My Can't-Live-Without List

I thought I'd share which things I can't live without here in England. These items are my must-haves. This list doesn't include things you'd use on a daily basis, like most medications, shampoo and conditioner, soap, contact/glasses, etc.... basically, it doesn't include the things you most likely would remember to bring yourself (I hope?). It's more a list of less expected items that make my life 10 trillion times better.

This is a good list of items if you are planning to live abroad for 1-3 years, in my opinion. Obviously it's geared towards living in the UK, but would be relevant to most foreign countries. It's still fairly early, but I've been here about two months now, and have decided that thus far these are the things I can't live without. I am curious to see how it changes over the coming months. Many of these things were gifts, so if you're one of the gift-givers, you rock.

In first place is: my cell phone. I use it to Whatsapp, Skype, Groupme, and text my family and friends. I use it for Spotify (because mah fave girl Gagan added me to Spotify Premium for Family, I can listen to songs without Wi-Fi when I go running which is super sweet - Gagan you're the best I love you!). I also use my phone for budgeting! This year is a voluntary year of service so I don't make very much but it's definitely enough for a responsible frugal lady to live on.

Enter my Budget App! It allows me to track my Monthly Stipend and my Food Stipend and see how I'm doing. I keep track of EVERYTHING I spend on here and it's pretty awesome. I also use the weather app, the Notepad, and Google Photos on a daily basis. A good cell phone is a necessity for life abroad. That probably sounds terrible to the old hippie PCVs who lived in The Gambia pre-internet and wrote letters that took like ten months to send home, but let's be real, that ain't me. Or most of you. And it's not realistic for someone who is in a long-distance relationship and has a cat. I had an ancient iPhone 4 (gifted to me by the wonderful Jamison) until basically when I left and getting a new functioning phone was a very good idea for keeping in touch with people back home.

Next: is my laptop. Great story: I hate spending money on electronics, so after getting aforementioned new cell phone, I was like cool, no more new electronics. But then two days before I was supposed to leave, my laptop stopped connecting to the internet for no reason. It's four years old and has been abused and loved very much in that time, so I made the rash decision (after asking my dad and Shantonu like five times each if they thought it was a good idea) to get a new laptop that same day because I didn't want to lug my heavy, not-working laptop overseas with me. This one is a super simple, lightweight, no hard drive memory Lenovo and so far I love it. I also bought it on the last day I was seeing Shantonu before I left so I up and dragged him (more like he dragged me, let's be real) to Best Buy during our final few hours of spending time together for the next 3.5 months. I am very lucky to have a patient and wonderful boyfriend. This laptop case was a gift from Shantonu and it's super important for protecting and keeping my laptop in good shape! Also very cute. I'd recommend updating your electronics before departure. It's a lot cheaper in the States than abroad.

Converter: Shantonu got this for me. It's amazing. USB ports, plug ports, and it's usable in Europe, the UK, Canada, and Australia. I use it every day.

USB: Great for backing up documents (that don't fit on my laptop's hard drive) and taking things to print.

Headphones: For Skyping and listening to music. Multiple pairs.

Water bottle/thermos: I do not know how I'd live without this thermos. It was a gift from Mrs. Diane and if she hadn't given it to me, I would have had to buy one (cheaper and less nice, probably). But this one is perfect - it keeps the water super hot for a long time. When I had the flu I'd fill it up and it would still be HOT in the morning for me to drink when I woke up. I drink tons of warm water throughout the day too so it comes with me everywhere. This baby water bottle was another gift from Shantonu and I love it. The normal-sized Nalgenes annoy me because they're cumbersome so this little guy fits perfectly in my travel backpack. I accidentally bought myself an oversized Nalgene right before I left off Amazon which would only be useful if I was living somewhere without potable water. I'd recommend a smaller one if you are traveling/living in a country where there is ready access to potable water in bathroom sinks/restaurants.

Kindle: My parents got me a kindle for my 20th birthday and at the time I only used it for a few school books and some random other reads. Years went by and I even considered it selling it since I used it so infrequently and preferred real books, but something held me back. Then I discovered this past summer that you can rent library books on a Kindle and my whole world changed. I set it up prior to departing for England and it was the best thing I could have done! I had a ready supply of literature (from the Baltimore County Public Library, mind you) through every phase of my journey - Orientation in Chicago, first few days in-country, Orientation in-country, and even now that I'm more settled (and have a library card for the York library!). I'm currently rereading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and reading for the first time the 3rd book in the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency Series on my Kindle. It's helped me discover new books that I wouldn't see on the shelves and it's obviously portable and compact. I still read real books and I've already gone to the library and checked out a bunch of books, but both have a place in my life now. If you read at all and are planning to move overseas, get yourself a Kindle and rejoice.

