Today I went to volunteer at 211 for disaster relief. The phones were quickly taken, so Luis, my partner-in-volunteerism-crime, and I were set to the glamorous task of data entry, entering call records from the previous week.
It was boring. It was tedious. But it told me the stories of the people who had called over the past week. Their numbers went from 10,000 calls a month to over 30,000 calls a day. Most people wanted to know “information on the fire.” Which I easily indicated into the appropriate box with a click of the mouse.
But sometimes, the forms were more detailed. A volunteer operator named Shelia wrote with a red pen. Her callers tended to be concerned about “fire status” and her “i”s were tops with little circles, even though she was working the 12:00-4:00 a.m. shift. Another, Erika, wrote down addresses in straight, neat penmanship. I knew she couldn’t give these people the answers about their homes. But she wrote them down anyway. “Information on the fire” clicked my mouse again.
Other notes included “the wall of fire behind the homes on my street.” “Where is my dad? – Ramona communities.” “Concerned about inmate family member – where are they being transferred to?” “Is my house okay?” Click.Click.Click.
I know the volunteer operators didn’t have the answers. But they were there to try. To listen. To offer the best they could. A week after the fires began, I can click them into the computer, reducing them to tick marks.
I know most of them have found their homes, and hopefully their fathers and everything else in between. But I also know some of them probably didn’t.
But lately, I feel that I don’t know a lot of things lately. And that’s okay, too. So, I will just keep clicking my mouse. One call recorded at a time. And maybe one day, we’ll have everything transcribed and everything in order.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
San Diego Fires
At risk of creating an utterly bland blog, I decided to post today to give my out-of-town friends an update on the fires of San Diego.
My parents are on stand-by, waiting for a voluntary evacuation notice. Many of my friends are evacuated. All of the schools and universities are also shut down, as well as the majority of the business offices in San Diego. As you probably know from watching the news, the governor declared a state of emergency yesterday. Today, he called in 150,000 members of the National Guard.
If my parents ARE evacuated, they will head to my aunt and uncle's house in San Clemente. If my apartment is evacuated, which is unlikely, but may occur in the next few days, I will go with them, crutches and ALL!
San Diego's preparation and response seems logical, reasonable, and well thought out. It appears that people are receiving clear messages about where to go and what to do, thought surely inconsistencies abound.
It's moments like this, we all prepare for. And I'm so glad we are prepared.
My parents are on stand-by, waiting for a voluntary evacuation notice. Many of my friends are evacuated. All of the schools and universities are also shut down, as well as the majority of the business offices in San Diego. As you probably know from watching the news, the governor declared a state of emergency yesterday. Today, he called in 150,000 members of the National Guard.
If my parents ARE evacuated, they will head to my aunt and uncle's house in San Clemente. If my apartment is evacuated, which is unlikely, but may occur in the next few days, I will go with them, crutches and ALL!
San Diego's preparation and response seems logical, reasonable, and well thought out. It appears that people are receiving clear messages about where to go and what to do, thought surely inconsistencies abound.
It's moments like this, we all prepare for. And I'm so glad we are prepared.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Healing and Handicap
Very rarely does one acknowledge that one has actually surprised oneself. Personally, I feel like the bar is so high, it's probably unattainable. And if I can grasp it for a spilt second, I am only staring up at in the next.
While in the DR, I fractured my foot; since then, there has been no driving or walking. Today I didn't use my crutches for the first time in a month, so I can now justifiably reflect on this time of healing and handicap.
In my dependency, I have surprised myself with my dedication and discipline to continuing live a full and engaging life. I have been to Las Vegas (for grandma), and Los Angeles (spend a few days with Doreen and Isabel Allende). I have gone to the theatre and the SD Women's Film Festival. I have been to appointments, the grocery store, and worked from wi-fi friendly coffee shops. I have hosted dinner parties, BBQs and refused to cancel outreach events.
All in all, my bad-assness for getting around town is pretty damn remarkable.
What has surprised me even more, however, is the power of community, and the dedication of my family, friends, co-workers and society for providing the means for my involvement. Without JD and Lauren, I would not get to work everyday. Sans Megan and my mom, I would not have food in my fridge. Without Audrey, Christina, Luis, and Brandon, I would have a very limited social life. Without the legislation and coding considering handicap persons, I would have very little access to public spaces (thumbs up to Stater Bros for the electric wheelchair, and thumbs down to the DMV for not processing my placard when I needed it most).
