After picking up the new volunteers from the airport and safely delivering them to their homestays, a few of us went down to Grand Anse Beach for the annual Work Boat Sailing Regatta, held each year around this time. We have some friends from our sister island of Petite Martinique who were competing in the competition, so it was a great time to cheer on some friends and enjoy the views. Local boats compete in different categories for a chance at big prize money while their onlookers cheer from the beach. It was a cool experience to actually know people competing in the competition and lets just say we got really into betting on who was going to win. I made a whole FIVE CENTS! winner!

This Saturday past we welcomed SEVEN new Peace Corps Volunteers to the island of Grenada who will serve for the next two years. This is my second group of volunteers to welcome since my service began in 2010. I always love seeing new faces and getting to know where these new Peace Corps creatures are from. Please help me in welcoming the 84 group of Peace Corps Eastern Caribbean Volunteers...

EC 84, scared and all. :)

The oldies, EC 81Group picture, EC 81 and EC 83

Hello blog family,

Santa brought me an iPhone for Christmas, so I figured I would try blogging from this thing. Technology has left me in the dust since leaving the States two years ago, so bare with me.

Since I last blogged I have been down for the count. About four days after returning from my close of service conference in St. Lucia I came down with a serious stomach ache. As most Peace Corps Volunteers can attest to, we are very used to stomach issues in foreign countries, so my concern wasn't raised to much. Sparing details, I wasn't far from the bathroom for two full days. I decided it was time to see a doctor. When describing the symptoms to the doctor at the hospital, he sounded concerned and quickly hooked me up to an IV and pushed fluids through me. After two bags of fluid, a blood teat and three nasty stool samples it was determined I had a bacterial stomach infection. In the Grenada context, this is probably from the water or not washing my vegetables properly. Both could be true for me.

I spent the day at the hospital and was finally discharged with plenty antibiotics and feeling a little bit better. I spent the remaining four days in bed and can happily say I am back to normal and feeling good. I wouldn't wish those stomach pains on anyone and hope I don't ever deal with that again.

Happy Sunday all.

How do you sum up a year in a blog post, especially a year such as the one I just had?? Hell if I know...

On 27 January 2011 I nervously flew to Miami, then to the Caribbean to begin my adventure as a Peace Corps Volunteer. In the past year I have...

...moved to the southernmost Eastern Caribbean country.

...grown to love and attempt to cook the variety of foods only found in this region.

...befriended 15 strangers as my immediate family and support system.

...logged more hiking miles than my entire life combined.

...suffered some pretty gnarly sunburns.

...learned to speak a different "language".

...learned more about disaster preparedness than I ever wanted to.

...learned how to make a kite out of coconut flex, plastic bags, twine, and glue. You can make a lot of things out of rubbish.

...been asked for money, food, drugs, sex 91239493976439 times. Roughly.

...practically adopted every child I've come in contact with because they are so awesome.

...learned to love new music and new dance moves that primarily consist of gyrating your hips. This ain't your grandma's ball.

...probably had a little too much rum.

...mastered the art of public transportation and greatly appreciated it.

...with the exception of Erin and Taylor's wedding, gone a year without Chik Fil A (basically a sin in the South).

...written something in the range of 50 pages of letters to friends/family.

...learned to relax and enjoy life, ignoring the concept of time.

...endured diarrhea more times than I care to share.

...learned to hand wash laundry and appreciated a good clothesline.

...discovered more about myself than I thought possible.

...never been so passionate about equality and human rights.

...learned that it is okay to be stinky on a bus, you're not the only one.

...greatly appreciated and abused the power of sitting around in my underwear at home. What? IT'S HOT HERE!

...greatly missed the power and genius of air conditioning.

...forgotten what a hot shower feels like.

...grown accustomed to wearing a tie and pants in 90 degree sun.

...thought, "Oh it's a 2 hour walk from here? That's not far at all at all at all".

...spent the night sleeping outside on the ground enough times to realize I don't want to be a hobo when I grow up.

...decided that if there is one thing I am going to accomplish each day it is making someone smile or laugh.

...realized that the easiest way to accomplish the above goal is to do something incredibly stupid.

...ALMOST conquered my disdain for bratty middle school kids.

...read and enjoyed more books and leisure reading than my time in college, no surprise there.

...forgotten what different seasons feel like.

...lived as a minority in a foreign country for a year, changing my perspective towards other peoples/cultures I meet or see in life.

...seen some insects that I hope to never see again on the face of this earth for fear that they will devour my soul.

...broken into my own house three times.

...survived on a terrible government stipend.

...gotten myself into entirely too many situations where my love for Man vs Wild has potentially saved my life, or just made me look cool.

...grown to despise tourists.

...been disgusted by America on a daily basis. Live outside of America for long enough and you'll see why.

...never realized how much I cared about my friends and family until I spent a year away from them.

...been accepted into a new culture and community as one of their own.

...witnessed the power humor has at breaking down cultural barriers. Any barriers really.

...started spelling words like "programme", "realise", and started referring to the letter Z as zed. Its' only a matter of time before I have a portrait of the Queen on my wall.

...learned a variety of new cuss words. They've got imagination down here.

...been desensitized to littering and animal cruelty (not a good thing).

...become a pro at the ol "fake it till ya make it" methodology.

...memorized and sang another country's National Anthem on an almost daily basis.

...learned the hard way that mother nature can be a real bitch sometimes.

...enjoyed the beauty and wonder of the world every morning I wake up.

...loved deeper.

...cared more.

...chased after truth.

...fought for a world where good people exist.

...looked into the eyes of a child and caught a glimpse of what it means to be human.

...What will the next year hold for me?

...What will you accomplish in the next year?

I promise to have even more exciting and wild adventures in my final year. And as an added promise from the last post, here are some awesome pictures of my kids:

Police Officer talking about fire safety.

My grade 6 class

My counterpart, Mr. George

Lorice's new puppies greeting me in the morning.

The students in my program learning about proper health and hygiene.

An Environmental Health Officer talking with the kids.

Erice painting his shirt in grade 6.

Rasheeeeeeeedaaaaa!

My kids playing chess (the wrong way)

Mr. George doin his thang.

***WARNING: signing up for Peace Corps may cause some seriously great friendship to form***I just got back from a 10 day trip to sunny St. Lucia. Man was it a wawonderful vacation! Several volunteers and I went up a few days early before our close of service conference (cos) and got to be tourists for 5 days.

We got a 6:30 am flight out of Grenada and were in St Lucia by 8:30 and checking in to our guest house by 10:30. Travels that day were perfect! Liat was on time! taxi ride to the bus terminal was entertaining and the bus ride to the hardware store in Soufriere was painless.

Clearly, the next step was to enjoy a Piton, the local beer in St. Lucia, named after two twin peaks located JUST south of us, there. We checked in and got settled. All of us were exhausted, BUT! the theme of this trip was, gotta push through, so, we pushed through.

Located just up the road about a 10 min walk from where we were staying was a botanical garden, mineral bath, and diamond waterfall. Apparently, a scene from superman 2 was filmed there... check it out!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bobwPNVZYN0

Now compare our superman picture (below)... clearly we are superman because we have the ability to make it look like we have no bodies.We spent the afternoon walking around the botanical gardens which was... nice... but so many of the things said DO NOT TOUCH and that is just not my scene. Stupes. We found the waterfall and had a good laugh or two back there. Then, we got to enjoy about an hour long soak in the mineral baths. They were warm and soothing and kind of perfect after our crazy busy travel day. Pretty great way to start off a wonderful trip.

Day two we got up nice and early AGAIN to hitch a ride to the base of the Pitons. We hiked Gross Piton, the shorter but fatter of the two. Pitit Piton is said to be extremely challenging and you have to use ropes and such. Gross ended up kicking my arse so that was good enough for me.

We had a guide, even though the trail was clearly marked and we could have done without one. Our guide was female and that really impressed me. I feel that in Grenada women wouldn't have that job, or be allowed to have it? Either way, she was great... in that she didn't really talk at all and every once in a while she'd laugh at us for being us.

It only took us about and hour and a half to reach the top, where the view was just great. The sun was shining up there and we got to just sit and enjoy it all. Taking in the beauty down here is mind blowing. I really love it. At the top we could see Martinique to the north, and St. Vincent to the south. The way down was obviously easier... on my lungs, but I was experiencing shaky leg syndrome as a result to lack of oxygen in them on the way up. All in all, it was a great hike! Glad I got to experience it. :)

Day 3! Phew! Once again, got up hecka early to go ZIP LINING! We took a bus down the west coast to Fieux Fort, the southern tip and then a next bus up the east coast to Dennery, the town closest to the zip line location.

Now, keep in mind we are still pcvs, using our precious savings on this splurge of a vacation, so, where ever we could save a few bucks, we did. We packed our little PB&J sandwiches and put them in black plastic "trash" bags to save a little cash.Then, instead of hiring a taxi to take us from the main road to our destination, we decided to hitch. Boy did we get LUCKY! After walking for only about 5 min a garbage truck passed. Guess who flagged that big guy down! Yep, so, here we were rollin up to this fancy pants zip line place where bus loads of tourists were being shipped in on air conditioned tour buses from the ship and the resorts, and we jump out of the back of this big ol' truck. Shortly after we decide to eat our snack out of our trash bags while we waited.

Zip lining was great. Kinda scary at first, but once I felt more comfortable (around line 2, haha) it was really enjoyable. Another thing I'm just happy I got to experience.

We were really starting to feel totally exhausted! But, our theme kicked in and we pushed through. The next day, WE SLEPT IN! and had a beach day. Where we got to just relax at the beach, in the shade, and did some swimming and snorkeling. We had dinner at a place that LOOKED expensive, but because we are senior citizens, we got there for dinner when they were still serving lunch. Perf!

The next 4 days were spent reconnecting with EC-81 as a whole. All the volunteers from St. Lucia, Dominica, and Grenada came together one... last... time. It was really great to see everyone and hear their stories. Even though we all had very different experiences we were able to relate to each others stories and had many good laughs. Of the 25 people we started with, we have an amazing 23 that made it through the entire service! Congrats to us! This has been a kick! "I have to say that I'm proud to know you, and I'll never be the same because we met." Until next time, EC-81, cheers!

COS, as we refer to it in Peace Corps land. The moment when reality strikes and you have to face the big question of "What's next?" My group of volunteers, EC 81, spent last week in St. Lucia for our Close of Service conference, which focuses on reflection of service, preparation for the transition and weighing options after Peace Corps. It was alot of information in just three days, but it definitely got all of us thinking about our plans for the future after Peace Corps. Before we arrived in St. Lucia we had enough experiences for an entire trip though.

There is a monopoly in the Eastern Caribbean, and there is no get out of jail free card for this one. Liat, our Caribbean airline (notice that is singular) is the only current running airline for the region. Most people in the EC know of Liat by using describing words like: late, excuses, late, late, cancelled, late. We fly on this little thing:

It seats about 50 people, but we aren't allowed to sit in the first or last row for who knows what reason, so maybe about 42 people max capacity. Twin prop planes are LOUD, and they shake. Its fun. Want to join sometime? At least the view of our island is amazing!

Our flight path given on our the itinerary stated Grenada to Barbados, Barbados to St. Lucia. Sounds simple right? NOPEEEEEE, not with Liat, the friendly Caribbean airline. We were 2 hours late out of Grenada waiting on THE plane (only one) from Trinidad. Once finally in the air, the pilot announces there are some passengers wanting on this flight from St. Vincent, so we are going to make a little pit stop. Hmmmm. Imagine if a Southwest Air or Delta flight from NY to LA just randomly said they wanted to stop in Montana for a pit stop, maybe a cheeseburger.

So we picked up TWO, yes two, people in St. Vincent and were on our way to Barbados, now 3 hours late. We reach Barbados, only to get off the plane, through security and right back on the same plane. Hmmmm. Finally, we arrive in St. Lucia, 3 and half hours behind schedule and starving. They didn't even offer water! smh!

Anyyyyyyways....We made it safely to St. Lucia and couldn't complain about THIS view, courtesy of tax payers. Don't worry, we get a reduced rate. ;)

Along with this lovely pool view, we received some mouth watering food. This meal would cost us locally about 35-40 EC dollars and it was FREEEEEEEEE. Free things and Peace Corps Volunteers are one in the same. :)

What's on this plate you ask? Rice and lentil peas, steamed christophene, macaroni pie, fried fish, pepper sauce, potato salad and green salad. YUM! My mouth is watering.

While at the conference one of my favorite activies was giving our EC 81 Grenada group the opportunity to write down our accomplishments as a group. It was an eye opening opportunity to see just what progress and impact we have made the last two years of our service. Alot of times our set backs and failures can make us believe we aren't accomplishing much more than friendships and good memories. But this exercise proved to be a "wow" moment for all of us.

That is alot of progress by just eight volunteers. Then we had to throw in some personal accomplishments, which we took with a grain of humor....

I'm excited about these last three months of my service. Yes, they will be very sad, but I'm optimistic that what I have learned from these people and this country will only project me further into success down the road. I am forever grateful of this experience and cannot say anything but good things about my journey through Peace Corps. These months will give me a chance to sit back and appreciate these small moments that I have grown to love.

Here is to Grenada, and the next step...

I have no valuable excuse as to why my blog is way behind besides telling you I was having a freakin' BLAST in America. Yes, America. That big hunk of a country that melts my heart and leaves me feeling rejuvenated after living on a tiny island for two years. Yes, that one. But when I say America, I really mean the HEART of America, sweet beautiful little Missouri. The hills, the trees, the blistering cold weather, the overly Republican neighbors and community meetings at Walmart. I missed it all, and from December 19th-January 11th, I was able to appreciate everything American, like these things...

My doggies, Jack and Jenna. They are the best cuddle buddies.

Buffalo Wild Wings, because I can't survive without it. And Coors Light.

Family dinners around the table. I made this mean lasagna.

Christmas lights at Silver Dollar City.

Spending time with my beautiful niece Allison, who taught me how to play Dance Revolution.

Straight friends in drag. It doesn't get much better than that...

Seeing the tornado destruction and this beautiful memorial for the first time was heartbreaking.

Spending New Years Eve together with the people I love dearly.



Sorry I haven't written anything in a year (see what I did there?). I've been waiting for one of my projects to start/finish before I reported to y'all, and indeed it has!

Update time. The project I have been working on for a couple of months finally started this past Monday. The project is rather simple and the time it has taken to conduct it has driven me insane. Monday and Tuesday I taught the fifth grade class about the Peace Corps, hurricanes, earthquakes and tsunamis. Next week, different professionals will come in and speak about respect and responsibility, health and hygiene, and the environment. Simple, yea? That's why I've been frustrated and crazy eyed the past couple of months, because there was no need for the project to take so long to start. Yea yea, there isn't really a sense of time or urgency in the Caribbean like in America. I've already learned that and abide by that rule, but still, we started planning this project and I was ready to start it in September 2011... Whatevs. My part is done, the kids loved it, and I am happy. Other then that, I've been great. The schools are back in session. Football is going great and I now have a new role on the field, making everyone laugh--my favorite thing to do. The kitchen is stocked with an absurd amount of oatmeal, thanks dad. My neighbors come over all the time now. My host mom, Lorice, has two new puppies now. What's not to like about life at the moment?? I did get sick one day though, not the typical upset stomach that is so common in the Peace Corps. I had a fever one day which is strange because I usually never get sick. I feel guilty though because I totally felt the fever creep up on me while I was at school but chose to stay, I could have started an epidemic. Luckily, it was gone in the morning thanks to some bush tea.

Right, so the meaning of this post--"tell em tanks!". The phrase comes from the football field. I've learned a lot of lingo there, but this one is popular at the moment. One of the fellas on the field started this, I guess it was his catch phrase. He would say "tell em tanks!" (or "tell him thanks" for you non-ebonics speakers) anytime someone on the other team made a mistake and the ball came into our possession, or any time he thought this would happen. Well the phrase caught on, now we hear it about twenty times during our games, and not just from the originator. I like it, it's funny, but I've also noticed it being used by myself and others outside of the football pitch. When I actually want to tell someone "thank you" and not mock their football skill, I find myself saying "tell em tanks". Needless to say, I've had a lot to say tanks to lately.

Tanks to Hands Across the Sea; this organization works primarily with Peace Corps Volunteers in the Caribbean to provide library books to primary schools and help start libraries in schools that do not have them currently. I don't think I mentioned the organization to y'all because I submitted a request for my school rather late, and it was a specific request. My school wanted to Spanish teaching books, so that's what I asked for. I accidentally submitted the request a month late so I didn't expect us to receive much, and also Spanish books... But I was wrong and completely blown away when Harriet with Hands Across the Sea called me up and told me that my school would be receiving eight boxes of children's books! They were awesome books. No Spanish ones which was perfectly okay because our Spanish teacher had to take on the role of kindergarten teacher instead. The kids and teachers are so super excited about the books. We are in the process of sending our Thank You letters and pictures back to Hands Across the Sea so that they can pass them along to their sponsors and donors. Don't worry, if this sounds like something you wanted to be a part of, the organization does it every year and takes donations all the time. http://www.handsacrossthesea.net/

Tanks to all of y'all that have sent Christmas packages and letters to me in the past two months. I think they all have arrived here and I just wanted to let y'all know they made it safely and they helped me through the holidays away from friends and family. I'm sending more appropriate Thank You letters to you via snail mail.

Tanks to my family for keeping my spirits up around the holidays and sending me lots of goodies. I would have been a wreck without you. Your package should be sent off this week, I had to take something out that would have not made it through customs and instead add some other nice things.

Tanks to the grade 5 class for being obedient and super smart during my presentations this week. Tanks to my counterparts for finally letting that project get under way. And a super tanks to my principal for already having ideas for my next project at the school. I'm excited! I promise to put some pictures up of the grade 5 class next week when we finish the project.

Tanks to my neighbors for giving me some privacy the past couple of days. I said earlier they have been hanging around a lot more, which is true and I also enjoy. But one of the reasons they do this is because they have recently acquired an internet addiction. They are constantly on the computer they share listening to music and what have you. Mostly, they are just on facebook all the time. Why is this a problem? Other then it being an addiction, they use me for wireless internet and computer know-how. Which means they are alllways over at my place. And like I said, I usually don't mind. But when it comes to be 10 at night and I have the older ones on the computer and the younger kids running around my place touching all my belongings, it gets to be too much. For whatever reason, they didn't bother me this past week when I had a ton of work to do, and they didn't complain when I locked them out or tell them they couldn't inside (I had good reason). So for that, tanks.

Tanks to all my students and coworkers for not laughing when I showed up last week with no hair. So I had this awesome plan, right? I was going to grow my hair out real long, like heinous ponytail long, and then come back to America and have everyone thing I had turned into some crazy hippie. Then Ashton Kutcher would jump out and tell everyone they have been Punk'd. Hilarious, I know. Well my hair was down to my eyes (when I pulled the curls straight) when I decided that was a silly plan and it is hot as balls here with long hair. I proceeded to give myself a haircut. I had done it a couple of months ago with relative success, so why not try again? I didn't want anything crazy, just a shorter length. Boy was that a terrible idea... Everything was going great until I switched methods up and ruined things. In order to fix that mistake, I had to go shorter. Then, another mistake happened. I heard Leonardo DiCaprio in my head saying "We must go shorter". You don't disobey Leo, so I went shorter. Five minutes later I found myself laughing hysterically in the mirror as I was using a straight razor to cut my hair. Yep. I went as short as you can get. Like Vin Diesel short. It was a terrible mistake, one that couldn't be fixed. Most of you are laughing at this point and rightly so, a lot of you are asking why? My excuse is that a) I wanted short hair again, and b) I was curious. I've never had hair THAT short, I was practically bald. I wanted to know what it felt and looked like and this is the perfect place to fulfill that curiosity. I would not have done this in America, no way no how. But I don't care about people's opinions here and my two years here is supposed to be full of new experiences right? Besides, even though this is a common excuse for idiotic people with no direction in life who often get in trouble, life is experience and how much can you know about yourself or the world around you unless you experience everything. Yea, so tanks to everyone for not freaking out when I showed up to work the next day. And no, you cannot see pictures..

Tanks to EC 81, the group of PCVs that arrived a year before me and my group. This week they have their Close of Service ceremony in St. Lucia. They don't finish their service and leave us until April, thankfully. But this event in St. Lucia is like their wrap up and unwinding meeting. Plus they get to stay in a hotel with a pool, AC, and good FREE food. Lucky bastards... I borrowed these pictures from Mackenzie, it is a list of the stuff that EC 81 has accomplished in Grenada thus far. I hope EC 83 can live up to their standards and legacy. Tanks y'all!

The business end of their time in Grenada.The fun and personal stuff they accomplished.

Well that should do it for now. If this wasn't enough for you, I've got a reeeeeeeally good story. Just say the word.

tell em tanks,

Brice

Healthy Body = Functional Body. Hollywood Look Side Effect: Healthy Function

My Grandparents chose to love each other when they met as teenagers, and then, they chose to love each other every part of every day, through the Great Depression, through absence during war, child rearing, work, illnesses... Life. Finding TRUE love? They met... And That was it. Again, the true love part was a daily choice whether either was as attractive or as exciting as the day they met. True love depends on each person, not just the one you find or the one that finds you. In other words, Love is a Choice, because we are not 110% lovable 24 hours a day. True love is when each person sees that real life is not like a romance movie script True love is accepting the fact of real life, which brings creative challenges that, with the choice to love, can increase attraction. Popular novels, songs, shows, movies... Each have scripts that are no doubt, inspired. The talented people that write and act, the hundreds or thousands of people that are the list of credits at the end of a movie - from the accountants to the doctors to the musicians and screenwriters - They work on projects that, as finished masterpieces, may often have coincidental similarities to your definition of romance and the most often undefined and over-used phrase... "true love" Again, the credits behind movies, books, shows and songs... include a lot of people. Why, because such productions are intentionally crafted to touch our deepest self. So, they are edited for perfection, music and effects and colors <b>...</b> From: gainaltitude Views: 424842 401 ratings Time: 02:47 More in Entertainment

Since May... I have.... holy wow cow! Done a ton! Went home. Saw tons of friends. Saw tons of family. Ate tons of food. Had tons of FUN. Then flew back to Grenada to be greeted with Camp Tufton. This year, me and another volunteer organized the came for the boys up in Victoria. It was a success and we all had a blast. It felt smoother this year but I feel that could just be because I knew what to expect. We ended the week long camp with an overnight camp out on Bathway beach. Exhausting? Yep. But completely worth it. Love those boys!

