Wednesday March 9^th

Today half of our Penn State group and the 10 participants from Widener drove down to aptly named Farmstead Florida, southwest of Miami. I realize this is the southernmost I have ever been in my life. The only foreign country I’ve been to is Germany, and the town I was in, Wilhelmshaven is literally twice the latitude of Farmstead.

Food Share is the organization where we volunteered. They are essentially a food bank, but John, the passionate manager made it evidently clear where to draw the line between a food bank, based on individual funding and donations, and his food share, which receives funding from the state of Florida. They described the expansive of their reach across the whole state, and how Food Share will be present immidately after an emergency such as a hurricane.

As we spoke little and seemed half-asleep upon arriving in the morning, a lady at Food Share let us have Cuban coffee. I and others partook, but were startled to find it served in plastic shot cups about half the size of an espresso shot. It was sweeter and creamier than expected, but then had a defining kick like a European espresso, from an Amersterdam coffee house for example. Whatever was in the coffee did its magic on us.

The 20 volunteers and leaders sorted canned and boxed dry food goods into bags of 5 items to be distributed to families. I situated myself near the start of the assembly line, and worked with my neighbors, Dillon from Widerman, and Brandon to organize labor tasks. I ultimately was responsible for putting a can of corn into bags. The bags were still in factory pressed form and must be separated. I, being an engineer, quickly got frustrated with trying to open a bag, set it down, then place a can inside. This proved to be a slow process moreover, and so Brandon and I learned to utilize the design shear slots on the bags. I would hold the bag pile down with the next can of corn in my left hand, and then pinch just the thin sliver of plastic to open the top bag. Next I’d shove the can in the bag and follow through, thus tearing the top bag from the rest of the pile, and using my right arm to ensure the under bags stayed in place. Carlisle, a leader from Wideman would then place his rice in my bags, and then pass them along. My efficient method quickly built me a reputation as a “diesel machine”, needing a while to warm up, but unstoppable and fast once I got going. It was great fun building comradery with these great individuals.

We filled 17 crates of 125 bags, which would be enough to feed 8,500 individuals. 8,500. John was exstatic to tell us this amount is the most they have ever seen a volunteer group produce. Even an ROTC group shouting orders and coordinating production created less sorted bags than what we accomplished in around 4-5 hours.

After the service opportunity, we witness piranha relatives destroy bread thrown in a pond, and sluggish but sure turtles reach the bread and get their fair share. This was a substantial reminder that the Food Share is right on the edge of the Everglades.

Nearby Food Share was a world famous fruit stand called “Robert is In” simply because decades ago, Robert simply had a sign over his humble fruit stand alerting potential buyers that he was “in”. today it is a bustling local produce market, much like we see dotting communities in pennsylvania, complete with a petting zoo and world class milkshakes and smoothies. The main difference between Robert is In and say, Trickling Springs from Chambersburg is the presence of fresh and exotic tropical fruit.

After a shower, most of our group ventured out to Little Havana, and marveled at the architecture before deciding on a restaurant. All along this several mile-long street were rooster art pieces depicting the residents pride as Americans, while remembering their heritage in Cuba. In side the restaurant we chose, “La Castile”, the menu reflected Cuba’s meat- heavy dishes, but I managed to find a pescatarian dish with the support of friends. Sharing food so that we all can try cuisine, a mainstay of our trip thus far continued strong tonight. I believe this open wiliness to share food with others who are not paying for it shows a bit of the humanist personalities and characters of each person who took the time to come on this trip.

Finally we finished with desert at an adjacent ice cream parlor, with ethnic flavors including sriracha in vanilla ice cream. No one was daring enough to try it. Instead several of us tried the best seller- Guava, vanilla, and Nilla wafers.

