Wow. Been a long time, huh!?

Sorry I have been gone for so long.
Chemo, surgeries, and transfusions... I just realized i have ignored my blog for a LONG TIME!
(Not that anybody read it...)

Back in school. Looking forward to a mini stem-cell transplant on march 6th. And watching the housing market for the perfect house to go up for sale to buy in the suburbs.

I'll try to update more often. Right now I just have a whole lot of homework to get to.
Ciao!

Vortex

Without going into great detail, I will just appologize for the delay in posts. I have undergone chemo for the past week and before that was gone to North Dakota...

Anyways, as many of you know, besides being a mother, wife, student, volunteer, coordinator, and mentor - I am a writer. And my best friend, Slavica along with my husband have encouraged me to expand my usual essay to include fiction. Here is the first chapter (unedited...) for a glimpse into a world i have yet to uncover in my imagination. I just type as it comes to me.

VORTEX by Kelly LaFramboise
At first, the glare of the scorching sun piercing its way through the windshield blinded me. I was driving on a busy highway. The painful light forced me to close my eyes. I knew for sure that it was a pretty dangerous thing to do. How the hell was I supposed to drive 70 mph down a curving expressway with my eyes closed?
Tom Petty’s Free Falling was blaring on the radio. I put my left hand up to block the glare, hoping to see the road again. I kept shouting, “Where the hell are my sunglasses?” and “Stupid sun, just go down already!” Between my left hand blocking the sun, and my right hand feeling around the passenger seat for my glasses, I was sure I would crash the car.
Traffic wasn’t bad. It was unusual for 5:00pm. I thought more people would be driving home from work at that time. Maybe they knew something I didn’t. Maybe they saw how annoyingly bright the sun was and decided to wait for dark to drive. Whatever the reason, I was glad to have the road mostly to myself. If I swerved, I wouldn’t risk causing an accident.
By now my boss, Shelia would be calling my house looking for me. My shift started at 4 o’clock. Video Vortex was always busiest on Friday evenings. The place would be buzzing with the monotonous humming of the drones stopping to get a mind-numbing Hollywood remake of Dracula, or some other useless movie to watch after a grueling week at the office. Sheila would have – no doubt – been red in the face and cursing me for not showing up.
I had made up my mind. I wasn’t going back. I wasn’t going to stay in the Podunk, redneck town one more day. I was getting the hell out while I had a full tank of gas, $500.00 in my bank account, a suitcase in the trunk, and a 64oz Mountain Dew from the gas station in the cup holder.
If I didn’t stop, I would reach Chicago by 10:00pm; the city would be all lit up and rushing with nightlife. I had never even been there before, but I was certain that it was more animated at that time of night than Belleville, Michigan was at anytime. I knew from an episode of 60 minutes that Chicago had more residents than the entire state of Michigan. Zander had moved to Chicago a few months earlier. After a painful breakup, we had vowed to never speak again. But that morning he called me.
The sound of his voice on the phone sent chills down my spine. It was a voice I had longed to hear for weeks, but had promised myself never to seek. It was familiar and personal. I wanted him to reach though the phone and hold me. I couldn’t speak. My hands were shaking and my heart felt as though it was stuck in my throat. The room was spinning. The one person in the world that could make me happy had broken my heart months ago. Why was I letting myself listen to him tell me how sorry he was? I couldn’t hang up. He sounded so honest and guilty.
I never spoke. I just listened. His last words were,
“I wish you were here, Anna. I wish you could be with me again.”
After about an hour and a half of wavering between crying; talking to myself; and racking my brain for answers, I was pretty sure I had made up my mind. I didn’t have a reason not to go. I couldn’t think of a single reason I shouldn’t believe he was not sorry or want me back. From the time I had hung up the phone, I already knew I would be packing my bags. I had no plan as to what I would do once I arrived in the city. The only clue I had, was the number on my caller-ID that belonged to “Henry Baths.”
Before tossing my laptop in a tote bag, I did a quick Internet search on the name and phone number.
Henry Baths – (773) 655-9143. First-rate ceramic tile work for all budgets!
Call for same-day estimates! No bath too big, or too small! We tile them all!
Showroom located at 2100 W. Peterson Ave. Chicago, Il 60645.
Nothing, or no one could stop me at that point. Zander still owned my heart. He still held the key to unlock my free spirit. He was my ticket out of that dead, small town.
As desperate as I was to drive faster than the speed limit, my obsessive-compulsive disorder wouldn’t allow me to break any driving laws. It was an annoying personality trait to have – especially in times like this. No matter how urgent the situation, my foot could not accelerate faster than the speed limit. My left-hand-index finger, would (out of necessity), always turn the turn signal on. Without thinking, I always fastened my seatbelt. My driving record was as clean as soap.
My thoughts, on the other hand, were speeding through my mind like a Formula-One racecar in its final laps. What if Zander wasn’t an employee at “Henry Baths?” What if no one there had ever seen or heard of him before? I would be alone in a foreign city with nowhere to turn. Every last ounce of hope in my body was placing bets on Zander being there. He wouldn’t have called me if he didn’t know better. He knew me inside and out. Of course he knew I would come. He knew I couldn’t resist the temptation. He was like a drug, and I was an addict.
Because I was a glutton for punishment, I decided to call my voicemail to listen to Sheila’s fateful words of disappointment.
“Hi Anna. It’s Sheila. Where the hell are you? It is 4:15 and you are nowhere to be found! Get in here! I can’t work a Friday night by myself!”
BEEP
“Anna! Oh my God! Where are you? You better be dead in the morgue or half-dead in the hospital! I am so serious!”

