I get these really delicious locally-grown apples at my farmstand. One day, Sarah D. and I decided to make Apple Pie, which we then shared with the house, even though we could have eaten it all ourselves it was so good.
Sarah D. and I drove out to the countryside one fine day to pick out our very own Haverford House pumpkin for Halloween/Fall Celebrations. We walked from pumpkin to pumpkin, trying to pick the perfect one. I was going for size, while Sarah D was going for shape. We compromised on a medium-sized pumpkin that was almost perfectly round. We named her Sindiswa and she was 16.4 pounds. We were going to carve her into a Jack O’ Lantern but then someone (cough Sarah D or Mary) tried to balance her on the porch railing and she toppled to the sidwalk below. It’s ok though because someone carved one of the pieces of her into a very nice rendition of the Philadelphia skyline, or at least I think that is what it’s supposed to be.
Anyways, here is our photographic journey:
Sarah D and the pumpkin we finally chose!
The pumpkin orchard also had a little petting farm, which I of course made Sarah D. go to.
Luckily for me, the exchange of duck spit was ok, because it’s swine flu and not avian flu that we gotta be worried about this season.
George Washington Duck.
I love ducks!
Last Sunday my organization led a tour to Paradise Hill Farm, a traditional cranberry and blueberry farm in the Pine Barrens in New Jersey. It was absolutely beautiful! And so cool to see the old-fashioned machine that sorted the cranberries. The farmer told us that when she was young, she ate cranberries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I wish I knew that many cranberry recipes! Cranberries are delightfully tart, sometimes overwhelmingly sour, sometimes tinged with sweetness – when you eat them plain – but are always delicious in sauces. Her family has been farming cranberries for over 90 years – they are one of the only independent cranberry farms left that have not been taken over by Ocean Spray (I think).
So, Cranberries don’t grow underwater – even though they are always seen underwater in the Ocean Spray juice commercials. But the bogs – which were dynamyted out almost a hundred years ago (now they laser out bogs for the cranberries to grow in) – are flooded when it is time to pick them.
Check out the pictures!
Above: cranberries growing underwater!
A guy with a threshing machine to pick the cranberries.
See how the cranberries float to the top after he goes through with the machine?
Me by the cranberry bog!
mmmm cranberries!
Then they are packed into crates like this.
Raking the cranberries into the machine.
me catching cranberries as they come out of the machine.
cranberries falling out of the machine into a wooden packing crate.
and FINALLY they are packed into these blue plastic containers … in which they come to our farmstand!
which is MUCH safer than the highway.
I got back from a 5-day Canoeing Expedition with students from Parkway NW this afternoon http://www.outwardboundphiladelphia.org/…), what a trip!
During the first night, there was a moment when I stepped away from the group and just appreciated the stars. One of the students joined me in my star-gazing and we reflected on how beautiful the sky can be, and how easy it is to ignore it. We discussed the difference in pace when one is home versus being on such a nature-intense trip; it’s crazy how much easier it is to feel comfortable and open up with people when you’re forced to slow down and detach yourself from life’s everyday hustle and bustle. From what I heard from the students, they created strong bonds during this trip and this was an experience they will not soon forget. Even the students who seemed most skeptical at the beginning of the trip were planning on signing up for another expedition before ours was over!
I enjoyed getting to know the students in a more informal setting; I was joking around and it felt like I was with my own high school friends at times. One of my favorite memories is when we all had to trudge through muck and drag our boats near the shore because the winds were too strong to canoe. Morale was getting low so I started asking my boatmate what music she liked. We had a lot of overlaps and began busting out with some Destiny’s Child songs. When the boat queue slowed down, we accompanied our singing with dances. Her response to my energy picked up my spirits and it made it a lot easier to stay positive.
We also had once-in-a-lifetime experience on this trip. In the middle of the night on Tuesday, I was in my tent and heard a LOUD crack of thunder that woke me up. My co-worker woke up and mumbled “whaat?” and I, seemingly calm, replied “just thunder, don’t worry about it.” But, a few minutes later, BABAMMM, a louder crack erupted from the sky and my co-worker and I shot out of our sleeping bags. As we looked at each other trying to figure out what to do, she remembered that her rain jacket was outside the tent and ran to get it before the rainfall. As she opened the tent flap, I saw a BRIGHT flash of lightning. As soon as she got back from getting her jacket, the rain began to drench the ground. Before we could consider any future steps, our instructor called out ‘LIGHTNING DRILL’. This was a position of sitting so that any electricity that might enter the body comes in through the butt and out through the legs, avoiding any major body parts, aka the heart. I knew it was a serious situation because our instructor didn’t even leave her tent to announce it, she screamed it out from her own. We sat up for 15 minutes in lightning position until we heard her announce that it was safe to go back to bed. Mother Nature did not disappoint for the rest of the trip either because the next night we heard a howling that sounded like someone getting attacked but was an animal.
