to get over the shock of my new life. I was in Romania for only five months. The reason I am writing about it now is because after five YEARS, I have found I am STILL profoundly affected by my time there. I think it is time for me to tell you what happened.

Over the past 5 years the most common question that people ask me about Romania is "Why did you go?". Oddly, the answer to that is the same reason I have always had for taking other major steps that many people don't: Because I can. I was living in Nashville, working at the Limited clothing store in a mall. It's that simple. I had moved to Nashville to be part of the Christian music industry, but like many of people who try that, I found a lot of people with good intentions who cannot live up to their promises.

In short, I had been promised a job at a record label, but instead, I was driving almost 2 hours each way to work at a mall. I was physicaly and mentally spent by the time Nick Swanson, a dj friend from OKC, asked me to go with him to start a radio show in Romania.

I remember our phone conversation. He had been telling me about his plans, asking advice about the logistics of being "business minded". I don't know who suggested it first, but I do remember trying to think of a reason why I wouldn't go. There wasn't one. My life was a wreck. I had nothing to lose.

After that conversation, I must've told myself every waking hour for the next few months how crazy it was. People like me do not go to a foreign country for any reason but vacations. I could'nt even locate Romania on a map the day I decided to go there.

You can imagine the responses I got from family and friends. My parents have always tried hard to support whatever I want to do, but they were scared for me; worried maybe. But the common reaction from friends was a mixture of worry and envy.(Mostly worry (: Kind of like: How crazy are you? You've really lost it this time.

I guess, in some ways, they were right. It takes someone who isn't too attached to the reality of their present life to be able to leave it all behind for the unknown. Detached - that was me. Romania - definitly the unknown.

I left Nashville at the end of May, I think. I moved to Springdale Arkansas to stay with my longtime friends/family, Jeff & Kathy Payne and their children Robert, Jamie and Callen. Callen, who was 5 or six at the time, gave up her bed for a month for me. I worked with Kathy, for a local arts and crafts guru. I twisted wire around a stick to make it curly. That wire was used to hang the various decorative things the artist created. Many a country homes are sporting my hanging wire creations!
That month was a wonderful visit with the Paynes, as Jeff had been my youth minister years before and I then got to know he and his family on an adult level. I saved what little money I made for my trip. Nick had generously bought my plane ticket.

After a short visit in Oklahoma City, my parents drove me to the airport. My mom was trying to be as helpful as possible, but my dad had not said much during my visit or the ride to the airport.

You know when you have done something so outrageous that you cannot help but laugh? I had a hard time not getting hysterical....Even as I boarded the plane I was thinking "I have probably lost my mind."

I had never taken an international flight before, so everything was new and a little unnerving. From letting go of my luggage (wondering how it would make it there) to having passport suspiciously examined, I was like a kid on her first day of school. On the last leg of the trip when our safety instructions were explained in German and English, it started to soak in that I was a long way from home.

When I got off the plane in Zurich, Nick was suppossed to be waiting for me. He wasn't... It dawned on me that I didn't know how to even ask where the bathroom was, let alone place a phone call to the Swanson house - wherever that was. I didn't even have much cash. I did the only thing I could do. I placed my suitcases in a clear spot, sat down on them and waited.

penny rene

Posted by Penny Rene at 05:12 PM

The Shut Up Rap

16 · Sep · 2000

Well, here I am. Friday night, 10:38 and already in bed. Alone. So far, I’ve eaten a pot pie, drank a glass of grape juice, watched Erin Brockovitch, faithfully removed my makeup, washed dishes, fed my cats and cleaned up cat vomit. Doesn’t that sound like fun? Crazy Friday night at my swingin' singles pad!! Whoo hoo! Look ma! No man!

You ever fell deep into the thought of what you would say if everybody had to listen but couldn’t be mad at you by what you said? I have. Good lord, it’s the best fantasy I have. In it, I’m blowin' the cover, I’m shooting from the hip. People are staring at me in disbelief. Jaws are down so far I can see cavities. Cavities from all those years of swallowing sugar coated crap! Here ya go kids, have some fluoride!

Where is Dorothy Freaking Parker when I need her? Erin Brockovitch my ass. Talk to Ms. Parker! She’ll rip through the bull like it was a wet Kleenex. Gimmie one good reason why I should be silent, St. Timothy. “I suffer not a woman to teach...” Really? Well, that’s nice of you. Tell ya what. I suffer not a man to speak. How’s that? You shut the hell up. That can be your place in society. Hunt, protect, build me a mansion, but don’t talk. Ya know, I wouldn’t want to burden you too much.

Blink once in a while son, you’re startin’ to scare me.

This is a little rap for all the people who don’t think they need it.

yesterday I filled my day with what was on your mind
i swerved right by the truth because you didn’t have the time
i endured every hour like i enjoyed the pain
i think i should tell you i’m not doing that again

do you remember when you said that Indians are drunks
that Buddhist don’t know god and autistic kids are dumb
or what about that theory that AIDS is not your problem
when was the last time you went out and bought a pack of condoms?

i’m tired of being patient, waiting for you to “grow up”
i’ve got two words baby, are you ready? SHUT UP!
Listen, look and learn SHUT UP!
This might sting & burn. SHUT UP!
You make me tired, so SHUT UP!
You’re just a liar. SHUT UP!
SHUT UP!!

you say you don’t mind gays, that some of them are nice
like who is good or bad is your job to decide
yeah i bet you’ve got “some black friends” that you never hang around
just ‘cause they don’t ask you out or live on your side of town

the right words are said and you’re correct politically
but that don’t mean a damn thing to those who think like me
what if i had pink hair and was pierced from end to end
would you take the time to know me, would we, right now be friends?

well, i’m tired of being patient, waiting for you to “grow up”
i’ve got two words baby, are you ready? SHUT UP!
listen, look and learn SHUT UP!
this might sting & burn. SHUT UP!
you make me tired, so SHUT UP!
you’re just a liar. SHUT UP!
SHUT UP!!

i hear you saying you mean well, that your heart is right
well, what would Jesus do if he if he heard your crap tonight?
you say “nobody is perfect”, no shit, how can we be?
when you’re makin’ up the rules and you change them daily?

it takes work to change a nation it takes thought to find a cure
i know what it’s like to be ugly, i remember being poor
if you continue treating people like they’re not worth your time
you’re hurting me too, and you’re no friend of mine

i’m tired of being patient, waiting for you to “grow up”
i’ve got two words baby, are you ready? SHUT UP!
listen, look and learn SHUT UP!
this might sting & burn. SHUT UP!
you make me tired, so SHUT UP!
you’re just a liar. SHUT UP!
SHUT UP!!

penny rené
© 2000

Posted by Penny Rene at 04:18 PM