Vangie = Evangeline

I was sitting at my desk this afternoon with most all my work complete. And just a reminder, for all of you who have this idea that my job is mearly office work and of no consequence and that I'm not being used to the best of my ability (because I know it's easy to think this), my job is extreamly fufilling. HR is a huge help to the Anastasias Crew Members and lately, I've been able to help alot of them when they walk through our door, and I havn't had to yell for Steven or Cristin. How rewarding it is to be able to do this by myself. My job is very much needed and apprciated here for the life of this ship, so if you worry or doubt, you musn't.

Along with my story...

There were still two hours remaining in my work day but my work load seemed all complete, or that is, all that I felt like compleating was complete. Steven kept waltzing through my office talking of how badly he wanted to bleach his black hair. I tried hard to talk him out of it. I told him his hair was really too dark and that it might turn orange. You just really don' t want to go through with this, Steven, trust me here. He looked at my somewhat discouraged so in attempt to provide some hope, I explained of a friend of mine, back home, who had dark hair and when he bleached it that it worked very well and looked quite good. But Steven, your hair is way darker than Jack's. If Jack had your dark hair, he'd keep it. Leave it alone, I'm warning you. My warning wasn't sufficient. The boy went along with his plan and it happened the way I predicted. He was charged $70 for orange hair. He wasn't very happy. Later that day he had a wedding to attend in the botanical gardens of Cape Town. That night he asked me if I'd heard of Redken and bought a box of black hair color and dyed it back.

I told you that accidentally. I had all intentions of sharing with you my "loading" experience. This week alot of loading has been going on. Equipment and food and who knows what has been hauled onto this boat for the Liberia outreach (we sail in a week and a half!). At different parts of the day, if the loaders need help, an announcment will go over the speakers, "Volunteers needed at the gangway. Volunteers, the gangway". Normally my work calls but today it did not. So I popped my head in Steven's office expectantly and he nodded. Ten minutes later, after flipping the strap on my croc, We found ourselves in an assembly line, hauling boxes down some dark hallway, towards the bow of the ship. For all my belize family members, you know what I'm talking about. I'd suddenly broken into a sweat. I began wondering, intensly, how people do this all day and when I returned to my office, I had a new appriciation for the task in front of me. Twenty minutes later, with this fresh sense of determination, I returned to my work with new zeal.

Well, my title; I haven’t touched on, as you may have noticed. I wanted to start my entry by introducing Vangie but I wanted to end with her too. There were other things I wanted to tell you also so I was forced to choose. To choose between introducing Vangie through a thoughtful conclusion, leaving you with some insights of mine to chew over or to catch you in the beginning with a sharp introduction. I was very tempted to use the introduction but I decided on the conclusion. I wanted badly for you to know of this woman, who’ve I’ve grown to love and I wanted to start off with some snappy beginning about the colour of her hair or the way her hands catch my eyes. Yet as I wrestled back and forth, the introduction wouldn’t do. I want you to remember her. People remember conclusions, I believe, more than they do introductions. Although of equal importance one leave a more lasting and evitable impression. So instead of starting with her, I will leave you with her.

Vangie. Her real name is Evangeline, which I find, in it’s self, a story. There’s something very substantial I’ve found in this woman of 38 years that I’ve grown to admire and become endeared to. Vangie is to Steven what Corinna is to me. No, Corinna is not like Vangie. They’re two completely different individuals. I doubt they’ve ever spoken. I hate to use the word “mentor” because it’s a little too belittling but maybe you’ll understand more of the picture I try to paint. Steven and Vange are always doing things together. You won’t find one without the other at mealtimes and you won’t sense either one feeling a burden by the other’s company because of the apparent generation gap. They sincerely enjoy the other and I appreciate that. I appreciate that ages are being clashed here and that generations come together. The young find company with the older and the older find fulfilment in the younger. I like that aspect of the ship. Steven and Vangie have known each other for three years though so they’re relationship is a little father along than Corinna’s and mine. So maybe I shouldn’t compare, just so you’ll get an idea though.

