Where we live

and why we live there

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Since this substack is supposed to give you a window into our lives in Christian community, we thought we’d use this first post to tell you about the communities that each of us lives in: Norann in Danthonia in New South Wales, Australia; Trudi in Yeongwol in South Korea; and Marianne in Woodcrest in upstate New York. We’ll end off with some book and music recommendations, plus a recipe contributed by Trudi.

Community life – that is, sharing both our goods and our energies – is the best way we have found to be obedient to Jesus’ command to “Love your neighbor as yourself.” “Life in community is for us an inescapable ‘must’” wrote Bruderhof founder Eberhard Arnold in 1925 (he explains why in the linked essay). But community can take many forms, and the places we live today all look similar but different, in much the way that siblings who grew up in the same household and then went and lived all over the world look similar but different.

For any reader not familiar with the Bruderhof, the following paragraph by Clare Stober (from her introduction to a great book she edited) is an excellent description of what we’re trying to do:

“Simply, we’re a group of men and women who have each chosen to follow Christ above all else, and who have felt called to follow him, together, for our entire lives. We live with our families – or, as in my case, singles as part of families – in communities where we share meals, work, and income. We believe that God wants such a life for his people – a life of peace and unity, where no one is richer or poorer than another, where the welfare of the oldest, youngest, and weakest is a shared priority; where family life is treasured; where there is meaningful work for everyone; and where there is time for laughter, friendship, and children.”

And now, on to our round-the-world communities tour starting with:

Woodcrest

Marianne: Woodcrest is like a small village: everything is in easy walking distance, there are stone walls and benches to sit on, very few cars, lots of swing sets, playing fields, flower gardens, trees, and grass (actually muddy slush at the time of writing). There are houses, either residential or used for community purposes. There are dogs and cats, a flock of homing pigeons that careens over us and settles on the ridges of roofs, and about 300 people.

If you are in Woodcrest at 7:40 on a weekday morning, you will hear the school bell ring and immediately see seventy odd K – 8 students running to the school. Five minutes later the second bell rings; this is enough time to get from home to school, say good morning to the principal in the school yard, and get to the classroom. (A dozen children who come to Woodcrest School from the neighborhood arrive by bus, and the high school students take a bus to the Mount Academy.) Around the same time you’ll see lots of people heading to work in the community kitchen, garden, laundry, garage (we have a shared fleet of cars), medical and dental offices, or the manufacturing facility and offices for Rifton Equipment, the shared business by which we support ourselves (this is where my husband Kent goes; he works in product design).

I work in a different office, and probably the most interesting thing about it is the building it’s in. Known as the Woodcrest House, it’s a three story white mansion which was built in 1907 by a man that made a lot of money running a carpet mill in the nearby Walkill River. He lost his money a few years later and the property lay vacant until 1954 when it was purchased – very derelict – by the Bruderhof and became the first US location. At the time, most Bruderhof members lived in Paraguay, which had been a wartime refuge for this unlikely group of Christian pacifists. In the first years at Woodcrest, a lot of young American families joined (including my dad’s). These were mostly people whose experience of the Second World War had put them on a path of looking for a way of life that offered an alternative to war. Once Woodcrest was established a lot of families also moved up from the Paraguay communities (including my mom’s; they met in first grade). There’s an oval road around the Woodcrest House that was for carriages to drive around, and the nearest house is still called the Carriage House, although today it, too, is boringly full of offices.

In the seven decades since Woodcrest became a Bruderhof a lot more buildings have been put up. The one where my family lives was built in the 1970s; ten other families also have apartments in it, and we share the surrounding lawns, sandbox, swing sets, flower and vegetable gardens, climbing trees, picnic areas, and basketball hoops (and the pool and ping pong tables in the basement). If you think this sounds like a perfect place for kids, you’re right.

And with this picture of our front lawn in spring and our downstairs neighbor Oma Veronica and her giant bubble apparatus, I’ll let you travel around the world to:

Danthonia

Hi Friends

My name is Norann and I’m the mother of three sons, wife to Chris for almost 25 years, and Bruderhof member. Also, I’ve lived in Australia for the past 20 years, mostly on our rural community in northern New South Wales called Danthonia.