This morning, we woke up at 5 AM, packed up, and rowed a few more miles to our van to drive back to Philadelphia. Even though we hit the water when it was cold and the sky was dark, we kept spirits up and some of the students sang as we glided along. To me, it symbolized how even though there were hardships in this 5-day expedition, we learned how to work together and make the best out of situations. It also helped that we were heading to a heated car and a graduation ceremony and family upon arrival back to Philadelphia.
I am amazed that such programs like this Peer Leadership program through Outward Bound exists. Time and time again during my fellowship with Haverford House, I meet people who have dedicated so much time and effort to push young people to strive for excellence. But you never read about them in magazines or see them with their own TV shows…sometimes I wonder if maybe they just live on a different planet. If so, I’d like to move there.
Until next time,
Sarah D
Just so you all know, the Fair Food Farmstand is open in Reading Terminal Market! It was open before at a small stall in the middle of the market, but now we’re in a new big place by the windows! It’s SUCH a different feeling and it’s been so great to work at the new farmstand (which I do once a week). Our grand opening was this past Friday and Marion Nestle (she’s sorta a big cheese in the food world, she wrote a book called “Food Politics”) spoke! Anyways, if you want fresh, yummy, ethical food you should come shop here! Also, the meat is not only humanely-raised but – and this is for all you folks that read the scary article in the TIMES this morning about the E.Coli in the beef – it is COMPLETELY trace-able. Locally raised and slaughtered, small-scale, less potential for contamination I should think.
Read more about us in this article that was in the PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER a few days ago:
http://www.philly.com/inquirer/food/2009…
Here is the middle section of our farmstand – made of recycled materials and stuffed with yummylicious food.
And here is another pic of the middle section of the farmstand.
So this is something that I have been thinking about for a long time – running in Philadelphia. As David Brooks opened one of his editorials in the TIMES a few weeks ago, “you wouldn’t know it to look at me, but I go running” every day of the week. It’s been a habit since … oh I don’t know, for years and years, with minor interruptions for injuries and the like, as regular as brushing my teeth. Growing up I knew my town like the back of my hand, and Amherst too (where we spent our summers). Or, so I thought. But through running I discovered (and occasionally re-discovered) those towns that I thought I knew – little side streets and back roads and trails that either peter out into the brush or burst suddenly onto a familiar road.
When I got to Haverford, I had to reckon with a whole new area. I was timid at first – just the nature trail and some roads directly around campus. Then I tored my ACL and did a bunch of other fun stuff to my knee like that, all of which required surgery. So it was not until sophomore year that I was able to lace up my Asics again.
One would think that, in a year on the Main Line, I would get to know it somewhat, knee surgery or not. But the Haverbubble is a powerful thing, and when I was able to run again I realized that I had no idea what lay around – outside of – campus. I had to find out. Mary, whom I live with, has a name for such endeavors. She calls them “run-ventures,” short for “running adventures.” It’s when you go off your usual path and, even if you get lost or have to stop and figure out where you are, you are still technically out on a run. I did not know this word at the time, but that is essentially what I did. I headed out every day, discovered I had a pretty good sense of direction when I put my mind to it, and often returned from my runs having never really gotten lost, even though I had been in areas of the Main Line that I had never even heard of before. When my sense of direction failed me, I would stop passing cars and ask, or occasionally just run till a road sign seemed familiar. By the end of my sophomore year I had developed so many routes of various mileages, roads, and terrains that they lasted me until graduation without boring me.
It was in this way that I truly became familiar with Haverford and the surrounding area – by running through it. I not only had to re-discover the areas I thought I knew – finding little alleys and trails – but I also had to figure out the lay of the land in suburban Philadelphia. It also helped Haverford feel even more like home – when I came back from a run in an unfamiliar area and saw a familiar road name or house or tree my heart would leap a little and I’d realize “I’m almost home!” and then Haverford itself would chug into view and I would be back.
