Day Five--Mad Season

Mom, Dad and I got up early to go to something called Hip-Hop Worship. It was in a hotel down the street, so we grabbed breakfast and headed down. It was in their grand ballroom, and it was packed. I got a seat (on the floor, and I had to fight even for that), then spotted six or seven people wearing Save Darfur t-shirts. For those of you who don't know, I've been pretty seriously involved in the Genocide Intervention Network, 1-800-GENOCIDE and Save Darfur for about a year. I call my senators and representatives just about every week to ask them to vote for anti-genocide legislation, I donate, I sign petitions, that kind of thing. For my sweet 16, I had a Darfur-themed party and raised money instead of getting presents. So I went over and talked to them.

As it turns out, it was a youth group and their pastor from somewhere in the Midwest, but about 40% of their congregation (including the kids at the conference) are refugees from Darfur. I talked to their pastor a little and shook hands with a girl named Christina, who was from Darfur. She seemed really cool. Their pastor told me her father was shot in front of her at age five. In light of that, dedicating my silly little birthday party to the cause didn't seem as impressive as I'd always thought it was. That realization was definitely a much-needed lesson in humility.

Feeling that very weird feeling you get when something has just happened that can only be the work of God in your life, I went to go back to my seat. Then their pastor came after me and asked me to sit with them--they had saved a seat for a kid who decided to sleep in. (It was 7:30 AM, I don't blame him.) So I got the opportunity to worship with three kids from Darfur. I stepped on Christina's foot during one of the songs and spent a good part of the rest of the service berating myself for my clumsiness. The service was really cool, though, I bought the CD when it was over.

We got the rest of the group and headed over to the convention center. The Interaction Day is what we had been looking forward to for most of the week, and we weren't disappointed. We got into this huge hall--and when I say huge, I mean the size of an aircraft hangar--and it was packed with all these different things you could do. I didn't really see enough of it, because I kind of hunkered down in one place when I found something fun, so there's a ton of stuff that was there that I'm leaving out, but trust me, it was awesome.

So we all went our separate ways with instructions to meet back at the FEMA trailer (the room was so large that they could fit a FEMA trailer in there without batting an eyelash... then again, that's not saying much as FEMA trailers are tiny). I eschewed the climbable attractions and the ziplines in favor of the more subdued activities. There was a cool thing that Habitat for Humanity was doing where kids could help build walls and framework for a house that would be transported and given to a family. I kept going until I found what I was really looking for--arts and crafts. Yes, in the middle of a hall of wonders that the ELCA must have poured tens of thousands into, I spent at least an hour and a half sitting on the floor and making bracelets out of hemp. Whatever, they were really cool-looking and I got to talk to some cool people.

After I had made enough jewelry to bedeck the whole family, I headed down to see a big portion of the space dedicated to a store called The Old Lutheran that was selling all these cute Lutheran t-shirts. (Example: You Might Be A Lutheran If... and 'I Dig Organ Music.') I headed down further to see a place with a bunch of tents sent up. The tents had light lines drawn on them in chalk, creating a grid. We were supposed to paint cool stuff on them, and it'd be sent to Darfur for refugees. I spent a good twenty minutes painting little inspirational messages on the tents, even though I knew full well not many of the recipients would be able to read English very well. I was also a little amused by the number of people who painted crosses on their squares, seeing as something like 95% of the population of Sudan (the country of which Darfur is a province) is Muslim. Imagine if you were in a refugee camp and you got a bunch of tents that had crescents all over them. You'd probably appreciate the gesture, but think it a little misguided all the same. Well, I hope the paint job will brighten the camps they go to all the same.

I walked by a bunch of other cool things (one example--a display of how much water on the face of the earth is salt water, and how much is frozen, and how much is unavailable, and how very little is available for human use in the form of 100 gallons. So there was a huge tub of the salt water, three buckets of the frozen water, another bucket of the unavailable water, and a Dixie cup of the available-for-consumption water. Scary.) Then I checked out the FEMA trailer--about half the size of our RV, I can't imagine how people could live in one of a year--and found Mom and Dad. Apparently, I was a good half hour late. Whoops.

The speakers were Donald Miller (yay!), a lady who helped prostitutes get off the streets (yay, but she talked really slow), and another lady who talked about the Earth and how awesome God's imagination is. She was really cool. I thought from her little bio-thing in the guidebook that I wouldn't like her, but I guess you never know.

The Flying Karmozov Brothers performed--the guys who make Jerry's jacked 'disappear' on Seinfeld!--and so did the fiddle-playing girl from Hurricane on the Bayou. She was amazing. She made me want to play fiddle. (I am going to learn how to play mandolin next year, though. I've got it all worked out. Watch your back, Chris Thile.)

We went to an event called Gathering Idol at the Hilton and hung out for a while, then realized that this was the last night we'd have in the city and all felt a little depressed. But then we had a very meaningful Final 15 devotional and went to bed feeling a lot better. For once, I managed to sleep through the night.