Thursday, May 16, 2013

"How Can I Keep From Singing?"

Greetings, my faithful blog-readers! So, I had this big plan to get home from college and immediately write a blog post about how great it is being home. However, two days after returning home, I had to leave for choir tour for a week. So I'm like, hey, I'll write about how great it is being home when I get back home! But, no. You know how sometimes a trip is so awesome you just have to tell people about it? Well, that was choir tour. Now, I love being home and am excited to write about that as well--but I can't just not write about how amazing the last week of my life was. Goodness!

For those of you who aren't really sure what choir tour is, it entails a week-long journey of forty-six-ish choir members (the number varies but I believe that's how many we had this year) traveling around, doing nightly concerts, staying with host families every night, and eating until we pretty much have to be rolled onto the bus for our next destination. Yes, it does indeed mean spending upwards of five hours on a bus sometimes to reach said destination; but on a bus filled with your choir family, you're never bored. I know it sounds far-fetched to refer to almost fifty people as being a "family," but that's absolutely what we are. And I mean, we do have fun. We went bowling one day--at 9:30 a.m.; you know you're jealous--and spontaneous dance parties broke out frequently. And with new host families every night, you just never knew what you were going to get--and sometimes you got some really amazing people.

So we set out for our 2013 tour on Monday, May 6. The tour would lead us through Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, and Minnesota. Our first stop was at a very small church in Cissna Park, Illinois. The audience was small--certainly no bigger than the choir we'd brought with us--but they were one of the most gracious audiences we've ever seen. In fact, after we sang our last notes, the pastor said he was sure that was what heaven sounded like. I think that brought tears to everyone's eyes, and it was the perfect start to our journey.

The next night we were at a much larger church in Illinois, and then it was on to Wisconsin on Wednesday. Our concert in Beloit was probably the hottest concert I've ever experienced--I mean this literally; they didn't turn the AC on in the sanctuary in time and we were practically roasting on the stage. I don't think there was a single member of our choir who wasn't sweating, and we even had a few people getting dizzy and such. BUT...this was another one of those amazing audiences. They soaked up every gospel-laced word we sang like a giant sponge. There was a group from the Spanish-speaking church present that night, so our very own Amanda Angulo got her chance to interpret when Bob, our director, spoke. She was nervous, but she didn't need to be. She interpreted well, and we had people praising and clapping right alongside us. It was amazing.

Then, as usual, we went to our host homes. Now, I didn't have any bad host homes all week, but some of them stood out as more fan-flippin'-tastic than others. My host home in Beloit is tied for first place as host homes go. My choir tour roomie Janelle and I stayed with Meghan Duran's awesome aunt, who was one of the nicest people I've ever met and was a hugger. The house was not only gorgeous, but it seemed like the second you realized you needed something, you could turn around and it was right there. Oh. And they had this ginormous white dog named Woodley. He wasn't so much a dog as he was a polar bear masquerading as a dog. But glory hallelujah, this was the friendliest dog you ever met. Not that that stopped Jeff from trying to wrestle with him...

Woodley won that one, in case you were interested. I should also point out that they were just playing and, even though it looks like Woodley's about to rip Jefe to shreds, they're both fine and dandy.

Seriously though. Beloit rocked. But I was super excited to get on the road the next day, because we were headed up to Waukesha for a concert at River Glen Christian Church. It had to be a total God thing (I suppose everything is, but this especially was), but this happened to be about twenty minutes from where my aunts Susie and Liz live. They'd never been able to hear our choir before, being that they live in Wisconsin, so they finally had the chance to come see us--and, guilty niece moment, I finally had a chance to come up to their neck of the woods and see them. The moment we walked in for our concert, I saw them near the front, looking around for me. I gave a tiny wave and a big smile when they spotted me before going onstage. It just so happened that, from the stage, they were seated directly behind where Bob Ham was standing--so though I was being a good choir student and keeping my eyes on the conductor, I could still see Liz snapping pictures and Susie clapping. Afterward, they raved about our concert and I couldn't have been happier. You always hope your loved ones will like what you do, but responses like these are overwhelming. Plus we got this snazzy photo, which I will always love.