Now that I am living in West Philadelphia, I think that one of the things I miss most about Haverford are these now-familiar running routes. I miss being able to step out of my door an have multiple runs to choose from – ALL of which are safe, aesthetically-pleasing, and just the right length. I miss the freedom of going on a “run-venture” knowing that wherever I ended up I would be safe and would probably be able to run on asphalt (softer than concrete and easier on my poor injured knee).
Now that I’m in Philly, I am often frustrated that all of the running I have to do on concrete leaves me gym-bound for a few days afterwards; or that my “run-ventures” here often land me in places that have no interesting and few safe ways out of. I hate, hate, HATE the pollution and the car exhaust and waiting every few blocks for the light to change and having to dodge bicyclists and cars; and I hate being blocked by walking pedestrians, and I REALLLLLY HATE the constant clouds of cigarette smoke.
But, I am realizing, running here is helping me get to know what is now “my” city – just as running in Sewickley and Amherst and at Haverford helped me re-discover and discover those areas. I suppose discovering good running routes is a process, and just because it’s taking longer this time, doesn’t mean I won’t get there. I just have to work harder. The trails along the Schulykill (sp?) Banks are lovely, but I have to pound my way along 20 blocks of unforgiving concrete through car exhaust to get there. But this is incentive for me to be more creative with my runs to try and circumnavigate these conditions, and it’s helping me get to know Philadelphia better. Now that this is my city, I am slowly stopping lamenting the loss of Haverford and discovering the area. Which, I suppose, is part of what doing Haverford House is all about.
It isn’t always easy – I still LOATHE the cigarette smoke and the concrete. But today, after I was finally free of all that and loping along West River Drive, I looked behind me and saw the skyline through the trees . . . and thought that this is quite a nice life to be living.
Not a good idea. I got a little too zealous after taking Max’s Bike Philly pledge. Yes, I will not bike on sidewalks and utilize public transportation over cars HOWEVER riding on Gray’s Ferry Bridge was frightening. I had to coerce myself not to stop halfway through as I saw a body of water out of the corner of my eye. I do love whoever decided to have a bike lane on that highway though, gosh bless you. Even though I hope one day that there are raised divisions to keep drivers out of biking lanes. I have a lot of respect for people who bike across the country ON HIGHWAYS (like “Just Cycle”, these ladies I met at BikePhilly who biked across. the. country).
That being said, it has been a good week. A few culinary mishaps in the kitchen but there is teamwork here so all is good (our smoke alarm works. I’ll leave it at that). Work is moving along, I enjoy being in a high school, even though I look like I am a student. I sometimes feel like an undercover agent, sitting quietly and watching the students interact. Today we had our first fire drill, it was weird not having to go to a class and stand in silence to be counted. Ah the freedom!
I’m meeting more and more students each day. Some feel more comfortable with me than others, as is to be expected. As more and more activities come up and I try to find students who might be interested, I’m finding myself leaning towards a group of students who have distinguished themselves as leaders. I’m trying to fight this trend because I remember what it was like to be that high schooler/college student who sometimes felt stretched too thin because of all the activities thrown her/his way. It’s important for me to remember this moving forward.
Today I had a discussion that made me feel like I was in an affinity group back at Haverford. One student was describing someone as an oreo and I pushed the student to unpack what that meant. I asked the student what being white meant, and conversely what not being white meant. I tried to get the student to explain how the description was being used, in a negative or positive way. The student wasn’t sure how to reply and seemed engaged in the question. If someone mentions “good hair” in the future, we will have another dialogue! It’s important for all of us to unpack our phrases and try to understand what we’re saying and the implications that go along with them. The way I see it, it’s all part of a socially just and peaceful world. And bam, isn’t that the theme of the school?
Next week I head out on a weeklong trip to the woods, canoeing time. Phew. All I hope is that my canoe does not flip over and no bears find their way into my tent. I’m a simple lady.
Until next time,
Sarah D
Today, I worked from a law office on 17th and Arch. The office was on the 38th floor, so the elevator was a combination of really cool (because it was so fast) and nausea-inducing (because it was so fast). I am currently doing research on different cities whose farmers markets are able, through a combination of private, state, and government funding, to double the value of SNAP, EBT, WIC, and Senior Vouchers at farmers markets. That is, when someone on Supplemental Nutritional Assistance Program (SNAP), colloquially known as “food stamps,” or Electronic Benefits Transfer (EBT) or Woment, Infants, and Children (WIC) or disadvantaged seniors can not only spend their assistance money at farmer’s markets (really great!) but for every $1, $5, or $10 they spend (depending on the market) they get that doubled. Because low-income neighborhoods typically have so few grocery stores and even fewer places to buy fresh food – especially fruits and vegetables in enough variety – farmers markets are a great way to get into communities and provide healthier food than what would typically be on offer at a corner shop.