And then... CARNIVAL!!!! No words. :)

Friday night: Soca Monarch

Saturday night: White in the moonlight where we literally danced from 11 pm to 6 am (then proceeded to sleep for the next 12 hours)

Monday a.m.- Good thing we were well rested because J'ouvert starts at about 5 am.

Monday p.m.- Go home, sleep it off, get back out for MONDAY NIGHT MAS! Woi yoi yoi!

Now, last year, somehow I made it up to Sauteurs for and second Jouvert on Tuesday morning, but didnt make it to white in the moon light. Both years were a blast and really going to miss the chaos, the dancin' and copious amount of tomfoolery that takes place in these short 4 days.

School started back up and it was almost a breath of fresh air. Back to a schedule after more than 3 months off. WOW! Yep, I needed structure badly. Things first term went GREAT! My reading groups really started to fall into a groove, I knew my students names! I knew the other teachers names! And my recorder marching band tripled in size. This picture if from Child Month March that took place in October.

Here's to one last successful term from the Fire Marching Band.

My family came to visit again in December which was such a nice treat. We spent about 5 days over Christmas in Gouyave and then headed down to La Sagesse, a pretty secluded beach on the east side, where we stayed in a hotel for the next week. THIS WAS A REAL VACATION for me. We pretty much woke up every morning and went right into the water where we boogie boarded for hours and usually had a Stag or two (stag is beer). It was a great visit and Im glad they got to experience where I am living now.John and I on the Osprey coming back from a day trip to Carriacou.

So, it is January, 2012. My goal: blog 3 more times before I leave. Feb post, March post, April post. I think I can! That's all.

I'm now in my 11th month here which is incredibly hard to believe. It's a strange feeling, really. A mix between feeling like time has just flown by, but also I feel like I have been here for years. I think that is due to the experiences and relationships I've had here. Casey and I were joking around about pictures of us from the very beginning and how we look like little kids. We were discussing what has made us feel and look more aged, the sun or the experiences here? The sun might be bright and hot here, but we aren't always outside doing work. I told Casey "I think it's the experiences we've had here...We've seen some shit man". We both laughed as we continued our hike, we both knew how true that statement was and we were both reflecting on all that crazy stuff we've been through.

I've done my best to paint a good picture for all of y'all at home of what goes on here, sometimes the paintings are serious, sometimes funny, sometimes they are missing pieces because I can't divulge everything to you (my little secret). BUT, for this post I am going to compile some pictures and videos of the people I live and work with so you can put faces to names and share some of my experiences.

The Christmas picture with my teachers. Most of y'all were "kind" enough to joke about how I don't fit in.

One of my grade 6 students, Juvell.

Davell

My best friend and little sister Rayanna

Morning assembly

My counterpart, Mr. George, singing during break.

The other teachers in awe of his voice. Mt. Maitland, a nice little morning hike. View from my school.

Some of my grade 6 boys

Welcome to grade 6. 21 boys and 7 girls in this little room.

Marco Polo action during PE

Rayanna loves to draw in my notebook

Staying late after school to grade work. Left is the best.

Me and my infamous host mother, Lorice!

World AIDS Day candlelight vigil

Katie and I on the walk

Hannah at International Human Rights DaySometimes kids take the coolest pictures.

You know, I thought I could handle my first Christmas away in the Peace Corps, but it's been a hell of a lot harder than I imagined. But damn I miss y'all!

Somehow, my budgeting went awry and I've been broke and hungry the past week. That probably added to the fact that I missed home. Honestly, if I had left my computer closed for a week I would have had no idea it was Christmas. As I've said before, we don't have fall or winter here, I'm sweating just typing this. Without winter weather it doesn't really feel too much like Christmas. But because I was surviving on eggs and water the past week I had nothing better to do then watch Elf over and over and follow friends' comment about Christmas online. Cue loneliness.

While I sat around indoors trying not to exert myself too much, I couldn't help but laugh at myself. Here I was bitching at only having six eggs a day to eat and yet that is more than most people in the world. I still have a bed to sleep in, a computer to keep me busy, music, shelter, clean water, loving friends, a beautiful place to live. Millions of people around the world have none of that, no Christmas ham, no Christmas tree, no food, no water, oppression, cold, the list goes on. Usually, I get uneasy around Christmas time because of the what it has become in modern society. I, like most people, hate the wanton use of money and gift giving, people who ask for so much, kids that are upset when they don't receive a certain gift, people who are already so blessed and don't realize it. I'm not saying gift giving and Christmas is evil, I just think it has lost a lot of its meaning. So I sat around this past week, perhaps a step closer towards what I always felt about Christmas, and I was disgusted with myself. I decided, you know what, yea things might suck for me a little bit right now, but not nearly as much as most of the world, I am going to attempt a 24 hour fast on Christmas Eve to have a better, albeit small, glimpse of what some people deal with around this typically joyous holiday. This wasn't a plan to save Christmas, I'm no saint, and this wasn't some attempt to boycott Christmas and greed, truly I just wanted to experience a part of life through the eyes of the people that are forgotten on Christmas day.

True confession: I only lasted 18 hours... One of the other volunteers hollered that the government finally paid us so I used whatever pocket change I had left to head to the bank and grocery store before they closed for the holidays. That 24 hour fast would have turned into 4 day one had I not. I was weak, and terribly hungry. But the 18 hours were nice, they were peaceful. I think the 24 Hour Christmas Eve Fast is a new tradition I am going to keep up. It is a nice way to stay humble amidst all the chaos and anticipation of Christmas.

So my call to you this Christmas is not that "y'all suck for giving/receiving presents and eating tons of food", you can do whatever the hell you want, that actually sounds like a good time. Just take a minute to remember the people that make sacrifices for Christmas and every day of the year. Not me, not people who cut back a little on the gift giving, not your crazy uncle who promised not to drink this Christmas. I'm talking about people who are out in the cold/heat with no shelter, no food, no love, the men and women who serve their country and are stationed far from their loved ones. You think there's a mark on your Christmas because something was missing on the dinner spread, or because the economy is "tough"? Relish what you have, who you have. The reason for the season isn't some baby in a manger, it's not about getting presents, it's not about which pagan or ancient religion has ties to Christmas. It's a season of love, of family, of blessings, of realizing who you are and what you have, realizing what you are capable of and understanding that you can do something to share the spirit of Christmas with those people that make sacrifices every damn day. I know this isn't new to you, my friends and family haven't been blinded by dolla dolla bills y'all, but it is oh so easy to forget this during the holidays. Celebrate the holidays however you want, just take a minute to reflect on what you have and what a lot of people in the world don't have. Maybe even do something about it if you want. The world is full of nice things, but is also full of love. Give love on Christmas day.

Sending my love to everyone!

Right, so about the post office. Because I was rather short on cash the weeks leading up to Christmas, I've been hoarding letters and gifts. I'll head to the post office on Wednesday or Thursday to get my affairs in order. So if you sent me something a) you're too damn kind! b) I'll pick it up next week if it is here already and make sure to give you a call. Jman, your gift will be on its way soon and it is suuuper awesome. Mumsey & Big Pop, don't worry, your letter is coming. Taylor, your letter is coming as well, and it's pretty long so get excited, there's also a letter in there for Erin, try not to lose them yea?

Brice

Buckle up, it's story time.

I was contemplating going into work this morning. Not because I didn't want to work and do my job, but because it is so close to Christmas and there isn't much to do. Really the only reason to go into work is to get fast internet (internet at home is on the fritz yet again), and so I can abuse the hell out of the air conditioning they have. I finally decide to get "dressed"--my business casual has gotten increasingly casual the closer we get to the 25th--and I stroll up to the office. As I'm leaving home I'm listening to my host uncle bitch about the neighbors' dogs and how they "sheeit" everywhere, he claims he is going to poison them. I wasn't surprised by this premeditated murder attempt, probably because those dogs are really ungrateful and decide to bark their heads off every morning at 4 for 30 minutes like they're in that one scene from Disney's 101 Dalmatians. The whole time my host uncle is ranting about the dogs, my kids (who own the dogs) are calling me from their roof to come play with them so my first interaction with people for the day (before coffee) comprised of:

"I hate dees dogs...Mr Tayla!... stupid shit...Mr Taylaaaaa!...hate em, gwan poison dem...Sirrrrr! I feed em an all dey do is shit... Taylorrr!... I'l beat dey ass..."

"Good morning everyone."

Well I get to work, much to my surprise there is no one here really, we're running on a skeleton staff. But I don't let it phase me, I came here this morning with one mission: download a new movie and do some blogging, and if my counterpart came in I was going to tell him my plan for next year (it's a good one). About two minutes after sitting down in the conference room, I start blasting some JT when all of a sudden the power goes out and there is a loud boom. It sounded like something fell on the building, perhaps one of the many giant antennas surrounding us. I walk outside and immediately blame our secretary, it's my unofficial job to make her laugh all day. The 3 of us working walk outside to see if anything has indeed fallen on the building because we all heard the noise, nothing had. We hang out by the fence which blocks a small little cliff/hill to the road when this guy who was hanging around earlier just calls it out "Yeh it was dose powa lines dey. Dey shouldn configya dem like dat." Freakin Eagle Eye Jones over here. I don't know how he spotted it, maybe he was outside when it happened, maybe he is a wizard. Either way, he was right, a strong wind caused terribly configured power lines to touch and spark. This hypothesis was further confirmed by my kids who were hanging out on their roof during the event, like right under it. They gave a rather compelling and hilarious reenactment of the explosion.

All this to say, I'm sitting in the dark as a write up this blog. I suppose this will be another one of those blogs where I just tell you what's been going on without some underlying metaphor.

Life is still good here, just reeeeeeally slow because of Christmas time. There isn't much for us to do as volunteers other then hang out, especially the volunteers that work primarily in the schools. The school term ended on the 15th, but really there wasn't much going on at the schools the week(s) leading up to the end. Kids were just going bonkers, teachers were care free, as Dick Vitale would say "it was pandemonium babay!" On the whole, the first term went pretty well. Our students still have a long way to come before they can graduate and go off to secondary school, but my counterpart and I are confident that we can get them there. I think it 's going to take a lot more one-on-one tutoring on my part, most of the kids just lack individual attention so they don't understand the lessons. But I don't want to think about that now, I'm on school break, so here is a link to the pictures from our party: (scroll to the bottom for the recent ones)

Pictures!

OI! THE POWER IS BACK ON.

I did have another pretty cool adventure with a couple of the other volunteers the other week. We decided that we were going to hike from the main town on the east side of the island to the main one on the west side. It's about an 11 mils hike through the interior of the island. Luckily there is a road that goes the whole way, but that doesn't mean it is a straight and flat road, no no. We proposed to meet at the bus terminal in town at 6:15am, but not everyone showed up until around 7, typical here. After everyone found some breakfast we hopped on a bus that would take us to Grenville. Funny thing about buses in the morning, especially buses that go to distant parts of the island, they take HOURS to fill up. So, after we had waited a good long while, the girls, Katie Moran and Errin, decided that they were going to hitch a ride all the way to Grenville. Statistically speaking, it is damn near impossible to hitch a ride as a guy here. You're more likely to hail a cab as a black man in NYC. Seriously, I've only ever hitched like two rides from strangers here. Knowing this, Rocky and I decided to wait and take the bus instead of hitching because we would only ruin things. Around 8ish the bus we were on starts to fill up, we've got about 9 people at this point, we're not full, but it is enough to leave the terminal. Yet, the driver continues to keep the bus in park, ass hole... All of a sudden this knight in a shiny white bus pulls up next to us, and says to me sitting in the window seat "Grenville?" Oh hell yea son, it's on! So, Rocky and I dash out of the bus we had been waiting on with two other people and onto this next bus that wasn't planning on sitting around. It was like some Mission Impossible nonsense, jumping through traffic, trying not to get caught, diving onto the new bus. Normally, this is a huge jerk move to pull on your bus driver. In fact, the driver of the bus we had been on was furious. It was his own damn fault though, he kept us waiting for two hours, he should have started driving towards Grenville.

Rocky and I pull up to the car park in Grenville around 9am. After taking a quick leak in the ocean, we find Errin and Katie who definitely won the race to Grenville by hitching. In my defense, they have boobs. Might as well have been using steroids. The girls had a surprise for us. They decided to buy us Santa hats for us all to wear on our hike. You ever tried wearing a Santa hat under the Caribbean sun on an 11 mile hike through the mountains? Yea, it's a wee bit hot. Obviously, I turned it into a game, the last person to take their Santa hat off won. Game on. We set out towards the interior of the island, getting PLENTY of looks as we walked through Grenville. People would stop working to look at us, we even passed one house that wanted to take a picture of us ha! Even though we looked waaay out of place, we did receive a lot of "Merry Christmas!... Ho ho ho!... Santa!". It was all in good fun. There is a traditional approach to hiking in Grenada, actually it may just be a way of life, but you stop at every bar along the way and grab a drink. We obliged. Unfortunately, there was only one bar we passed on the start of our hike. Because we were cutting through the middle of the island, on a road hardly used, where no one lives, our plan to hike under the influence was foiled. Funny thing about hiking under the Caribbean sun in a hot as balls Santa hat is that you only need one beer to get you buzzed. In hindsight, it was a good thing there was only one bar in the beginning. On the flip side, we knew for a fact there would be bars, pool tables and cold beer when we finished the hike in 8 hours. Motivation.

Fast forward an hour or two and we are well on our way through the mountains and beautiful landscape this island has to offer us every day. We're even more out of place here. Every now and then a local might drive by and ask if we are lost or need a ride. Side note: whenever you want to hitch a ride it is damn near impossible, but whenever you don't want to hitch everyone stops for you anyways. A couple tourist buses pass by on this road, filled with whities in tacky outfits and sun hats. I can only imagine their response when they see four other white people wandering about in the middle of nowhere wearing Santa hats, "Woooow! Did you see that Nancy?! White people! Here, in this ancient civilization! I wonder why on earth they would be walking here?? Ohhhh honey, they are wearing Christmas hats! Let's take pictures!"

It was getting to be lunch time so we stopped at the next river we found. Now, I like exploring rivers and such. Nay, I like exploring in general. Why else would I idolize Bear Grylls and spent countless hours watching Man vs Wild? I probably like exploring in the water more because my dad used to kick ass and take names in the swimming pool. That is until one tragic panty hose accident that shattered his ankles and rendered him a gimp for the rest of his life... Love you, pops. Right, so the four of us are splashing around in this river, wearing nothing but our underwear (as is customary while swimming in Grenada) and Santa hats, skipping stones, eating pringles, being pale, and these cars keep driving by. Locals this time, and they are just bewildered. Why are there white people in the middle of nowhere, swimming in this tiny river, with no clothes on?? One car even stopped to watch us for a minute or so. I'm sure we were quite a site to see. After a nice break, we decided not to waste our momentum and keep truckin. Another hour or so later and we are just about at the top of the mountain range the separates the two parishes we are traversing. The top of the hill is in sight and all of a sudden the Mr. Bernie's Ice Cream truck comes flying over it. Mana from heaven. These trucks are hard to track down in the towns and here is one out in the bush. The four us wasted no time purchasing and simultaneously devouring our ice cream. There are few things you want in the middle of an all day hike, ice cream is most definitely one of them. Trust me.

A couple hours later--I think, it's hard to keep track of time here--we venture into civilization and village with a bar. Yahtzee! *What a forgotten game, by the way. Yahtzee. That game used to be a blast, now it's just a catch phrase. And the game broke down racial walls as well. Sure, the white people played the actual game made by Milton Bradley, but I like to think that every time you see people in the hood shooting dice and throwing money down they are really just playing Yahtzee.* So we are in the community of Clozier when we happen upon this nice family owned bar/shop/hang out. Through nothing but charm and good looks we convince them to open up for us so we can take a rest and share stories with them. Most of them were sitting around drinking vodka while the others harvested nutmeg, so it wasn't like we were asking much. We probably added a good 45 minutes to our hike just hanging out in the shop, playing pool and proving to the people there that we were indeed locals. It was such a nice break from the heat, plus it isn't everyday you get to play as much pool as you want without waiting your turn for hours. We traded contact info with the owner there, Jeffrey, whom I don't think believed me when I told him that is my dad's name, but he said they would take us on the hike to Fedon's Camp whenever we wanted. Fedon is a history lesson for another day.

Next village, next bar. We're only 25 minutes or so from Errin's place and Gouyave, so this is basically our finish line. We enjoy a couple drinks, conversation with the locals, and the Spanish channel on their tv which is showing Terminator 3. At this point I realize my watch has been broken for a couple hours and I'm late to get back to town, so we head out. A couple more drinks with the rest of the volunteers in town and this guy is spent, but the hike isn't over yet. After Casey and I piss in an abandoned building (again, customary here), and everyone says goodbye to the volunteers leaving for home in the morning, I hike the final mile-ish to my home on the hill. Victory. In the morning, some of us go to the boys home in Victoria to give them a little Christmas Party. Anytime we go to the home it usually ends up in me getting jumped by all the boys. A 12 mile hike + sunburn the day before made it super hard to force smiles and laughs for the kids, but everyone had a blast. I spent the rest of the weekend sick from something I ate or drank, typical, but it didn't matter because that weekend was definitely one of my favorites here so far!

Here are some pictures that Katie Moran took while on our hike, I borrowed them from the internet so they might not be as clear.



Santas in the river.Ice cream!Kids rockI wanted to know why pandas ate bamboo, so sue me.Yowza!Some of the other volunteers, still wearing my hat!At the boys home. I told one of the boys to put icing on his face, chaos ensued.Merry Christmas from the Father Mallighan's boys!Oh, and for the bet we had to see who could keep their hat on the longest... We all "won". I hold true to the fact that I kept mine all day even when I went under water, but Errin and Katie essentially keep theirs on all day as well. We vowed that we would all keep them on until we went to bed and that in the spirit of Christmas and comradery, we were all winners!

ps. I had to finish this post another day because the electric wires touched and the power blew out yet again!

Hope those stories were enough to entertain you!

Brice

How Hands Is Helping

School principals and US Peace Corps Volunteers tell how Hands Across the Sea is helping Caribbean children. From: TLhandsacrossthesea Views: 9 0 ratings Time: 03:59 More in Nonprofits & Activism

Hey all, I've been a lil off so far with this holiday season and kind of wishing I was back in the States. Lots of emotions going on with the holidays, thinking about leaving soon, and the stress of undertaking too many projects. A fellow volunteer forwarded me this article today which helps to put things in perspective. I'll copy the article below. I recommend checking out some of Russ Szabo's other articles as well (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ross-szabo).

Here's the link for the below article http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ross-szabo/thanksgiving-abroad_b_1109175.html

Peace Corps Service During the Holidays

by Ross Szabo, Peace Corps Volunteer serving in Maun, Botswana

Posted: 11/23/11 11:42 AM ET

The holiday season can conjure up some of our happiest memories. In true commercial fashion most of us can smell the turkey in the oven. Hear the crisp crinkle of wrapping paper. Envision the smiles on our friends' and families' faces and dream about the deep sleep that comes after gorging on delicious food.

Those images tend to be different in the reality of Peace Corps service. I am close to South Africa and can find a turkey, but I don't have an oven that can cook it within a day! The sounds of wrapping paper are replaced by 2 donkeys mating, 3 roosters crowing, 4 dogs a barking and 5 sc-a-ry buuuuggggs. Deep sleeping becomes a little harder with the African summer heat, but the smiles are universal.

During the holidays it's natural for everyone to look back at what they did this year. For Peace Corps volunteers that can come with mixed emotions. I celebrate my successes and am thankful for the ideas/programs that worked. I cherish the new friends, little moments I will remember forever and the effort my local co-workers give to help others. I feel lucky to be able to have all of these experiences.

There are also harder moments at the end of the year. This month I had a little case of volunteer fatigue. I started numbing my emotions to make it easier to deal with the unfortunate events that can happen in developing countries. As a volunteer I have high expectations for the students at the center for people with disabilities where I work, but the treatment they receive isn't always what I hope for and it can be hard to balance that. I worried about days where I felt like I was just going through the motions instead of caring as much as I could. Uncertainty about my purpose as a volunteer overwhelmed me.

The holidays can make you miss people back home more than usual. There seems to be a direct correlation between distance from the people we love and a heightened emotional response. If we were home and received news that an uncle was hospitalized for a routine procedure, then a simple hug might suffice, but being so far away can result in days of crying. Some volunteers wish for the familiarity of the holiday season as they sit in a foreign land. This year others might be happy to miss the epic cable news style political battles that happen over the dinner table.

All of these feelings are just a part of the personal growth that comes with Peace Corps service. Volunteers find new ways to add meaning to their lives. As we learn more about ourselves we can better determine what we truly value and develop new ways to cope.

The holiday season is also a great time for some amazing cross cultural learning. Last year the director of the center where I work asked me why President Obama was blessing a bird with such a long neck and made me explain this oddity to the 120 people I work with. Later that day we had our own Thanksgiving meal with other volunteers and local friends. We all shared what we were thankful for that year. My friends from Botswana shared how much they appreciated this custom and were thrilled to be a part of our holiday.

Volunteers have the chance to go into their villages and bring American traditions into new homes, while sharing hysterical, awkward and soothing rituals. It's also a time to gain appreciation for however people in a different country celebrate Christmas and other holidays. In Botswana it's common to have a large meal for Christmas, but when I asked about Santa Claus I got some truly confused looks. Spending these moments so far from home may not replace the people we miss, but it certainly adds life and comfort to this time of year.

It's common to hear comments from political leaders, public service announcements and other officials stating to remember the troops serving our nation during the holidays. Obviously we should do this, but don't forget the Peace Corps Volunteers! We signed up for 2 years of service and while we're not on the front lines in war, we are on the front lines of diplomacy, representing America the best ways we can.

This Saturday past was International Human Rights Day around the world. Every year, people from all over the world gather and organize events to commemorate Human Rights in their respective countries. As it stands, the Declaration of Human Rights is the most translated document in history, having been translated into over 382 different languages and dialects.

Everyone has the right to basic human rights as outlined in the Declaration, and each country has the responsibility of ensuring its people they are given these rights. On Saturday, over 100 people marched for their human rights in Grenada. I'm sure a few of you remember last years Human Rights Day, which I helped introduced and implement the first human rights ribbon in Grenada. This year, we added the human rights march through town and the internationally known Clothesline Project (http://www.clotheslineproject.org/).