Chris and I arrived in Australia in 2002 with our two young sons, and only a few years of marriage behind us. The community here was only 50 people and hardly 4 years old; so it’s been two decades of building family and community and relationships through three droughts, three wet seasons, and all of life in between.

Usually, I teach Year 11 and 12 English and Literature in our community high school, but since it’s high summer in the southern hemisphere we are currently enjoying our summer break. Summer is a beautiful time for all of us – after the intensity of Christmas and New Year’s – to swim, hike, linger out under the stars, and revel in the bounty of our garden harvest. (It’s also a time when I’m cautious to send photographs to friends and family in the often cold and rainy northern hemisphere :)).

We are currently awash in tomatoes, peppers, onions, and cucumbers, so bruschetta, fresh salsa, homemade guacamole, and Bolognese sauces have been the staple of our home and community kitchen.

Because our community at Danthonia is blessed with many younger children, we organize at least one summer evening a week around their interests. Most recently, we gathered at our swimming dam for swimming, a “sausage sizzle”, s’mores, and campfire singing. The mix of joyful children, happy dogs, pick-up games of cricket, delicious food, and the setting sun was memorable:

Our rural community looks green now, but it’s taken years of regenerative agriculture to restore the land. Because of the growing interest in restorative farming, my husband Chris and I have conducted a series of interviews with our farm managers on the learning around that process. You can find a series of those videos here.

While we love to farm and garden, our community’s main source of income is a sign-making business, Danthonia Designs. In addition to creating high-quality signage, Danthonia Designs is a wonderful space to work together as a community.

Until next time,

Norann, passing you on to Trudi in

Yeongwol

Well, Norann, I was born the year you were married. That doesn’t mean you’re old. Not at all. Just more worth reading perhaps?

My name is Trudi. That’s a German name, and so is my last one: Brinkmann. I never dreamt I’d be living in Asia. Europe maybe, Australia perhaps, but South Korea? Tall redheads might blend in better elsewhere, but this is where the plane touched ground and I love it. It seems so normal to live here, a home after less than two years total. I haven’t chosen a Korean name yet, though.

Here’s a bit of background: after graduating college I worked in the daycare and kindergarten of one of our Bruderhof communities in Pennsylvania. My heart was totally in my work (I love kids) when I heard of some families in South Korea dreaming of a Bruderhof in Korea. These families and others moved into the Taebaek area, finding apartments nearby to each other. They found ways to share life together at first, but COVID made that impossible for close to two years. That’s when I first picked up chopsticks and joined the adventure. At first there was one other American, and now there are a few more of us foreigners learning a new language and culture. In between blog posts (see those here) my first months in Korea were spent doing childcare, some farm work, and a lot of observation of rural Korea. My first words in Korean? Animal names. (That’s what kids care about.)

In early 2022, our vision of having a shared property came true in the purchase of a few acres of land, formerly a bed ’n breakfast – or “pension” as they’re called here – in Yeongwol area, Gangwon province. Now, it’s been close to a year since the first of us moved into the old pension buildings at Yeongwol community. Besides coaxing home-grown vegetables out of the sandy soil in the growing seasons and fixing and insulating our houses to get us through cold months, we’re busy doing what the previous owners (a couple in their eighties) could not do. That includes trimming back twenty years’ worth of overgrown weeds and vines, raking leaves, taking down rusty signage and rotting wood structures, scrubbing moldy buildings, and sorting through piles and piles and piles of stuff. (My high school English teacher would never forgive me for writing “stuff”, but it’s such a useful word.) The previous owners were so happy to see a random collection of children and parents and singles bringing new energy and dreams to their home and property. Their dogs lapped up the increased attention from the beginning and have remained here as a vital addition to our community of twenty.

Communal games. Can’t wait for those warm days again.