I’ve found myself, lately, seeking out Vangie at meal times. She told me she likes me. Told me I’m young and maybe a bit naïve but she likes me. I’ll tell her my problems with other people and maybe I should tell those other people but Vangie asks, so I tell her. The other day I was telling her about my work. In my administrative position people tend to talk down to me. And it’s not even that they realize it or mean to, it’s just that I’m 18. The age difference between the facilitators (who I assist) and me can’t help but be apparent. Crew members will walk into my office and ask to speak to an HR representative. I breathe calmly as something like this goes through my mind: I’ve been here for six weeks. I may look small and I may seem inadequate but I’ve been hired to work in HR and I’ll be here for a year! I AM AN HR REPRESENTIVE, DARN IT! Hit me with your questions, try me!! I’M THE REPRESENTITIVE, NOT SOME LITTLE GIRL WHO SITS HERE DOING NOTHING!!! I can’t say that though. I smile unwillingly instead and say essentially that in a more polite order. Other times, crew will waltz right on through my office to the facilitator’s offices, without even stopping to look at me. I’m supposed to filter HR traffic. It’s not that easy when they don’t give me a chance. And then sometimes it’s the mundane things I feel belittled by. And it’s my pride, I know. The other facilitators will ask me to take their trash out or call out to me that their trash cans are full or they’ll give me some of their work, that seems so unimportant and boring, but I need to complete it for them. I know I am the “Facilitator Assistant” so I will go about my assigned duties willingly. I just sometimes know that other people don’t think I’m capable. They don’t even realize that they’re relaying that to me but it leaks through their questions or requests. So it’s hard when the people I’ve been sent here to help hold little trust in me. Especially when I already struggle with trusting myself with the position they’ve gave me, they’re lack of trust is of no help. Vangie knows I’m young but it’s of no consequence to her. She sees me. But she not only sees me, she trusts me and her faith in me in a daily encouragement that I can do what I’ve been sent here to do. For I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. She reminds me that I am able and to not let other’s pre-supposed opinions and judgements intimidate me. I like Evangeline a lot.

When you read this entry I don’t want the focus to be me. I don’t want you to leave your computer feeling sorry for me or only taking from this entry what’s annoying me at this moment. It’s really not s big deal and will quickly pass in time. I want you to see Vangie. I hope that you get to see her instead of me. Don’t worry about this girl. She’s alright. Like Job says, when God’s finished with me, I’m going to come forth as gold. Think about Vangie though and try to appreciate the person she is. She gives people chances and that is something. I’ve noticed that she doesn’t tend to judge by the outer shell but that she gets to the heart and then makes her opinion. That way the opinion is worth something instead of just some critical judgment. I know it sounds cliché but thers something huge to be said for that quality. Yes. I wish you knew her.

Steven turns 21 soon. October 27th. We’ll be sailing and Vangie’s throwing a party for the boy. It’s going to be sweet. 21 isn’t as big of a deal, though, in England. They can drink when they turn 18. So 21, mine as well be the same as turning 19 or 20 but a birthday is a birthday and any reason to have a party on this ship is worth it. We all could use it. The theme is going to be Superheroes. Vange was telling me this and I actually had no idea how into Superheroes Steven was. I went out to breakfast with him yesterday though and was completely filled in. He was disappointed that I hadn’t heard of most of them. Steven knows all there is to know about He man, transformers, x-man, and lots of others that I don’t even remember now, because I’d never heard of them. Vange picked up power ranger tablecloths, blowers, and party hats and batman napkins and spider man suckers and “21” balloons and streamers. She wants me to help her with decorating. So I’m excited about this upcoming party on the Anastasias.

I’m going back to my cabin now. I moved two weeks ago to a new one. Betty moved out and I was invited in. Four nationalities live in this cabin, which we all think is pretty neat. There’s Anna from Holland, Signe from Norway, Tarme from Australia and then me from the States. Tarme’s one of the nurses on the Anastasias. I find that very neat. It really is the most wonderful cabin. Everyone that comes in says so. It’s very homey with warm lighting and soft music, with nice pictures on the wall and flowers on the shelf. It’s tidy and it’s pretty. It’s the cabin that I found refuge in during the last sail and where I heard Eva Cassidy for the first time. And it’s crazy that I now live there. It’s simply a dream. I’ve been making things for it and getting very domestic in this room of mine. Suddenly I’m intent on learning the fine art of cross stitching and I find cook books the most fascinating reading material.

Imagine that.