And can I just point out that Wisconsin has some of the coolest city names? Waukesha. Milwaukee. Wauwatosa. I always thought Wakarusa was cool, but some of these take the cake.

The next day, Friday, it was on to Mt. Pleasant Iowa, where the puns about how Pleasant everything was rolled off seemingly everyone's tongue. The church we sang at had gorgeous acoustics and--WAIT FOR IT!--a real, working pipe organ! I know a lot of churches have those so it doesn't sound like such a big deal, but for us, it was. We had an arrangement of "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" that called for pipe organ, but so few churches we'd sung at had pipe organs that we usually just used piano. Because the church in Mt. Pleasant had one, we were blessed to be able to use the pipe organ for this song. The words of this hymn are powerful as it is, but when backed by the powerful sound of the pipe organ, it could just melt you. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much by the end of the song. And our last piece, the one the first pastor had described as "what heaven must sound like," sounded even more angelic with those gorgeous acoustics.

I'm a sucker for great acoustics.

Saturday was the only day of the week we didn't have a concert, and I think we all needed a break by that point. Moreover, I think by then we were all incredibly tired and ready to go home--which is why a day of rest (well, rest and another five-hour bus ride) was so well-received. Plus, I mean, it always matters where the bus is going, right? And this time, the bus was headed to the Mall of America. Which, I'm just saying, is a really big mall. That's all I can really say. We literally didn't stop moving through that mall for the two hours we had there, and we barely scratched the surface of what we wanted to see. But it was on to the church we'd be singing at the next morning to get set up, meet our host families for the night, and eat dinner with them before going to their homes.

Alrighty. So, I bragged on my host family in Beloit earlier. I can't possibly go on without bragging on this one, which is the one tied for first place with our home in Beloit. First of all, it was a great group we had going to their house--there were six of us, two girls and four guys, and we were all more or less good friends. It was just lovely enjoying dinner with our host parents, Doug and Sharon, who were so loving and interested in our lives. As they asked us about ourselves and our majors, some of us realized we didn't even know what each other's majors were and whatnot. Oh. I should also mention that Doug kind of looked like Chuck Norris. You'll see that later.

En route to Doug's and Sharon's house, we got to experience the beautiful hilly countryside of Minnesota. I don't think I've ever seen a place that was just beautiful no matter where you looked. I suppose it helped that for once, we were going to our host homes while it was still light out, so we could still see everything. But when we arrived at our home...I don't think any of us were prepared for how amazing everything would be. The house was gorgeous, and they had a cool deaf dog named Kumari who we kept trying to talk to before remembering that she couldn't hear us. But the best thing, I think, was the view from the kitchen window.
That view. Chills.

We proceeded to go to the neighbor's house, where four other friends were staying for the night, for a bonfire. Here, we got to watch the moon and stars emerge from their dock.
About this time, I started thinking, "Is this heaven?" And then we started singing songs around the campfire. It was all the greatest things coming together.

When we finished, our host mothers insisted we were spoiling them. I'm just like, you are giving us this amazing place to stay and feeding us till we can't see straight and we're spoiling you? Well, we were happy to do what we could. Then, as if to punctuate the point, they brought us pizza.

The next morning, we sang at their church. It was certainly a tearful day as it was the last two concerts for the graduating seniors; but it was a day of beautiful music, too. Our music was so well-received. Between services, we gave hugs to our host parents and took a picture with them. I think that was the first time it'd ever been hard to say goodbye to host parents. But they were just that cool.

At the second service, I had the opportunity to share some of my testimony. I was beyond nervous, because for all the talking I do I'm surprisingly bad at public speaking. Plus I only had two minutes, so that was one more thing to think about. But I had the chance to tell everyone how God had changed--and saved--my life, and even though I was so nervous, I'm so glad I had that chance. I later heard how a few members of the congregation were influenced by what I'd had to say, and I was so happy to hear it. We always say in our choir that you never know who is listening, and it could make all the difference in the world for those people.

