MAC Makeup And Red Wine Hears
When a college aged girl who loves Teen Vogue, MAC makeup and red wine hears the words "spring break," a few scenes come to mind, like lounging in the sunshine at Panama City Beach in a new, pink and black striped bikini from mac bag or downing shots of tequila at a bar in Cabo and stumbling her way back to her parent's all inclusive condo. Now, let me preface this by saying that I am a girl who loves Teen Vogue, MAC makeup and red wine. However, my spring break was not full of sunshine, shots and sexy, scantily clad co ed but rather run down homes, FEMA trailors and a group of eccentric, offbeat but extremely caring people.
I don't know exactly what it was that motivated me to sign up for the trip to New Orleans. I'm not a particularly outdoorsy kinda gal, and I knew that there would probably be some hard labor involved (and I had never so much as lifted a shovel, used a hammer or planted a flower). I used to volunteer when I was a younger (and dorkier), but after junior high, "volunteering" meant being the designated driver when my friends went to the bars. However, something in me was yearning dying, actually for a new experience. And whenever I heard about the devastation still present from Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans and a lot of other areas along the Gulf Coast, I knew, or at least hoped, that this trip would give me the chance to contribute something anything to society.
My trip to New Orleans started in Kent, Ohio. The bus ride from mac makeup foundation to Louisiana clocked in at almost 20 hours 20 hours spent eating whatever snack food I could find (my BFF brought Panera bagels yum!), attempting to keep my eyes open during boring movies and praying that my new 80GB iPod wouldn't die. As soon as I found my seat on the bus and scoped out the wide range of people who were going to experience this trip with me old, young, fat, thin, church y, hippie I knew I was in for something, I just wasn't exactly sure what.
From the rumors I had heard from the previous year's students, they had pretty much "roughed it" and had stayed in "camps" basically a bunch of cots in tent like buildings with group showers. Needless to say, when my group pulled up to the beautifully decorated new dorms at The University of New Orleans, the butterflies in my stomach finally subsided. I could take a shower. There was hope that this trip was going to be okay.
Not only were we shacking up in spacious, lovely quarters, we were also assigned an amazing project. The first time I got a good look at Gregory, my heart sank. The children did not have a school. They had portable trailer buildings for classrooms and a pathetic gravel area as a "playground". I felt a little guilty that I was mere miles away sleeping in a dorm room more luxurious than anything these kids had probably ever seen.
We spent the week doing various projects around the school. My group KSUNO! was assigned to paint the sidewalks. I had painted a little before, but nothing like this. It was so relaxing, exhilarating and inspiring to be able to be creative, paint and also see the reactions from the children as we attempted to add a little beauty to their drab surroundings. During the course of the week, I did so many things I had never done before. I planted flowers (!), shoveled mud, and literally got my hands dirty landscaping. I did things I hadn't done in years like watch a talent show, play four square, tetherball and basketball with children from the school. I felt like I was ten years old again and I loved every minute of it.
I experienced New Orleans all the good, bad and the ugly. I snapped mac makeup brushes set photos of the Ninth Ward, the area most affected by Hurricane Katrina. I saw empty lots where houses used to be. I saw FEMA trailers, tiny little metal things that were somehow supposed to replace real homes. I was simultaneously horrified and inspired by the signs surrounding the area that read: Rebuild or Get Out. I saw so much damage, but at the same time, I also saw hope, because there really were groups there helping. Something really was getting done, slowly but surely, and more importantly, I was a part of it.
I fell in love with the French Quarter and the nicer area of the city as well. It was everything I love about cities: Tropical like Miami, classy like Paris, full of bohemian life like San Francisco and busy like New York. I felt like I was in a foreign country, but with all the "down home" feeling of the south (not to mention the fabulous gumbo and jambalaya!). I even picked out the street that I will someday live on. Oh, and I got to peek into some of the bars on Bourbon St. and decided that I will definitely have to go down for Mardi Gras next year.
But perhaps the most inspiring, amazing aspect of my trip to New Orleans was the way it made me feel about myself, and about the human race as a whole. As someone who was severely depressed for a large portion of time, I realized that volunteering and being so selfless made me feel whole, for the first time in years. I felt free vindicated, if you will. I felt like I had made the perfect decision.
Not only did I feel great, I felt like I also made some wonderful connections. I felt mac makeup blush like I could completely be myself around the people I was with, no matter how dorky or ridiculous I was acting. I could be silly, I could be happy. For once, I could be whoever and however I wanted to be and I knew that the people I was with would love me and accept me because their hearts were just that big.