The day was overwhelmingly successful with the help of many in attendance and the assistance of community partners. This event concluded the 16 Days of Activism to Protest Violence Against Women (Nov. 25-Dec. 10) and was indeed a chance for us to go out with a bang before Christmas break. If you remember last year, it took some time for the human ribbon idea to take hold and be understood by those in attendance.

Last year's human ribbon

This year's human ribbon

Improvement indeed if I may say so myself. During the planning stages and initial days leading up to the event we weren't sure we had engaged the public enough, but the day of the march we showed up to a decent amount of people and a huge improvement from last year. Engaging stakeholders and planning EARLY (which is hard to do on island time) set the event up for success and we all should be proud of the work we accomplished. Hopefully next year the event will be ever larger! Until then, check out some more pictures....

When Great Books Come to School

With help from Hands Across the Sea, a primary-school principal and a US Peace Corps Volunteer are improving child literacy on the island of St. Kitts. From: TLhandsacrossthesea Views: 0 0 ratings Time: 01:47 More in Nonprofits & Activism

The first week of December in Grenada is packed tight with school fairs. Its an opportunity for the children and families to have a kid-friendly environment that is fun and safe for all. But its also the largest fundraiser of the year for the schools around the island. Fundraiser for what you may ask? Sadly...the basics. Pens, pencils, notebooks, markers, etc for the teachers and students. The kids LOVE school fair with the various game booths, plenty food and blaring loud music. They wear their best outfits and bring all their coins they can round up around the house. This year I think the school fair was a big success and we raised a good amount of money to support the children through the rest of the year.

This tent was set up as the "Pick a leaf" prize table. The kids paid 3 dollars to pick a leaf off the tree. The leaf had a number on it and that number determined which set of prizes they got to chose from. The kids LOVED picked the leaves and then getting to chose exactly the prize they wanted.

Mr. Kentish, a new student in our school this year. He is a handful but this smile is so precious. He was enjoying his third cup of soda. Bless his parents hearts. haha.

No Grenadian event is complete without loads and loads of fried chicken. I helped take the money for this table and by my 8th hour of saying 7 dollars for chicken and chips, I was OVER chicken. :)

The beauty salon table, where you could get your nails and makeup done for just 3 dollars. It was a popular one amongst the aspiring beauty queens.

Face painting was awesome this year because they got rid of me! haha. They recruited some art students from the local community college and they did excellent. Don't mind Ms. Kaylah, she wasn't interested in her picture being taken.

This is my counterpart, Ms. Mitchell, who doubled as the fried chicken and chips master for the fair.

Tymickie (tuh-my-kee), who had about 4 ice cream cones and enjoyed every single one. :)

Shardina and her beautiful face painting.

I know this post is a little late, but I found it necessary to share with everyone our pictures from the volunteer Thanksgiving. We celebrated a day late, as we don't receive American holidays off and our schedules were booked full. But Friday turned out to be perfect timing. We also got the opportunity to participate in goal #3 of the Peace Corps, in sharing American culture with our host country. Our local friends and counterparts were invited to the event and I have to say this is one of my favorite holidays to share with the Grenadian locals. Check out the pictures....

Hello all!

I'm home sick for the day. Rather than relaxing, I'm feeling rather productive today so I'm trying to get a lot of work done before my reading program meeting this afternoon.

With the handover of my reading program, Spice Island Young Readers, to my former worksite I was supposed to finally get a little break in work and have some free time for once. That doesn't seem to be the case. Logically, I know I want a break and I NEED a break but I just can't seem to make that happen. As a naturally hard-working and motivated individual it's hard for me to sit back and relax. It's especially hard when I feel like I'm just getting into a place where I generally understand how to create programs and know what to expect from the process. As a result, it seems that next term will be a busy time for me. Hopefully, my request for an extension will be approved because it would be a shame to get all these projects going and have to leave abruptly in April. As it stands, I will be continuing my afterschool arts and crafts program for grade 6. It also looks like my afterschool tutoring program will finally be able to start back up. I'll still be acting as school librarian, and also working with some students on improving their reading/writing skills. In addition, I'll be starting an afterschool program for grade 3 teaching them to play the recorder. I have to thank Ms. Torchia from Maple Point Middle School for her incredibly generous donation of 20+ recorders, as well as a teaching manual and music. I'm really looking forward to starting the program and I know the kids are going to love it.

Outside of school, I am spearheading (with another volunteer) the playground project at the Grenville Special Education School. The project was supposed to be part of the Peace Corps 50th Anniversary Celebration but we've been having a lot of setbacks with it, which I'm hoping will change very soon.

Also outside of school, I am still going weekly to my reading program sessions in Crochu. Our funder came this past weekend to do a final evaluation. She gave me a lot of praise which felt really good. Also, as a result of her visit, I learned that the Ministry has stated that they would like the program to be sustained and will be assigning some Youth Development workers to the program. This could really be helpful if things pan out.

Often times you will hear Peace Corps Volunteers talk about having a large amount of down time on their hands that allows for a lot of self reflection, developing of hobbies and skills, and stacks of books being read. Aside from my first couple of months on the island, I have never had that experience here. Instead, my bucket list of things I want to do/see before I leave keeps getting longer and longer. In all honesty, I am just as stressed out down here as I was at my last job as a child welfare social worker for the City of Philadlelphia, and am working just as many hours if not more (think 50-60 a week). I'm hoping that this Christmas break will provide me with an opportunity to relax and help me to 'chill out' so that I can start next school term refreshed, rejuvenated and ready to appreciate everything that life has to offer. Let's keep our fingers crossed.

Alright, finally got the link up this week!

As I noted in the YouTube description, this is a documentary made by Peace Corps Volunteers in Grenada, West Indies to celebrate the PC's 50th Anniversary (1961-2011). Grenada has been a host country from 1967-1979, then 1986-present. An estimated 500 Volunteers have served in country since 1967. Video was edited by PCVs Katie Moran and Jon Hanna, EC-81 (2010-2012). It aired on local television stations MTV, CC6, and GBN from 11.28.11 thru 12.7.11. [Run time is 27 minutes]

-JH

Happy Monday everyone!

I started my week off on a good note. I arrived with one of my favorite, smiley 5th grade boys today. Upon arrival, I asked him how his weekend was. "Bad", he replied. "Oh no! Why's that?". He turns to look at me and says "Miss, I didn't get a chance to read my book!"

A lot of the time, I don't feel like I've made much difference here and that I'll be forgotten within a week of my departure. However, this morning helped me to see that maybe I at least made some kids happy. That library...it's making a difference. Maybe it doesn't seem like some big life-changing accomplishment to me, but it means a lot to some of these kids. I can live with that.

Speaking of making differences, as most of you may know this year was the 50th Anniversary of the Peace Corps. A couple of our talented voluntters here in Grenada made an amazing documentary about the Peace Corps involvement in Grenada. You can check it out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWTSRyVMmVQ

If you've got 30 minutes to spend, here is an awesome video some of the other volunteers put together and slaved over this summer. The video chronicles the work of the Peace Corps in Grenada, past and present. It's pretty good, but could definitely use a lot more of my face. Just sayin.

Promo Clip- Peace Corps Grenada Doc.

Promotional Clip for Peace Corps- Grenada's 50th Anniv. Documentary From: tiredmeliorist Views: 0 0 ratings Time: 00:32 More in Nonprofits & Activism

Grenada's 50th Anniv. Documentary (2011)

A documentary made by PC Volunteers in Grenada, West Indies to celebrate the Peace Corps' 50th Anniversary. Grenada has been a host country from 1967-1979, then 1986-present. An estimated 500 Volunteers have served in country since 1967. From: tiredmeliorist Views: 7 0 ratings Time: 27:00 More in Nonprofits & Activism

Well, we’ve been busier than ever lately, so the blog has taken a back seat. It's been very hard to juggle the stuff I need to do for myself while maintaining various projects. I find myself working harder than I've ever worked in my life! For instance, weeknights are spent planning and getting stuff organized for teaching the next day while Saturday and Sundays are full workdays, researching, and writing things like grant proposals and reports. No time for enjoying this beautiful island I'm on! I’ve also been editing a video for the 50th Anniversary of the Peace Corps. It’s set to air on local television this week, but I’ve had a hell of a time getting it up on YouTube. I’ll post it here once I figure that out.

In terms of time, I can't help but think of the image often presented on blogs and YouTube by PCVs in other parts of the world, that there is tons of down time to figure your life out. This seems very appealing- taking time to help other people and figure out what's important in your life. Well, how can I do that while working 70 hours a week? Often these other Volunteers talk of having tons of free time to read books. I can't tell you how many times I've seen that: "Here's a picture of all the books I read in the Peace Corps." Is that some sick joke? Where did they get the time to read all that?? Well, I have a nice stack of books, too: ones that I plan to read when I'm NOT in the Peace Corps.

Anyway, here’s a promo for the 50th video mentioned above. It’s actually a plug for the local news. The full video is forthcoming.

-JH

While you look for ways to work off that Thanksgiving feast weight and legally start listening to Christmas music, enjoy:

Before I tell you all that I am thankful for this year, here is a small update on life. Things continue to go well in the Isle of Spice. It seems to be getting a tad colder here, and by cold I mean like 80-85F. It has also been raining a lot, per usual. We're closing out the official Hurricane season, but really we haven't had much of a threat this year. I've gone back to playing football. I was under the impression that the fellas didn't practice anymore since the season was over, but we still go to the pasture to play small goal. The bright side of this is that I get the exercise I need/want and continued integration. The down side is that I've blown out 2.5 pairs of shoes playing. I am pretty sure there is an evil elf cobbler that lives with all the creepy crawlies at my apartment because that brings my total of ruined shoes to 5 or 6. Big shout out to my cousin Cuyler for sending me one of his old pairs to keep playing in, also when the hell did you get bigger feet than me??

This past week has been probably one of my favorites so far in my service. I was able to be at school every day during the week doing work for both NaDMA and the actual school. If you recall, at NaDMA I am currently working on a project that will be a training program for 5th and 6th graders on disaster preparedness, responsibility, respect, health and hygiene, yadda yadda. Earlier this month I was playing the waiting game at NaDMA. I had to get these forms from my counterpart to take to the school, a questionnaire and consent form for my program. Well, I finally received the papers and I was able to knock out all the questionnaires this week at school while also assisting my counterpart there. School was so much fun this week, the kids were really excited that I was able to be there every day. I've started going every morning to monitor my Road Safety program, but it was nice to stay the entire day. The students are OBSESSED with being Safety Patrols. It makes me so happy to see them passionate not only about my project but also about taking responsibility. I have to show up to school earlier and earlier each day (between 7:30-8) to hand out the vests to the students that come to school first. My friendships with the other teachers definitely took a good boost in the past month and I love spending time with them and joking around. In classes, the students continue to improve slowly, but surely. You can see the lights go on in their heads every now and then, and their attitudes are definitely improving. Outside of class, I'm always surrounded by the students. Most of them want to practice drawing with me, I think I've got them hooked. Especially my new best friend Rayanna. She is in grade two and follows me around like a puppy asking for my notebook and pen to draw with. But don't be fooled by her cuteness, she has hella attitude.

Okay so that was a brief update on life, very brief. If you're wondering, that disaster preparedness program I am doing probably won't start till next school term because there is only 2.5 weeks left of this term and I need 3 to conduct it.

Tis the season. I'm not really sure what season it is anymore. Grenada celebrates a Thanksgiving Day on October 25 in remembrance of the intervention in 1983 that helped restore peace to the island. So it seems like we just had a Thanksgiving day, unfortunately there was no turkey that day. Just a couple weeks ago we celebrated Guy Fawkes Day and Veterans Day. Holidays everywhere, people! However, us volunteers didn't celebrate Thanksgiving last night because most of us were too busy--we only get the day off for Grenadian holidays. We decided we would celebrate tonight with a good ole American pot luck dinner, and yes there will be a turkey. I was glad to be able to have the chance to talk to some family before they enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner yesterday. Everyday is thanksgiving. Today is of course Black Friday and we had a family "tradition" for that as well. Instead of rushing to the mall to buy crap we don't need with money we don't have, we went to the mall to eat lunch and watch people act like idiots everywhere. Highly entertaining. On top of that, the supermarkets and buses have been playing Christmas music since the beginning of October and we've also been singing carols in morning assembly at school. Next week I will accompany the teachers at my school attachment in a singing festival. When we practice our songs during break sometimes the teachers will say "Mr. Taylor we can't here you?" (everything is a question here), to which I respond "Look y'all, I told you upfront I am a terrible singer. I am here merely for my good looks and to add diversity to the group." The laughs that ensue usually buy me another day of pretending to sing. The moral of this story is that I've been a victim of holiday overload. I don't know what and when I am celebrating, why I am celebrating etc... Tis the season. What season? Hurricane and rainy season? A 3 month Christmas season? 3 separate Thanksgivings? The season we've all been broke (we're all hoping to get paid today)? All I know is I've had an awesome last few weeks and there is no sign of that changing.

Thanksgiving. Normally, I hate when people do the whole "today I'm thankful for ..." routine. Don't get me wrong, it is important to show thanks and gratitude and I'm not saying people don't do that year round. I just think that sometimes people look at Thanksgiving as a reminder, like "oh yea, I need to be thankful today", when in reality I wish that was a year round concept. Sure, for some people it is, but for others they go ape shit the next day on Black Friday and continue to gripe and bicker until the new year. I was telling Katie the other night that if I had a super power I wish I could walk up to everyone and just bitch slap them and tell them to stop fighting and let things go, to be grateful, to love. A pipe dream. C'est la vie. But I'm no better than anyone else, and I'm not trying to say all this like I am, I'm not going to not tell you what I am thankful for! I just have a dream of a future where people put their differences aside and embrace each other in brotherhood/sisterhood.

This year, I am thankful for life. My life, your life, the lives of thousands of people all over the world that make this earth such a beautiful and diverse place. I'm thankful that most of us have opportunities and choices to make everyday. We can choose to spend time with each other, to spend time in a foreign place, time with strangers, or to spend time alone embracing the beauty of the wild. And I'm thankful that that is okay, that it isn't strange or weird for people to venture into the unknown and feel welcomed. I'm thankful that modern technology has made that possible. There is no part of the world that people cannot travel to or experience without modern technology, that is truly something amazing and leads to so many opportunities. But most importantly, I am thankful for support. The way my family supports me in my adventures. The way they support each other. I can't wait to see my family rally around my older brother and Rebecca when they have their first child. That reminds me, I still need to buy an Arsenal onesie. I'm thankful for the support my friends give to me and to each other. Yea I might be 2000 miles away, small thing, but I can still keep up with everyone at home and watch y'all support and love each other from the sidelines. It's beautiful. Don't for a second the bonds of friendship for granted. We could have ended up anywhere, and we ended up together and I'm thankful for that. Lastly, I'm thankful for where I came from and where I've yet to go. Everything and everyone I've encountered has shaped me into the man I am today and given me a great life, and experience of a lifetime. Even all the bad times, the heartbreaks, the losses, the horrible mistakes, they have helped me to be who I am. Do you ever think about going back in time for a second chance? I don't know what I would do were I given that option. I've got a great thing going here because of all I've been through and I'm thankful for that. And I'm thankful for the promise of the future. There will be a tomorrow. There will be food to eat, shelter to live and sleep in, money to earn, people and places to meet. Life is good, people, open your eyes and take a look around. There is something to be thankful for each and everyday, don't forget that. Oh, I almost forgot, I am also thankful that the haircut I gave myself last week turned out okay.

Here's a nice little diddy that we rock out to in the mornings at school;

"Give love on Christmas Day

No greater gift is there than love.

What the world needs is love

Yes, the world needs more love."

Picture time:

My Safety Patrol kids, making the roads safe.

Morning prayers and songs. It's impossible to get a good picture inside the school because of all the windows.

Ms. Phillip the best principal this side of the Grand Etang (our rainforest)

Each day is a gift, each day we are a day older.One love,

Brice

[10:24:43 AM] Amanda Dombach: this thanksgiving i am thankful for my schoolchildren

[10:24:52 AM] Amanda Dombach: one just brought me a snow ice

[10:24:53 AM] Amanda Dombach:

A couple months ago we started a new term of the Early Childhood Intervention Program (ECIP), which a few Peace Corps Volunteers serve at monthly. The program was started by some concerned significant others of St. George's University faculty, one of which was a previous serving Peace Corps Volunteer. They identified a need for a support program for Grenadian children with special needs who haven't yet reached school age. Children with a wide variety of special needs, from down syndrome to autism and all in between.

From 9-11:30am on the third Saturday of the month, we gather at a daycare in Grand Anse and conduct a one-on-one play therapy session with these children. What is so incredible is not only the small steps of progress we see in the children, but the smiles we see on the faces of their parents, who get just a couple hours to themselves while their children are tended to in a healthy environment. For some parents, this is the only break they receive for the month, and we all know working with special needs is a full time job times some.

For the two or so hours we work with these children, we focus on the basic skills needed for children to function successfully, things like fine motor skills, language skills, and gross motor skills. Each child is paired with a volunteer who knows the abilities of the child and the milestones we are trying to reach. Its amazing how much effort, discipline and patience it takes for not only the children to stay focused, but also the volunteers. Small successes is what keeps up coming back every month, and these children truly are incredible.

Katie and Steph working on simple directives with Jumorie and Jayden

Steph working on balance with Jayden

Katie and Jumorie working on balance. See him making eye contact? That's a form of communication for nonverbal children.

Kaleb, who stole my heart. This poor child is young for the program, but its necessary he is there because we are told he sits in a crib all day long at his current day care.

Lendell working on simple directive during snack time.

Leslie-Ann is a sweetheart. I told her to smile, this is what I got...

Christine and Alexei working on fine motor skills during painting.

Errin's music room is one of the childrens favorite.

I apologize for the influx of blog postings today, but I found some time and realized I had a lot to update my followers on, so here it goes!

First, the organization I work for, Grenada National Organization of Women, as well as many other island NGO's came together back in September and organized the World AIDS Day Committee. This is the second year for the committee and we learned valuable lessons from the dysfunction of last year, helping to make this years committee much more proactive and committed.

The WAD committee organized a series of events for the 16 Days of Activism to protest violence against women (Nov.25-Dec.10), as well as events on World AIDS Day (Dec.1st). We have been extremely busy organizing over 7 events for the month and I think we are doing a great job executing so far. Our first event was last week, the first ever Freeze Flash Mob to hit Grenada and man was it a hit!

Check out the video for yourself:

We organized local affiliates and community members to meet at the Esplanade mall on a Friday afternoon at 5pm. Outside the mall is a hot spot for secondary students and college aged kids to mingle and relax on a Friday afternoon, so the crowd was definitely present, and them BAM! people started freezing, and stood there for 7 minutes total. Each person represented a myth related to HIV, whether it was you cant get HIV from mosquitoes, to using protection and even a first aid demonstration. Overall it went phenomenal and I was extremely pleased.

We have two more flash mobs planned for the month, both of which will be dancing flash mobs and I'm excited to see people pull these off as well. Good things happening in Grenada folks!

Before I get into "saving lives" it's time for a culture lesson.

Remember, remember, the 5th of November. Anyone who has seen V For Vendetta has a general understanding of Guy Fawkes Day. Anyone who hasn't seen that movie should stop reading this post and go watch the movie. Seriously, it's a cool movie that has been made even more famous from the recent Occupy Wherever The Hell You Live movements. In case you spent more time paying attention to Natalie Portman and the stellar action scenes in V For Vendetta, I will explain Guy Fawkes Day in simple terms. On November 5, 1605, the Gunpowder Plot attempted to blow up the House of Lords because the Catholics didn't like the Protestant King James I. Guy Fawkes happened to get busted even though he wasn't the mastermind behind the project, he was just good with explosives. Anyways, he was arrested and tortured some for his crime and the people of England celebrate the 5th of November as a Thanksgiving Day because the attempt on the King's life failed. The day is also referred to as Bonfire day because the King allowed people to make bonfires all over in celebration. Sometimes, people burn effigies of Guy Fawkes.

Why am I going on about some Brit holiday? If you recall, Grenada is a Commonwealth Nation and as such we share a lot of holidays with the Queen, whom we also have tattoos of on our arses. Unfortunately, most of Grenada doesn't observe Guy Fawkes day. Luckily, there are two communities that do, one is mine and we do it big. Throughout the week leading up to Guy Fawkes day, the stuffed doll thingy of Guy Fawkes (see picture) sits near the bar on our ridge which is right down the street from me. On Guy Fawkes night, festivities start early in the afternoon because people here look for any excuse to get together and drink. On this particular Saturday I had work all day. We, NaDMA, were doing a Flood Drill in a community near Grenville on the east side of the island. It was a pretty good drill and I always enjoy experiencing new communities, making new friends, and playing with the kids there. It was a long day though, I was picked up at 8:30am and reached home from work at 8pm. Yowza. Next, it was time for a quick shower and drink before heading down the street to the celebration. I could hear all the hoo-ha from my place and it sounded like a grand ol time. Turns out it was even more fun than I had imagined. There had to be about 1000 people there celebrating. When I showed up, the DJ was blaring soca music, everyone was dancing, liming, drinking, and just all around having a good time. I was definitely the only white person there. I know this for a fact because it was night time, and, not to be racist, I stood out very well in this crowd. But that didn't bother me at all, it hardly does anymore unless I go into town. I'm used to being the minority now. Don't get me wrong, being a minority has many drawbacks, but I'm used to it. And it felt fine this particular night. As I walked through the thick crowd of people from my community and the neighboring ones people didn't make "white boy" comments, nor did they ask for money or just be rude in general. They noticed me, but not as something out of place. They might not know my name but they know of me, kind of like the new kid at a school. That sounds bad, but it was quite nice, it was like I walked through the crowd and felt like I belonged. My friends found me easier than I could find them. What? It was night time and poorly lit, I could hardly tell who was who, but they knew it was me because I was this one white guy in a sea of Grenadians. I was able to lime with some of the fellas on my football team, chat with my kids, and talk nonsense with my neighbors. The music was awesome, as it always is here, and after a little while a truck pulled up with a steel pan band on the back to get the people going. People were dancing everywhere and having a great time. Some guy took the Guy Fawkes effigy off the stand and put it on some weird contraption so he could wear the doll on his shoulders and dance with him. They then took Guy Fawkes on a little parade up and down the street, not many people followed because that would mean leaving the drinks and music, and when Guy Fawkes came back they lit that sucker up! After watching him burn like I do at the beach after 15 minutes, it was time for me to head home. I wasn't interested in the after party or staying out to drink with friends. That doesn't really create a good image for my work and the Peace Corps, plus it was now 11:30pm, waaaaay past my old man bed time.