BEEP
“Anna Katherine Edwards get in here right now! I am swamped! You knew ‘Light Jumpers’ was coming out this weekend! This place is crawling with creepy sci-fi freaks, all demanding a copy of it! Why did you choose today of all days to vanish?

BEEP
“Video Vortex does not look favorably on employees who abandon their coworkers on Friday evenings.”
I hung-up before I could listen to anymore. Sheila was probably going to call another ten times before Video Vortex closed. And Zander wasn’t going to call again.
He wasn’t the type to keep calling; he would rather sit and wait for me to show up.
“Be the tenth caller and win two tickets to the biggest, meanest, loudest show in the universe! Monster Mania 2007 – Bone Crusher, Big Foot, Grave Digger, and more! Ten great monster trucks under one roof! Be there or be bored…” the radio seemed to have more commercials than music. But traffic had started to pick up, so I decided against fiddling with the tuner.
To keep myself awake, I tried making phrases out of people’s license plate letters. The best I could come up with was “Plays Video Games 24/7 (PVG 247).” I read every bumper sticker I could see. The funniest one said, “Honk If You Love Aardvarks!” I counted how many red cars I passed between Jackson and Battle Creek. There were 24. Every now and then, a song would play that I could sing along to. But for the most part, my thoughts dwelled on Zander.
What was he doing? Where was he living? Did he still have black hair, or had he changed it to blonde after our break up? He had beautiful, silky black hair. It was cut short on the sides and back, but on top it was long, purposely messy, and fell over his eyes whenever he moved his head. I wondered if he still wore his black-rimmed glasses when he read, or if he ever got contacts. He had thought about it, but never made the commitment.
The time seemed to fly by. I was surprised how quickly I arrived. Chicago was bigger than I ever imagined. The skyline was lit up like a Christmas tree. Taxis were swarming like bees around a hive. Cars were honking for no reason other than to just hear the sound of their own horns. Traffic cops blew whistles even though it was 10:00 at night. The city was beaming with energy. It was like a magnet drawing me in further and further.
It didn’t last long. Before I could soak in all the sights and sounds of Chicago, I was already past the skyscrapers and museums. The city turned from twinkling bright, to dark and creepy. I had to find Henry Baths. I continued to follow the print out of the map I found online.
Henry Baths sat between a sub-sandwich shop and a dollar store. It was dark and empty inside. I wasn’t expecting it to be open. I went into the sub shop to ask for some advice.
“Can you tell me where I can get a hotel room for the night, please?” I asked the clerk. She was annoyed that I wasn’t ordering a sandwich. She rolled her eyes, popped a bubble with her gum, forcibly removed her plastic gloves, and took a deep breath.
“Go left out of here.” She pointed her unusually long index finger at the window facing the parking lot. “Then go about a mile. Heart O’ Chicago Motel is on the right. But you might want to eat first, The only restaurant over there is a White Castle.”
“Okay. Give me a small tuna with lettuce and onion. Thanks for the help” I replied. I wasn’t hungry, but the $2.99 sandwich was worth getting directions to the closest motel.
Heart O’ Chicago was nothing to write home about. I couldn’t have missed it on the road. It had an enormous red and pink neon sign shaped like a heart. It was one of those sleazy motels that people joke about and say, “They rent rooms by the hour.” The man behind the desk asked twice if I was alone. He asked if I would be having any gentleman visitors. Then he threw two dingy white towels at me, and informed me that the ice and vending machines were out of order. After charging my credit card $69.00, he handed me the key to room 111. It was the first room past the office.