And, well, the next day was all travel, lounging at our hotel on Lake Geneva, Wisconsin for the night, and having our end-of-tour party before coming home. It was a beautiful week with people I love and very much consider my family-away-from-family. We were, I think, all sooooo ready to come home. But now that I am home, I miss these people. I'm just so thankful for the memories I have of this week.

We took this just before leaving Lake Geneva. Of course the weather would be perfect as we concluded our week.

And now...
Ten Things That Totally Rocked About Choir Tour!
  1. Eating, eating, eating. Good morning! Time for breakfast in the host homes. Is that egg casserole? Is that home-made streusel?! Ohhh sure, I'll have some... Coffee! You have a Keurig? Praise Him! It's lunchtime! Oh, fast food? Sure, I'd like fries with that. Oh, we're at the church! Oh, rehearsal is done and now it's time for dinner! You made fried chicken and cheesy potatoes? Well, I guess I could be troubled to eat all of those... There's a dessert table? With like, ten desserts? How do I choose? Well, the only right thing to do is to try them all... Time to go to our host homes! Are we hungry? Well, we could always eat. Oh, you're ordering a pizza. Then two more pizzas. Then pushing the half-gallon of ice cream at me (only me!) again. Okay, I can be persuaded...
         Seriously. This is what a normal day looked like. Our host families never seemed to think we could be full--which, hey, I don't so much mind. And I had no idea so many people in this country had Keurigs.
  2. Prayer partner shenanigans. Before going on tour, we draw names for prayer partners and do a sort of Secret Santa throughout tour week. It involves, of course, praying for the person you drew; but also giving them little gifts throughout the week and then a bigger one at the party at the end. Many of us kept it simple and just gave our gifts anonymously, attached cute little notes to let our partners know we were praying for them, and that was it. But you always have a few people who plan elaborate scavenger hunts or make their prayer partners do crazy little tasks for their gifts. Then you have those people who spend the week trying to figure out who has them based on the handwriting in the notes (turns out my prayer partner was sitting in front of me on the bus the entire time I was talking about who could have had me, and I even bragged to him about the little chicken key chain he'd gotten me), and the people who have different people write the notes to their prayer partners to make this impossible. But it's a great time with great memories. I am now the proud owner of a chicken key chain named Gerry (short for Gerund; ask me later), a roll of mustache duct tape, and a cow pillow pet named Jeffa (pronounced Heffa); but--brace yourself for sappiness--I think my favorite part is getting to use the lovely notes, written by none other than my prayer partner Jeff Santos, as bookmarks so I can read them over again and reminisce. 
  3. Seeing how life carries on in other parts of the country. For some reason, I get this feeling sometimes that Wakarusa is the only small town in the United States. I have no idea what ever gives me this feeling, because those small towns are everywhere and people are carrying on their lives in much the same way we do here. Our very first stop on the tour was Cissna Park, Illinois, which consists of about eight hundred people and is actually significantly smaller than Wakarusa. Mt. Pleasant actually reminded me a lot of some of the towns back home. It was just so interesting to watch real life carry on everywhere else.
  4. Brad Marks' post-euchre custom of marching up and down the aisle of the bus high-fiving everyone and shouting, "WARHEADS!" We had to keep ourselves occupied somehow during those long bus rides. One way we did this was the euchre tournament that many entered and many observed. As the week went on, some of the euchre duos came up with some pretty interesting customs and/or costumes. My favorite was that of Brad Marks and Marilynn Ham, who wore Warheads hats for each match. I can honestly say I never thought I'd see Marilynn wearing a Warheads hat while playing competitive euchre. But every time they won, Brad felt the need to march down the aisle of the bus and chant "WARHEADS! WARHEADS!" while high-fiving everyone. It cracked me up every time. Also, they won.