So, there is a little culture for you, I think... But my challenge to you is to take some time this year and observe another culture/religions holiday. It is really eye opening and a cool experience. There should be plenty of opportunities for this in the melting-pot that is the United States of America. Here are pictures of the celebration:

Guy Fawkes EffigyLotssss of peopleTaking Guy Fawkes for a stroll.Making him dance.Steel Pan getting the people going.

Another look at Guy FawkesGet de riddim

Whenever there is music on a truck, people dance behind it and help push it.My camera is a p.o.s. but sometimes it takes cool photos.The drummer might have been Animal from The Muppets.Burn baby, burn.Now, How to Save a Life:

Yet again I would like to apologize for a delayed blog update. As I told my big brother and his wife the other day, I sometimes feel like I have to out-do my last post or wait for something interesting to happen here. In actuality, interesting stuff happens all the time and my first thought isn't "OHH I'VE GOT TO TELL PEOPLE ABOUT THIS", usually it's more "oh that was strange/cool/funny". If I was good at keeping a journal then you might have more to read. But honestly, I could write a lot about anything, in just a minute I'm going to write about one week even though my last post was about a month ago, oops. And look at this, I haven't even approached the title of this post yet and I've already made y'all spend 15 minutes reading. I guess what I'm saying is I always feel like I don't have any juicy material for you to read, but then I write a novel about one small instance. Silly me. Without further ado, allow me to whet your appetite,

This past week EC 83 had another IST session. Hopefully you've caught on to our many abbreviations by now, if not then get with the program. Speaking of programs, that was the purpose of our latest training session. November 8-10 we all gathered in town to go over Project Design and Management. We all showed up with ideas for projects or programs we are either working on or wish to implement. If you are one of my avid readers (I sure hope so) then you might recall the program I am working on with NaDMA which is still in a holding pattern at the moment. BUT, in order to design that project I consulted the many many pages of literature the Peace Corps dumped on us during PST. I found what I was looking for and was able to work together with my counterparts on a good project idea which hopefully will come to fruition before the end of this school term. Hopefully. So, during our Project Design Management session (PDM) I had a solid grasp on the material already and I was able to use the time to plan a new project I hope to implement. It was really great to talk things through with the other volunteers, hear their ideas for projects and all. We like to bicker about our training sessions being really drawn out and condescending, but I think they are important for all of us to pool resources and bounce ideas off each other. They are also rather inspiring gatherings. It is so easy to lose focus here or feel like wasted potential, then we meet up and realize our struggling is universal though we all have these ideas of grandeur for the island. It's nice when the gang is all together, especially when you haven't seen some of them in a month or two--yes, even though it is a small island you can easily go that long without seeing each other.

My project idea? the inspiration might have been born out of the mentality here or my dad's career profile, but I am hoping to implement a mentoring program at my school. Why? What do you mean "why?", you don't think children deserve positive role models? You heartless bitch... Kidding, "why?" is a good question. My answer is that the youth in Grenada (hopefully just my school) lack a positive role model or mentor figure. It is incredibly depressing and frustrating when students show no respect, responsibility, dreams of their future, the list goes on. To combat this epidemic I am hoping to institute a mentoring program where I along with other teachers will partner positive community members with one or two students. Over the course of at least two months we will meet in the afternoon at the school to have discussions on topics like respect and responsibility, self-confidence and the understanding that the students can be whatever they want in life as long as they apply themselves and work hard. I don't want to shove the material down their throats, instead I hope that through spending time and observing their mentors the kids will learn about the positive qualities in adults. I don't know, it's just an idea at this point, just a piece of paper. The project has a long way to go before it actually gets implemented. I haven't even discussed it with my principal and teacher counterparts yet. I have to see if they think it is a good idea. I won't let them say no. This is something I'm passionate about here, I don't know what I will do if I ask another kid what they want to be when they grow up and they say "I don't know, nothing".

Side note, A lot of people have been saying that I should pursue something along the lines of working with children when I finish the Peace Corps. I probably won't. Leonardo Da Vinci was good at painting, but that's not all he did. And yes, I did just compare myself to Da Vinci. Truth is, I have been thinking about the next chapter a lot lately. Believe it or not, it was just about a year ago that I had my phone interview with the APCD in Grenada. In two months, the next batch of volunteers will come to Grenada. In 5, EC 81 will leave us, sadly. I'm not entirely sure the next step, but it starts with this; Step 1: cycle across the USA, Step 2: Buy a motorcycle, Step 3: this next career I am considering and also keeping a seceret (shhhh).

back to reality, I don't want you to think that Grenada is just full of bums and kids without imagination. Sure, that exists, and Grenada is still considered 3rd world, but there are successful people and brilliant children. This past Friday I had an awesome day at school. I was only going to be there for a few minutes in the morning, but ended staying the whole day and then I got mad when the day was over. I was mad it was the weekend, a rare phenomena. My purpose for going to my school that morning was to pick and instruct the students we are going to use for my Cross Guard program. Remember that program I designed waaaay back in like march? Yea, well the second part of it starts now and I was there to train the students on what to do and show them their super rad safety vests that they will wear. I was afraid these kids would be sour and not interested, but they were totally stoked and can't wait to start! It is a good thing too, because we picked some of the kids that have attitude problems and lack drive, hopefully this boosts their behavior. Then, we spent the day cleaning out the cupboard and we gave the students some old workbooks to go through while some cleaned. They all ran up to me to grade them, I was pretty surprised that they were actually doing the work and were excited about it.What the hell? I was on cloud nine while some of them sat around me crunching out math and language arts problems. One of my kids was doing some pretty heavy subtraction problems, something we have been struggling with the class on for a couple of weeks even though it was way below the level of 6 graders. I was speechless as I sat there, explained one problem to him and then watched as he finally put the pieces together in his mind and crank out the rest of the page in 2 minutes. These were the Good Vibrations Marky Mark talked about. To sit there and watch some of the kids finally understand things and get excited about it? Wow, that will give you chills. This was good timing too, because another reason I was at school that day was to capture an image for our Peace Corps 50th Anniversary Documentary. The idea for the picture was to create a "Message to the youth of Grenada". I created some signs that morning and took the picture with the kids during lunch. Here is my message which applies to the idea behind my next project and the experience I had with some my students that morning:

"Believe In Yourself"That afternoon, my principal and I opened up our boxes from Hands Across the Sea, an organization that operates in the Caribbean working a lot with PCV's to deliver books and materials to create successful libraries. We were pretty excited. I didn't think that we were going to get any at all because I requested spanish work books and sent the request in late. But then my contact called me a few months later to let me know that she was able to get 8 boxes together for our school. Boom goes the dynamite! There were tons of donated books in there from strangers back home, it was awesome and totally a trip down memory lane. After that, my principal asked me to accompany their teacher choir next week when they perform at some event. I told her that was a bad idea because I am god awful at singing, she laughed and said I could just stand there and hum haha. So I am excited for that, another opportunity to rub shoulder with locals and get into the culture. In addition to that, one of my counterparts at the disaster agency invited me to his family Christmas dinner which absolutely floored me. It's good to not feel like a stranger.

Lastly, our final day of IST was done by the Grenada Red Cross Society and we became certified in First Aid and CPR. So, even though I knew the basics to save someone's life, now I have a cool card that says I am allowed and obligated to, super cool.

Well I guess that is enough reading for y'all this post. As always, feel free to send me a letter, call me, skype, email, whatever works. I almost always forget to include stuff in the blog or choose not to, so getting in touch with me that way would provide you with cool stories and laughs and will help keep me sane here. I'm up to about 4 pen pals now, if you want to be one then send a letter!

Remember, show some respect for other cultures and religions by experiencing them. You don't have to do something super cool like join the Peace Corps, you can find something closer to home. Second, don't like the way the youth today behaves? Stop bitching about it and be a positive influence.

ps. Whatever happened to The Fray?

I woke up in the morning feeling like P Diddy, minus the millions of dollars and Nike Air Force Ones. MY alarm was blaring some Spanish music at 6:00am as loud as it's poor little speakers would allow. I had no idea what nonsense this underrated invention was screaming, maybe because I had just woken up from an intense flying dream, but probably because I don't speak Spanish. A couple of months ago I started learning Spanish on Rosetta Stone to keep my mind sharp while also attempting to learn a language spoken by a large percentage of the world. I made it as far as "El niño come" & "la niña bebe. I don't think the song on my radio was waking me up with "the boy eats, the girl drinks", but who knows, maybe that is a hot song in Mexico these days. After I stumbled out of bed and traversed the valley that lays between my bed and desk to turn off the alarm, I did what any normal 18-65 year old human being does. I set a new alarm on my phone for 7:00am. Time to drift back into the world of my imagination--not like the Willy Wonka song though, because that movie scares the shit out of me--instead, I had hopes of sacrificing a morning workout for an extra hour of flying around in dreamland surrounded by beautiful women. But it never works out like that, does it? You rarely wake up in the middle of an incredible dream only to fall back asleep into the same scenario. Neigh, you usually end up in some foreign land with that annoying friend you don't like but don't have the heart to tell them to bug off. This morning was no exception to the rule. I did not return to Narnia when I dozed off again. Rather, I enjoyed another hour of black bliss. No stimulation, yet satisfyingly relaxing. A nice trade from a morning sweat.

After a pep-talk from my coffee, I set off on my journey to my school attachment. There was something light in the air that morning, something happy, something contagious, and dare I say magical. Everybody was out and about, walking and talking, liming, gossiping, going through their morning rituals. With each morning I feel more and more a part of their rituals, more a part of this community. We greet each other with smiles on our faces and more than the typical small talk. Family, jogging, food, religion, these are the topics of conversation in passing. Far from the original chats about weather, tourists and dog shit (there's a lot of it on the road). I felt like Belle from Beauty and the Beast, minus the boobs and awful case of Stockholm Syndrome. Minus the signing too, oh geeed. Don't ask me to sing, you won't like me when I sing. My school was just over the next hill. The echo of the morning bell ringing bounced over the ridge, through the morning sun light, and hit me in the face. Balls, I was late again, a product of my morning coffee and news search routine. The kids greeted me outside as I tried to slip unnoticed into assembly. I hope they are starting to realize why I'm here. Starting to realize that I could be anywhere in the world, but I would rather be at their school because I care about them. The song the children sang this particular morning was not the usual church song, they sang "I am special". You couldn't wipe a smile off my face if you told me Muppets were dumb, that's how happy I was.

This was just one morning, 3 hours, out of the past two and a half weeks that have rocked my world. Peace Corps service is full of ups & downs, highs & lows, periods of constant stress & frustration and moments where everything seems to go right. We know this all too well. Typically, when we all get together it seems to be a time when everyone is in the gutter. Thankfully, we have each other to bitch to. You would hate to be around us during these periods, talk about debbie downers. I am hoping to ride this current wave as long as I can. The past two weeks have been filled with different moments that have either made me proud or reminded me about pride. Sometimes it was my kids at school, my brothers, my parents, friends here and there, and of course the Disney Lion King children's book I read intently at Jacq's place (hence the title of this post). Sure there have been bad moments, times when I've been pissed or stressed, but they have been heavily outweighed by the good things.

The purpose of this post wasn't to go into specific detail about each event that made the past couple of weeks great. That would take entirely too long, even by my standards. So, just know that things are good here, and I am truly happy. If you do want the juicy details, give me a call/skype/letter and I will chew your ear off. Rather, this post will focus on the things that have made me proud recently. Consequently, 25 October is when we celebrate Thanksgiving here. I'll save the proverbial "things I'm thankful for..." post for the US Thanksgiving. These are the things that I have been really proud of the past couple of weeks, helping to encourage my emotional high and motivate me:

I'm proud of my brothers. Every one of them. It would be nice to tell them that to their face, but we're brothers which by nature just don't do that. I'm proud of Cody for his own adventure he is on, for finding his first fulfilling niche, for the tremendous amount of help he is providing to farmers outside Seattle, for finally realizing he doesn't need to follow others to be a man because that is a path you find and follow on your own. I'm proud of Jordan for his endless support of my parents, brothers, and his girlfriend, for his commitment to be a better person physically, mentally and professionally, for realizing he is funny and unique in his own way and does not ever need to imitate someone else. I'm proud of my big brother Porter Case (and his wife Rebecca) for how far he has come since his wedding, it seems like just yesterday I was toasting at the rehearsal (remember my toast? yea, it was the best), for his commitment to God and family, for his commitment to the most heinous team in football, for his inspiring words and encouragement, for his passion to show others how to light up their life, for their decision to bring a baby into this world!

I'm proud of my friends at home, especially the 15 best that anyone could have. I look at pictures of all of us freshman year and we look like idiots. We were idiots. But we came out on top, with each other, determined not to forget the ties of friendship and determined to overcome the ugly job market. Look at us now: marriage, big boy/girl jobs, homes with nice things, and still time for each other. They say college is the best 4 (or 7) years of your life. Sure, we had fun then, but I wouldn't trade anything or anyone for where we are now. I'm proud of how far we've come and how far we've yet to go, together. Without y'all I would be nowhere. I wouldn't be here, that's for sure. I don't know if I told her this, but one of the people that helped me realize my dream for the Peace Corps is Mrs. Boland. Without Erin or Taylor I would be stuck in some dead end job. I miss you all terribly. I expect a better skype session at Laurie Jossey's wedding.

I'm proud of my parents for all the work they've put into raising their 4 children. And now that my brother and I are capable of taking care of ourselves, my parents still putting in the hours. At work, at home, in the community, where do you find the energy? Your story has been one of trial and tribulation, but always ending in triumph. As a famous commentator once said "take a bow son". Honestly, I could write for days about how my parents make me proud, but I'm sure my dad is crying on his keyboard right now so I'll stop. For those of you that didn't check it out, he had a cameo on last week's Extreme Makeover Home Edition. He's basically famous.

I'm proud of all the PCV's in Grenada. We deal with a lot of shit day in and day out, and yet we keep plugging in because we care too much for the people of the world. That says something about who we are, who raised us, and a world we want to live in. We are all doing tremendous work here and we couldn't do it without each other as support.

I'm proud of my students and kids here in Grenada. And they are proud too! I'm proud of their being proud. I can see how much work they have put in since last semester, since I was just a stranger. Some days it may seem like we are taking one step forward and two steps back, but other days these kids surprise me. They love to come up to me and show off their good grades, or the art work they did during class, they might hit a kid one second and the next they exhibit a true understanding of friendship and love. Kids that used to be complacent and disrespectful are now enthusiastic and excited when they understand a math problem or learn a new word. I'm proud that they continue to strive to learn even though some days they struggle to understand a concept. "Do or do not, there is no try," that's what one of the teachers preached to the students during assembly recently. Okay, she didn't quote Master Yoda, but she told them there is no such thing as "I can't" and I see it being acted out daily now. I was especially proud the other day when, after losing a football match, the boys and girls did not fight amongst each other, instead they argued with the ref (me). I'm proud that they want to beat the odds and change the current state of Grenada to a better future.

There is a difference between being prideful and being proud of someone. When you are prideful you cannot see the world for what it truly is, but when you are proud of someone you being to grasp the beauty and complexity of the world around you. So take a minute and reflect on what you are proud of today.

Boom. Pictures.

Bet you didn't think I had your wedding pictures saved on my computer. I do. I frequent them often.

Work it.

St. Joseph's RC Morne Jaloux School FC

One of my star students made me this card.The nice poem on the inside.

Saying No! to smoking.

Reeeeally old picture.

Full disclosure, I hate that song ^

Bear with me, Blogger wanted me to try out a new interface for the blog and through playing around with it I now have it saved like this. It is rather confusing and you can't see the picture in the background. I'll get around to changing it to something better later. Unless you like it this way...

You can thank my dad for the new blog post, I think he is my biggest fan. Sure, it's been awhile since my last post, but nothing that spectacular has happened--or maybe I'm just hiding things from y'all which is highly probable. SO, I thought I would give y'all a little something funny to whet your appetite before something big comes along.

To get the laughs going, here is a list of names/greetings I hear or get called here by the locals:

"White man" -- that's a fair greeting

"Hey buddy" -- no, I don't know you, and I don't want to buy drugs from you

"Hey guy" -- I'm still not your buddy...

"Sir!" -- I could get used to that

"Miss!" -- unfortunate downside to school kids being used to female teachers

"Mista Taylaa!" -- yessem?

Any sort of whistle -- if I'm walking down the road, then I don't want your drugs. If I'm in the supermarket it is my security guard buddy calling me over to catch up.

"Pssssst" -- yea I don't want your drugs either

"Ay boy" -- don't call me that, I'm older than you

"Red man" -- were I part Native American I would take offense to that

"Briceyyy" -- please stop, coach, that's what my mom calls me.

"Buzz" -- only a select group of people are allowed to call me that

"Fiance" -- for the last time, I will not marry you and take you to USA

"Yea! Yea!" -- Holy hell where do you guys find all these drugs to sell??

"Mr. Price" -- as long as you don't call me Bruce, I'll let that one slide.

"Eminem" -- niiiiiice

Those are pretty much the common ones I hear, sometimes they make me laugh and other times (drug related) they annoy me.

A few of y'all have been inquiring about my fake girlfriend Laura and our status. Well, I hate to say it, but we ended things last week. It wasn't her, it was me. My kids were asking about her the other day and I had to break it to them nice and slow.

"Sir, how Laura doin?"

"Oh, her? Yea I don't know"

"Sir, wat you mean?"

"We're not together anymore, we broke up"

"Uh! Sir why?"

"That's what people do, they grow apart sometimes and break up."

"Sir was you sad?"

"A little at first"

"Sir cried! I know he did!"

"What?! No I promise I didn't cry! too much..."

"So sir, you single nah?"

"Yea I guess I am"

"What do you tink of mah sista?"

Annnnd that's why I had a fake girlfriend in the first place, so I wouldn't have to deal with those awkward situations presented at the end of the conversation there. Why are they always awkward? Because they ask me right in front of the sister they are talking about. There is no safe way out of that. I can't say yes and make things weird and encourage further conversations of this type. I also can't say no because that would be rude and the last time I said no was because her sister was 17 and I told her that was illegal. That sister doesn't talk to me anymore... In this case, I switched the subject and asked them if they had finished their homework yet, or complimented the little boy on his coloring of Spiderman. That didn't last long though and my neighbor was back on the subject of relationships. Whatever sparked this next question of hers, I have no idea, nor do I know where she learned the word. She asked me next (singing the tune to a song) if I ever had nookie. If you don't know what that word means then definitely don't go looking it up, but also don't worry because you will waste precious grey matter in your brain. The only person that would ever use that word in a sentence and think it was cool is Fred Durst, and he is about as cool as showering with your dad. So now I've got to delicately work my way through a conversation started by a 14 year old about nookie. After handling the situation with some jokes we move on...To an even funnier conversation. My neighbor, the 14 year old girl I teach who is awesome, then asks me if she can be my girlfriend if I wait for her to get older. We all laughed and I think she was being facetious also, but I wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't. She was going on about how I was perfect and she I thought I was the right guy for her. I asked her if she would still think that in 10 or 15 years when I'm older. She insisted that I would still be the right man. It was all very funny, but you've got to know the people and the lingo here. You should visit.

Other than that, the past couple of weeks have been low-key. Not in the sense that I'm not doing anything. Quite the contrary, I'm busy every day, but it's more of the same old song. I go to my school to help teach on Monday and Tuesday, the rest of the week I'm at NaDMA and in the evenings I have football practice. The only new things to my routine are waking up at 5:30 to go run and workout before watching the sunrise. I was always a workout in the afternoon type of guy, but there is plenty of time in the morning to get things done. There is no need to waste it on extra hours of sleep, plus it feels sooo good. I'll admit, it took about two weeks of hitting the snooze button at 5:30am before I would actually go for a run, but I've got it down now. The other change to my routine is I've started the paleo diet, also known as caveman diet. I don't like the word diet because it implies the need to lose weight (which I definitely don't need to do), and it also implies that it is a temporary thing you are doing. Without going into to much detail, the paleo diet is basically eating like our ancestors did during the paleolithic age, or caveman era. You eat whatever they could get their hands on back then--fish, grass fed beef, chicken, veggies, fruits, nuts, roots--and exclude things like grains, legumes (my beloved peanut butter), dairy products, salt, refined sugar, and processed oils. Basically you don't put any chemical and junk food into your body and eat only super duper delicious high protein meals that leave you feeling awesome. I like it a lot and it has me feeling good, and since I'm not sacrificing anything besides shitty food then there is no worry about giving up on the "diet".

Our football season is coming to and end, but there will still be plenty of games and other tournaments to play in until next season. Hopefully, once it is over I can slack a little bit on practice and get into the other areas of my community and also convince my coach to take me fishing on his boat on the weekends.

To end, this past week/end, Katie's mom and step-dad (Libby and Ned) came to visit Grenada which was super awesome because they are a blast. It was also awesome because they were staying at a nice, reasonably cheap, resort on the north side of the island called Petite Anse owned and operated by some truly awesome people. After a nice day hike we were able to relax and enjoy the ocean and all the snacks/drinks Libby and Ned bought for us. We probably looked like pigs scarfing down all these chicken fingers, but Mackenzie was right in telling them that was the best meal we had in a good while and chicken fingers--who doesn't like chicken fingers?? The resort was right on this little beach cove which was really enjoyable because--with MAYBE the exception of maybe 2 volunteers that live near the water--we never get to enjoy the beautiful water that surrounds our new home. And as Matt put it, "Whenever you go the beach, do you guys immediately act like a child in the water?" Yes, we do and we love it. So here are a few pictures from our hike in Victoria (same hike we did at our summer camp), once I link up with Katie's Step-dad I will upload a few more photos.

Off into our beautiful landscape

So I wanted to get all artsy with this one, but my camera blows. It was a bike in the middle of nowhere with a sign that says no tying of animals.

Everywhere you go is green.

Hey there, Mr Crab. What are you doing so far from home?

