Our mission, like any endeavor, started out with a feeling. A feeling that waking up, going to work, doing our jobs, coming home, eating dinner and going to bed wasn't enough of a contribution to the world. Especially when our jobs were commercial development manager and English teacher to executives. I'm the idealist in the couple and consider myself well paired with my Frenchman who is, in every sense of the word, a realist. I always have crazy ideas and hundreds of projects that never get finished and he, on the other hand, is someone who approaches life from a much more logical and pragmatic standpoint. This is why I was surprised that this whole thing was his idea. As unhappy as I am with the current state of... a lot of things actually. The way we spend more money on defense than on education, (this is the case in France and the United States, but for Canada, I don't know. I doubt it as we're ranked eighth in the world on the list of most peaceful countries. Yea Canada!) I also get pissed off when I read about the Pope and his posse of child molesters that are allowed to walk free after having committed such heinous crimes against the trusting and innocent children that they lured into their grasp. I get pissed off when I'm reminded that 1% of the population in the world has 40% of it's wealth according to a UN study that was done in 2000. I've read that the 1% have more than 50% now, but that figure is unsubstantiated. I think about these things, but quickly frustrate myself when the feeling of helplessness settles in. Helpless to change any of it, I content myself with information on these kinds of issues because worse than being incapable to do anything is being ignorant of it. My Frenchman however is not this way. He's a problem solver and so when the idea of going away for six months started to circulate in our modest little house that we rented in a suburb of Paris, he piped up and said "I think we should go away on a volunteer mission." And that was that. He's never been one for angry rants and figures about injustice. He's an action kind of guy. One of the reasons that I love him. He's the "let's not just talk about it, let's do it" ying to my "let me just tell you more about it first" yang. He's always been like this. The wall paper would never have come down in our flat if it weren't for him. The projects that he chooses are few and (compared to me at least) far between, but they will be done quickly, efficiently and well. Mine, hmmm.... well, they'll get started with gusto but finished? That's another story...
So, my husband wanted to make the world a better place and so did I, so we (and by we, I mostly mean him) made an action plan. In order to save the money that we needed to realise our project however, we couldn't be paying 30% of our income every month into our house, so we decided that we needed to move. This, in Paris, if you're a renter is a nightmare of epic proportions. Line ups of twelve couples in front of a flat that you'll be able to view, all together, for 15 minutes before the landlord looks at the paperwork that you have brought with you to prove that you make three or sometimes four times the rent and selects on the spot the person that will live there. If this flat is in a half decent area, there could be twice as many people there that you have to fight with to see the place and then push your dossier into the landlord's face. A gruesome scene, perhaps, but when you consider that the average person in France takes home 1,500 Euros every month roughly and can't live in a flat that exceeds 30% of their income, a couple making 3,000 Euros together obviously are going to be looking for something in the 800-900 Euro range and now put that 800 Euro flat in a nice or at least livable area, well, demand is going to substantially exceed supply.
Neither myself or my husband wanted a 90 minute commute in the morning, so we were looking for Paris and West suburbs. Ideally, the suburb where we were living as it's where I did my theater in the evenings, it was close to work, right on the Seine, green and really quite lovely in general. We gave notice on our house and started waging the tenant war; visiting flats, handing in dossiers for consideration, waiting in line to peek our heads in the bathroom, and it was unfortunately to no avail. Landlords saw our dossiers and our salaries and asked us the obvious question "Why do you want to live here? In a flat that is 30m2 when you can easily afford more?" Well, we couldn't really say "Because we actually want to save a ton of money so that we can leave in nine months to go work abroad somewhere leaving you with once again, an empty flat that needs to be rented." So we came up with semi-believable stories that led us to NOT finding a flat and the date we had to leave our house drew ever nearer...
Then came Serge. The man that Karma delivered to our doorstep. A retired man of about sixty that I would chat with regularly when we happened to be walking our dogs at corresponding times. We lived on the same street which was just along the Seine and would often walk our dogs there. We soon became quite friendly. It was on one such walk that I vented some frustration at trying to find a cheap flat that would help us save for our adventure. As nonchalantly as can be Serge said "Well, I've got an empty flat you know and I think your project is a good one, so I'd rent it for cheap. Meet me in front of my house tomorrow at 9:00." It was like the doctor when he looks at your sore throat, writes a prescription and says "That'll do it. Take care now." I couldn't believe my ears. I rushed home to tell Nicolas, but my potentially incredible news was interrupting his T.V. watching and couch warming, so he yelled at me. Did people like this still exist? Not my Chéri, Serge. What I mean was, did people who just did nice things to help others still exist in our time and age? When I think back to living in my small town in Canada where I grew up, yes, indeed, this sort of thing was not common place, but certainly not unheard of. The only man in town with a pool let all the neighbourhood kids swim in it, a guy who had a pick-up truck knew a friend of a friend that was moving so would go to help out, but this was Paris. People didn't care and you quickly grew accustomed to that. I suppose that's why everyone's suspicion was so great, but we'll get to that.