When I signed my name on the final papers for my trip to New Orleans, I knew I was in for something amazing, something exciting, something completely, ridiculously different than anything I had ever experienced before, but I honestly had no idea that it would completely change my life. So, yeah, I didn't get to spend my spring break like the other half of the college population, going shot for shot at some sleazy bar or soaking up UV rays on the beach. I got to do something much more meaningful, something I will (actually) remember and cherish for the rest of my life.
I don't know exactly what it was that motivated me to sign up for the trip to New Orleans. I'm not a particularly outdoorsy kinda gal, and I knew that there would probably be some hard labor involved (and I had never so much as lifted a shovel, used a hammer or planted a flower). I used to volunteer when I was a younger (and dorkier), but after junior high, "volunteering" meant being the designated driver when my friends went to the bars. However, something in me was yearning dying, actually for a new experience. And whenever I heard about the devastation still present from Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans and a lot of other areas along the Gulf Coast, I knew, or at least hoped, that this trip would give me the chance to contribute something anything to society.
My trip to New Orleans started in Kent, Ohio. The bus ride from mac makeup foundation to Louisiana clocked in at almost 20 hours 20 hours spent eating whatever snack food I could find (my BFF brought Panera bagels yum!), attempting to keep my eyes open during boring movies and praying that my new 80GB iPod wouldn't die. As soon as I found my seat on the bus and scoped out the wide range of people who were going to experience this trip with me old, young, fat, thin, church y, hippie I knew I was in for something, I just wasn't exactly sure what.
From the rumors I had heard from the previous year's students, they had pretty much "roughed it" and had stayed in "camps" basically a bunch of cots in tent like buildings with group showers. Needless to say, when my group pulled up to the beautifully decorated new dorms at The University of New Orleans, the butterflies in my stomach finally subsided. I could take a shower. There was hope that this trip was going to be okay.
Not only were we shacking up in spacious, lovely quarters, we were also assigned an amazing project. The first time I got a good look at Gregory, my heart sank. The children did not have a school. They had portable trailer buildings for classrooms and a pathetic gravel area as a "playground". I felt a little guilty that I was mere miles away sleeping in a dorm room more luxurious than anything these kids had probably ever seen.
We spent the week doing various projects around the school. My group KSUNO! was assigned to paint the sidewalks. I had painted a little before, but nothing like this. It was so relaxing, exhilarating and inspiring to be able to be creative, paint and also see the reactions from the children as we attempted to add a little beauty to their drab surroundings. During the course of the week, I did so many things I had never done before. I planted flowers (!), shoveled mud, and literally got my hands dirty landscaping. I did things I hadn't done in years like watch a talent show, play four square, tetherball and basketball with children from the school. I felt like I was ten years old again and I loved every minute of it.
I experienced New Orleans all the good, bad and the ugly. I snapped mac makeup brushes set photos of the Ninth Ward, the area most affected by Hurricane Katrina. I saw empty lots where houses used to be. I saw FEMA trailers, tiny little metal things that were somehow supposed to replace real homes. I was simultaneously horrified and inspired by the signs surrounding the area that read: Rebuild or Get Out. I saw so much damage, but at the same time, I also saw hope, because there really were groups there helping. Something really was getting done, slowly but surely, and more importantly, I was a part of it.
I fell in love with the French Quarter and the nicer area of the city as well. It was everything I love about cities: Tropical like Miami, classy like Paris, full of bohemian life like San Francisco and busy like New York. I felt like I was in a foreign country, but with all the "down home" feeling of the south (not to mention the fabulous gumbo and jambalaya!). I even picked out the street that I will someday live on. Oh, and I got to peek into some of the bars on Bourbon St. and decided that I will definitely have to go down for Mardi Gras next year.
But perhaps the most inspiring, amazing aspect of my trip to New Orleans was the way it made me feel about myself, and about the human race as a whole. As someone who was severely depressed for a large portion of time, I realized that volunteering and being so selfless made me feel whole, for the first time in years. I felt free vindicated, if you will. I felt like I had made the perfect decision.
Not only did I feel great, I felt like I also made some wonderful connections. I felt mac makeup blush like I could completely be myself around the people I was with, no matter how dorky or ridiculous I was acting. I could be silly, I could be happy. For once, I could be whoever and however I wanted to be and I knew that the people I was with would love me and accept me because their hearts were just that big.
When I signed my name on the final papers for my trip to New Orleans, I knew I was in for something amazing, something exciting, something completely, ridiculously different than anything I had ever experienced before, but I honestly had no idea that it would completely change my life. So, yeah, I didn't get to spend my spring break like the other half of the college population, going shot for shot at some sleazy bar or soaking up UV rays on the beach. I got to do something much more meaningful, something I will (actually) remember and cherish for the rest of my life.