Thanks again to Katie's parents for the fun week/end they gave us, especially the food. For those of you at home, please do come visit, and also be on the lookout for some snail mail. I'm in a bit of a letter writing craze. Erin, if you still want to do that culture program with your class (and I'm sure you do because you're jealous of me and Taylor being pen pals) you'll have to send me your new school info so I can reapply.

"Now I see the secret of making the best person: it is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth." ~Walt Whitman

Brice

Update time.

Life is good, it usually is here. But life is even better now that school has started back up and I get to teach again. For some volunteers (the lazy ones), they pretty much had the whole summer off since they work primarily in the schools. Whilst I and the other awesome volunteers still have to work every day of the summer. Yea, I'm going to brag about it, it was hard work. How hard was lounging around in your underwear all break? Not hard. I know because I was tired and called in sick one day just so I could work from home in my underwear. Sorry, had to get that of my chest. Maybe it also has something to do with the crazy day at work I had today, but more on that later.

Things are good on the homefront. Lorice went to Barbados for a few days and the missionary ladies went up north, so I was just hanging out by myself. No biggie, but the internet went out. That's not really a problem, I wasn't crying like some 12 year old addicted to the internet. I do however need it for work and peace corps related stuff, plus my phone was out of credit so I was pretty much flying blind for 3 or 4 days. I can live without facebook or surfing the internet for an indefinite amount of time, but email access is pretty important for us here. So, while the internet was down for the past few days I did A LOT of reading and working out/sitting on my ass. There isn't much else to do, especially on a Sunday when it seems like the entire island is dead. This happens every now and then, the whole internet thing going out and Lorice being out of town so I can't fix it. Typically, I'll just watch a movie on my lap top to pass the time--I feel like time moves incredibly slow here--but this go around I was all out of movies. I have seen all the ones on my computer multiple times already from other instances when the internet was down. I got the internet fixed when the missionaries came back home and the world was right again.

Monday was the first day of school. I was pumped. I had missed the kids too much. My school attachment days, despite how bat shit crazy they tend to be, are a nice breath of fresh air from being at NaDMA 5 days a week. I was glad to see that my school principal and counterpart, Ms. Phillip, was back in action. She fell ill at the end of last term and had to go abroad to get treatment. I had no way of knowing what was wrong or whether she was okay all break, I asked around a lot, but everyone's guess was as good as mine. She said in assembly Monday morning that she was fine and healthy now. She told me that she was diagnosed with adult onset diabeetus (I think there was another problem she mentioned, but diabetes stuck out in my mind). I wasn't all that surprised with the news about the big D. I mean, I have no idea what she eats or when she exercises, but diabetes seems to be an issue on the island. It's no wonder, too. There's tons of sugary goodness running around the island and not enough people exercising. A lot of the kids at school will devour 3 or 4 different unhealthy snacks during break and lunch, EACH DAY. It's like that silly quote floating around these days "Elementary math problems are weird. 'I had 10 chocolate bars and ate 9. What do I have now' Oh, I don't know, DIABETES MAYBE?" Thankfully, the home-ec teacher is having the kids research high blood pressure for their next assignment, a step in the right direction. Right, so this year at school I will be working along side Mr. George, the only male teacher at the school. He's a cool guy. He teaches the 6th grade class which means I will be working with most of the students I had last term in 5th grade, plus a few others who failed last term. I'm basically his muscle, I'm supposed to help him keep class order, grade, and assist whenever I can. I doesn't make sense for me to be his muscle though. I can mean mug these kids all day, but they know my weakness: I don't give them lashes like the other teachers so they try and get away with things. Not on my watch kiddos. I might as well be the goddam Batman, nothing gets past me in that classroom, especially underground crime. They think no one sees them misbehaving, but I see all. Anyways, I'll be at the school on Mondays and Tuesdays, but those days are flexible. I told Mr. George at the end of the day Tuesday that after he gives the students their competency test I will work with the students that are behind in certain subjects. Our goal is to have them all graduate and make it to the secondary school of their choice.

So, my crazy day at work on Wednesday. I show up to NaDMA looking good, dressed to the nines if you will. My boss, Mr. Peters, is about to walk out the door when he sees me and asks if I want to go to the warehouse with him. Since I didn't really have anything to work on in the office I said I would go. He told me to go change into some jeans and our polo shirts. I didn't think much of this request because the warehouse has no AC, it feels like a sauna. While talking with him on the way to the warehouse I ask Mr. Peters what exactly we are doing. He tells me we are just moving a few things around and taking inventory, sounds easy. Well we get to the area the warehouse is located, only we pull off to the opposite side of the street and drive down this overgrown road. After driving through some small trees we pull up to this old looking warehouse with two other NaDMA staff sitting outside. I've not seen this warehouse before, so I ask Mr. Peters what we are really doing. He says that this is an older warehouse NaDMA used to use, but now we are giving it to a different agency so we need to clear it out and move things around. At this point I'm still thinking this isn't going to be too difficult. Then, we open the barn doors and I get my first glimpse. It looked like a crack house. There were piles of junk everywhere, bird and bat shit covering most of it. There was no organization, boxes lay decomposed everywhere with their contents spilling out. The wood pallets that held some organized boxes were rotten. The air was thick and smelt like mold and stale disease. The upper level in the back had collapsed through to the floor below. A box of Johnson's Baby Lotion to-go packs had spilled out onto the floor so you slipped on them wherever you walked. Why someone would need a 6 month supply of baby lotion is beyond me. We worked in the warehouse for 3 hours, moving boxes and random, filthy junk towards the front, attempting to organize it. I thought the other warehouse was hot, but this one was brutal. At the end of the 3 hours I was able to ring sweat out of my polo shirt and my jeans were wet all over. It's no easy feat so sweat through a pair of jeans like that, that's think material. A little heads up next time would be nice. Like, "Oh hey, Mr. Taylor, would you like to come do strenuous labor for the next 3 hours in a hot box with us?" I'll probably still say yes, but I like to be prepared for these things. On the bright side, my boss said "Because of the conditions we are working in we can be done at 1pm and go home", also there were some barrels full of unused syringes and medical equipment that I hope can still be put to use. And lastly, amidst all the bats flying around the warehouse, there was this stoic owl perched up on a beam just watching over us, he was cool. After this beast of a workout we drove into town to get some roti for lunch, then I took a monster nap before heading to football practice (as if my body needed more punishment).

Yayyy so much fun!Oh, no, these mattresses are totally reusable.

Messy

When people ask me to babysit, this is usually what I give the kids to play with

My. Lyons (left) and my boss Mr. Peters (right)

Katie peer pressured me into meeting her and Christine for breakfast at this little restaurant downtown Thursday morning. All of the volunteers had to be in town that morning, even Crystal who lives on Carriacou. Our medical officer, or PCMO, was visiting the island to give us shots and some more training/presentations. So, I woke up early and headed to town to be on time for Katie, who apparently doesn't play by the rules and showed up late. After a delicious meal of tania log and bakes it was shot time. Thanks to my brief adventure in Kenya I had a few more shots in my system to begin the PC with so I usually don't have to get many when the doc visits. This time, I got the new flu shot and my last Rabies shot (series of 3). According to Dr. Jeremy, you only need the Rabies shots once in your life. Fear not friends, if we are ever surrounded by a pack of vicious canines, I will sacrifice myself. In truth, I wish Obama would have just given us the money for the shots instead, apparently it's $400 a pop. We could use that cash, sir. The presentations Dr. Jeremy gave us dealt mainly with sexual assault. We also did this cool little "Talking Circle" thing as a group. It sounds a bit silly, but it was great. All of us volunteers (there are 17 of us now) sat in a circle with Dr. Jeremy and passed around a dirty bird feather Katie found. When the feather came to you, you just talked about how life was in Grenada, things that were frustrating you, whatever you wanted, and no one would interrupt you. The feather went around the circle 3 times so you could talk all you want and get stuff off your chest. It was nice to hear from the older volunteers how they were getting more and more excited to get home (they COS in January). They also explained to some of us volunteers who are frustrated with work about the many peaks and valleys of service they had themselves. Times when they felt useless and times when they were incredibly busy, it's just the way it works here sometimes. Some of us were talking about the gender roles on the island and how frustrating it is when a lot of the Grenadian men feel sexually entitled. During this conversation I explained to the other volunteers how in my community I'm currently juggling a number of fake girl friends, some by choice. To explain, a lot of people in the community or at work will constantly ask questions about my relationship status. Guys want me to just go out and whine up on anything that walks and has boobs, it's more or less a part of the male culture here. Girls just want me to be their wives because they think that I have money and will buy them gifts or take them to America. Remember that time at work when I came back from the wedding in Augusta? Some of the guys mistook my happiness from hanging out with camp kids to mean that I got some action when I went to America for Taylor and Erin's wedding, and I told them they were right just so they wouldn't annoy me for awhile. Well that was the first fake girl friend I had, and one I still feel guilty about. According to my football team, Katie is my wife and Mack is my girlfriend because I was with them at a concert on the fort. I wasn't surprised they thought this, I was surprised that they saw nothing wrong with me having a wife and a girlfriend. At Fish Friday a couple weeks ago, Errin and I pretended to be married so that some guy would stop creeping on her. It was weird when some lady came over to me and said that she could tell Errin was my wife because we were good together. Ha. Then, there is my neighbor who desperately wants to marry me and I think she also wants to jump my bones. It was comical the first time when she told people I was her fiance, now it's unacceptable to hear that because I don't think people realize it isn't true. She could easily ruin my reputation in the community, not that she is a bad person, she is really nice, but you know how rumors work. Lastly, for my kids (both my neighbors and ones I teach) I invented a fake girlfriend. I didn't really put much thought into this girl. One day the kids were asking if I had a girl, I saw the opportunity, and said yes. This way they would stop pestering me about their older sisters. No, kids, I am not interested in your sister, I do not "find her lookin cute", besides she is 17.. So that's how this other fake girl friend started, but its not over yet. A couple weeks later the kids wanted to know her name. Oh god, I couldn't let myself get caught... So I said, "Uhhh how about you try and guess her name". This way I could just pick one of the names they said that I liked. Well they were coming up with really bad and weird names, so I gave them a first letter, L. After a few more rounds of playing this game, my fake girlfriend now goes by the name of Laura. This news kept them quiet for another week or so. Now, they are asking for pictures. I'm screwed. This has already gotten out of hand and I have put off showing them pictures 3 or 4 times already, they might be catching on. I don't feel comfortable showing them a picture of a friend back home and pretending that she is this fictional Laura character. I'm afraid they next time they ask I am going to have to do the unthinkable. I must break up with my fake girl friend...

Peace and Love from Grenada

I think that's enough for y'alls reading pleasure for now. In other news, my spectacular older brother and his wife are expecting a child and I could not be happier. Happy for me because I'm going to be an uncle! Just kidding, I'm ecstatic for them!! Congrats Porter Case and Rebecca! Hopefully, I can do some math and fly out to Cali in time to see this beautiful baby for a few days. I would hate to not get to see him/her until I finish service and then the child is already 2 years old. No thanks.

That's all for now, folks.

Brice

Sorry to keep you waiting, but I had a nice little adventure planned for this past Friday and I wanted to include it in my next blog. But before we get to the stories I'll just give you a little update on how I am faring down here.

Life is wonderful in Grenada, per usual. We haven't really been affected by any of the hurricanes mainly because we are further south from where they usually pass through the Caribbean. However, the hurricane season is far from over (lasts until November-ish) and typically picks up in September. We do get plenty of rain, though, which is a nice compliment to incredibly hot days without AC. I am plenty healthy and I have a lot of food. We all had a small scare this past week because the bank had a mishap in depositing our monthly stipend into our account so everyone was broke. They said the money was supposed to be in by today so hopefully it is payday. Work is going very well, they have been keeping me busy. Currently, I am still working to finish a database for the National Welfare and Voluntary Services Committee. The database is a list of all the disabled, elderly, and vulnerable persons in Grenada, Carriacou and Petit Martinique including their names, location, closest shelter, medical history, contact info, and suggested counselor. It is a good bit of work and requires contacting a number of people to get the information, but it doesn't take me too long to input the information on my computer. Honestly, I could have it done in a couple of hours, but we don't meet again until Thursday so I am taking my time. My boss is going to Barbados tomorrow and when he gets back we are supposed to have a meeting to go over my project proposal and my work plan here. Hopefully, after that meeting I will have some better direction as to my main purpose here. As of right now, my purpose is compiling information for the Welfare Committee and last week I updated / became administrator of the NaDMA Facebook group, yay... That's something I can do anywhere in the world that has internet connection, I'm looking for something more than that. However, I had a nice epiphany a few weeks ago while I was at work. I had a little free time in the morning so I had decided to re-read the Peace Corps' Goals and see how I was doing. Here are the 4 Goals we have to guide our projects, some apply only to certain programs like Goals 2 &3.

Goal 1: Youth will gain more opportunities for success in their personal and professional lives and take a proactive role in addressing community issues.

Goal 2: NGOs, CBOs and local government departments will utilize effective planning, management and implementation practices to strengthen their capacity to serve disadvantaged communities.

Goal 3: Entrepreneurs will gain increased knowledge and skills in basic business and management practices to create or improve small businesses.

Goal 4: Young people and vulnerable groups will reduce their risk of HIV infection by practicing safer sexual behaviors.

I read through the rest of the project plan and objectives for the Peace Corps and stumbled upon some reassurance. One section stated "[...] In addition to these primary assignments all volunteers will be encouraged to engage in or support community HIV/AIDS prevention efforts in their communities as well as disaster preparedness" After reading that line a few times I felt really good about my past 7 months here. I was afraid I wasn't meeting our standards because I wasn't engaged in any life skills or HIV awareness programs. But I was doing disaster preparedness, and it makes more sense to me now. We are here to respond to "the expressed needs of the community". So often I put my Peace Corps or American blinders on and look for where I can give help first and see results quick whether it's teaching someone to read, volunteer, express their needs. All of that is important to teach, but we are here to listen to the needs of the community and the nation and let that guide our work. Illiteracy and poverty are high, we will work to fix that, or other volunteers will, but right now Grenada has an expressed need to be disaster prepared and that's my role.

Luckily, school starts up on September 6th and I will hopefully be helping out there two days a week this year. I'm really excited to get back to the school and see the kids again. I ran into a group of them outside the supermarket a couple weeks back and completely blanked on who they were. It was strange, I knew that I knew the group of kids, but I couldn't remember where from. At first I thought they were from Kenya which made me even more confused as to how they got to my community. Then, they ran up to me yelling "Mr.Tayla! Mr. Tayla!" I immediately remembered their smiling faces. I can't wait to get back to St. Joseph's RC School!

My apartment is still intact, but I cannot get rid of the mold the grows here and there. Especially on my clothes, it is incredibly frustrating. A lot of the time you cannot see the mold on the clothes, but you can smell it when you put it on. I can't stand it. I'm guessing it is from the hot and humid air here, but I've cleaned all the places it seems to be growing, I've washed the mold-smelling clothes plenty of times but a week or so later they smell of it again. I don't know what to do, I don't know if there is anything I can do. Oh well.

Other things I've done since Carnival: We had a full-scale tsunami drill up in Victoria on Aug. 14-15. I was at the National Emergency Operations Center (our office) during the drill so it was pretty boring for me. Apparently, the drill went really well and they had people pretending to be dead or injured and fake debris in the streets, but I didn't get to witness that. I went to Fish Friday in Gouyave with some a couple of volunteers to eat some good food and two soca artists (Terror Kid and Mr. Killah) were performing. Ran some errands in town, most important of which was mailing a letter to Taylor Rigot to start our epic pen-pal journey. Played in a couple of football games, it's getting hard for me when I have to miss practice and then I'm expected to run around all game in the blazing heat. I had to ask to be taken out of the last game because I was getting heat exhaustion which is no good. If you haven't had that before its when you've been exposed to the heat/sun too much and you start to get so overheated that you feel cold and dizzy. If you ignore it then you end up with heat stroke which kills a number of athletes each summer, but I know better. I thumbed through the list of grad schools that have fellowships with the Peace Corps and I made a list of schools/programs I was interested in. I have no idea what I am going to do when I get back, I might not even go to grad school, but it was fun to make a list envision where my life could go for the first two years after I return. Grad schools of note were the University of Alaska, Fairbanks where I could intern with the US Fish and Wildlife Services (awesomer), a handful of universities out west, Kennesaw State which would put me back in Atlanta, and there is a program at USC which would put me near the majority of y'all but the program is on hold right now (lame). Again, I just wrote down the grad schools as ideas, I still have two years here and I also have to take the GRE so don't get your panties in a wad about me going off to Alaska, yet...

This past week was pretty entertaining, we had some of our volunteer friends from St. Vincent come to visit us. We also had our Safety and Security Officer from St. Lucia, who is super cool, in Grenada to do site visits to the EC83 homes to make sure we are all safe and stuff. The first night that the STV volunteers came we had a pot-luck dinner at Katie's place. The food was delicious and our SS officer came to hang out with us. The next day I had to work--most of the volunteers work at schools as their primary sites so they get a lot of downtime during the summer. I got to hang out with the STV volunteers the next night when we went into town for a few drinks and rounds of pool. It was really nice to see them and hear how they are doing, where they are working, how they've adjusted, and the differences/similarities between Grenada and St. Vincent. The STV volunteers took the boat back to their homes on Friday morning while some of us got ready to head into town for a little fun. Jon and Stephanie had planned a catamaran cruise for us to enjoy because they were expecting a friend to visit them during the week--Hurricane Irene ruined those plans--so we enjoyed the day out at sea. The cruise took us up the western side of the island for about 45 minutes to a snorkel site at Flamingo Bay which is a protected coral reef. After the guide took us around in the water for about an hour we played in the water near the boat, jumping off and goofing around on the water trampoline (not as fun as it sounds). Next, we sailed back down around the corner to another diver site called the Underwater Sculpture Park. It is exactly as it sounds and it's the only one in the world, I think our guide said they are building one at Cancun right now. There are about 40 or so different sculptures and statues scattered about the bottom of the sea in this little bay. Some of them are close enough to dive down to by just holding your breath--maybe 20-30 ft or so--and some you need scuba gear to get a better look at. The statues were really cool and I wish we had more time to explore them because we only got to see a handful of them. Some of the statues we did see were: mermaids, naked ladies, a guy with a typewriter at a desk, a guy on a bike, and my favorite the circle of people holding hands. Hopefully I can get scuba certified sometime in my two years here (it is really expensive) and visit that site again as well as the others that Grenada has to offer. After we sailed back into port we all went into town to grab dinner together. Then, because we are all broke, we went home...

Here are a few pictures of the past couple weeks:

Quite the life, eh?

The trampoline

Panorama from the boat, some of the western side of Grenada.

Tsunami Drill HQ

Sunset football game outside the National Stadium

Because pictures have 1,000 words... Or some poetic junk like that. (These pictures belong to other volunteers, fyi)

Hannah and I before Soca Monarch, apparently we look like siblings?

Getting excited and wild for the Soca Monarch Finals

She loves me..

Errin and I at White in the Moonlight

No idea Getting a little tired now that the sun was up.

Sun up at White in the Moonlight, Grenada flag highlighted. Love dis pic.

The guys are exhausted after 7 hours of music and dancing. Getting painted up at J'ouvert

Just Jab all over. I believe I was giving a pep talk to those getting tired. Sun is up now.

"Our" Steph (from EC83 not 81) and I, not sure what color we are anymore. Fancy Mas

Fancy Mas There were plenty of other Carnival pictures, but you don't need to see those...

Brice

Imagine, for a moment, that you are at a party with your friends. Okay, now imagine that there are also 50,000 other people at this party. Obviously, your house isn't going to be big enough, there aren't enough secret rooms and pantry-hallways to hold everyone (Graysen Pack).. So where do you have this ginormous party? The streets, duh. Continue to imagine the scale of this party, this isn't like some sorority party where you show up late, dance to a few songs, and then leave early to take the party somewhere else. No sir, this particular party is five days long. Five days that an entire nation has been waiting 360 days for. The excitement in the air building up to this weekend, it's electric, it's almost like they pumped cocaine into the air on the island, not that I would know what cocaine is like. But the excitement doesn't just stop once the party begins, it accelerates with each new day. Blame it on the alcohol, blame it on the loud speakers every 40 yards for miles, blame it on the moonlight, blame it on the upbeat music of the Caribbean, but you are about to have the time of your life, your body won't enough know what hit it. This is Carnival. And, unfortunately, you won't ever be able to grasp the enormity of this celebration unless you experience it for yourself (so book a plane ticket now!).

Allow me to start from the beginning. Last Friday was the first night of Carnival. So, to prepare, Katie and I ventured into town during the day to grab lunch and pick up whatever we needed for the weekend. I stopped by the hospital to see my little neighbor because the night before I was told she was put in the hospital due to her Sickle Cell. She was super bored, I don't blame her. There was no one in the beds next to her, in hindsight that's probably a good thing, but she was lonely, and hot. The hospital doesn't use AC so the place was sweltering. I was dripping just standing there. I kept her company as best I could as she isn't that talkative and she was still in a bit of pain. I promised I would bring a cheese and sausage pizza, her favorite food, when she got out of the hospital--Great time to be broke too.... That night, before the big Soca Monarch Finals at the stadium, we were at the National Museum for Jazz Night. Usually, Sean will play a song with the band and some volunteers will recite some poetry if they feel inclined. The music and poetry is always stellar. Right, then we got ready to go to the concert. The tickets said that the show started at 8, yea right, that means the shindig will start around 12. The night was a lot of fun, there were tons of people at the stadium, the music was great, things were going good. Emphasis on "were". This may be our fault, but 3 or 4 of the volunteers had their pockets picked, losing their wallets and purses. I say that it is partially our fault because we were down on the main floor, close to the stage where it gets pretty wild, definitely not a place for white people. The concert went until roughly 5am, no one really knew who won, if they did hear the name they had no idea who it was. Minus the missing wallets, the concert was a blast and ended in time for the sunrise--a common theme this weekend--so we chalked the day up as a win.