Hand-Warmers: My dad was the best and went out and got me ten sets of disposable hand-warmers right before I left. When I get my period, I need to have something hot to soothe my cramps and I didn't want to bring my microwaveable rice sock (Shantonu's mom came up with this and it's the best idea ever - dry rice in a sock and you can microwave it and use it like a hot water bottle) because I didn't know if there'd be a microwave. So I had this brainwave that hand-warmers might work, and these came to my rescue when I was at Orientation and thought I might die from cramp pain. I lauded myself heartily for that one. It's a good back-up to a hot water bottle (which I now have, because my roommate had an extra one). They are great if you know you'll be traveling and need hot things for body aches.

Lotion/Toiletries: My skin is terrible so I wanted to bring this awesome lotion from home. It was worth the suitcase space. I said I wouldn't talk about things used on a daily basis, but I would recommend bringing a supply of the basic heath-related things that you need for about a month - things like deodorant, ibuprofen, tissues, hand sanitizer. Everyone says, oh you can get that there! Which is all well and good, unless you're like two days in-country and desperately need something and you don't know your way downstairs yet, much less to the nearest pharmacy. I was really glad I brought a basic supply of some toiletries to get me through the first month and I was sorry I hadn't brought more cold medicine, Airborne, shampoo, and conditioner. All were sorely missed and scrambled for at some point or another. If you feel comfortable, I'd also recommend investing in Diva Cup which is fantastic for travelling and also just life and takes away the urgency of having a ton of tampons/pads in your possession.

Travel Backpack/Bags: You don't need a thousand bags but you do need a good day-trip backpack and an overnighting backpack. You also need a handbag that is secure. And a reusable shopping bag is always useful too.

Umbrella: Always bring a cute umbrella to England, you will need it! This is a Cath Kidston gem from Basma didi that fits in my little travel bag and doesn't weigh very much.

Duct Tape: It's just useful. Nobody needs to explain why. It's duct tape.

Notebooks: I brought a work/life notebook and a journal, both of which I use all the time. I wish I'd brought more notebooks because I got some amazing ones as gifts, but I didn't have room in my suitcase. (Minions are the best! Yet another Shantonu gift because he spoils me. Yes he basically did outfit me to live abroad because he's amazing, generous, handsome, and also knows what he's doing.)

Hillbilly Back Scratcher: I needed this so bad, I asked my dad to send it with my cousin Erin, who came to London, and then I brought it back from London to York. This is my Hillbilly Back Scratcher that I use  at least once per day. The month without it was horrible! Basically, if you have a creature comfort in the USA, you're still going to need it when you move abroad. Lesson learned. I like my back not to be itchy.

Cards/Family Photos: I brought some cards when I came (but actually got sent this set by my godparents as a birthday present) and that was smart - it's fun to send mail home and you need to write thank-you notes, and before you know where to go for cheap cards, it's nice to have some on-hand. I brought a few photos but not enough, so my dad also sent via my cousin some more photos. Don't underestimate wanting to decorate your space, because it's a whole year of living away and it's nice to feel like your home is your own.

Pleasure ≠ Self-Care: Thoughts While Nursing the Flu

I'm nursing my way through the flu right now, and it's pretty awful. It started with me feeling groggy and overtired all week. On Thursday I was at the The Island mentorship training. I could feel my throat getting sorer and sorer and I thought, "Oh no, I hope this isn't what I think it is." By the time the training ended 3.5 hours later I was full-blown snifflingly wretchedly sick.

It's not fun to be sick anywhere, especially far from your usual creature comforts, but I feel lucky that I have a very comfortable house that's accessible to shops, doctors, and pharmacies. My sympathetic roommates have offered me as much solace as possible and in turn, I have followed myself around with a bottle of Dettol (bleach solution) in attempts not to infect them. I don't think it's working; one of them already has a sore throat; that was the first sign of my personal plague too. Well, it was fun not to have enemies while it lasted.

While lying comatose on my bed unable to move, I've been pondering about the concepts of health, self-care, and pleasure across the two countries I am most familiar with thus far - England and the US.

My overall thesis is that having good health is comprised of many components, two of which are self-care and pleasure. Both of these are equally important to the overall picture of health (along with lots of other pieces of being healthy which I won't discuss here). In the US we don't know the difference between self-care and pleasure, and this harms our health; in England, the difference between these concepts is a big part of their attitudes towards health.