 

 

Tuesday March 8^th

Today was our second day of service. We departed to Easter Seals, which here in Miami is relatively well funded, and is able to serve those experiencing onset dementia and Alzheimers, as well as a children and family program. The very invigorating and inspiring CEO of the non-profit met with us personally before the day began. This is how it played out. As we stood in the lobby awaiting direction, an assertive woman in heels walked in, confidently said “welcome, I am _______ and we will be meeting in here.” She quickly opened the door, turned to shake each of our hands upon walking into the apparent board room, and swept us up in a wondrous whirlwind of executive and administrative speech. It is clear how her employees and volunteers are so driven. She oozes charisma and tact. If there is a job that needs done, you can be sure she will find the method and motivation to see to it done, and done properly. I like her style. I aspire to be the type A personality she (before coffee even) easily exudes, in my own career.

After a thorough discussion, in which Erin was casually offered a job for her pertinent questions regarding infant and young child care, we moved down the hall to work with elderly clients enjoying a portion of the day away from home. (remember Easter seals attempts to be a “halfway house”- allowing clients to still live at home, family to maintain their own lives, and offer affordable care for minorities and underprivileged individuals: the perfect trifecta.

The gentleman in the back, Karmi (Cameron) was introduced as having great stories to tell, he’s a card, and such by the nurses. I don’t know why, but the nurse chose me to be paired with him. I felt lucky and maybe not worthy of the apparent honor. Karmi and I quicly became good friends, and found a common interest in music (he played French horn, to my trumpet) and aviation: he was an avionics technician and private/ small aircraft commercial pilot. I still have much to prove in the aviation industry.

After 1 pm, we transferred over to Miami University campus to attend a private lecture on the Gate Program, which focuses on young gun offenders.

 

Monday May 7^th

The first day in which we actually had to wake up bright and early, I found myself longing for more slumber. But a call to helping get breakfast ready got me moving very quickly. Breakfast was with Widener University volunteers, and we chatted.

Finally came the long expected service opportunity. We broke into three groups: 2 from Penn State, and Widener as a whole. My group went to Miami Rescue mission, which has a history back to 1922. Today they serve multiple roles- from a halfway home to help those experiencing homelessness back on their feet, to rehabilitating those suffering from drug addiction, and families fleeting domestic violence. To fund part of their activities, they sell donated clothes, books, art, and furniture. Our first task was to polish the wooden furniture in the main warehouse. Improving the luster of several already ornate pieces spoke to me about what else we might see in Miami. Next there were two dinner tables I helped to polish. Each had matching chairs, and I wondered what history, laughter, and stories each table had seen in its past life. What meals were shared on their surface?

After this work was done, the Rescue Staff transitioned us to organize clothing donations and place them on the racks by women’s blouses, pants, mens short sleeve, long sleeve shirts, pants, and children’s clothes. I learned I have no fashion sense. Ok, I already knew that, but it became painfully obvious to others when I had to ask why blouses buttons were on the left, and mens dress shirts on the right.

Others were working with a gentleman sitting in a walker sorting coat hangers by coat, and pant hangers in the warehouse. That gentleman, near 70 I would guess had amazing stories he shared with us of times with his father. They wrestled and threw each other in their pool, and this gentleman commented “yea, I was 20 and he was 53, it wasn’t really fair at all.”

Waking up around 9 was both refreshing and jolting. I deliberately faced my air mattress to the east, so as to absorb the morning light streaming through the narrow stained glass window. I did this for two reasons: beauty, and to ensure I woke up.

We ate breakfast as a group of 20 and discussed our day. For someone who routinely eats breakfast alone or not at all, it was an alive community.

We took a walk in two groups before worship, my group strolling towards Brickell Key, now developed into private condos and beachfront. A stone ledge is where we sat, witnessing the wealthy yachts zoom by, and tall ships under sail slip gracefully through the water, with not so much as a bow wave, and no stern suds and disruption from a propeller.

Worship was exemplary, even by the word of Diane, our resident Presbyterian pastor.

Our students continue to share their reflections through 3rd Way Collective’s Peace Signs podcast!

You can check out all of the recordings from our trip right here.