Care for a cupcake?

Months ago I attended a Foundation for International Understanding through Students event through the University of Washington. I met a very kind Armenian man who is studying public affairs on a special fellowship.

The man, his wife, and their two children have been in Washington now for nearly a year and this past weekend Dominic and I felt it was high time we show them a little American hospitality. After all the extreme generosity we were shown in Armenia for two years, it seemed like the least we could do to treat the family to a picnic on Alki beach.

The logistics of our American day hindered my enthusiasm as I racked my brain to figure out how I would conjure up a car seat and what we could cook for the Armenians. Fortunately, one of my part time jobs involves caring for 9-12 toddlers at a mom's group in Ballard. The reality of the situation, however, was that we had too many adults and not enough seats in Dominic's two-door Honda. For nearly an hour we went back and forth on what we could make to show the true style of an outdoor lunch and yet not expose our inexperience in the kitchen. Sandwiches--too many options, potato salad--too many steps, fruit skewers--might spoil. Finally, we settled on pigs in a blanket, fresh fruit, chips & salsa, root beer, and cupcakes to compliment the Armenian fried chicken, matsoon, salads and homemade bread. It was quite a spread.

Dominic and I have been huge funfetti advocates for awhile, and made some beautiful spring-like cupcakes for the day. The prized dessert was a huge source of pride and accomplishment. I know, they come out of a box. They were festive.

In an effort to address the car arrangement, I volunteered one of my friends and I to sacrifice the car-ride for the Seattle Metro. The route was easy and I assumed that if I left early we'd arrive in enough time to scope out a table and playing area for the kids. Uncovered cupcake trays in hand, we set out on what I assumed would be a half hour trip.

On the way to the bus, we passed a woman asking for money. Neither of us had much, but I thought it would be harmless to offer her one of our dozen springtime cupcakes. She thankfully accepted. We joked that we were never going to make it to the beach with enough cupcakes to serve as we walked to the bus stop.

As it turns out, the number 15 bus does not always turn into the number 56 bus. This bizzare system had us stumped but we were cold and anxious and got on anway with the hope of finding a different route in downtown Seattle.

Inside the crowded bus we ended up hovering in the aisle trying to balance our weight to preserve the dessert trays. When one man complimented our colorful cakes I quickly offered one out of appreciation. What was one more right?

We arrived on 1st Avenue right by Pike Place Market. This street is a high traffic area in downtown and we certainly stood out. Much to our dismay, we realized that the 56 only comes once an hour and it is the only route that runs to Alki Beach. With a 40 minute wait and 10 cupcakes left, Jessy suggested we go in to a tea store that offers free tea tasting. I've become quite the tea connoisseur since moving to the "land of cafes" six months ago, and I gladly accepted the offer to sit down for awhile.

We placed our trays on the counter and as we sipped blueberry red tea we chatted with the waitress. She was kind and very generous (giving us each a sample of the natural sweetener Stevia to try) so we gave her one of our cupcakes in return. These little things were turning into quite the crowd pleaser!

Upon leaving the cafe, we walked back to the stop and I counted our cupcakes. I knew we needed at least 7 to feed all of our picnic attendees and by this time I was down to 9. I thought that surely we could make it, until a bus (not the 56) pulled up to our stop. A guy ran to catch it, but upon seeing our colorful treats he stopped at the door and asked if they were free. "Of course they are," I replied. "Help yourself." He took one right on that bus! I was worried about the no-food-on-the-Metro policy so I turned my head to see the driver's reaction and sure enough he was motioning to me. I expected to be reprimanded for passing out food to Metro riders, so imagine my shock when he asked for one too! He delicately placed cupcake number 8 in an old coffee cup and drove off.

Uh oh. Now here I was, an hour late to the party and with almost half of my cupcake contribution missing. Poor Jessy was hungry by this point, and it seemed crazy to carry two cupcake trays for just seven cupcakes so she indulged right there. Fortunately, this freed up the empty tray to use as a cover/shield from all the potential cupcake requests between Union Street and Alki Beach.

When we finally got to the beach we were able to serve up a beautiful lunch full of delicious food, soccer, Frisbee and conversation. The kids didn't take to the cupcakes, but we truly impressed my friend's wife, who enjoyed two! Dominic won over the kids with his pigs in a blanket and Jessy cut a beautiful pineapple Cambodia-style. It was a nice day.

I realize that most of my stories come from the Seattle Metro. To be honest, it's experiences like this one that remind me why I wanted to move to a city and why I'm thankful for the 'urban lifestyle'. I'm convinced that public transportation builds communities in a way no other service program can.

Farewell 2008

I like making resolutions and I enjoy starting fresh much more than I tend to reflect on the past.  It seems reasonable, however, to take a moment on the last day of the year to give thanks for the experiences and people that empowered me in 2008, before I start writing about 2009.

This year began in a cold, snowy village half a world away around a table of pork, rice and beef-stuffed grape leaves, deserts, fresh fruit and fried crepes.  My Armenian host family and I exchanged gifts and I thankfully dawned a brand new lime green sweater before everyone ran outside into the dark night-no street lights- to set off homemade fireworks and greet the new year with screams and whistles.  

Life after Armenia has been less festive, but certainly as challenging as I remember my first months in a new country.  Moving to Seattle this fall has brought back memories of introducing myself, learning about the local culture and trying to find my place in Armenia in 2006.  The anxiety today is similar to what I felt as I figured out how my primary assignment, teaching healthy life skills in a secondary school, would utilize my professional background, training and personal passions in that little village.

In fact, there are great similarities between my integration approach in Surenavan in 2006 and in Seattle in 2008.  Informational interviews today involve my invitation to coffee at a local cafe, a strict 30-minute time limit, planned questions, direct objectives and exchange of business cards.  In Surenavan, the interviews took place in a stranger's home, were rarely scheduled, lasted several hours, included excessive eating, personal discussions about my family and exchange of telephone numbers for future text messaging.  Regardless of the approach, or the information exchanged, my objective is identical today to what I hoped for then: to develop a network.  It was more important than ever in Armenia to meet those who would respect my opinions and trust my advice in the community.  I desperately needed to know the right people connected to the mayor's office, leading the community youth group or gardening spinach in their backyard.  Sure, life was different, specifically Armenian coffee and Starbucks lattes, but people are the same worldwide.  

Another similarity is language learning.  In Armenia, would sit in staff meetings and write lists of words I heard the director say.  Afterwards, I would call on the only English speaking woman in the village for reference and translation.  She and I would write out the Armenian and the correct pronunciation and I'd study the new vocabulary from flash cards.  In Seattle, it's not such a process to understand what people are saying to me and how to handle responsibilities in a professional setting.  Regardless, I had a lot of catching up to do in August.  I needed to be able to recognize and define Drupal, Long Tail, News Feeds and Social Graphs.  Thank you, Lara, for your mentorship in all things social media and to PRSA for providing me with seminars and panels to learn more about how the PR industry is embracing Web 2.0.  

Finally, I learned the value of family from Surenavan and give thanks every day for my real one in Ohio.  It was my Armenian host family that celebrated my successes, cared during difficulties and taught survival skills for life in a small community.  My Ohio family took over in 2008 by celebrating my completion of service, understanding when I decided to leave home again and preparing me with survival skills for life in a new city (i.e. a AAA membership).

When I started 2008, I had no idea where it would end.  Some people don't prefer uncertainty, but if there's one thing I learned in the Peace Corps it's resilience.  Oh what a transfer of skills!