In general English people seem to prize their well-being more than Americans. This isn't really news to anyone. The US has a big problem with slowing down. We have a billion dollar diet industry, gyms packed full of devotees, and magazines devoted to Zen living, yoga, and eating "clean". This is all called self-care and it's EVERYWHERE: Instagram, online news articles, blogs, Facebook. It seems I can't go a day without hearing about self-care and it's quite honestly making me feel sick to my stomach. Self-care has become stressful and filled with to-dos: Write in your journal. Paint watercolors. Practice yoga. Breathe. Practice tai chi while listening to Enya and wearing purple. Do this, and you'll feel better!

But when we Americans get sick, when we are pregnant, or when our mental health suffers, it's far less common to see people taking days off work and actually attending to their health in practical ways. It's not culturally valued. In many minimum wage jobs, sick days don't even exist. Why is it socially acceptable to meditate for ten minutes a day (at 6 am, after six hours of sleep, after your third cup of coffee) but not actually take a full weekend off of emails or take a sick day when you have the common cold?

Even when Americans are trying to relax, there's a to-do list. The overall message is that self-care will bring you health. In essence, it's just more of the American way: doing things will make you feel better, but not being productive won't.

This is not a nuanced perspective. I don't buy this. Self-care does feel satisfying and it is most certainly necessary. Sometimes, it can bring pleasure, and if it does for you, great. I do practice yoga; sometimes it is the best thing in the world, but sometimes it just feels like a drag. At those occasions I either stop doing it or I continue because I know it will help me sleep better and feel more centered (or because I've already paid for the damn class). But I'd argue people also practice self-care when they grocery shop and schedule a doctors appointments. It's meal prepping and washing linens. It's not always fun but it's usually necessary and when it's over it's satisfying to have finished that task.

Self-care DOES NOT EQUAL pleasure. Some self-care activities can be pleasurable, no doubt, but not always. Pleasure, for me, is what consistently brings me joy without fear that it's not productive. Pleasure is taking an ambling walk without counting my steps or calories burned. It's drinking tea without worrying if it has adaptogens in the brew. It's watching geese fly over a river and breathing in the fall air. It's lying in the grass without checking my phone.

Self-care and pleasure are two huge, mostly separate pieces of health, but in American culture we get them confused. They're not the same and one doesn't necessarily lead to the other. But they are both necessary. What's the point of practicing self-care to be healthy if we don't actually stop to enjoy and savor our healthy bodies and minds every once in a while (aka pleasure)?

Cats epitomize this concept. Their idea of self-care is to clean themselves and that is a CHORE. And the rest of their time is focused on pleasure: taking naps in the sunshine, having their cheeks scratched, meowing at their food bowl, sitting in the grass watching the world pass them by.

And I think that British people recognize the differences much more too. Firstly, they see the need for pleasure-filled relaxation. To start, most jobs offer 24-28 paid days of vacation per year. This means they can take off days even when they aren't travelling or getting their oil changed in their car. They can just take a day off for pleasure once in a while. This isn't just for full time office workers. I looked at a job positing once for a part time employee at a YMCA. The pay was 10,000 pounds a year, so not amazing. But the annual leave was 25 days off per year! As for maternity leave, by contrast to our three months of (unpaid, not guaranteed) maternity leave in the States, England guarantees 6 months paid maternity leave and up to a year off.

I think an interesting piece of the British attitude towards health is the National Health Service. The NHS is essentially free health care for all run by the government. I paid into the NHS when I got my visa and now I have free health care for a year - free doctors' visit, free flu shot, and very cheap prescriptions and dental visits.

Is it the most fantastic system ever? No. Is it a way that every citizen has the ability to go to a doctor regularly and also not worry if they'll break the bank? Yes. And does it keep people more or less healthy in a reasonable time frame? Absolutely. Essentially, it enables people to affordably, realistically practice self-care.

I talked with my roommate about the NHS; she said it could take months for surgeries to happen. I was surprised. But then I asked if you'd get care for a surgery for a tumor right away; the answer was yes, that would be prioritized. Same with a heart surgery or other life threatening condition. But not for non-necessary surgeries, she added. I wasn't really surprised by any of this. In the US, most surgeries that need to be happen in a timely basis will happen; if the surgery is elective or for a non-life threatening condition, it takes a lot longer. This is the same in England. But the difference is their tax dollars pay for this and ours don't. We pay MORE money for our insurance on top of taxes.

A few days after this conversation, I had lunch at the house of two congregants of my church. The husband found out only seven years ago, well into his seventies, that he had Celiac disease. And as a result, he gets sent EIGHT loaves of gluten free bread and a bag of gluten free rolls each month paid for by the NHS. I was amazed and expressed as much. The wife sniffed and said disdainfully, "But the bread tastes horrible." Good Lord people. The last time I complained about free food was...let me check... oh right, NEVER.