  5. Host families. It was always so exciting to see where we'd end up for the night. Older couple or younger family? Kids or no kids? Dogs or cats? Bed or air mattress? During the course of the week, Janelle and I experienced three bonfires, two nights in a row staying in a house with a dog named Lucy, just two nights of sleeping in separate beds, and just one air mattress. That air mattress, by the way, deflated in the middle of the night and we ended up hovering over the floor on a flat pancake of a mattress for the rest of the night. Hey, it makes for a great story, at least. And all our host homes were just bomb. It was so fun to sit around getting to know them for an hour or more each night.
  6. Singing the Queechin' song. Oh, Lord. There is truly no better way to start a day than by singing the Queechin' song. Every year, a Queech King and/or Queen is designated to "queech" the latecomers--basically, you get charged/"queeched" a quarter for the first minute you are late and five cents for each subsequent minute, and they get to auction off stuff left by students in the dressing rooms. This year's Queechin' song was to the tune of the gospel "This Little Light of Mine." It went something like "It is Queechin' time, yo' money is mine!" followed by "Every time you're late, we gonna raise your rate!" for the second verse and "[If] you don't pay your dues, we gonna come for you!" for the third. Even the non-morning people and those who'd just been queeched were happy to sing the song each morning. And Zach and Cece, our Queech King and Queen, had way too much fun making us do it.
  7. Staying with a Chuck Norris look-alike and a lot of other amazing people on the lake Saturday night. I know, I talked about this already. But it deserves its own bullet point, because these people were such a blessing. Not only did they open their beautiful home to us and let us use their hot tub late at night, they opened their hearts to us as well. Doug and Sharon wanted a photo with us at the concert the next day--almost like a family picture--and are even talking about flying out to Mishawaka for our Christmas concert this winter. That's so special. I miss them even after staying one weekend with them.
    DOESN'T HE LOOK LIKE CHUCK NORRIS?!?!
  8. Getting to know people you previously didn't know very well. When you spend a week on a bus with about fifty people, you get to know them pretty well. It's nice, because then you get closer to those people you always knew of but didn't really know. I even learned things about the people I already knew, like my roommate for the week. It's one of those things you kind of expect will happen, but still ends up surprising you.
  9. Picking up new vocabulary. This one's for you, Cece. I sat in front of Zach, Cece, and Kristen Wagnerowski on the bus all week. It became clear pretty quickly that I was going to pick up some words and phrases I'd never used before. I swear, someone was getting called "heffa!" at least once a day, and people--okay, usually Juan--were constantly being jokingly encouraged to "Get your life!" Also, "ratch," "ratchet," or "ratchetty." I'm still not totally sure what this one means. Basically, messy. But messy? Okay, define that! But goodness, it seemed like everyone was ratch. It was all in good, clean fun and it was always entertaining.
  10. Star Wars Mafia. We literally played this for the entire duration of our trip home from Lake Geneva on Monday, plus much of our trip to Lake Geneva on Sunday evening. It's like mafia, except everyone has a different Star Wars character. The mafia are the Sith, the doctor is Qui-Gon, the detective is Obi-Wan, and the narrator is the Force. Also, everyone has a special power or characteristic. It's so much cooler than regular mafia. I think my favorite part remains the fact that Admiral Akbar can only communicate by saying "It's a trap!" I don't know how I'm going to get through summer without playing this game.
One of the pieces we sang all year was entitled "How Can I Keep From Singing?" Though I loved all our music this year this year, I think this is the piece that sticks with me most. Basically, it reminds us that through everything we face, we can't keep from singing for all the blessings of our lives. On any given day, with or without my choir family, whether the going is tough or easy, how can I keep from singing? 

And, if we ever have any doubt that what we're doing is worthwhile, we can look at how Hosanna Lutheran Church changed their sign after we left:

Just a reminder that everything you do--no matter how big or how small, or how insignificant it may seem--can make a huge difference to those who experience it.