...but this isn't suppose to be a list of shout-outs. It's actually suppose to contextualize the great spirit and magic of a community that takes care of one another in times of need. The generosity of others has left me humbled and grateful, and confirmed that handicap access still has far to go (like the heavy doors at work or the stairs to Audrey's apartment).
In a few short weeks, my injury will be a memory, many people may never be blessed with the walking abilities most of us enjoy and for them, we should all be advocates. Because, who knows when the next time you may stepping off a curb to get into a car (like me), or worse.
Overall, this month has given me time to ground myself and reflect after a vacation of spending more time alone and with my literature than with my boyfriend. And I feel great - looking forward to an amazing fall with my amazing community and sporting my not-so-stylish-but-quite-amazing black, cast-like boot. Namaste.
While in the DR, I fractured my foot; since then, there has been no driving or walking. Today I didn't use my crutches for the first time in a month, so I can now justifiably reflect on this time of healing and handicap.
In my dependency, I have surprised myself with my dedication and discipline to continuing live a full and engaging life. I have been to Las Vegas (for grandma), and Los Angeles (spend a few days with Doreen and Isabel Allende). I have gone to the theatre and the SD Women's Film Festival. I have been to appointments, the grocery store, and worked from wi-fi friendly coffee shops. I have hosted dinner parties, BBQs and refused to cancel outreach events.
All in all, my bad-assness for getting around town is pretty damn remarkable.
What has surprised me even more, however, is the power of community, and the dedication of my family, friends, co-workers and society for providing the means for my involvement. Without JD and Lauren, I would not get to work everyday. Sans Megan and my mom, I would not have food in my fridge. Without Audrey, Christina, Luis, and Brandon, I would have a very limited social life. Without the legislation and coding considering handicap persons, I would have very little access to public spaces (thumbs up to Stater Bros for the electric wheelchair, and thumbs down to the DMV for not processing my placard when I needed it most).
...but this isn't suppose to be a list of shout-outs. It's actually suppose to contextualize the great spirit and magic of a community that takes care of one another in times of need. The generosity of others has left me humbled and grateful, and confirmed that handicap access still has far to go (like the heavy doors at work or the stairs to Audrey's apartment).
In a few short weeks, my injury will be a memory, many people may never be blessed with the walking abilities most of us enjoy and for them, we should all be advocates. Because, who knows when the next time you may stepping off a curb to get into a car (like me), or worse.
Overall, this month has given me time to ground myself and reflect after a vacation of spending more time alone and with my literature than with my boyfriend. And I feel great - looking forward to an amazing fall with my amazing community and sporting my not-so-stylish-but-quite-amazing black, cast-like boot. Namaste.
Monday, September 3, 2007
La Negra Rosa or Bust!
I am welcomed to Bahia Principe-landia - my psedio-cruiseship world, where everything is included by the magical, annoying braclet my wrist. The mediocre food my guide book warned me about. The cheap Mamajuana (rum drink of choice) that tastes like rubbing alcohol by the pool. It's a world like communist theory, but with Pedro's director-status, we are a step above, which actually makes the resort more like actual communism. Or how I imagine communism to be.
But the resort culture is very isolated. Which makes me feel like I am Havana Nights. But instead of finding my Intellect-Working-as-Cabana-Boy Diego Luna, I realize I am already dating Johnny (aka Pedro Jose), the one with loads of promise who the girl's parents like. I can't shake the desire to go to La Rosa Negra (the dance club which was locals-only) and bust out of the resort life.
I'm basically stuck on the resort, with three pools, and lovely beach full of families and groups of older Spaniards, and quite a few restaurants, so life is very easy, though not too interesting. I'm beginning to call it The Compound.
About every three hours I occiolate between loving the adventure and excitment of a new place to complete apathy of a country full of corruption and chaos.
But the resort culture is very isolated. Which makes me feel like I am Havana Nights. But instead of finding my Intellect-Working-as-Cabana-Boy Diego Luna, I realize I am already dating Johnny (aka Pedro Jose), the one with loads of promise who the girl's parents like. I can't shake the desire to go to La Rosa Negra (the dance club which was locals-only) and bust out of the resort life.
I'm basically stuck on the resort, with three pools, and lovely beach full of families and groups of older Spaniards, and quite a few restaurants, so life is very easy, though not too interesting. I'm beginning to call it The Compound.
About every three hours I occiolate between loving the adventure and excitment of a new place to complete apathy of a country full of corruption and chaos.
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