All day Saturday everyone was either recovering from the long night before or they were preparing for the long night ahead. I slept most of the day before grabbing my bag and my white clothes to head to Matt's in Grenville. That night we were headed to the White in the Moonlight concert. The concert is exactly what it sounds like, everyone dresses in all white and it is a night concert. We had an absolute blast at this concert. In part, this was due to the stellar line up featuring our favorite group Kes the Band (a group that won the Soca Monarch Groovy in Trinidad earlier this year). Our excitement was also due to the Carnival energy that was in the air all weekend, you could almost taste it, it tasted different then the constant smell of weed at the concerts. Kes the Band was phenomenal and after they did some of their own songs they "went around the world" and played music from all over, including some American pop hits. We all danced the night away, this time in the stands so we wouldn't have our things stolen. The concert was slated to start at 8, but most people didn't show up till 12-1am and the bands didn't even start performing till 3-4am. Before we knew it, the sun was coming up which created an even more fun atmosphere. It was a funny thing seeing the sun come up and the night concert evolve into a day concert. People looked so confused as they scanned the crowd for the first time seeing the people they had been dancing and jumping along with for the past 5 hours. Those in the crowd that were high as a kite were especially confused, wondering where this bright light came from. It was quite amusing. By 7am me and the guys decided to head out and find out ride. We waited by the guy's car for about an hour before he finally showed up. Once we hopped in the guy apologized and said he was really drunk. Oh god, this should be an interesting ride... In all honesty, I think the guy was exaggerating or lying to make us think he was cool, he was younger than us so maybe he wanted to prove himself? Whatever the case, he drove absolutely fine and he was capable of speaking perfectly fine with long coherent sentences, not drunk, probably just tired like the rest of us. Caleb, Casey and I opted out of getting some sleep at Matt's place to head to downtown Grenville to find a ride to St. Georges. I had been standing.dancing the entire 7 hour concert because I was afraid that if I sat down even for a second it would be game over and I would be out like Sleeping Beauty. I also decided that heading home was a good idea rather than sleeping at Matt's because I was going to have to get back to town anyways that day to get ready for the next part of Carnival and I wanted to get that travel time (about an hour drive through the country) out of the way first. The three of us posted up in Grenville by the bus stop hoping for one to come around the corner. It was a Sunday after all, and if you've been keeping up with the blog you know that buses don't run on Sundays. You can usually catch one bus out of Grenville in the morning going to town and one in the afternoon, but that's about it. We were hoping the morning one would come soon, but then our favorite taxi driver Godzilla drove by. We flagged him down and hopped in, not surprised to see the rest of the volunteers already in there--they had stayed at the concert a little bit longer. They were quite the site. All of them looked like death, no offense to them, but they were passed out in whatever position they could cram themselves into on this packed bus. Whenever the bus would swerve or bump they would wake up from their daze and be utterly confused about where we were. I, on the other hand, was still fully awake and energized. I talked a little bit with the local sitting in the back, he though I was CIA because I was wearing a shirt on my head and aviator sunglasses. A lot of locals think that the Peace Corps is just a front for the CIA. I suppose that would be pretty effective, but, alas, we are mere citizens. I had Godzilla drop me off by the supermarket near my place so I could buy materials to cook a nice big breakfast and a sweet tea. I was still bright eyed and bushy tailed till 11am when I finally decided I should start sleeping to prepare for the next event.

J'ouvert morning. What can I say about J'ouvert morning? It is probably the wildest and most fun street party I have ever been to and hands down the most fun I've had since being stationed here. This is the event where people cover themselves in motor oil and all sorts of paint, the event where the Jab Jab come out (the ones I pictured last post). To give y'all a better description of the event, allow me to tell you what happened. J'ouvert traditionally starts around 3 in the morning, the name means daybreak in French. I left my place around 2:30am to head towards the starting point which was Lagoon Road in Port Louis (where rich people keep their yachts, like Oprah), there was an eerie feeling in the air as I walked down my hill. It was a mix of the electricity in the air and the terror of the Jab Jab. I arrived a tad bit early and hung out by myself for about an hour before the rest of the volunteers arrived. it was closer to 4am at this point and it was time to have a few drinks and find a band to play in. When we say "play in a band" or "jump up" it isn't as literal as it sounds. Okay, so bands are these big trucks filled with speakers that just blare music and everyone follows behind them and dances. So when you "play in a band" you are just following and dancing behind a particular truck. For J'ouvert, these bands are separated by paint color, also by village they come from but that doesn't matter. All of us found a band to play in, it was probably just the closest one, but I think they had blue paint. I ran around for the first 30 minutes looking for as much paint as I could find to cover myself. John and Stephanie (a married PCV couple) had bought a cup full of green paint for us to share, but that wasn't enough to satisfy us. For the next 7 hours we proceeded to "jump up" which means you participated in Carnival or J'ouvert and you danced your ass off. The band trucks drove slowly towards the end of the Carenage which is maybe one mile, 1.5 miles from the start. Yet, this road trip took soooo long. We once again saw the sun rise. Hell, we were barely 100 yards from the starting spot when we saw the sun rise, that's how slow the march moved. That didn't matter to us, we were having a ball of a time dancing, singing and laughing. I can't tell you what order it happened in, but over the course of the event I went from being covered in white paint, to blue, green, blue, red, purple, orange mud, and finally black motor oil. Great pore cleanser... I saw a few of the fellas on my football team towards the end of J'ouvert, they are still laughing at me for having a good time at Carnival. I grabbed some street chicken and headed back up to my place around 10:30 am to shower, clean my clothes (lost cause), have Lorice laugh at me and take pictures, and sleep before the night's festivities. I snagged a 4 hour nap before waking up to get ready for the next Carnival event. I called Katie to see what the rest of the group was doing, they had hardly slept at all. Some of my adrenaline wore off an hour later and I took another nap before waking up at 6:30pm. I quickly ate dinner, threw on our costumes and headed out the door for Monday Night Mas. This event is very similar to J'ouvert with the exception of paint and motor oil. Everyone still plays in a band, but they are bigger and sponsored by corporate organizations like Lime and Digicel (US equivalent of AT&T and Verizon). Every band has a costume that all the people that paid to play wear. We played in the Lime band and our costumes were pirate outfits, they were pretty rad. Also, since the event is at night (started around 8 or 9pm) each band has light-up stuff as part of their costumes. Ours were flashing light sabres, I guess we were futuristic pirates. Thousands of people played in each band so it was really really cool to see all these flashing lights moving and dancing in unison. The route for our road trip was much longer than J'ouvert. This time, we were starting at Grand Anse and headed to the end of the Carenage, about 4 miles giver or take. Luckily, the trucks moved a lot faster than the ones did during J'ouvert, but still, this was a loooong trip, and we were supposed to be dancing the whole time. When we all first showed up before Monday Night Mas started we were all exhausted, rightly so. Somehow we pulled ourselves together and brought our A-game for the next 3 hours. Apparently the event was being judged? I had no idea until we pulled up to the first "judge stand" about 30 minutes in. We did some silly little coordination with our light sabres, I have no idea what the judges were looking for and who won or if it meant anything at all. It seemed like our theme song for the night was a song called So We Dey--"So we are there" for you English folk--we must have sang and danced to it at least 20 times. Soon after we finally reached town I decided to call it a night and head home, my body couldn't take anymore abuse.

Tuesday was the final day of Carnival. Typically, on this day Fancy Mas is played. This event is portrayed with participants wearing extravagant outfits and performing synchronized dances through the street. We didn't play in this event as it takes money for crazy costumes and a coordinated dance routine that can be repeated for hours. Instead, I stayed at home and allowed my body to return to normalcy while I sat on my veranda and listened to the music and commotion coming from town. Our bodies were absolutely beat. We had danced for hours on end and watch the sun come up 3 nights in a row. We were confused. We were sleeping during the day and we were wide awake and active throughout the night and into the morning. I joked that if Carnival were any longer we would become nocturnal, that is if our livers didn't fail first.

I have a bad habit of writing these blogs as drafts and then forgetting to publish or finish writing them until a week later. Because of this, some exciting and descriptive details have escaped me. For that I apologize, but make sure you click the links I posted to have some more understanding of Carnival. Better yet, come to Carnival next year and have the time of your life!

Picture post of Carnival to follow this one!

Brice

I woke up the morning after Jab Jab Fest exhausted, per usual. You don't dance the night away and wake up ready to do it again. I was so worn out that my calf cramped up in the middle of the night causing me to fall out of bed and roll around in pain until I could stretch it out, ouchies. The day was going to be a pretty lazy, I knew this when I woke up, but then Katie called. My internet had been out for awhile because my host mother was out of country and the bill needed to be paid. Katie knew this, so she gave me a call to let me know that there was a hurricane coming our way, rut roh raggy. I didn't do anything else that day then run to the supermarket to stock the fridge in case of hurricane and I watched the movie The Constant Gardner. Really good movie that takes place in Kenya, go watch it.

I screened a call from the PC the morning of July 31. It was 7am after all and I wanted to sleep more. There was a knock on the door a couple minutes after the phone stopped ringing so I popped out of bed and threw some clothes on expecting to see Eugene outside my place. No, it was just my kids, there to wake me up at 7am... I value my sleep greatly, so it took a lot of self control not to yell at them, I also didn't have the energy. I told them to come back later and I tried to go back to bed. Literally 10 minutes later there is movement outside my apartment. Are you kidding me... I stormed outside and kindly asked them to please come back in an hour or so because I need to eat breakfast and work on my own. In their defense, they were out there cleaning my veranda because the puppies pissed and shat all over it and there were flies everywhere. Zookie also informed me that there was a bad smell coming from the hole under our building and he thought one of the puppies died. Great way to start the day, no? After I ate breakfast and finished waking up, it was time to deal with the puppy situation. Sure enough, one of the puppies had died under our building in this opening where all 8 of them had been hiding out. The thing was decomposing already, good lord the smell was awful. We had to grab the 7 live ones out and toss them around the corner while I Macgyvered the dead one out. I almost ralphed all over the place, it was terrible. The only way to get rid of the sucker was to burn it like it was some viking hero. That sounds terrible, but it is necessary or else the smell of death spreads everywhere and maggots crawl all over the place and then other dogs try to eat it. So, I struggled to get a fire going in the mid day heat and after going back out in the afternoon I successfully had a blaze burning.

As if the puppy fiasco wasn't stressful and depressing enough, we all received a text in the afternoon informing us that we were in our "Standfast" phase of our Emergency Action Plan. There are 5 phases, Alert, Standfast, Consolidation, Evacuation, and All Clear. Standfast just means to remain at your site, continue work if possible, but have a bag ready to go in the event that we get a Consolidation alert and have to travel to our safe house. As we were expecting Hurricane Emily to move through the islands in the next 48 hours, I threw together things like my passports, flashlights, medicine, snacks, etc.. There wasn't any bad weather yet, so I went up to the fort for the last night of Soca music until Carnival starts. It might not have been raining, but it was freezing cold up there (relative to Caribbean heat). We get a lot of wind on the top of the hill here, but it was especially frigid that night.

In the morning, I woke up to start some laundry and I had a surprise greeting from Lorice. She is back in Grenada! I wasn't sure when to expect her because Liat is on strike and I didn't know if Hurricane Emily would complicate travel, but she is home. We decided we would catch up later since we were both in our "house" clothes. At noon, I was picked up by NaDMA to go work a booth at Rainbow City in Grenville. Rainbow City is a small festival (used to be big), in Grenville to celebrate Emancipation Day. At big events like these we set up a booth to hand out disaster preparedness information. Usually, we have a good time. However, about 30 minutes after we set up camp we received a call from our boss informing us that River Road had flooded due to rain and we needed to head back to town. We hastily packed up and threw the flashing light on top of the truck and sped off through the rain forest to head to town. River Road is the road that runs by the National Stadium to the sea and it floods quite often during storms, yet the people living there refuse to move. By the time we arrived on scene the flood had subsided into the sea, but the damage was still evident.

There isn't much that NaDMA can do in situations like these other than show our presence to the people. Unfortunately it is up to the Ministry of Works to rebuild and fix damaged communities. Stupes... I don't like sitting on the sidelines when there is help needed. Honestly, we could have stayed in Grenville at Rainbow City to work. We were supposed to be there until 9pm and now I was arriving at home at 4pm having accomplished not much for the day. To make me feel even more useless, when I went to hang my clothes to dry I discovered that the washer machine was broken with all my clothes sitting in a pool of water still. Side note--that was like 3 days ago and the clothes are still sitting in the pool of water, I haven't had time to take them out haha. On the plus side, Lorice had the internet back up and running so I could check emails and watch True Blood, yaayyy.

The next morning, Lorice greeted me at the door--which typically consists of her knocking and me running around the apartment looking for pants to put on--with an electric bill and a request for rent money. Ew, ew, ew, ew. Despite being out of the country for 6 days and Victoria for one week, my electric bill was $4 higher than June's. Rubbish!! First task for the day at NaDMA was to ride with Sean to Grenville to pick up the tables and chairs we left at Rainbow City, because that's my role at the office, right? I'm a PCV doing office work and manual labor, the dream. But, whatevs, I like going for rides around the island and those tables and chairs weren't going to find their own way back. A little background on Sean, our driver, he has been a driver for 10 years or so, and he may be related to Mario Andretti. The guy drives like a bat out of hell, but not in a bad way, he's a pro, but he's crazy. I'm used to it now, especially after having braved the roads in Kenya, but I'm sure you simpletons but poop your pants. To make our drive even more fun, we raced this other truck from NaWaSA (National Water and Sanitation), good fun. It was also on this ride that Sean introduced me to a new pick up line. We passed by a lady on the road and Sean said "Gyal dat thing sit down nice!" In reference to her humpty rumpty, of course. This reminded me of a line Mr. Jones mentioned the other day that I found hilarious. He said that sometimes when he was talking with a girl he will start walking in the opposite direction or into a wall and say "Gyal you confusing me wit yo beauty!" Bahahaha. Some background on Grenada, Men hand out lines like these about 100 times a day, it's part of the culture and they mean them as compliments. In fact, I've heard some men say it is rude to not say things like that to good looking women. Sometimes it seems like the women enjoy, other times the throw up the middle finger. It's sad really. New development in the story, Sean just walked into our office and was saying how he has to go with Mr. Peters to a funeral later today, he said that he wants to go get a suit first so he can look good for the ladies there. Oh lawd. What is this, Wedding Crashers?

To end on a philosophical note, I have some lines here that I stumbled upon this week and have helped me look at my work here in a better light. The first is a quote about failure and how important it is to own your failures and adapt.

"Of course it's a failure, but how good a failure is it?" Cornel West

The second is more of a credo that was originally used in a speech about Feminism, but I think it can apply to daily life and how to conduct yourself or be a better person.

"Embrace the paradox. Act in the face of overwhelm. Love people well." Courtney Martin

July 28-29

Spent the day doing a Behavior Change training session in IST. Though it sounds like we were having this session because we were doing something wrong, this wasn't a session to change our behaviors. The session looked at ways to encourage behavior change in our work sites and communities. We focused on developing strategies for developing behavior change in regards to HIV/AIDS awareness. The session went really well and Stephanie did a wonderful job facilitating.

After we ended, I ran to Bryden Minors to pick up some crayons and a birthday card for Samare. The kids came over in the afternoon while I was getting ready for football. We were coloring with the new crayons, listening to music and playing with the puppies when Katie called. She said that Mack and her were coming to the fort tonight for the Soca Monarch Groovy Semi Finals. This was fine with me because I was planning on going myself, but she said they were going to come around 6:30pm. Looks like I was going to miss football practice yet again. The kids came with me to the supermarket so I could pick up some Carib to put in the fridge before my guests arrived. I still wanted to get a workout in so Zookie showed me this huge staircase that ran from the road below my place in front of the prison up to the road I lived on. It's a brutal workout and my new go-to spot. As soon as I was done the girls reached my place and we continued to play with the puppies while having a few beers waiting for the concert to start. The concert was a lot of fun. Since it was the Semi Final, there must have been at least 400 people up at the fort. The night was filled with great music, great food, and great friends.

The next day of IST was a Grant Writing session with Val who did our PACA (Participatory Analysis for Community Action) sessions during PST. I was looking forward to this session along with the rest of EC83 because grant writing is a big part of our work here and none of us had any experience. I realized half-way through the session that writing or applying for a grant is a lot like writing a history paper. GAME OVER. I dominate history papers, I eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The reason the two are similar is because you are trying to prove a point or sway someone's opinion in each situation. That, and the organization is very similar. The session after grant writing was on protocol training. Some of if was similar tips you pick up from etiquette classes stateside, but there were also things that applied to Grenada. Such as, how to address parliamentary and government officials, proper greetings, and vote of thanks at gatherings. Next on the list was to a grab a beer in town with Matt and Casey. When we showed up at the watering hole a few other volunteers were there as well. After exchanging pleasantries and drinks with the rest of the gang, the three of us decided to head over to a different bar so we could play dominoes and pool. We headed home to drop off our stuff from training and change to get ready to go to Jab Jab Fest.

Jab is the French Patois for Devil. The idea is that people dress up like the Devil for Carnival symbolizing the old slave masters. Typically, they cover themselves in motor oil to get black and greasy. Then, they carry around chains, whips, horns and whatever else makes them look devilish. Jab Jab fest is a big concert where artists who sing Jab Jab Soca songs compete. These are Jab Jabs:

On the way done to Casey's I called up my big brother, Porter Case, to wish him a happy 25th birthday, it was good to talk to him and hear that he and Rebecca are doing great. Casey and I headed into town to figure out how we were going to get to the concert and we met up with some of the other volunteers again. We found some of our local friends who said they were going to the concert as well and we could ride with them. I knew it was going to be a wild night because on the bus ride over there the locals in front of my were still pounding beers and smoking weed like it was no big deal. The concert was a blast and there had to be at least 1000 people there. We had a great time with one minor incident. Now, you know me, I like to get my dance on. However, one place this probably isn't a good idea as a white guy is at q crazy concert like jab jab fest, especially up by the stage. It's not because I don't have the moves, trust me, I've got the moves honey. It's because there are crazy people at these concerts and I had a run in with one of them while dancing. It is highly possible that I made a wrong assumption, but I think my instinct was correct in believing this guy was up to no good. I was up by the front, running around and dancing, having a good time, and this guy was doing the same except he was bumping into everyone and when he would bump into me it felt like he was brushing up against my pockets to see what was in there. Now, if it had only happened once I wouldn't have thought twice about it, but he did it at least 10 times. Luckily, I had nothing in my pockets, but I didn't like the cut of this guy's jib so whenever he would come around I would push him off me and yell at him. I went back to find Casey and Sean to let them know to watch out for the guy and I went a little bit closer to dance some more. Well this yahoo came back over and kept up with his routine, which got me real vex. So I shoved him some more and told him off. His drunken ass didn't like that so he pushed me a little bit and tried to slap me? I don't know, he wasn't throwing punches, it was like he was a monkey trying to slap another monkey. But because he was drunk he was moving slow and I just grabbed his arms to stop him and push him away. He was a bit relentless, probably mad that I caught him trying to pick pocket, and he kept trying to "slap" me. Sean and Casey came over to separate us and scare the guy off some more. It was good that they were there because it doesn't look good when a white guy in a crowd of locals is having issues with a black man, and I was getting pretty pissed off. I was smart to not try and escalate things during the little "fight" because I knew if I did anything wrong then I would probably get jumped by all the other locals there. In the end, everything worked out fine and we had a great time, but come 2:00am we decided to head out and find a way home even though there were still artists performing.

The ride home proved to be just as interesting as Jab Jab Fest. There were no buses running back to town and the place the concert was held at was probably a 2 or 3 hour walk to town. We were going to have to hitch a ride, which isn't easy for white guy, even more so at 2:00am. We walked for about 20 minutes and ALMOST got a ride from a truck passing by, he stopped to give a ride to some locals but as soon as we reached the vehicle he drove off. That's cool, I'm sure it wasn't because we are white. Vexed, Casey, Sean and I soldiered on and about 5 minutes later a guy pulled over to take us to town. Victory. Patrick, our driver was a cool guy and works in pharmacy so he was interesting to talk to. Finished the hike home from the PC office after Patrick dropped me off and hit the hay at 3am.

So excited for Carnival.

July 27-29 was our In Service Training (IST), so each morning EC83 filed into town like we had for weeks a couple months ago. We were expecting some staff from HQ in St. Lucia, but Liat is on strike so they weren't able to fly in to Grenada. The topics on the menu for our 3 day training session were: Counterpart Updates and Work Plans, Behavior Change, Grant Writing, and Protocol Training.

The morning of our first session with our counterparts got off to a bad start. Most of the counterparts, mine included did not show up. Pretty disrespectful. Your organization has a free volunteer for 2 years and you can't show up to a 3 hour session that ensures everything is working out properly between the two of you? That's rubbish. We're busting our butts for two years here, put in the effort to get yourself to town to work with us. Now, one of my counterparts eventually showed up, but some of the other volunteers weren't so lucky. I hope those volunteers gave their counterparts the stank eye for the next week.

Anywho, the first part of the session was to go over successes and challenges while working with each other. It was really helpful to hear the counterparts side of the story, especially when they shared their "successes". Often times we get stressed or depressed as volunteers because we feel like we aren't accomplishing anything. Usually this is due to a glorified idea of the Peace Corps; saving children left and right, curing AIDS, rebuilding economies etc.. When, in reality, we are winning smaller battles; caring for a child, teaching someone to read or write, putting a smile on a sad face. So, it was nice to see that we are making a difference even on days when we feel useless.

I was excited for the second half of the counterpart session because it focused on developing a work plan at our sites. YESSS, finally some direction and responsibility!. Psyche. Me and my counterpart could not hash anything out during this session because he had no idea what my head counterpart, our boss, wanted me to do at NaDMA and he said anything we talked about now would have to be checked by him anyways. Pushing for some direction was futile at this point. The only thing we agreed upon was that the project plan I have been working on was way to big for me to do alone, he didn't even know I was working on it. I'm glad my counterparts communicate so much about my work here... After this disappointing day for IST I walked through town to the bank to deposit some birthday money from home. The line was wicked long and there was some German lady talking extremely loud on her phone, GAH! White people don't realize the setbacks they put us volunteers through when they make themselves stand out like that, it usually puts us back at square one when trying to integrate into new places. Seriously, learn about the culture and social norms before you go travel somewhere outside the US, damn. I don't know where they are coming from, but there has been an influx of white people in town. Maybe they are here for Carnival, who cares, what I care about is the fact that they walk around looking like tourists. I sit in the back of a bus and constantly shake my head in disapproval when I see a few of them walking around in shorts, flip flops, bathing suits, giant bags, fancy cameras, the list goes on. Go ahead and do yourself a favor, don't wear shorts outside the US, they really aren't appropriate anywhere else and besides, shorts look way tacky. I digress.