The British attitude isn't, Oh what a privilege to have health care; it's, Oh this is our right and it had better be good. If you take away the entitlement inherent in this attitude (which, frankly, really annoys me) I think the Brits have a very good point. We should all be offered good health care by the government - isn't the government supposed to provide for our needs and don't we pay the taxes in order to do that?

So how does this relate to pleasure and self-care? A free national health system doesn't make people choose between having health insurance and paying for other things; it allows people to prioritize their self-care without forgoing pleasurable activities that also contribute to a healthy body, mind, and spirit.

While I was thinking about all this, I simultaneously felt like utter crap. After a grand total of six hours of sweaty sleep on Thursday night, I just wanted to be at home where I could reach into the bathroom cupboard and grab my Sudafed and Chloraseptic lozenges. I didn't have any food because I hadn't been grocery shopping and I certainly didn't have any cold medicine on me (I'm not Shantonu or my dad so I don't carry my entire medicine chest with me every time I travel ;)).

Friday I stumbled my way to the pharmacy and bought 17 pounds worth of drugs (which was possibly the most I've spent on anything other than train tickets since I've been here). I stumbled to Tesco and bought cream of chicken soup and orange juice. In a stupor I went home and collapsed on my bed. I noticed right away that English-brand Dayquil and Nyquil are not anywhere near as strong as our stuff (whhhyyyyyyyy) but it helped a tiny bit. Saturday I expected to be on the mend, but that was not the case. If anything I felt even worse which convinced me that this was the flu and not a cold. I was nauseous, my body still felt like it had been hit by a Mack truck and I had to blow my nose approximately every seven minutes, so I cancelled my day trip to Malton, my coffee date with my godmother's friend, and my plans to see the concert my host dad was singing in.

I was annoyed about missing my Malton trip because I had already bought my ticket, for a grand total of 6 pounds 45 pence. Not a lot, but STILL, I hate wasting money and I was really annoyed. It also made me realize how much I'd packed into a few short days that I was cancelling. I've been here less than two months. Why am I so freaking busy? It's because since I've moved here I feel a compulsion to do and see as much as possible because it's only a year and that motivates me to want to go, go, go. But also going all the time makes me feel less lonely about being away from home. When I realized this (through the haze of my fever) I felt determined to let myself feel those feelings instead of pushing them away. Sitting with those feelings was part of the point of spending time abroad. I don't want to go home unchanged. I want to grow.

So instead of going, going, going, I laid in bed and moaned and laid on the floor and moaned - and finally took a Dayquil and with the reserve of energy it granted me I made lunch and a cup of tea. And laid around some more. Was it fun to miss all these activities? No, it was self-care. Did it bring me joy to spend my hard-earned money on medications and lose it on a train ticket? Nope, but it will (hopefully at some point in the not-so-distant future) guarantee me better health (mentally and physically).

Pleasure is a day-trip to Malton. Self-care is saying no, I'd collapse on the ground and die if I went, instead I'll use the little squidge of energy I have to make oatmeal and gargle with salt water. Self-care is a list of tasks/chores/necessities that happen every day and make life livable; pleasure makes life joyous and worth being livable. Both are necessary for overall health. They're not mutually exclusive to one another, but pleasure and self-care certainly aren't the same thing. And I'm really enjoying learning the difference here through getting to know British cultural attitudes towards health. You might even say that it's been a pleasurable experience.

A Day Trip to Whitby

Last Friday, my roommate, Katherine, and my host parents went to Whitby! It was one of the most amazing places I have ever been. It was a lovely day, with blue skies and sunshine. We set off around 10:00 am and got there a bit after 11 am.

Katherine + me

The ride was through the Yorkshire Moors and it was SO incredibly beautiful. I've always loved the book The Secret Garden and wondered what the Yorkshire countryside looked like. Sometimes I feel like I'm honoring my inner child by seeing all these amazing British sites now, at 25, because I've always been fascinated by British history, culture, literature, and food since as long as I can remember. I believe part of this is the fact that my godparents lived in England for 5 years right before moving in next door to us, so I heard a lot about it growing up.

The Yorkshire Moors are a vast expanse of what we would maybe call prairie or grasslands in the United States. But it's actually like an endless meadow covered in heather, which is a soft purple plant when it blooms. In the fall and winter, right now, it is a dark purpley gray color that isn't super beautiful but very captivating. I could just imagine Mary, the protagonist of The Secret Garden, in a carriage looking out over the moors as she rode up to Misselthwaite Manor. We drove through a forest, then onto the Moors where we could see valleys on either side of us, and then through some small cute little Yorkshire towns. Finally we reached Whitby!