So, we went and saw the flat and it was... big, livable, equipped with fridge, stove, dishwasher and central heating but when Serge said the flat was empty, he forgot to mention that it had been as such for almost twenty years. It was kitch and filthy, but bigger than what we had before and warmer. The best part though was Serge told us that if we paid the taxes and the charges on the flat, we could live there for free. FREE!!! The total cost of the a fore mentioned expenses didn't even come up to 400 Euros a month. I was waiting for the shoe to drop. I was waiting for a lewd proposition or an agreement to hand over our first born. Five and half months later I'm still waiting. This skeptical attitude however was all I was met with when I told others of my good fortune. There were even those who advised me not to take the flat as he could later charge us with squatting and all other sorts of things. People just couldn't comprehend that this wonderful, smiley old man just wanted to help out and that made me kind of sad. What if we didn't have to assume the worst in people? Think of all the mental energy we could save! This was what got me thinking about why people are nice if they don't believe in God. If Serge had been a priest or a nun, (Sergette?) I think there would have been less questions and dubious commentaries...As far as I know, Serge is not the pious type and is prepping the BBQ on Sunday morning as opposed to heading off to mass, but still in a time where it really seems to be every man for himself, Serge gave us, people that he didn't even know very well, an enormous leg up. A leg that would enable us to go on our mission.
The guy who invented Mormonism just sort of whipped it up. Invented an experience where he spoke to God and Jesus. (Or he could have really spoke to them because the only time I ever smoked weed, I too talked to God and he was a real dick head to me but anyway, I don't think Joseph Smith had been toking back on the green canoe when he claimed to see two thirds of the Holy Trinity.) I think that religion is bullshit and especially Joseph Smith's as it was just an excuse to marry and fornicate with underage girls. If I could do the same however, (invent a religion, not fornicate with underage girls,) I think Serge would be the first saint. Or the prophet, or at least a bishop or something. He preaches the doctrine that I think we all should follow. Be nice for no other reason than we're all there is. You're not racking up points for the afterlife, because when you die, you're dead and maggots eat your body. That's it. So, give unselfishly. Assume the best in people and help where you can. Don't just do something because an ancient book tells you to do it. Don't only think about yourself, paradoxically, it's the most surefire way to be unhappy and don't be a taker. People who take what others give and don't pay it forward in equal or superior amounts are takers and they suck. When someone is good to you, pay it forward. Serge "rented" us his apartment for next to nothing and the next day my piano I was trying to sell, I gave away to some young guy from Paris and I hope he was as happy to get a break as I was. Serge, our angel.
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Sunday, 30 May 2010
Monday, 19 April 2010
Our Call to Serve.
I grew up Mormon. It wasn't until I had left the Mormons however that I discovered that there are different degrees of Mormon. Progressive Mormon, Orthodox Mormon and so on must have seemed hypocrite to my family because they were just Mormon. To them, you either were or you weren't and let me tell you... they were. They still are for that matter. My mother came to visit me in sinful, socialist France (where I live with my very own Frenchman,) and had to take a day off from seeing the sites as it would not be respectful to the Mormon Sabbath day. Paying homage to Gustave Eiffel instead of Yahweh is the kind of thing that could land you in Eternal Darkness. (This is what the Mormons call Hell FYI. Prepare yourselves any homosexuals or drinkers of Coca-Cola because if the Mormons get their way, this is where you'll go. So get ready.)
There are ten children in my family of which I am the oldest. There are seven boys and three girls. The boys that have come of age have all gone on missions and the ones that have not come of age are all being brainwashed to maximize chances that they do. A mission is the equivalent of Mormon military service. As a young man, when you turn 19, you are expected to give two years of your life to the Mormon church with the goal of converting new members. These young men start saving from a young age to pay for the two year experience in which their church usually sends them abroad, or at least cross country to live with a full time companion taking part in the same experience as him. Oh yeah, women can also serve a mission once they've virtually exhausted their opportunity to get married at the ripe old age of twenty one. They serve for a more modest eighteen months however as the child baring years are ticking on whilst they spread God's word. These missionaries leave their home and put their educations on hold to donate two years of their life to try and convince people to join the Mormon faith. They do also participate in humanitarian projects and volunteer efforts while they are there, but with the goal of boosting numbers and getting fresh blood coursing through the LDS corps all the while in their minds. (LDS is short for Latter Day Saints, aka Mormons.) These young people sacrifice two of the best years of their lives to cross the world and live as soldier-clergy hybrids at their own expense, but why? Are they of noble intentions? Are they trying to serve some greater good? Or are their motivations more self-serving than anything?