When I reached home after the bank I was ready to get a workout and a run in, but my kids came over. Story of my life. Whenever I want to workout, eat a meal, relax by myself, here they come. They don't understand privacy either. If I tell them I have work to do or I want to eat alone they just say okay and look at me. I swapped my workout to go play 2v2 football with the kids on the fort, so all was not entirely lost. The kids also said I could have one of the new puppies which is awesome.

Moral of this story, show some respect. Whether it's professionally or recreational understand that your actions are affecting other people indirectly.

Because we weren't ready to say goodbye to the kids yet, some of us headed up to Father Mallaghan's in Victoria to spend a few hours with the boys on July 26. I caught a bus to the PC office in the morning to drop off some surveys for IST (In Service Training) which we (EC83) were having the rest of the week. After saying my good mornings to our wonderful PC Staff I caught a next bus to the terminal in town to meet up with Katie and Hannah before catching yet another bus to Victoria. The reason we went to see the boys is because we still had to give them their goodie bags from earning marbles during camp (the goodies were locked up in a closet when we returned from the camp out last week), plus, we wrote thank you cards with them to the people who helped donate time and goods for the camp. We were all having a good time, so good in fact that I may have started a rumor that I liked Katie's mom. Kt asked for it anyways, she wrote a naughty thank you card to my mom as a joke so I had to fight back. Well the kids really enjoyed the rumor about me and Katie's mom and it got a little out of control, they talked about it the whole time and I actually felt bad about it. Oh well, me and Katie's relationship is defined by making fun of each other, she can handle it. After a quick Roti, I hopped on the next bus into town in an attempt to make it back to NaDMA before 1:30. That attempt was foiled when I reached the bus terminal in town right as the #3 was pulling out and the next #3 ready to fill up was the giant bus. Seeing as how I was the first one to get on this bus, I was going to have to wait another 30 minutes at least before it filled up with people and we headed off to Richmond Hill. When I reached NaDMA I was still on a high from camp last week and hanging out with the boys earlier that morning, so I had some pep in my step. My coworkers translated that as "Oh you got a gyal when you was home fo de weddin!" I pretended that was the reason I was happy so that they wouldn't bother me about finding a Grenadian wife/girlfriend/slampiece for at least a week.

Sometimes it's okay to tell a small lie, especially if it helps you integrate. That's what I tell myself at least...

Dreams are already an unusual phenomenon as is, throw in some theoretical hallucinogens and you've got a recipe for one strange night of sleep. As if my dreams needed to be any crazier than usual--they almost always involve me flying, be jealous--I had a dream last night that I did acid. Now, I've never done acid, and I plan on keeping it that way for the rest of my life, BUT I believe the acid trip I had in my dream last night was pretty legit. It was bizarre, I remember licking a bunch of acid off my finger and then floating into a magical, color filled fantasy world only to be transformed into a nightmare a few minutes later as the trip took a turn for the worse. I started to scream hysterically and the dream turned into a nightmare, but I was still on this acid trip, right? Normally, if I am having a wicked scary dream I can convince myself to wake up before I piss the bed out of sheer terror. But this dream was different, I was having a frightening acid trip and instead of waking up in my bed I woke myself out of the acid trip back into the dream world I started in. It was like a dream inside a dream (I wish Leo DiCaprio was present). Logically, after I bounced out of the trip I took another hit of acid so I could go back to the happier side of the drug induced dream. Dream Brice lives on the wild side. In this next acid trip, I called pretty much all my friends in my phone book and left a bunch of strange and embarrassing voice mails. Once that acid trip was over I was tasked with mending the friendships and piecing together what I had done while reenacting Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. A simple task thanks to my experience at Pc.

Well, I didn't come here just to tell y'all about what it is like to take acid (hypothetically), but because I stumbled upon an interesting quote last night. When I have some spare time, or need to pass time while I wait for the newest episode of True Blood to download, I enjoy watching TED Talks. I know, sooo white. Whatever, they are almost always incredibly interesting. The one I watched last night was entitled "Embracing Otherness, Embracing Myself" by Thandie Newton. She had a few interesting points about the idea of the "self", but mostly it sounded like a conversation you have with a friend over a beer trying to find the meaning of life. Anyways, she had an interesting take on Race and I thought I would share it here because these days there is a lot of talk and gripe about people of various ethnicity and nationality. Foolish talk if you ask me. Nonetheless, here is what Thandie said:

I applied to read anthropology at University. At my interview, the professor asked me "How would you define Race?" Well, I thought I had the answer to that one and I said, "Skin color."

"So, biology, genetics," she said, "because, Thandie that's not accurate, there's actually more genetic difference between a black Kenyan and a black Ugandan than there is between a black Kenyan and a white Norwegian. Because we all stem from Africa, so in Africa there's been more time to create genetic diversity. In other words, Race has no basis in biological or scientific fact."

What is based on biological and scientific fact is that we all stem from Africa. So, Race is an illegitimate concept which ourselves have created based on fear and ignorance.

Maybe you agree with her, maybe you don't, but it's nice to have perspective.

Brice

The first couple days after the airport fiasco are still a blur. I was exhausted from the wedding weekend, I felt like I was going 90mph psychically and emotionally for 6 days straight. That was one reason why the work days following my return to Grenada were quite lazy. The other reason was because the week of July 18-23 was our annual Camp Tufton week in Victoria and I was sooo excited!

The camp is put on by a group of us PCVs in the town of Victoria in the smallest parish, St. Marks. In Victoria, there is a place called Father Mallaghan's Home for Boys. It is at Father Mallaghan's that around 15 boys ranging in age from 10-18 years old live because their families cannot support them (usually due to poverty). It is also at Father Mallaghan's that the 15 coolest boys in the world live and we were oh so very blessed to have an entire week of fun with them. Seriously, the week was a blast and it was a nice little reprieve from our other jobs on the island. This week also felt like we accomplished a lot more (in our minds) according to our Peace Corps mission than at our sites the past couple of months. Now, I could sit here and write a novel about the camp, each kid, all the fun we had, how awesome the other volunteers were, the beauty we saw on the island, etc. BUT I doubt your feeble minds could handle the truth. Hell, my body barely handled week, I have 6 or 7 fresh cuts all over my body, a wicked sun burn that from day one never had time to heal, 5 nights of sleep on a couch, and (thanks to Casey) all the kids believe that I have two bullets in my stomach from robbers. That's neither here nor there, let's take a look at what happened throughout the week.

Camp started each morning at 9am and ran until 5pm. I started each morning with some goofy stretches with the boys to get them excited and the blood flowing. I was going to do some energizers from Montreat, but in hindsight it was good that I didn't because it would have been a bit complicated for the kids and I doubt they would have been into it. The first day, we started off tie-dying Team shirts. Hannah and I were the counselors for Team Stressless which consisted of us, Clinton, Laudell, and Jason--quite possibly the most challenging group. We wore those tie-dye shirts everyday which meant that they were incredibly disgusting by the end of the week, I think I might cut it up into pieces to use as rags now. The rest of Monday we hunted crayfish in the river (a task I was awful at), started our Pinatas, made balloon race cars, and then ended the day with a sea bath. At the end of each day we spent about an hour and a half to two hours at the beach to rinse off, goof off, and have fun. Typically, the sea baths were a time for the counselors to relax for 5 minutes in the water before getting attacked by the kids wanting to wrestle and have chicken fights for the remaining hour, it was probably the most tiring part of the camp. Having 4 kids climb on you at the same time for 2 hours is very taxing on your body, especially with a wicked sun burn. My body is still screaming at me.

Tuesday was a particularly relaxing day for the counselors because, after my morning stretches, the entire morning session was a football clinic done by the Jason Roberts Foundation. Kids eat that stuff up in Grenada. Any opportunity to go play football is ceased without hesitation, in truth, it's hard to keep track of kids once you hand them a football to head to the pasture, they go nuts. That afternoon we had various craft stations for the kids. Things like necklace making, face painting, origami, and the egg drop which was my station. I can't speak for the other counselors, but I think everything ran incredibly smooth. My egg drop station was over at the pavilion at the football pasture and unfortunately everyone forgot to take pictures of it. However, the kids loved it. I had them pair up in teams to work together in making a contraption that would make or break an egg when tossed from the top of the pavilion. I am happy to say that we only lost 2 eggs that day. Success. After crafts, it was sea bath time followed by our end of the day team meetings and marble hand outs. As a way to keep the kids in line and behaving well, we set up a marble system. Every day, each team could earn up to 3 marbles for doing nice things or behaving properly. They LOVED marbles. The counselors also loved the marbles because if a camper was complaining or not cooperating we just had to drop the word marble and their attitude instantly changed for the good.

Wednesday was an extra tiring day because we hiked to Tuftonhall River for the majority of the day. The hike was about an hour each way and we spent about 2 hours at the river playing in the water and eating lunch. It was a blast and extremely refreshing. In the afternoon when we got back we were supposed to watch a movie but had trouble setting it up on the TV, so we started sea bath early and spent a little over 2 hours wrestling and swimming. All this created many, many tired counselors. I think we all passed out at 8pm and lagged behind the next day.

Thursday was a fun filled day. In the morning we went on a "nature walk" to find sticks for kite making. The walk ended up being a stroll down and across the street, it was all said and done in 5 minutes tops. So much nature was seen... Everyone was cooperating extremely well with kite making that we kept it up for another hour and pushed back our science experiment. After the campers were all strung out making kites (see what I did there) we headed to the pasture so that Casey and Katie, our resident experts, could teach the kids and counselors some basic Yoga. At first, it looked as though the kids were not interested at all and this was going to cause tons of problems, but a few minutes in they really really enjoyed it and it was a huge success. Great job, Casey and Katie! After lunch, we started our science experiment which was making solar cookers out of cardboard boxes and tinfoil for the kids to make "pizzas"--pieces of sliced white bread with tomato paste and cheese on top. It was a somewhat complex experiment so some of the campers (maybe just me and Hannah's group) needed some assistance, but it went very smoothly. Wonderful idea Errin! Well, these ovens needed a solid hour and a half at least to cook the pizzas so we passed the time by going to the pasture to play football and other shenanigans. These kids just would not tire, they were like energizer bunnies and played and played and played football for what seemed like days. They worked up their appetites and we walked back to the home so they could enjoy their pizzas before heading to the sea to rinse off and play even more.

Friday and Saturday were the epic conclusion to the camp. We headed off Friday morning, without my stretches :(, in the back of a truck to Bathway beach for a camp out. The journey to the campsite took a few hours because of distance and stopping to pick up materials and some of the counselors that lived on the route. When we arrived we quickly set up tents before we lost control of the kids as they were excited to go swim in the beach and play football and cricket. While some of that was happening most of the counselors prepared the oil down. I think I made Bear Grylls proud this weekend as I used his knife for anything I could, but I also used it to take a chunk out of thumb (oops) while cutting up chicken. Whatever, I always say that the best way to clean a cut is by handling raw chicken in dirty water. Oil Down takes a while to cook so we all continued to goof off and swim/play while we waited. We also used the time to bust open the Pinatas they campers had made earlier in the week. The kids loved it, probably because they were getting lots and lots of sweets which the counselors were weary of. A group of campers on a camp out is hard enough to keep track of, providing them with handfuls of sugary goodness is suicide. At night, we had marshmallows and hotdogs for the kids to roast, as well as glow sticks for them to play with, not sure which they enjoyed more. All I know is, Matt, Casey and I spent a good hour trying to get the damn fire started because there wasn't any dry wood around. Also, I don't know about you, but I like my mallows nice and golden. These kids, however, would keep their mallows in the fire until they were black, pull them out, blow out the flaming ball of sugar, and stick them back in the flame. They repeated this process at least 3 times, they liked their mallows extra charred I guess. The kids FINALLY fell asleep and the counselors got as much shut eye as they could sleeping on nothing put back packs and shirts while waking up every so often to take a camper to the bathroom or to get water.

In the morning, we were supposed to be eating Tania Log, a delicious Grenadian breakfast that is akin to porridge and made with water, spices, coconut, tania, and lots of sweetened condensed milk. MY GOD it is delicious, especially when you pour some on bakes, close your eyes and imagine you are eating a glazed donut. However, the guys coming to cook it for us were rather late and leftover cake was not cutting it for breakfast for the campers. Matt had the brilliant idea to take the kids on a hike down the beach to a small little cave to waste a good hour or so. I went with him, Bear Grylls knife in hand (tied to a stick like a spear because I could), and we told the kids their was treasure to be found in the cave, just one of many white lies we told that week. It was actually a pretty entertaining hike, solid idea Matt! After filling our bellies with as much Tania Log as possible, we, the counselors, began to pack things up and take down the camp while the kids went nuts in the sea and all over the camp. Matt and I were tasked with cleaning the giant steel pot in the sea that we cooked all the food in, not an easy task. While we did this the campers had a flour fight up at the camp witch little bags of flour Errin had prepared before running to the sea to rinse off all the white marks. At this point, it was time to head back to Victoria in the back of our trusty truck filled with all our gear and cranky campers. Camp Tufton might have been finished logistically, but the day was far from over. We still had the couple hour drive back to Father Mallaghan's, dropping off gear and some of the PVC's along the way, a closing "ceremony" at the Home, and then the long bus rides home for some of us volunteers to reach our own apartments.

All in all, the camp was very long and taxing on each Volunteer, but we all absolutely loved the time we had with the kids! They truly are special. I'm still rather exhausted at this point so it's highly possible that I left out plenty of good stories, but I feel like that's enough for y'all to read. A special shout out to Errin and Jackie for setting up the camp and leading it. Another shout out to Errin for letting Casey, Matt and I crash at her place in Gouyave each night and for them cooking our dinners while I watched and played music ha. And a future shout out to all of y'all reading this because next year I will be in charge of leading the team of counselors setting up and running the camp and we will need plenty of your support and help!

Look on facebook for all of the pictures, but here are some that pretty much sum up the camp!

Trust Walking

Crayfish Hunting

The infamous Clinton

Hiking in the rain

Jumping into Tuftonhall River

This post was originally going to be short and to the point, but way too much happened to cheat y’all out of some good stories.

As y’all know, this past weekend I was stateside to witness the incredibly magical union of my two best friends Taylor Rigot and Erin Boland. 7-9-11 will forever hold a special place in my heart (not to be confused with 7-P-11 which, Erin, will end up in your wedding photos of us spelling the date with sparklers; I was completely sober, but it was a few minutes before Ryan Naus pointed out my 9 was backwards, oops). Now, I didn’t just witness the wedding, but I was Best Groomsmen—not to be confused with the less cool Best Man position, yea Michael, I said it... However, although the subject of this post concerns an American affair, it will still deal with my adventures abroad (and some at home).

The weekend started with my role as the Prodigal Son returning to America on Thursday the 7th. Travel always comes easy for me. In fact, I like traveling so much that one of my pet peeves is people who suck at traveling and thus ruin my typically effortless and stress free experience. I just don’t understand how some people make it such a problem. It seems so simple to obey airport rules, walk through the airport without dilly-dallying, treat airport staff with proper manners and respect, adapt if there is a hitch in your plan, and be on your merry way. The only part I did not foresee in my trip home was the Miami Intl Airport being a piece of s*** and getting sick from a chicken wrap in their airport. I did find that part funny though because whenever I go abroad people are always saying how important it is to be wary of food that isn’t cleaned properly or cleaned using local water and to be especially careful of lettuce. Well I guess 5 months of Grenada meant that I had to be a bit careful with Miami lettuce when I got back.

I was able to enjoy a short evening with my parents and little brother, Jordan, before calling it a night. Most people asked what I missed most so far from home. Besides family and friends, I missed my car and my dog a lot, but I greatly missed Chik Fil A. After a much needed haircut Friday morning, which turned out surprisingly decent considering the guy cut my hair in literally 12 minutes. To me, that seems waaay to short for a haircut, for all I know the barber aimlessly stabbed at my head with shearers. I don’t care if you’re Sweeney Todd, no one can create a nice head of hair in 12 minutes and then charge $20. Okay, maybe Sweeney Todd was a bad reference, but I can’t think of any famous barbers. Once I had given myself a look of approval in the mirror it was time to head off to Augusta, GA, home of humidity, for the “Best weekend the 15 best friends anyone could have, had”. Now, there was a slight glitch in the plan for the weekend. That slight glitch being the fact that my phone plan was cancelled when I left for the Peace Corps so I had no way to communicate with friends or family and no gps to guide me. I had to resort to using pay phones and writing down directions on a piece of scrap paper, soo 2000’s! Although I was not able to contact my friends, my friends were able to contact the “crazy, cracked out black lady” who now owns my phone number and was quite mad with the amount of texts, phone calls, voice mails received that weekend, some of which were undoubtedly obscene.

I’m going to stop right here with recapping the wedding festivities because I’ll just end up really depressed and missing home/friends even more. All you need to know is that I had one of the best weekends of my life and I love each of the 15 best friends (and everyone else who made it to the wedding) with all my heart.

The point of the post was not to get sappy and reminisce with friends, but to highlight something important that was a focal point of the weekend. Throughout the wedding, everyone and their mother asked “So, what do you actually do there?” which I absolutely did not mind being asked, but after describing it in a slightly different way to the 50th questioner I realized I need to provide the blog with a more detailed description of what I do here. As much as I love being locked out of my apartment, naked, I do more than that as a PCV and it is important that y’all not lose sight of that. So here is a better idea of what goes on:

Currently, I am a Peace Corps Volunteer in Grenada—pronounced GrenAYda, not GrenAHda because Granada is a place in Spain, I didn’t want to be a prick and go around correcting people this weekend, but there you have it. I am a Youth Development Volunteer living in a small community roughly 2 miles outside the capital city. My worksite is the National Disaster Management Agency where they wish to use me as a volunteer teaching disaster preparedness to youths on the island. I also teach at a primary school in the community teaching literacy and numeracy and hopefully American culture next year, plus helping lend a hand to other teachers where possible. Here is a general idea of my daily schedule:

6:30am –Wake up

7:00-8:00am—Cook breakfast, finish waking up, iron clothes, dress, prepare notes and things for work, secure/burglar proof the apartment, double check I have keys.

8:30am-4:00pm –work at NaDMA which could be anything from running to various schools or businesses around the whole island to help with presentations, disaster drills, deliver letters, check shelters, participating in workshops in the office, helping with IT skills, planning programs.

----School days start at 8:30am as well and last until 2:30pm. I think my role in school is pretty self-explanatory. After school I walk home with the kids, playing, answering their many questions about me and life in America.

4:00pm – 5:00pm –unwind from work and get ready to head to training.

5:00pm – 7:00pm – football training in the nearby pasture with the team, on some days it is a game instead of practice. Afterwards, I socialize with the team helping to integrate me into the society.

7:00—8:00pm—If I have dinner already at home it is straight home, if not, then I must hike to the grocery store first. Then, get dinner started while I hop in the shower (cold shower, no hot water)

8:30pm – eat dinner and either watch a tv episode on my lap top (no tv at my apartment) or talk to friends on skype.

9:30pm – Exhausted at this point as you can see I have a full day of work, so I get ready for bed and call it a night before 10pm. The days of staying up till 2:00am in college are long gone.

Peace Corps Volunteer work does not stop once I leave the office of my work site. On the contrary the harder and more important part of integrating into the community occurs whenever awake and not at my worksite. Thus, the work week is very rigorous and often stressful which means on the weekends IF I have a choice of remaining at home to relax/clean/do laundry (only a washer machine), more often than not I choose/need some quiet time.

That is a rough outline of what my Volunteer work entails as of right now. But, if there is anything I have learned in the first 5 months as a PCV, it’s that nothing is constant. The above schedule can and probably will take on a new form every couple of months. For instance, this summer I am helping other volunteers on the island with a variety of summer camps, next semester I will be more involved at my school attachment, I will take on one or two secondary projects that may shadow work at NaDMA. There you have it, though. I wanted to give you a little spoonful of what I do here. To recap:

I DO NOT sit around enjoying: regular beach visits, pina colidas, small luxuries taken for granted like AC, hot water, dryers, clean water, TV, radio, news, disposable income, the list goes on.

I DO work 65 hours a week including work on the weekends. I DO miss home, but I DO love what I am doing. And I DO want y’all to realize I couldn’t do this without all the love and support.

Hopefully that was a bit more insightful into the Peace Corps life than stories of stumbling through woods, being man-handled by locals on the dance floor, and marriage proposals. But because I know y’all love those stories, here is one more:

So guess where I am right now?? If you guessed the San Juan International Airport in Puerto Rico, then you might have something in common with Bruce Willis. Okay now guess where I will be stranded for the next 24 hours?? If you also guessed the San Juan Airport then that is one wicked Sixth Sense you’ve got there. As it turns out, 25 minutes is not enough time to exit a flight, claim luggage, and check into a new flight, because that ship set sailed 10 minutes before you reached the counter. Whatever, I got to hang out in the Atl airport with Taylor and Erin before they went to their honeymoon, small victories. What I didn’t mention to Taylor and Erin when I said goodbye was that I had an option of taking an earlier flight to San Juan today, but because I love them so much I am going to spend the night and next fun-filled 24 hours in an airport chair in San Juan. Honestly, I had a feeling I would be in this situation. The lay-over was way too short to begin with, but then some Air Traffic Controller yahoo in Atl decided it would be a GREAT idea if he, spontaneously, swapped the runways where the planes arrived/departed inevitably effing over countless frequent fliers. The entire flight I kept a cool head, but couldn’t keep from thinking “I think I am going to get f****d in the butt by this delay”. Normal people might be crying at this point, but I’m an expert traveler remember? It wasn’t until I reached the American Airlines desk in San Juan and he told me the flight left 10 minutes ago that I said “I’ve been f****d in the butt…” The worker informed me that I should go talk to the people at the Delta desk since it was totally their fault and not American Airlines and they might offer me a hotel seeing as how the next flight to Grenada isn’t until the same time, 7:45pm, the next day. Guess who was at the Delta desk? You’re right, no one (you’re good at this game). I wouldn’t be working at the Delta desk either when the few Delta flights out of the airport for the day have already left. So here I sit, in an empty airport, wondering what I will do to pass time, contemplating how I will sleep in this chair while also protecting my luggage. But don’t worry, thanks to my extensive practice in using pay phones during the wedding weekend and a few left over quarters, I was able to call up the Reverend and inform him that his prized possession was now stuck between a rock and a Puerto Rican airport and he needed to contact my Country Director to let him know I would be a day late to Grenada. That was a funny story right? Maybe I’m just bitter. Whatever, it is 12:15am here in Puerto Rico so I think it’s time to get 40 winks.