We parked overlooking the Whitby Harbor. I just couldn't stop saying "Wow!" as we got out of the car because even the Harbor was beautiful. It had a ton of boats moored in it, and the water was very bright because of the sun. The walls of the harbor were very high, which I thought was cool.

We walked from the car park onto one of the main shopping streets of the New Town.

It had lots of fish and chips places and touristy seaside attractions, but it wasn't gauche. On the contrary, they felt very quaint. From everywhere there was a view of the water, both the harbor and further beyond, the sea!

After walking along the Main Street for a little while, we passed the Whitby Fish Market! I have seen a few fish markets in my life and I think it's cool to document them. I saw the one in Ensenada, Mexico, the one in Tokyo, Japan (which is the famous Tsukiji Fish Market), and now this one. Maybe others as well...now it strikes me as funny that I can't remember there being a specific fish market in Baltimore, but I've been to Lexington and Hollins Markets so maybe those fishmongers count :)

We passed the shops onto the pier. The wind whipped us around, the air was salty and invigorating, and we could see miles of sandy white beach stretching below us, all the way to the next town.

From boardwalk to sea looked like a football field long. My eyes followed its length all the way to the next town a few miles away! I could see the white buildings tucked into the cliffside, with the beach stretching from Whitby to that town. More than a few brave souls were on the beach, including a group of schoolchildren. It was already frigid in October, so I was amused to see people frolicking about in their winter gear, happily oblivious to the gusts of gale-like wind, seemingly as content as if it were a hot day on a Caribbean island.

We walked to the end of the pier and stared out at the walls of the barricades and the sea stretching beyond it.

It's impossible to capture in words or images how amazing this view was! Isobel, Katherine, and I could have watched the water hitting the barricade walls for hours. Sometimes a huge wave would swell up and slap the barricades far below us and there was something very wild and thrilling about it.

After walking out and back on the pier, we went to lunch at a famous Whitby place. I wish I'd taken pictures but we were so hungry we just waited impatiently for our food. I had griddled hake with a lemon butter sauce, chips (which are french fries at home), and a small salad. It was delicious!

The harbor splits the town into two halves. The side that we started on, where we walked out onto the pier and got lunch, is the New Town. On the other side is the Old Town, which is on a hill. At the top of the hill is Whitby Abbey and the parish church.

After lunch, we crossed the bridge and climbed through the Old Town. The Old Town reminded me a lot of the small Italian cities and towns I've been to, like Santa Severina in Calabria and Bari in Puglia. The cobblestone streets were narrow but cars somehow still make their way through them occasionally. Mostly it was just packed with pedestrians.

The center of the old town has this stone pavilion and tables in the piazza. I loved it. It looked so community oriented. After having been to a ghost tour here in York, I really wanted to go to the one in Whitby that starts every night at 8 pm from this pavilion! Maybe one day.

There are tons of shops, some for food or necessities for locals, but mostly shops for tourists. There are a lot of jet shops. Jet is a black jewel that was mined near to Whitby for many years, and thus Whitby is famous for its jet jewelry. I think it's nice-looking but kind of depressing; in Victorian times wealthy people used it as mourning jewelry and had cameos of their deceased loved ones engraved on it. Jet is where the term jet black comes from.

So we saw a lot of jet jewelry shops and went into a mini-museum about the creation of jet. We were going uphill as we meandered, surrounded by the many tourists. We finally made our way to the base of a long set of stairs - 191 to be exact - that led to the top of a huge hill where the Whitby Parish Church and the Abbey are located.

At first Derek said he wasn't going to go up with his, but he went up partway and we continued onward. Then he did end up coming all the way up because it was too beautiful not to!

Everywhere I looked I could see something beautiful - the sea, the town stretching out below, the hills in the distance - and it got even more so as I climbed higher and higher.

On the left side of the stairs was a cobbled road that was extremely steep. Katherine and I wondered how anyone could drive up that. I hate driving on hills, it's a pet thing of mine, so even the idea gave me anxiety.

At the top was just marvelous. At the top of the stairs you come out onto the graveyard of the church and you walk through it to get inside the building.

I should mention here that this town is where Bram Stoker is from! And Whitby Abbey is the inspiration he had for Dracula. In the book, Dracula comes ashore in Whitby. As I crested the stairs, I could see why in the best way. It seemed like the setting for a literary masterpiece. The graves rose majestically from the earth, their surfaces worn and unreadable. The church itself was medium-sized and backed by the breathtaking views of the ocean beyond it.