Every child in the Mormon childrens' education program sings songs like "I Hope They Call Me on a Mission," and "Called to Serve" Women are raised and prepared to only marry and bare children to a Return Missionary. (Affectionately known as RM's amongst adolescent women throughout the Mormon community.) Missionaries who aren't deemed worthy to leave on their missions straight after turning nineteen, or at all, are gossiped about and a shameful burden for a family to bear. Others wonder what could have been the egregious sin that could have tarnished this young person's purity enough to prevent them from being part of God's Army. Could it have been masturbation? Doing activities on Sunday that are considered unacceptable? (FYI outside of going to church, reading one's Book of Mormon or visiting the sick, there are not a lot of things that are tolerated...) Or could it have been that he/she didn't give one tenth of their entire income to the church? Whatever the shameful action that caused a volunteer clergy member to deem them "unworthy," you can be sure that they will feel the consequences of it in chagrin, especially in places where the Mormons are concentrated enough that Mormons only associate with Mormons and these young people's entire entourage is only those of LDS persuasion.
On the other side of the coin however, if you do get approved to serve a mission, go on it and convert a butt load of people, you're in for a treat. You'll be welcomed back with a special church ceremony dedicated just for you to report back your experiences and say the benediction of the religious meeting in the language that you learned whilst sharing the light with those abroad. You'll have your pick of the virgins that have been saving themselves for an RM, and if you had a high conversion rate while you were out in the field, you might even get a fancy position in the church. Priesthood president or Young mens' leader. NICE!
These motivations, among many other things, were some of the reasons that I left the Mormons. That I left religion in fact. Any service that they did to their fellow man was in the name of their god. I did think that it was important to do it, but not in an effort to boost conversion rates or secure one's place in the next life. As soon as I stopped believing in God ironically enough, everything took on so much more meaning, serving my fellow man included. If a Mormon or any other believer gives of his/her time and effort, it's in the name of the commandment of charity and loving one's neighbour. If an atheist does it, it's in the name of goodness. Making the world better and alleviating suffering with no ulterior motive. It is purely selfless. (Unless she is going to blog about it later hoping to elicit comments and followers...) This is why my husband and I decided to become missionaries. Atheist missionaries. We too are going to leave everything at our own expense, our jobs, our home, our lives in fact to go abroad and give of our time and resources. We don't have the aim of converting although if our example leads people to question their belief in God, we'd be thrilled. We want to go because the world is a shitty place, and if even in molecular proportions, we can, we hope, render it less shitty. Also, deluded as I may be, I hope that our effort and my reports on our effort will also hope to abolish or at least curb the silly belief that atheists are people with out morals as morality comes from religion. I'm sure I'll elaborate more on this as this blog carries on, but it boils my blood to hear religious mouths on telly, radio, discussion boards or whatever say that atheists are nasty people because with out God in our lives, we would all lie, cheat, kill, rape and steal. On the contrary! When you only have one life and so does everyone else, it becomes so much more sacred! Respect for life goes up exponentially as you realise that it's the only one that you've got. At least it did for me. Suffering in this life is to be rewarded in the next is a way of living that is total bollocks and we want to do good now to help others now. That's why we're going to Bolivia. An orphanage there has accepted us as volunteers to work with the children, in the garden, in the kitchens and in the schools for the period of six months and we're going! Our flights are booked, the budgeting and the planning is under way and we're off the 19th of October 2010. There is no God and all we have is each other. We should therefore be a lot nicer and this blog is about that. Musings on living life like it's the only one we've got, reports documenting our adventures, posting pictures, videos and links and whatever else I may need to evacuate from my brain as this adventure unfolds. Please comment and subscribe to the feed!