Room 111 smelled like old cigarettes and bleach. The bedspread was rust colored and had a huge stain right in the middle. There was a small TV, but I never turned it on. I hung the towels up in the bathroom and flung my suitcase on the little table in the corner by the door. I didn’t even change into my pajamas. I kicked off my shoes, crawled into the uncomfortable bed, and hoped that nothing, or nobody would bother me. I was exhausted. My brain couldn’t process anything more, and my heart couldn’t take any more anxiety over the whole situation.
I must have slept like a rock. I woke up and glanced at the alarm clock to figure out that it was already 9:20am. I was pissed at myself for not waking up sooner. If I didn’t check out of that smelly motel room and get to Henry Baths soon, I would miss my chance of catching Zander. I yanked my hairbrush out of my purse and tried to make the stringy mess look half-way descent. I rubbed a few wrinkles out of my clothes and decided not to even change. I left the room key on the dresser, and escaped to my car.
Jingle Jingle. The bells on the door of Henry Baths alarmed the sales person of my arrival into the showroom.
“Good Morning! Welcome to Henry Baths! What can I help you with today?” the 100 pounds over-weight, middle-aged, big nosed, bald headed man asked.
“I’m here to see Zander Davis” I replied.
“Zander? Why? Did he do something wrong?” He asked, looking rather confused.
“No. Um. He called me yesterday. I just wanted to stop in and say hi.” I didn’t want the man to know I was Zanders ex-girlfriend, coming to look for answers to our difficult and often emotional relationship.
“Oh. Good. I was going to say… He better not have messed up on an installation! Whew! Well. Let me see if he is in the back. He might have already left for his job site. Wait Here.” He waddled like a penguin to the back room. I don’t think he ever saw a treadmill, or a salad a day in his life. I glanced over at the desk he had been sitting at and saw a half-empty box of glazed doughnuts and a super-sized coffee mug filled with more cream than coffee.
My heart was fluttering. My palms were sweaty. I started to bite my bottom lip. That’s what I do when I am nervous. One time I even drew blood. But that was when I was in a play in high school and had the worst case of stage fright ever. The room was spinning. Why did I make that decision? Why was I standing there waiting for the guy that broke my heart into a million pieces?
I turned around and headed for the door. I changed my mind. I wasn’t ready to face Zander. Not yet. Not wearing the same clothes I had worn for the past 24 hours. Not without fixing my hair and putting on new make-up. What was I thinking?
Just as my hand reached for the door handle I felt something grab my wrist. I knew instantly who it was. I didn’t even have to spin around to see. I knew that hand. I remembered all the times it had touched my body. It was like a piece of my heart had returned to its rightful place in my chest. But as hard as I tried to keep going out the door, my feet just wouldn’t move. The spinning of the room, the pounding of my heart, the utter hopelessness I felt in my heart – they all washed over me like a tsunami wave.
“Anna.” Zander called my name like I imagine an angel would sound saying the same word. “Anna.” He repeated.
“Zander, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. Not now. I’m sorry.” I tried to force myself from his grasp. I didn’t want to look up at him. I didn’t want to make eye contact. I stepped back to release from his grip, but he stepped with me.
“Anna. You are here. I am so glad.”
“No. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry. I have to go.” My voice was shaky and sounded like a creaking door.
“Stan! There’s an emergency. I have to go. Tell Adam I will be back later to help with the Anderson installation. Sorry man, but I have to go right now!” Zander yelled to the doughnut eater back at his desk. Stan just waved his hand, not wanting to talk with his mouth full. Zander grabbed my waist and pushed me outside. He led me around the side of the building where there were no windows, or cars.
“Anna.” He said my name again.
I couldn’t reply. He pressed his lips against mine. His hands held my head just behind my ears. It was the kiss I had been missing for months; the kiss I thought I would never feel again.