From one direction, the church, the graves, and the sea. From the other, the white buildings of Whitby with their red roofs, the glittering harbor, and the hills of the Yorkshire Moors beyond it all.

We went into the church. It had closed pews, which I've never seen before. That made it feel maze-like.

Surprisingly, the walls are painted white, which made it feel more modern than many of the parish churches I've been in so far. The pulpit is a three-decker one that reaches high above the seats. I wandered around and then lit a candle for 30 pence. I figured I could spring for that to keep the church going for another thousand years or so.

Afterwards, we walked over towards the Abbey. We decided we didn't want to go in because it costs over seven pounds, but we walked through a fantastic garden.

The gardens are maintained and a cafe is run by the Whitby Youth Hostel, which is one of the most attractive buildings I've ever seen for a hostel!

On a small hill at the top of the garden, we had a great view of the Abbey and yet another astonishing view of the town and hills below us.

Isobel and me 

My favorite view came while walking back. The graves stretched over a grassy expanse and the sea dazzled behind it all.

From the front of the church, I could see the church building, the graves, and the sea all in one. This path looks so inviting - I think I could spend hours meandering along it taking in the views - but I didn't get to walk on it. Yet another reason to return to Whitby.

We left Whitby and were going to stop for tea at a cute tea shop that Derek and Isobel like in a neighboring town.

Derek and Isobel 

Unfortunately, it was closed for the season. So we took a winding way home which ended up giving another perspective on the York Moors. We drove through more small villages and saw the town of Pickering, which I'm hoping to go to soon, as well as other cute small quaint clusters of dwelling places and shops.

I admire how the English treat their land - farming and countryside - as precious. They don't see the continuous need to use the land. They don't see the need to always be building, building, building on it. They don't need to have a McMansion for two people that eats up acres of meadow and demands to have its grass mown and watered. It's just a more sensible, resourceful, economical, and environmentally-friendly way of living. It's the opposite of what I've always thought is one of the biggest flaws in our US culture. We can be just as happy with less.

We got back exhausted but so content. It was such a lovely day spent in great company. I can't wait to return to explore more!

A Night with the Street Angels of York

On Saturday night, I donned my warmest coats plus two scarves and made my way over to St. Columba's to volunteer with the Street Angels of York. On Friday and Saturday nights, the Street Angels York go out on the city centre streets and provide aid to those in need. I had emailed with them to set myself up on the October volunteer rota. Beyond the fact that they stayed out from 9:30 pm to 3 am I had no idea what it meant to provide aid to those on the streets.

The Street Angels are, in technicality, a Mission Partner of our church because they have been deemed by the St Columba's Foundation to be worthy of using our space free of charge and doing good "Christian" work in the community. But as far as I know, no one from my church has ever volunteered with them or has the slightest idea of what they do. So I decided I would do that.

However, I was very apprehensive for a few reasons. One, I had gotten no sleep the night before - maybe 5 hours or so (I like sleep and need a lot more than this to be functional). I was also coming off a super busy week and didn't want to be out as late as 3 am. I also thought that the Street Angels were solely there to provide aid to those who were drunk. I had heard someone at church tell me their volunteerism was directed solely to drunk people and not to help the homeless or anyone else. This made me feel like it was going to be a night of pulling recalcitrant drunk people up to their feet.

Originally another fear was that they did evangelizing to drunk people, but this was corrected when I arrived; someone did know enough to tell me that evangelizing to people is not part of their mission or practice at all. Phew.

I volunteered with Lisa, our Volunteer Leader, Paul, and Caroline. Lisa and Paul have been at it for a while but Caroline was only on her second or third run.

Lisa was so welcoming from the start and that gave me a warm, welcomed feeling, which was a great beginning to the night. She explained a lot as she and Paul rushed around and packed up our bags. We all got large orange coats that kept us so warm throughout the whole night. We prayed that God would help us help others in need on the streets (Street Angels, obviously from the name, is a Christian organization). And we set off!

Working with the Street Angels was, without a doubt, one of the most powerful and incredible experiences I've had since I've arrived here. It completely defied what I expected and was so much about accompaniment and service to others.

To start, we made our way down Micklegate to the River Ouse and crossed over. Already it was packed with people. We walked to the left, in the direction of a large shopping district, where we ended up talking to ages to homeless people. Nathan, Debbie, and Stewart have all been on the streets for a while. Debbie remembered Lisa, and after we had given them water we all chatted together for about half an hour.

