Sweet

 

Katherine is a town in central Australia, where the dry season is hot and the wet season is hot and wet. The man at the heart of the "Katherine Outback Experience" trains problem dogs and horses so they can become useful and therefore more likely to survive. During the dry season he does this in a training ring on his property and in the wet season the show is taken on tour. Caitlin had seen the show in Katherine and recommended it so a couple of weeks back I went, with my girls, to the performance at a pony club on the semi-rural fringe of Sydney.

When the dogs had finished their routine, there was a call for a volunteer from the crowd to look after this very nervy pup, Winnie. Briony "the girl in the funky jacket" was chosen and Winnie stayed with us for the rest of the night.

This young boy was very keen to sit with her and spent quite a lot of time trying to remove a nasty thorn from her ear.

I have a better photo where he is sitting up more and his face is more visible but somehow it feels wrong to post an identifying picture of somebody elses child.

It was a lovely night in the outdoors with animals, country music and a very family oriented show.

 

Teddy bears and tutus

 A couple of weeks ago, I was asked to attend a repatriation centre as a volunteer chaplain. I was surprised for a moment because the need for repatriation centres never crossed my mind. 
The majority of Australian citizens coming in from Lebanon haven't lived in Australia for years and need vast amounts of support to get settled. It's obvious when I think about it.

The centre was in an hotel near the airport and the people were being accommodated at the hotel. They had arrived during the week and had appointments to get connected to services such as social security, education department, Service NSW (for documents) and public housing.

I wasn't briefed at all so I had to ask where the centre was and was vaguely pointed to a restaurant area. I wondered if all the new arrivals were having breakfast together but nothing looked right so I wandered until I saw somebody from a government  department and they gave me better directions.

After finding the correct room, I decided to sit down and observe while I waited for the opening briefing. The centre manager cut the briefing short in the belief that everyone was familiar with the centre and services.

I spoke to the Red Cross volunteers (who meet and greet) in an effort to get some kind of footing. I had met the lady before and it was good to say hello to a familiar face, the male volunteer was new and lost so not a lot of help.

A younger, Arabic speaking chaplain arrived. She was vivacious and warm and had been on duty all week so she knew the people and started to check in with them. I was relieved to have somebody so competent on the job and started looking for things I could do to make a difference.

I reminded the Red Cross people that there were heaps of children around who might like a Trauma Teddy and gave out some teddies myself, making an effort to find the size and colour requested.

There was a large table with colouring in sheets and textas for the children so I sat there and started making my own art, offering paper and pens when kids showed an interest. A couple of little girls started to suggest what colours I should use and together we finished my page of doodles. One of the girls took the page and sticky taped it to the wall where there was a single completed colouring sheet already hanging. 

I got the idea to sort through the art works strewn abandoned on the table and found a few that had been completed carefully. I taped them up, creating a gallery of sorts. 

I don't know where the artists were or if they would ever have the chance to see their work on the wall but maybe it was enough to inspire the next budding artist.

Parents were ushered to another room to hear some kind of presentation and children were left in the care of centre staff to have pizza and wait. I'm not sure that was a good idea, it was intended to allow the adults to take in valuable information but the separation from their adults was distressing to some littles.

One of the government employees took out some teddies and used them to play catch. It was something I would never have thought of but made so much sense, giving the children a chance to move their bodies in a way that was therapeutic but didn't create chaos. The same man found a bulldog clip and used it to secure a too-big pink tutu on a little girl.

There are so many times it's impossible to know how to help but love finds a way and it warms my heart to see it.

Awkward

 It must have been about ten years ago now that a fairly brusque woman bowled up to me after church, wanting to know the whereabouts of the ten tea towels she had bought for the church kitchen.

I knew I had taken two or three home to wash and as I tend to do, had forgotten to bring them back. I admitted to this failure and didn't think any more about it but a bystander waited for the woman to leave and said "wow, that was awkward"

It was the first time I remember anyone using "awkward" for a situation that was mildly uncomfortable but now it seems to be the word of choice for any incident or conversation that falters, is overly intense or one party is socially inept in any way.

Thinking about all of this raises some questions:

Have we become less tolerant of a bumpy conversation?

If so, is it all of us or just younger people? (maybe under 35?)

Or were we always having awkward conversations but using other words to name them?

Or did I spend most of my life being the awkward one so people said it behind my back?

Once upon a time I probably would only have used the word awkward for something personal and possibly embarassing: spinach in teeth, something sexual, body odour, those kinds of things.

How do you use the word awkward and has it changed over time?