Another Adventure!

I am going to the Spirit Lake Dakota reservation July 24 - Aug 1st to chaperone a group of high school students on their work-trip. The Dakota are a tribe of the greater nation - The Great Sioux Nation. Lakota, Nakota, and Dakota make up the GSN. Another opportunity for me to learn and increase my Plains Indian experiences! Yay!

The South Dakota/Pine Ridge Experience

The trip was amazing to say the least. I am so glad I was able to lead our small little Loyola group to the Rez to make what little difference we could. We met some really great people and made a really good connection with the ABI group from Northern Kentucky University.

Hiking in the Badlands was great. I have never been hiking before and was so happy that I didn't quit, or give up half way to the destination. It was beautiful. We went to this place called "The Sanctuary" which was basically a valley surrounded by towering rocks and gorges. We sat in silence for 15 minutes and a lot of stuff just "hit me" that I didn't realize i had bottled up inside. It was kind of freeing. (At the same time it was 96 degrees and what I thought was an epiphany could actually have been heat exhaustion...)

We went to Wounded Knee cemetery. It was really shabby and uncared for. There was garbage everywhere. It hadn't been mowed in a long time. And the steps leading to the mass grave were broken and not very sturdy. If the story of the massacre didn't make one cry, the condition of the cemetery was enough to bring a tear. It made me so angy that Gettysburg, or other national battlefields are guarded by US Marines, cared for by a crew of landscapers, and funded by tax dollars, but this mass grave that represents the Lakota history and the sadness of the massacre is just left to fade away.


The trailers we were working on were pieces of shit. They would be condemmed by our standards. But the government ships them to the reservations and sells them to Indians for $5,000. I wouldn't pay $500 for one. Plus they don't even come with a furnace, some don't have windows, none have skirting, or appliances. So the organization we were working with called Re-Member works to help families who have just received a "new" trailer fix it to living condition. We put windows in and put insulation and skirting around the bottom. We tar the roofs to help insulate them. And we install stove pipes to ensure proper venthilation for the wood burning stoves they use for heat in the winter. We also build outhouses (and dig the holes) and build bunk beds for the families where kids sleep on the floor. We heard of one house where the family had a piece of ply wood over the bath tub. 4 toddler girls slept on the ply wood at night. That is so sad.


The first site we went to was the Wounded Head family. They had just suffered a bad fire and lost 2 family members and one trailer. Not even bones or teeth remained the fire was so bad. Tangela, the young woman we talked to, has cerebal palsy. She told us so many stories of the double whamy she gets by being both handicapped as well as Indian. They were extremely poor. No running water. No electricity. No phones. No car. 12 people living in one trailer. I played with 2 little girls named Lucy and Toby. They were covered in dirt, peanut butter, and honey. And all they wanted was to be held, hugged, kissed, and have their hair braided. When I left I was covered in peanut butter. I will never wash that shirt. It is a constant reminder of what those girls did for my life.

We also planted a HUGE garden. It was a complete waste of time. Nothing grows there. I was really mad that we weren't building more outhouses or beds. But I couldn't complain; the organization has its reasons I'm sure. I just think our time would have been better served actually helping a family obtain proper living standards.