The conversations we had were really emotional. Debbie is having a very hard time - more than just being homeless, which is hard enough - because her partner of 32 years just died. I surmised that they had lived together and then were homeless together and this was a very recently loss. She was devastated and kept asking why God wouldn't take her, too, because she didn't want to live without him. It was so sad. Lisa was so incredible at talking to her and providing comfort. I listened for a while and then ended up talking to Stewart.

Stewart told me all about his life. He is a heroin user who is trying to come clean and he told me all about this, as well as his recent trip to the dentist - a first in 14 years, and he was so happy about this. He told me proudly that he takes really good care of his teeth and showed me that he carries around a bottle of Listerine. He was given a backpack and a sleeping bag by the new mosque that opened in York not that long ago, and he had recently started going to church, so he shared his thoughts on faith.

At one point, he mentioned that he was 25 and I was so shocked. He is my age. What different lives we lead; how incredibly blessed I've been.

If you've ever worked with the homeless, elderly, or other disenfranchised people, you will understand when I say they have sometimes pressured speech. It's as if they need to get all their words out and someone is finally, finally listening, and they want to share a lot about their life story. I don't often share my life story to perfect strangers (or non-strangers for that matter) and it's not my natural instinct to be much of a talker with people outside my family. But when I meet the homeless I learn so much about them.

This goes back to my theory that the dominant human need we have is community. People need to be heard. They need to feel love. They need to feel like they matter. This need is as strong as the body's need for food, water, and sleep; it is a need more strong than the need for shelter or cleanliness or even medical attention sometimes.

When I think of privilege, my vision of this word is changing to include the access to people who will listen to you. Being lonely is its own poverty; the opposite is the knowledge that you will be heard. I feel so blessed that I am heard by so many (including here on this blog) - people value what I say. I always feel like people I love are there for me. What a privilege that is.

After a good long time, we got a call on our radio. A man was on the ground up by the theatre district and could we go assess and help until an ambulance arrived?

We left and made our way there. The man was on the ground and could respond, but only just. His friend had asked a nearby door staff to phone an ambulance after the man collapsed. They were middle-aged men wearing wedding bands who had been out with friends. At first we assumed too much alcohol, but his friend said he hadn't drunk much but he was diabetic. When the paramedics arrived, the man was loaded onto a stretcher and taken into the ambulance. What struck me was that we asked the friend if he needed us, and he said he'd like us to wait with him. It made me realize again that the human need for companionship in times of crisis is so strong.

The paramedics eventually had to take the man to the hospital to administer a more intense drug and the friend went with them. He thanked us and we went on our way. I can't remember exactly what happened next but in general a few things that happened were:

• We gave out lots of flip flops and water bottles to drunk people, and water bottles and lollipops to homeless people. We talked to a lot of people - most of the time it was fun conversations with people who wanted to know what we were doing.
• Lots of people wanted selfies with the four people in massive fluorescent coats.
• We met a bunch of people who remembered the Street Angels. One remembered Lisa, which I thought was amazing, and told her, you literally saved my life! and went on to describe how she had gotten so drunk and all her friends left and Lisa took care of her and helped her into a taxi.
• We did lots and lots of walking. Walking has been my number 1 hobby here and I love exploring the streets - this was a great way to do it!
• We got called a few more times to go assess situations but sometimes it was sorted by the time we got there. Sometimes it was just offering a drink and making sure the carer(s) (usually there was one or more other less drunk people surrounding a wildly drunk person) were OK too.
• We picked up a lot of glass bottles because those can be used in fights which are extremely common in York.

Around 12:30 am, we decided to go on break. We have keys to a church in the city centre called St. Martin's. It's an ancient cathedral next to a bunch of clubs. In front of the doorway was a girl and her friends clustered around her. She was sobbing and sobbing, lying on the ground in her friend's arms, and had apparently banged her head. We assessed to see if she needed further medical attention - she didn't - but the sad part was she was sharing things with her friends that had happened to her that were very difficult and she was super drunk and hysterical about it. Apparently the friends had had no idea and everyone was upset. We stayed with them until the girl's boyfriend came to take her home about twenty minutes later. I occasionally felt weird, as if we were being intrusive on this dramatic scene and also kind of awkward because it felt like we were part of this deep moment of sorrow and revelation as perfect strangers. But at the end one of the guys came up and thanked us profusely for sticking around and said he was really grateful we were there.

If you're wondering, never once did my teammates offer to pray or try to talk about God with people. Lots of drunk people on the streets recognized us or saw the name tags and would yell, drunkenly, "You're doing God's work, keep it up!" and other such obnoxious things. But I liked how this program is simply about companionship and sharing community with no pressure to be Christian or share faith. That can really turn people off, as I've experienced myself since I've been here.