Many cities have programs like this – Atlanta, San Diego, Boston, New York, to name just a few – but Philadelphia does not. However, my organization is partnering with a few other interested folks to really try and get this to happen for Philadelphia. There is such a vibrant farmers market community in all different neighborhoods in Philly, and Reading Terminal Market is actually the largest point of redemption for food stamps in Pennsylvania! So, there is demand for something like this to happen for Philadelphia. My role, which I enjoy (thanks Haverford! and thesis!) is to research. How did other cities implement this? What were the challenges they faced? Where did they get funding? We don’t want to reinvent the wheel for this type of program in Philadelphia.
Anyways, the reason I was working from this law office was because my office – Fair Food’s, rather – just moved. The new space is GREAT! Except that the floor is not done, the phone lines are not in, and neither is the internet, and there are no desks. So it is not an environment conducive to research. Nora who is working with us on this Market Bucks project (the double value farmers market vouchers all have different names like Fresh Bucks and Market Bucks and Fresh Fund and Market Dollars and so on) offered me the office of one of her assistants.
It was great being on the 38th floor! It’s a sort of heady, ruler-of-the-capitalist world feeling, like you’re standing on top of corporate America or something. The view – all of South Philly, everyone on their little rooftop pools, it’s fun to look at and wonder about people’s lives. Also – and I texted my housemates about this – they had TWO coffee makers and a coffee bean grinder and two water filters and free diet coke and a giant box of Advil in the kitchen. Yes, I am easily impressed, but in ONE kitchen you can caffeinate, pain-relieve, and drink purified water, all for FREE.
I had gotten to work early so I went running in the middle of the day, on my lunch break. I chose a route I have never done before – I ran the length of the Benjiman Franklin Parkway, under all the flags, and made a point of going around all the fountains, just for fun. I ran past all the museums and the big signs about the Barnes which they are unfortunately moving into Philadelphia from it’s lovely location near City Line Ave. I ran past the Rocky statue and past all the tourists posing in front of the Rocky Statue, and up the steps of the Art Museum, past all the tourists posing on the steps of the Art Museum and/or trying to run up it like Rocky. I ran across the big top plaza and up the final set of stairs and then when I turned around I saw the whole skyline of Philadelphia stretching away across the Ben Franklin Parkway and it was another one of those heady, on-top-of-the-world feelings. It is so interesting how different Philadelphia is in different sections … from my view at the front doors of the PMA, nestled between the elephantine, stately rock-solid columns that rose into the piercingly-white late-summer sky until they met, barely visible, on the mosaic-ed ceiling … to the hipster enclaves of West and South Philly, to the grungy side alleys of Center City murky with car exhaust and blocked by dumpsters … to the ritzy parks filled with lovers and dogs and morose ex-Yuppies nursing their lattes during lunch break … to the less ritzy parks where people without homes try to find a comfortable spot on a bench … to the twinking lights and clatter of the old city bars at midnight, to the grey clammyness of the trolley in early dawn … all of this and more is ensconsced within my view of Philadelphia on a beautiful, cool late-summer’s day. The contradictions and hustle-bustle and diversity of cities always fascinates me and can be a sort of humbling feeling. Especially from the work that myself and my housemates are doing – the glorified, gleaming Philadelphia full of history and planning is not even half of the story. Every city of course has human joys and travails interwoven into its every second, but in Philadelphia I feel that this is true acutely. Perhaps because I do live within it at one of its most diverse (and I do not mean this term just as race, age, sex, etc, although this is part of it, but also I am talking about a diversity of human experiences) areas in our little corner of West Philly.
Anyways, so, from there I ran around the back of the museum and along the Schulykill trail (NO ONE can spell that word so I am not even going to try) past the boathouses (which made me miss rowing!) and down for a ways until I decided that lunch break was half over, so I ran back and did the PMA stairs a few more times, just for the view at the top.
