Afolkey to Dubuque: The Adventure begins.

It was surprising when we realized we were going to be in Wisconsin all the way from Afolkey, IL to Iowa. Mostly it was surprising because we didn't anticipate going through the hill-country that is Southern Wisconsin. It was also surprising because it was a state we didn't know we'd be in. And did I mention it was hilly?

All those hills started to get tiring. About the time the Mississippi rolled around we weren't feeling up to the 40 mile trek through more hills (no matter what anyone who grew up in Iowa tells you, Iowa is not flat;) so we stopped in Dubuque, Iowa--right on the Mississippi. We figured we would let the adventure begin.

We went to the first church we could find and knocked. And knocked. And knocked. It was kind of soft, gentle knocking--you know, the kind that whispers "I'm willing to come in any time you open the door." No one answered. We figured they were closed or they couldn't hear us.

The next church opened right up--a lady was walking out of what we thought was the wall of the church as we were trying to figure out which door to knock on. She looked a bit startled. I figured she caught a glimpse of my chest hair so I zipped my riding jersey all the way up and stuttered out something about getting help finding a place to stay because we were riding across the country and weren't feeling well. As we were white guys that had enough money to not look scary, she told us she was "for [y]our cause" and went to get the pastor.

The pastor said we couldn't stay in the church because the security system would go off--at this point it's important to note that Andy almost started yelling about how the church was spending its money--anyway, they referred us to a Catholic Worker House down the street.

The Catholic worker folk seem to be really cool. Kind of like Shane Claiborne only not quite as religious and putting up with more addictive behavior. Basically anyone can come live for any amount of time. It's a community. The first one was started in 1933, I believe, and it was open to anyone. Naturally, a bunch of addicted individuals showed up and drove the people running the house crazy. I'm not sure that they made any rules about it though. Some houses since then (there are over 180 houses now) have made rules about sobriety and addiction--it's really hard to live in a community with someone who is addicted to something--but some haven't and are still allowing anyone to come live for as long as they like. It's an interesting approach to living in community.

Me and the guy talked for quite a while. Here's a reenactment of the conversation:

Here's something I've noticed about living in community--and religious things in general:

It's sort of popular. Lots of young people really like the idea. Well, I might even venture to say that its young people who don't already have a close community around them that long for such a thing. I've noticed that when people are happy with their friends they don't necessarily go looking for new ones. Anyway. So religious folk like the idea of serving their deity--via the poor and the neighborhood, etc--by having a great time sitting around the fire drinking beer, coming up with clever ways to gain the community's support, and getting enough of a part-time job to pay what bills may need to be paid. Don't forget, living in community often means living in poverty. Then they give it a shot and it's not quite like they pictured it. The homeless people they thought would be sort of edgy and hip, at least to work with, are actually pretty psychologically messed up--sometimes in very dull ways--and don't do much more than try to use the nice middle-class kids who are giving poverty a try. The people they're living with don't think the way they do, try to date their ex-girlfriends, and sometimes leave too many dirty dishes in the sink. I think living in community can sometimes be a good example of the way that religious things are made to look a lot more fulfilling, a lot easier, a lot different than they actually are. They're romanticized. They're glamorized.

On the other hand sometimes secular things aren't glamorized in the same way. Sometimes people just like to live with other people because they've ruined all their other relationships via heroin addiction. Sometimes secular things are also glamorized. Have you noticed the media lately?

Are distinctions necessary, or are we just talking about humanity in general? Yes.

I kind of wished we could have just talked with those people all night. However, one of the ladies who was cooking dinner took pity on us. She asked if we wanted to stay in her cottage on a lake nearby. I wasn't sure if we looked naive or pretty drained or if she was just being really nice. Regardless, we took her up on it. Not thirty minutes later we were watching movies in her air-conditioned cottage over-looking a beautiful lake in Illinois. (It wasn't a half a mile from the river).

Andy said he hoped he could be as free with his possessions and resources throughout his life as they were with theirs.