After a break of tea and candy bars in the church, we headed back out. Paul and Lisa joked that you never knew what would happen after break - it could be dead quiet or it could be insane. Like stepping through the wardrobe in Narnia, they said, except you never knew where you'd end up!

The revelling was in full swing but we didn't get a ton of urgent calls. We continued to attend to people in need just with water and flip flops, and talk to those on the streets. We had a couple other long-term encounters, including one where we helped two hilarious very drunk ladies find their hotel. We saw Stewart a few times throughout the night again and talked to him again a bit.

Then as we were hoping to wind down, we walked back to the clubs near the train station to do a final sweep of the area. We were quickly approached (I guess those orange coats command authority or something) by a hysterical, mostly sober girl wearing a skimpy dress and freezing her butt off. Her friend, who we found out later was only 17, had wandered completely drunkenly off while the girl was waiting in line to get them both food at a takeaway shop. The girl looked around and realized her friend was gone, and other people at the shop told her she'd left. We looked around the immediate area, which were very crowded streets of drunk people getting food, with the girl, but there was no sign of this friend.

At the shop, the door staff said he'd not the seen friend in an hour and we radioed in for people to be on the lookout. The friend wasn't answering texts or calls, and apparently this was their first time going out together. The girl we met was super upset. She looked about 12 (I think she was probably actually only 17 herself, although she was careful not to mention this), and I could tell from past experiences that at that moment all she needed was some parental figures to help her survive the night. After more radioing, we took her to the cab stand and got her in a taxi, after we all decided that she needed to tell the girls' parents. The police and door staff were looking out, but it could be more serious (possibly a missing persons' report needed to be filed, for example)

That situation left me feeling really worried, because apparently there have been some sex attacks in York over the last few weeks late at night, but after we did all that we could, there was nothing for it. After a bit more, we packed in and went back to St. Columba's.

I left with the utmost respect for Lisa, Paul, and Caroline - what incredible Street Angels. They were so patient and kind to the people we met. No one ever made scornful comments about how drunk people were getting or made assumptions about anyone - they just wanted to help. I loved my team. Lisa especially was just so patient, kind, and capable in the most intense situations we encountered, but all of them were really great. Paul teased me about my accent and not wanting to wear a backpack, and I told him I'm American and it's in my DNA to be blunt and forthright. They also were impressed by my imitation of an English (non-Yorkshire) accent! Woohoo!

I went home, ate some toast because my stomach was rumbling after six hours of walking, and was asleep at 4 am.

The Street Angels completely defied what I'd heard/expected. Firstly, they do spend a lot of time talking to homeless people, which we did last night. They consider this an important part of their ministry to the community. Talking is just a big part of what they do in general, because that's often what people in crisis need. Secondly, they are connected with the police and pub/bar/club door staff through a radio system that every person wears to communicate with each other. This is augmented by the CCTV cameras set up in the city centre of York. Essentially no matter where you are you're being filmed, and the police use this to direct Street Angels to different areas. This reduces pressure on emergency services and also helps those in the situation find comfort. The police call on the Street Angels to go assist with many different situations - maybe to diffuse something or to provide comfort in another. They really rely on them and I think it's an amazing system.

I kept trying to ask my teammates in a roundabout way if York was a party town. It was just completely packed with some of the drunkest people I've ever seen in one space. Granted, I'm not a huge partier or drinker, as my friends will be the first to point out, but I've been out in Baltimore and it can be quite the scene, depending on where in the city you are. But it's NOTHING like York is. Every alleyway and street was absolutely crammed with people in varying states of drunkenness until 3 am, when we signed off. Many of these people come from out of town and get hotels, because York is a big city in Yorkshire and surrounded by lots of cute little villages where there seems to be nothing else to do at night besides eat steak and kidney pie and watch football in your local pub.

I don't often talk of my faith at home, but it is very deep and it is what guides me to service. And lately I've been asking God to guide me to two things: one, a way to help the homeless because there are SO many homeless people in York. And two, a way to help those who are lonely, because I feel so strongly that community is such a basic human need.

The Street Angels completely answered this prayer. Their goal is simply providing comfort and guidance in crisis experiences on the street (although lots of times they don't just experience crisis situations, just help with the average everyday drunk person who needs a taxi or water, which is good too). I was dreading it and parts of it did suck - I'm still exhausted the next day and my back and feet hurt - but it's nothing compared to the joy of providing companionship for those who so desperately need it. It is a practice in accompaniment, which is the guiding word of YAGM. I am planning to sign up for once-monthly shifts because it was such a good experience in practicing community. I can't wait for my next one!