When I was leaving work I saw the CUTEST little Chihuahua in a tutu (and I hate Chihuahuas because they are pathetic excuses for dogs, and don’t even get me STARTED on putting dogs in clothes and handbags) (except sometimes I almost really think it and they are kinda cute ..) She belonged to a homeless lady who immediately offered her to me for $15, because she was moving to Florida (the Chihuahua’s owner, not the Chihuahua). She kept saying “oh look, she likes you!” and “oh, she is worth so much more than $15″ … and I really, REALLY almost bought this damn dog. The woman followed me for a block callng out “look, she likes you, she’s following you!” and it was heart-wrenching because I LOVE dogs, and only $15 for that cute little thing? I wonder if the tutu would be thrown in for free. What stopped me was that Sarah D is currently in a state of re-education about her feelings for animals, and Mary says she’s deathly allergic. But then I thought, well, there is not that much fur on this dog because it’s too little to have a lot of fur, so Mary wouldn’t be allergic to her. And I thought maybe Sarah D would like THIS dog, because who wouldn’t like a dog in a tutu?!?! And she was SO FRIENDLY. And so tiny …
I really, really want a dog.
Here are some pictures that I forgot to put up earlier:
This is Sarah D on her first day of work? Bellisima, no?
Mary and the boys on everyone’s first day of work. Oh, I remember this day! It wasn’t MY first day of work, because my first day started that Tuesday instead of on Monday like everyone elses’ … and I was SO sad and SO disappointed because I was SO excited to start work. I do not have very much patience. Never did.
This is Joe with our homemade wormery!
We made this sushi ourselves! oh yes we did.
Hey hey,
Last week Wednesday marked a day in history for us fellows. It was our first trip back to Haveford College as bona-fide alumnae/i (had to throw in some latin. Actually, upon thinking about it if bona fide is going to modify alumnae/i, it should be bonae/i fideles…hmm I’ll leave it alone). We attended the non-academic registration for the Haverford College Class of 2013.
Sarah M
That’s right, every freshman got their keychain, ID card, and 30-second (more or less, depending on how in a rush they were and how energetic they seemed) description of what Haverford House is, what we plan to do, and a map of Philadelphia. It was a great success, and great to see old friends as well. Even nicer was that we had some animal crackers to feed us on the ride back to West Philadelphia (just kidding).
Customs people doing their thing
I’d like to end with a pita bread shape that we saw at dinner last night (courtesy of Joe’s mom who gave him the recipe for pita bread), via Mary’s plate and Sarah M’s blueberry:
I’ll let people guess what it is, but that blueberry is a peninsula. That’s the only clue I’ll give.
Ciao for now,
Sarah D.
post scriptum (I’m done with the latin for today, really)-for Haverford students who wanted a handout and didn’t get it/misplaced it, we will have more this THURSDAY FROM 8-10 AT THE STUDENT ACTIVITITES FAIR! And we’ll post it afterwards.
Starting at the Bicycle Coalition of Greater Philadelphia a few months ago, I didn’t really know what kind of activism went into ‘bicycle advocacy’ (nor what ‘bike advocacy’ even meant, for that matter). I’ve had experience with more direct political activism, I’ve always been excited by non-violent social change like the Civil Rights movement, and most recently I focused on empowerment through displaying social and political issues in the form of public art…but none of this seemed to be what the Bicycle Coalition was about.
When I interviewed at the Bike Coalition, the executive director told me: ‘the thing about bicycles is that they’re fun, and you can win,” comparing the Coalition to his former work as an anti-war activist. “What we’re trying to do is create a cultural shift towards more bike use”. The Coalition focuses on advocacy and education, working to make bicycling both safer and more accessible. The idea is that by doing these things, more people will be willing to try biking, and will be able to enjoy it and recognize its importance on their own- that is, they will be able make biking part of their culture, because they are being invited rather than yelled at or looked down on.
To use one of my favorite new metaphors, the Bike Coalition is not trying to hit people over the head with their agenda, but rather respectfully reaching out to people wherever they currently stand, and asking them to move only a little bit towards making Philly safer and better for bicycling. And exactly because they are engaging in this more subtle, cultural shift kind of activism, people seem to be willing to stop and listen and be engaged, and maybe even shift their behavior.
So would this strategy work for the anti-war movement, I wonder? While it might not solve every problem, it seems to me that the idea of ‘creating cultural shift through building education and accessibility’ might be helpful for many causes.
*p.s.- Speaking of education, check out the bicycle education blog I’ve been writing a lot for! http://bikePHL.bicyclecoalition.org