We toured Red Cloud School, the Jesuit high school on the Rez. It was great, but really white. The education is top-notch. But they can only allow 400 students. There are atleast 15,000 kids on the reservation (according to one source). Darryl Red Cloud, great-grandson to Chief Red Cloud sang us a song at his great grandfather's grave and told us about his days at the school. He couldn't say enough good things about the school. He said they have a waitlist atleast 4,000 kids long. EVERY kid wants to go to the Jesuit school because it is really high-class and they have a better chance of leaving the Rez if they graduate from there. Darryl wasn't an employee of the school. He just really wanted to get the message out that the Rez needs more Red Cloud Schools. He was our bus driver for the whole trip. We got to know him and his family history and stories pretty well.

We had 2 days off between sessions. We went to Custer State Park to see the buffalo herds. That was so nice. WOW was it beautiful. The buffalo were right in the road at one point. We also saw burros, mountain goats, a cyote, and tons of prairie dogs.
We went to Wind Cave National Park. The cave is the place of the Lakota origin story. Kind of like their Garden of Eden. But the tour guide hardly mentioned a word about the Lakota. The book store didn't have any books about the origin story either. It really hit home that the Lakota really are a forgotten people.

We also went to Ft. Robinson. It is the place of the Cheyenne Breakout and where Crazy Horse was killed. But again, little mention of the Indians at the place. it was a monument to the US Soldiers. That place made my blood boil! The museum displays portrayed Indians as evil savages. They often referred to them as a "problem" or as "unmanagable." No wonder SoDak is so racist - the school kids on field trips there are fed nothing but lies and racist ideology.

The racism in the border towns was heart breaking. White Clay, which lies just steps off the Rez, sells millions of dollars worth of beer every year. They exploit the Indians and make huge profits off the Lakota. We wanted to bomb the place. It was just a shabby hole-in-the-wall town with MAYBE 6 buildings. The Lakota who lined up outside the liquor stores were so sad to see. They looked so hopeless and drained of all life. I wanted to reach out the van window and tell them someone cares about them.

We were invited to the home of Evans and Jolene Runningshield. (Just the 5 of us Loyolans.) That was the best night of our whole stay. They invited us to a sweat lodge. But we had to decline because we weren't really prepared. I REALLLLLY wanted to go but I knew Dr. Amick would be disappointed if we smoked opium on a school field trip!!! But anyways, the time we spent with the family was priceless. They had 2 little girls with more energy than any child I have ever met. (Tina and Jade) The family gifted us sage, cedar, and orange Hawaiian Punch! We will never forget them. In fact we have sort of adopted them! We are "pen pals" with the girls now.

We went to Mt. Rushmore to take pictures of us flipping it off, and take video of us yelling obscenities at it. We also went to the Crazy Horse monument. That place was kind of creepy. The museum is more of a monument to the sculptor and his wife. Nothing at all about Crazy Horse. And we saw two white tourists that had us cracking up! They would point to the employees and say out loud, "Is that a real Indian?" Or in the gift store they kept pointing to jewelry and saying, "Ooooh, this one really looks Indian. I want it!" They were carrying their two little terrier dogs with them in the museum. I had to shake my head in disbelief.

There is so much more I could tell you. What do you want to hear? I have so much bottled up inside me. No one really understands why it impacted me so much. I didn't want to leave. If Jamie and the kids could have just picked up and moved out there, I wouldn't have come home. Ever. I woke up every morning and felt more alive than ever before. I didn't want to go to sleep at night for fear that I would be one day closer to leaving. It sounds really cheesey, but I really did feel like I belonged there.

Most of us bonded and became family to eachother right away. We went for hikes and sat in a tipi for hours talking and just sitting in silence thinking of solutions. We have a lot to discuss. I have another year at Loyola. I am going to spend the year in deep thought.

So - - - just ask questions, or tell me what you think. I would love to have someone to talk to about all of this.