We’ve seen a year’s worth of seasons here now, each one bringing adventure. The gutters that poured down torrents of water in monsoon season have grown great, long icicle beards. The trees that glowed bright red in autumn are preparing to show off new, green leaves in spring. Whatever the season, my greatest joy is sharing this place with locals plus a continual flow of visitors, many of whom come from the hectic rush of an urban setting. Like me, they walk alongside the river that borders our property, gaze at the surrounding mountains, and most of all enjoy food and fellowship with us. Although my communication skills are still limited, I’m lucky to be learning some Korean cooking. I look forward to sharing a few recipes now and then to give you a taste of Korean hospitality. Buy yourself a pair of chopsticks in anticipation!

Summer grill. . .Korean style. Mouth-watering.

Recommendations and What We’re Reading

(or, the section of the substack you scroll to when you get bored)

Norann

What I’m Reading: I have lots of younger neighbors and a great-niece who love to climb on the couch and settle for a story. What’s on repeat these days is Richard Scarry’s Busy, Busy World. It was a hit with my sons when they were small, and never fails to captivate. Children linger over this one page, murmuring, “Oh that Schtoompah, he is a funny fellow!” while deciding what all the various household items are and where they have originated from:

What I’m Listening to: It’s bushfire season now, which means that each morning brings a hint of smoke and prayers for my nephew and many former students who are out fighting local fires with the NSW Rural Fire Service.

I rise early, and the other morning I opened a message from my sister-in-law Helga, who lives in our community in Tennessee. She shared Paul Nelson’s cello album which has been my waking music for a couple of days now.

Trudi

What I'm Reading: Some day I’ll visit the local library and read a book in Korean but I'm not there yet so I have to settle for audio or e-books in English. My latest favorite author is Elisabeth Elliot, who well understood the need to learn the language of the country in which you live. Among other titles, I listened to Through Gates of Splendor, the story of her husband and four other young missionaries killed by the people they wanted to share the Gospel with. The account could be heavy, and parts were. While she didn’t try to explain away a tragic martyrdom, her book left me feeling as if I’d read something beautiful. I’d recommend trying some of Elisabeth Elliot’s other books after reading this story. I feel like I’ve discovered a gold mine of wisdom.

What I’m listening to: This week I was making a birthday cake with the middle school-aged daughter of my neighbors. We turned on the playlist we’ve created (entitled “Yeongwol Girls”) and the first song was “Into the Unknown” by Idina Menzel. 

Not my favorite Disney number, but seasonally appropriate and oh, so relatable! Who doesn’t know the feeling of heading into unknown territory, unchartered water (or onto untested ice)? Best to embark with a spirited song like Elsa does. 

Marianne

What I’m reading: the plays of William Shakespeare. This is to help my sister, who teaches literature and writing to the seventh and eighth grades, to organize an evening of Shakespeare scenes performed by her students. We’ve picked out ten scenes from a bunch of plays, and my (very seasonal!) favorites at the moment are Winter’s Tale (the students will do the Hermione-statue-coming-alive scene) and Twelfth Night (sadly I was unable to convince my sister to include the ‘Some are born great’ scene, but I will never miss a chance to recommend this production with Jeeves as Malvolio).

What I’m listening to: on repeat, the “Dead March” from Handel’s Saul, partly because it’s extremely beautiful (especially the drums-in-the-deep thing that starts half way through), and because it will be the entrance music for the Richard III scene where the slain Henry IV is escorted to his grave by Lady Ann (who then meets Richard of Gloucester, o dear), and I’m trying to figure out what speed the funeral procession will have to walk.

And now, to end: a recipe!

contributed by Trudi

Lunar New Year began Sunday, January 22nd this year. I’m sad to say goodbye to the year of the tiger (that’s my year) but 2023 is the year of the rabbit and those have some likable qualities. Yeongwol community celebrated with some traditional foods, including some homemade Korean dumplings known as “mandu” (만두). The kids and amateur foreigners like myself helped form the pockets of dough so our mandu tasted a lot better than they looked.

Try this recipe and celebrate wherever you are!

It takes concentration. . . .

Thanks for reading! Because Valentine’s Day is coming up, our next post will be about our favorite ways to show people that we love them without buying them stuff (which we can’t do anyways because of having taken a vow of poverty and having no money at all). We’re also happy to answer any questions you may have.

Wishing you the best,

Trudi, Marianne, and Norann