There are ten children in my family of which I am the oldest. There are seven boys and three girls. The boys that have come of age have all gone on missions and the ones that have not come of age are all being brainwashed to maximize chances that they do. A mission is the equivalent of Mormon military service. As a young man, when you turn 19, you are expected to give two years of your life to the Mormon church with the goal of converting new members. These young men start saving from a young age to pay for the two year experience in which their church usually sends them abroad, or at least cross country to live with a full time companion taking part in the same experience as him. Oh yeah, women can also serve a mission once they've virtually exhausted their opportunity to get married at the ripe old age of twenty one. They serve for a more modest eighteen months however as the child baring years are ticking on whilst they spread God's word. These missionaries leave their home and put their educations on hold to donate two years of their life to try and convince people to join the Mormon faith. They do also participate in humanitarian projects and volunteer efforts while they are there, but with the goal of boosting numbers and getting fresh blood coursing through the LDS corps all the while in their minds. (LDS is short for Latter Day Saints, aka Mormons.) These young people sacrifice two of the best years of their lives to cross the world and live as soldier-clergy hybrids at their own expense, but why? Are they of noble intentions? Are they trying to serve some greater good? Or are their motivations more self-serving than anything?
Every child in the Mormon childrens' education program sings songs like "I Hope They Call Me on a Mission," and "Called to Serve" Women are raised and prepared to only marry and bare children to a Return Missionary. (Affectionately known as RM's amongst adolescent women throughout the Mormon community.) Missionaries who aren't deemed worthy to leave on their missions straight after turning nineteen, or at all, are gossiped about and a shameful burden for a family to bear. Others wonder what could have been the egregious sin that could have tarnished this young person's purity enough to prevent them from being part of God's Army. Could it have been masturbation? Doing activities on Sunday that are considered unacceptable? (FYI outside of going to church, reading one's Book of Mormon or visiting the sick, there are not a lot of things that are tolerated...) Or could it have been that he/she didn't give one tenth of their entire income to the church? Whatever the shameful action that caused a volunteer clergy member to deem them "unworthy," you can be sure that they will feel the consequences of it in chagrin, especially in places where the Mormons are concentrated enough that Mormons only associate with Mormons and these young people's entire entourage is only those of LDS persuasion.
On the other side of the coin however, if you do get approved to serve a mission, go on it and convert a butt load of people, you're in for a treat. You'll be welcomed back with a special church ceremony dedicated just for you to report back your experiences and say the benediction of the religious meeting in the language that you learned whilst sharing the light with those abroad. You'll have your pick of the virgins that have been saving themselves for an RM, and if you had a high conversion rate while you were out in the field, you might even get a fancy position in the church. Priesthood president or Young mens' leader. NICE!
These motivations, among many other things, were some of the reasons that I left the Mormons. That I left religion in fact. Any service that they did to their fellow man was in the name of their god. I did think that it was important to do it, but not in an effort to boost conversion rates or secure one's place in the next life. As soon as I stopped believing in God ironically enough, everything took on so much more meaning, serving my fellow man included. If a Mormon or any other believer gives of his/her time and effort, it's in the name of the commandment of charity and loving one's neighbour. If an atheist does it, it's in the name of goodness. Making the world better and alleviating suffering with no ulterior motive. It is purely selfless. (Unless she is going to blog about it later hoping to elicit comments and followers...) This is why my husband and I decided to become missionaries. Atheist missionaries. We too are going to leave everything at our own expense, our jobs, our home, our lives in fact to go abroad and give of our time and resources. We don't have the aim of converting although if our example leads people to question their belief in God, we'd be thrilled. We want to go because the world is a shitty place, and if even in molecular proportions, we can, we hope, render it less shitty. Also, deluded as I may be, I hope that our effort and my reports on our effort will also hope to abolish or at least curb the silly belief that atheists are people with out morals as morality comes from religion. I'm sure I'll elaborate more on this as this blog carries on, but it boils my blood to hear religious mouths on telly, radio, discussion boards or whatever say that atheists are nasty people because with out God in our lives, we would all lie, cheat, kill, rape and steal. On the contrary! When you only have one life and so does everyone else, it becomes so much more sacred! Respect for life goes up exponentially as you realise that it's the only one that you've got. At least it did for me. Suffering in this life is to be rewarded in the next is a way of living that is total bollocks and we want to do good now to help others now. That's why we're going to Bolivia. An orphanage there has accepted us as volunteers to work with the children, in the garden, in the kitchens and in the schools for the period of six months and we're going! Our flights are booked, the budgeting and the planning is under way and we're off the 19th of October 2010. There is no God and all we have is each other. We should therefore be a lot nicer and this blog is about that. Musings on living life like it's the only one we've got, reports documenting our adventures, posting pictures, videos and links and whatever else I may need to evacuate from my brain as this adventure unfolds. Please comment and subscribe to the feed!
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