Thanks for listening to me. Until later,
Kelly

Pine Ridge Pictures! (Blog will follow when I have a chance to unload my thoughts...)

The top pic is Slavica, Alicia, and me at Red Shirt Table in the Badlands. The next is a monument in memory of Chief Crazy Horse.

Mt. Rushmore is evil. The Black Hills are sacred to the Lakota. It was absolutely rude and selfish for Americans to dynamite the sacred land into a monument of a bunch of white people who historically did nothing but harm to the Indians of the country. I felt dirty and like a traitor going to see the monument.

These buffalo were right at the side of the road. Signs everywhere said not to approach the buffalo. But we couldn't avoid them if they were in the middle of our path!

This is as close as I would get to a buffalo! As beautiful and "American" as they are, I am afraid of them!

This is a group shot of us outside our bunkhouse at Re-Member on the Rez.

We were honored to meet Darryl Red Cloud, great grandson to Chief Red Cloud. Darryl sang a beautiful Lakota song for us at his great grandfather's gravesite. Darryl was very inspirational and informative.

The prairie was super-windy!

This home was cut in two and renovated to house a family of 4. We painted the outside, added some insulation, skirting, a stove pipe, and new windows.

My best friend, Slavica tarred a roof!!!

This was a different home where we also installed a stove pipe. I was told that Pine Ridge loses up to 125 homes per year due to unsafe stove vents.

Chris was the model for Corbin's regalia.

We went for a hike in the Badlands National Park. It was 90 degrees outside, but worth every step! What a beautiful place!

Re-Member is a non-profit organization that works with volunteers to improve housing on the Rez. It was our home-away-from-home for 2 weeks. Check them out at www.re-member.org.

Almost time!

The past week in a nutshell:
Slavica graduated; I got a 3.9 GPA this semester; I celebrated Mother's Day at a bookstore; Patty solved another delimma with the PR trip; and Simon cut his foot on the bathroom door.

So we leave for Pine Ridge on Friday morning. I am packed and ready to go. But the trip hasn't even started before we got our first snag. One of the participants has been hospitalized and diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes; so he had to cancel. I have contacted our first-runner-up and offered her the spot. If she can't make it, I guess we go with just 5 people and try to make the best of it. I am so sad for our friend who can't go. I know how much this trip meant to him and feel very disappointed leaving him behind. But his health is our first concern. And Pine Ridge is not the place to chance any health risks.

I posted some pictures of my best friend, Slavica's graduation party. Congratulations, sweetie! You make us all proud! Bravo!

Closing one door while opening another

Today is the last day of classes for the semester. I will take exams next week and then officially be a senior! It is bittersweet as I am overly thrilled to be done with a somewhat boring semester, but will miss a few routine behaviors I developed along the way. (Sleeping in on M,W,andF because class didn't start until 11:00am! or grabbing a Chai Latte for the train ride from the AIC to theology!)

I registered for my fall classes. I am taking the following:
1. German I
2. US History to 1865
3. Violence and Culture
4. Independent Study (Expressive Culture/powwow)
5. Issues in Cultural Anthropology (Refugee Resettlement)
6. Fieldwork in Anthropology (NSF Grant at the AIC to develop science ciriculuum with a Native American approach)

I will be quite busy! But each of the classes (with the exception of German) are pertinent to my research goals and will be very beneficial and rewarding. I look most forward to the independent study, and the fieldwork - obviously because they are directly related to my work at the AIC.

We leave for Pine Ridge in 21 days. I am ready. Very ready! I am looking forward to spending 18 days in Indian Country! I am hopeful of making new friends, learning new information, seeing beautiful scenery, and helping where I can. I am not-by any means-a handywoman! My skills with tools and home improvement materials are quite lacking. So I am hoping to learn a few while I am there, or offer other talents to the organization's purpose.

I have grown a lot this semester. My outlook on the future is certainly brighter and more optimistic. My work with the AIC and the Pine Ridge trip have really helped to secure my interests in Native American anthropology.

Today is a great day. I couldn't be happier!