***Update, after 3 uncomfortable hours of “sleep” in an airport chair, I was up and about. The airport was starting to buzz at 4am so I began planning my exit. I spent a good 1.5 hours going back and forth between the American Airlines desks and Delta desks remedying the situation before I finally got a new ticket, fo free. Score, now I only had to burn 12 more hours in the airport with no reading material, and a dead iPod and lap top. Needless to say, it was a loooooong day.

I'm having such a blast!

Delta, where art thou??

:(

Whatever, I've slept in worse conditions.

To put a happy ending on this literary massage, another question I was frequently asked at the wedding was “What is the best part about your life in Grenada?” My answer, the days when I am walking home from being in the community and my little neighbor, Samore, sees me from up the hill and comes running down to me with the biggest smile on her face and jumps into my arms. Countless times she has turned a nasty stressful day into a beautiful one. Small victories.

Brice

Welcome back friends and family. In just a matter of days I'll be hearing those words from y'all as I visit home for potentially the most magical wedding ever. In the meantime, I hope y'all enjoyed your 4th of July like every other American, by crushing beers and judging other countries.

I think I've been to school twice in the past two months. And it's not that I haven't shown up, there just hasn't been classes the past couple of Fridays. The semester is winding down, actually it ends this week and I am headed to the graduation ceremony of my 6th graders later today. So it makes sense that school has been somewhat of a joke lately. I didn't really know that, but the kids did, especially when I started walking towards the school in the morning and my neighbors asked "Sir you gwan whey? Dey no school todey." Right, back to sleep to enjoy my 4 day weekend. I spent most of the weekend just hanging out in my apartment lounging around. The volunteer life can be tiring, when you're not working at your site or on your project then you're working on building relationships in your community or hiking around to pick up groceries and the like. Time off to relax is much appreciated. This particular weekend I also got to play cricket for the first time. I went up on the fort with the neighborhood kids to bowl a few wickets. By the time it was my turn to bat I stepped up to the wicket and got ready to hit a few dingers. Wrong. The 12 year old that was bowling hit the wicket on the second try. I was out and so was my dignity. Not only did I just let down myself, but the rest of America as well. Essentially, I let cricket beat baseball, what a disgrace... Honestly though, swinging the bat in cricket is a lot different than swinging a baseball bat. A couple overs later and it was my turn to bat again and I wasn't going to let some punkass preteen embarrass me again, no sir. I learned my lesson and adjusted so I could hit a few before everyone lost interest in the game. We played some football and I brought an American football with me to have a little culture lesson with the kids. Success.

According to the Roman Catholic Church in Grenada, June 29 is the birthday of St. Peter patron saint of fishermen. Every year in Gouyave, our fishing town, there is a big celebration called Fisherman's Birthday. The day is celebrated with boat races, boat decorating, street vendors, lots of loud music, comedians and performers, and lots of alcohol. Sounds like a blast right? I was lucky enough to experience part of Fisherman's Birthday. But I wasn't just there for the fun of it. No, I was there with NaDMA handing out Disaster Preparedness brochures under a tent on the beach, which was actually enjoyable. We had set up at our tent around 1:30pm and by 2:30 my co-worker informed me it was time for Carib happy hour. Don't need to tell me twice. We spent the next 4 hours passing out more brochures and sipping a couple of beers while the music blared from DJ's all around us. Fisherman's Birthday was turning out to be a lot of fun, but we left a little after 6pm to head back to the office and call it a day. I'm told the Birthday celebrations lasted long into the night, so I look forward to staying longer next year.

Yes, that is a refrigerator as a cooler.

Hark! White People!

Lovin it

After work the next day, Thursday, I had a nice chat with Mack. I was sitting down after a shower having just come home from practice when she told me that her friend was singing up on Fort Matthew (next to me) that night for the lead up to Carnival. Since it is free to go watch on Thursday nights I decided I would check it out. Unfortunately, I didn't walk up there in time to catch Mack's friend sing, but the concert turned out to be a lot of fun with some decent music. Along with decent music there were also a few drunk locals acting a fool, my neighbors to hang out with, a comedic emcee, and Carib. It was a nice night and I'm getting more and more excited for Carnival in August.

I did not have to go to school the next day, Friday, because the 6th graders were practicing their graduation ceremony which meant no school for anyone else. Regardless, Friday was an incredible day. The reason is because the Charge D'Affair invited us volunteers to his 4th of July party at the embassy (which happens to be named the Shangri La) along with other diplomats and dignitaries. The party was so much fun. There was a super sweet jazz band that rocked out on some Bob Marley before playing our National Anthem with a saxophone. My god if there isn't anything sexier than a saxophone playing the Star Spangled Banner. What's even better is that Mr. Link was nice enough to bust out some American food for the dinner. There was corn on the cob, ribs, meatballs, turkey burgers, roast beef, chicken and much more. Quite possibly the best thing on the menu and most ingenious things ever created were mini apple pies! Christ on a cross (as one of my favorite Pc profs would say), these pies were like crack! You should have seen the plates us volunteers had, it looked like we hadn't seen food in months--which isn't far from the truth. We all looked like fatty fatty no friends with the amount of food we ate, but it was well worth it. Oh, I also got to dance with some drunk old lady, that was a riot. nom nom nom nom

Mini Apple Pies!

Right after the dinner party at the embassy we took a bus to Tanteen Park which is just outside of downtown (also across from the post office). Mack's friend was supposed to be singing again with her Soca band, but when we arrived at the basketball courts it was a different scenario. Instead of the Soca competition there was a steel pan band competition. Just as awesome. The bands played songs by artists like Elvis, Bruno Mars, and Marc Antony. But the greatest performance of all was by a band that played one of the greatest songs of all, that's right, one band played Thriller on the steel pan. Ah. Mazing. This band knocked it out the park and they even had zombie make up and clothes on. Oh, and they threw in a dance number in the middle. My night was complete.

I felt pretty sick all weekend, not sure what it was. We were supposed to have our first football game on Saturday, but the other team pulled a no-show. I was pretty relieved and after I pushed my way through a sloppy practice I was ready to pass out. Despite feeling sick and being extremely tired, I got the worst night of sleep ever. I feel like it is a law of nature that when you crawl into bed exhausted it ends up taking you hours to finally fall asleep. Anyone else? It felt like I was trying to fall asleep with a fever and when I woke up Sunday I felt no better so I just sat around the apartment sweating all day. Come Monday I was so ready to feel better, mainly because it was the 4th of July. I went to work in the morning until they shooed me away because they knew it was Independence Day. Although I did not get to enjoy any fireworks, my 4th of July was still great. In the afternoon, I was able to go see my 6th graders graduation ceremony before heading off to another football game. I was excited to finally play a game, but as soon as we started I felt differently. I don't know if it was bad water or bad peanut butter, but 5 minutes into the game my stomach dialed 911 and I thought I was gonna vomit out both ends. Dirty water seems to strike you in the most inopportune times here. I played the way I felt, like shit. The other players and my coaches didn't seem to understand that I felt seriously ill they just thought I was tired after 10 minutes of playing. Pllleeease. At half time I quickly grabbed my stuff and was taking my gear off when some of the other players informed me I was going back in. What??! I'm about one kick away from making the field my toilet and I wasn't playing well, why must you keep me in?? Luckily, I was able to stomach the rest of the game, that's right, they made me play all 90 minutes on the verge of death. Even though I was a lost cause, the game was not and we went up 2-0 in the second half to finish. I learned a few things from the experience. First, locals clearly don't understand the pain and agony of travelers diarrhea. Second, it's pretty inevitable that I always guard the douche-bag on the other team. Seriously, every game I end up in a fight with the guy I'm against. And it is always the same problem: they rough me up so I get pissed and do the same thing back (legally) when they get the ball, then comes the threats and big boy talk like he is somebody special which sets me off because he thinks because I'm white and therefore not entitled to anything. It's so stupid. Don't kick me in the jaw and dislocate my thumb while I'm on the ground and expect me to give you a high-five afterwards. And when I make you look bad after that, save the empty threats for your kids. Grow up, play the game, and understand that it is a physical sport. That's essentially what I told him after he whined, but with more potty words.

That's about it for now. I'm spending the next few days gearing up for my trip home, gotta pick up stuff downtown, run to the bank, set up meetings, boring stuff. BUT, I'll be stateside Thursday night until next Monday afternoon. Get excited!

Brice

I've been rather busy down here on this island in the sun. Workshops here and there at NaDMA. Lazy school days as the term draws closer to the end. Soccer practice. Pretty much the usual, but I was able to have a few exciting days to tell y'all about.

June 10 was a interesting day at school. The students only had a half day and at lunch time they watched a movie (if they could fork up the $2). The day was hectic though. Some students didn't bother to show up as well as some teachers which left me with the slack to pull. I was asked to help out Mrs. Parke in the downstairs classrooms (grades 1, 2, 3) because two of the teachers were missing. As much as I love hanging out with kids, I wasn't prepared to entertain a bunch of 2nd graders followed by whichever other students didn't pay for to watch the movie. I had them play some games because that's what I remember doing in 2nd grade. I split them up into two teams, Team Grapes and Team Strawberries, they chose the names haha. I showed them pictures of animals and they had to spell them out for me. Everything was fine until we hit pictures of animals that these kids had never seen before, which happened to be half the animal kingdom. So once that game fell through we did some coloring. I had to yell at a group of kids for the first time that day which was a strange feeling. The kids wouldn't stop throwing bouncy balls everywhere, especially at a girl who has a learning disability which made me furious. After school, I hiked to the PC office to turn in my vacation form for the Rigot wedding and pick up some snazzy new PC polos. There was also a package slip in my box so I headed off to the post office asap. I had 20 minutes before they closed so I had to do some speed walking, and at 3:40 in the afternoon that's a recipe for sweaty clothes. The sweat caused all the marking on the package to rub off on me while I was walking downtown to the bus terminal. I looked like a wet, purple marked wreck. Nothing a Carib couldn't fix though.

That weekend, 11th-12th, I spent the day working on the property with my trusty new cutlass. Our land was pretty overgrown and since I live on the ground level I took it upon myself to fix this situation. I spent a couple hours cutting the grass and weeds and it was actually pretty fun. At one point, I was taking a break and the ladies above me brought me down part of a roti (similar to a burrito), some pineapple juice and a slice of cake! Lorice said she wished she had a camera to document my work because I looked like a real Grenadian. I'm trying.

June 13th was, of course, Whit Monday!! I don't know how y'all celebrate Whit Monday, but it's similar to the Jewish Passover here. On the eve of Whit Monday, families place a line of white sugar outside their homes to please Whitney Houston when she passes over every home. If they fail to leave the offering, home owners are forced to watch an impromptu live Whitney Houston concert that is so emotionally powerful that they are left in a vegetative state until the next year's Whit Monday. Adults spend all day watching Soul Train while kids celebrate the holiday by reenacting The Bodyguard. It's a joyous festival for all. Actually, I have no idea what Whit Monday is, but it was an excuse to visit the beach for the first time in 2 months.

So, remember that time I got locked out of my apartment? Well I didn't learn my lesson, apparently. The Thursday after Whit Monday, I came home from soccer practice, set my stuff inside and then walked outside on my patio. I hang up all my gear after training because it's dirty and sweaty. Makes sense, right? What didn't make sense was habitually locking the door behind me when I stepped outside to take my gear off. I was standing there, butt naked outside my apartment, locked out, keys are inside on my table. What the hell was I going to do? The spare key I was given last time is also inside on my table. Greeeeattt. After standing there, in the dark, still naked, I had to formulate a plan. I through some of my sweaty clothes back on, at least the shorts, and walked upstairs to see if my land lady had any extra keys because I did it again. She didn't find it funny this time, neither did I, I was starving, needed a shower, and I reeeally did not want to sleep outside again, naked. I tried all her other spare keys to no avail. The reality of the situation sunk it a little more. I knew there was only one option, I had to break into my own apartment. Amidst a junk pile next to my apartment I found a thin, 10 foot long pvc pipe with some wire sticking out the end. I fashioned the wire into a hook, pulled the screen off my window, and stuck the pole through the burglar bars like a fishing pole. At first, I tried to use the pole to unlock the window on the adjacent wall because it was next to a door I could reach in and unlock. That was proving to be difficult, instead, I attempted to use the pole to fish for my keys off the table. After 15 slow, agonizing minutes, just longing for dinner and clothes, I successfully fished my keys out the window! I was so happy and proud of what I had just accomplished, I had just broken into my own apartment in 20 minutes! Wait... If I can do it, someone else can too. That's not good. I keep everything far from the windows when I'm gone now.

This past weekend was pretty enjoyable, minus the rain. It's been raining here every day for the past 2 weeks or so. The rain is only on and off, but it decides to pour when you are enjoying the day. Instead of going to my school on Friday I worked at NaDMA. We had an open house in Grenville where we handed our brochures and disaster preparedness information with some of our stakeholders like Digicel, Lime, the Ministry of Health, and the Red Cross. It was a fairly successful event, but a storm rolled in from the see and we closed up shop around 2pm. Saturday had a similar rain situation. It was Mackenzie's birthday (another volunteer), so we all gathered at Grand Anse beach to have a burrito party and enjoy the sun. It was a really fun time and it's not that often that we get to see all of each other in the same place. Unfortunately, the rain came in the afternoon and wouldn't leave until later that night, but we all had fun anyways.

Part of the open house

In the meantime, I'm busy at work planning and developing these youth community groups NaDMA wants me to be responsible for. It's a bit frustrating because it seems like NaDMA wants me for something different for what I am here to do as a PCV. Basically, they want me to organize and develop this program all on my own, present it to them, and then conduct the training sessions on disasters for the youths. The problem is that I'm not exactly here to do solo work because that doesn't practice sustainability. And my main goal here isn't to just teach people about disasters, I'm here to do youth development and train things like life skills, IT skills, against HIV/AIDS discrimination etc. It sounds to me like they just needed someone to do some extra legwork and they don't have to pay me. So I'm busy working on a plan that focuses more on sustainability and training other things besides disaster preparedness. I don't think it should be hard, I just hope they get a better understanding of my role here and accept whatever proposal I give them or else I might have to focus on a secondary project elsewhere.

Today, June 23, is Corpus Christi. Another holiday celebrated down here where, traditionally, it was a day for planting in the fields. I didn't do any planting, rather I'm trying to last as long as I can on this last bit of food before going to buy more groceries. I've been trying to save cash for my trip home for the wedding. Also, I don't want to leave a bunch of food in my fridge while I'm gone. Meals have been either spaghetti or beans for the past week in an attempt to cut corners and time my grocery buying right. Delicious! But tomorrow I get to splurge at the grocery store and then it's the weekend again and 2 weeks till I visit home/friends!!

Until next time!

It's been awhile since I have given y'all a nice little adventure story to laugh at. Luckily, this past weekend provided me with such an experience. The future of this blog will focus less and less on most of my daily/weekly activities. This is because as days go by they all seem to blend together for me and what might sound interesting to you--such as hiking home at night with 25 lbs of groceries only to realize when I got home that I forgot to buy the thing I was out of for the past 3 days, deodorant--actually happens often for me. I'll still throw you a touchy-feely and encouraging post every so often when the mood strikes, but for now, it's time to get your laugh on.

Friday, normally my school visit day, was going to be a special day because our school was having a fair to raise funds for the 6th grade graduation fund and general funds. I was excited and all the teachers and community members kept talking this fair up like it was Woodstock or Bonnaroo for you hipsters. I was also excited because the fair didn't start till 2pm, which meant I got to sleep in an extra hour before heading to town to take care of some errands. I caught a bus to St. George and set off to my first stop: a sketchy Tailor shop to get fitted for my tux for the Rigot wedding. Obviously, I put this chore first because it got me happy for the rest of the day. This place had been recommended to me by my coworker at NaDMA, one of the district coordinators owned the Tailoring shop. Well, Mr. Chan was not there when I arrived, (by the way this place is at the top of a giant hill and the sun is out blazing at 11am) so I enjoyed some light conversation with the other workers there while sweating profusely. Seriously? All I was doing was sitting on a stool, indoors, and I was dripping with sweat. Welcome to Grenada... The light conversation turned into the workers asking me if I was married, then to telling me that I should find a girl here, it's easy, we've got one in the back, here she comes, oh it's not awkward, you should marry her. Sarcasm doesn't really translate here, so subtle hints and pity laughs don't usually throw people off the conversation every time they talk about me getting a wife. I wasn't mad though, because I was still really excited for the day and excited for the wedding in a month.

After getting my sizes written down I crossed the road to pay a visit to the GNOW (Grenada National Organization of Women) office. My host mother/land lady works there and so does another PCV, so it's nice to stop by when I'm in town and enjoy some friendly company. I said my "good afternoons" and then headed of to find lunch somewhere. I was craving a smoothie from this ballin smoothie place down town, but, for whatever reason, this place is always running out of bananas and peanut butter. You'd think they'd realize that those are their two most requested ingredients and therefore buy more of them, but no. I'm not going to tell you what I actually ate for lunch because I feel guilty... Okay, fine, it was Subway. You can't just walk past a subway, catch a whiff of that bead baking, that deli meat being sliced, cookies warming, and not say no. It's a siren's song that leads you to your "fresh & healthy" death, and I was buying what this siren was selling. I say that I feel guilty because I'm sure when you picture the Peace Corps you don't imagine fast food to be within a 100 mile radius of any volunteer. Well that's not always the case, maybe so for volunteers in parts of Africa, but in today's economy and technology it is hard to hide from Colonel Sanders or Ronald McDonald. Although, we don't have McDonald's and I'm glad for that, the golden arches are a poster child for America and I don't want to see that on the horizon here.

After quickly paying my absurd electrical bill ($145 EC!!), I vowed to stop using my fan so much and then went to the hardware store to pick up a cutlass. Cutlass, panga, machete, sabre, wherever you are (outside the US) this puppy is an essential tool. Whether it's used for yard work, cutting open waternuts/coconuts, home security, building, picking your teeth, making a pb&j, chopping a man's arm off, you name it and it can be done with a cutlass. It was high time I bought one here. I need to do some yard work on our property, preferably with my shirt off to combat on my everlasting paleness. Small hitch in that plan is that I forgot to also pick up a sharpening stick. Rookie mistake. The only thing you can do with a dull cutlass is wave it around pretending you're a pirate. And yes, I did just that.

Daddy's new toy.

At 2pm, I promptly rolled up to St. Joseph's RC School Morne Jaloux to get my school fair on. Teachers were still setting up some of the final booths and bringing in different food and snacks. I walked over to talk to Senorita, obviously she teaches quantum physics to our elementary students, and by physics I mean Spanish. She's super cool, and she was busy painting a child's face. I made some jokes about her "skills" and then told her I could help out with the face painting booth. After she saw my first masterpiece, (according to her), she designated me face-painter and herself the money collector. Cue the next 5, tiring hours. Now, I consider myself an artist, but painting isn't my forte, especially on small children's faces with water colors. But I sacked up and got the job done. In truth, I spent 5 hours at the fair painting faces, Senorita and I racked in $93 EC from our booth (charging $2 a face). Yea, that's a hell of a lot of face painting. You might ask "Holy smokes Brice, what did you paint on 45 different faces??" About 30 of these children wanted butterflies... I pretty much just made that one up on the FLY. Ha get it.. Some of them turned out great, some not so much, but I didn't let the kid know that. Other things I painted on faces included: Dora the Explorer, Spongebob, spider webs, horses, stars, starfish, hearts, t-rex, optimus prime, a dragon, the Bat Symbol, and masks. Needless to say, I was exhausted by 7:30pm and oblivious to what had been happening elsewhere at the fair. We closed up the face painting shop and I awoke from my trance, drank a Carib and walked outside to a startling scene. Hundreds of people were liming outside the school, listening and dancing to the music, eating the barbecue and getting crazy. My principal had told me that the fair was a big deal and that the streets would be lined with cars and people. I didn't believe her until I saw it with my own eyes. Our school was packed. It didn't even look like a school anymore. We had barbecue chicken grillin out front next to a tower of speakers, DJs were up on our stage remixin music, inside the dividing walls were removed and our 3rd grade classroom had been transformed into a bar, in our 4th grade class room was one of those carnival-ring toss games except you were aiming for bottles of rum and you won the bottle if you rung it. It was quite the soiree. But this was just a tease, just foreplay for the main event. BINGO!!! Around 8:30 we started a giant bingo game. People go ape shit for bingo here. Pardon my language, but that's exactly what it was like. The cash prize for the big game was $1000 EC which created a LOT of incentive for everyone to play. Come 9:30pm I couldn't hang anymore and had to head home for sleep and dinner.

T-Rexin

"And Bingo was his name-o"

Saturday was an equally fun filled adventure day. I woke up and performed my typical weekend chores: cleaning the house, washing dishes/prepping food, washing clothes yadda yadda. I decided to pass on the Hash this weekend and visit the Jazz Festival that we were supposed to be helping out at. "Supposed to" because the festival wasn't advertised to its potential and no kids showed up in the beginning for our kid sections (face painting, bouncy castle etc.) The actual Jazz part was phenomenal though. There are some really talented jazz musicians and drummers in Grenada that always make for some easy listening. Around 8pm, Casey and I headed downtown to grab some dinner and cold beer. We paid a visit to D Bar, a nice hole in the wall that a group of us like to visit every so often because we are really good friends with the owner and staff. We always have a fun time there, this night was no different. Unfortunately, right when Casey and I showed up everyone was out at the Carnival Jump Off. Now, our Carnival isn't until August, but the Jump Off is a chance for bands to preview their music and performances for the upcoming festivities. Although D Bar was empty, Eeron, the owner of the bar and rum maker, was still there. He's been making rum for quite awhile now and has awards to prove how delicious it is. Casey and I chatted it up with him while waiting for two other volunteers to meet us. We also got free rides on the pool table and dominoes table at in the bar. Normally they are always taken and we don't get included like we are Rudolph the red nosed reindeer or some bologna, I like to pretend it's not because we are white. We hung out for awhile and then decided to call up a bus driver to take us to Bananas. Remember Bananas? That club/bar I went to one time that was a bit out of control? We decided to visit it again, it had been a while since we had hung out and there was a performance that night, some guy by the name of "Baby Killer" which should have been a sign to not go. Alas, we headed out. Since they don't let backpacks into Bananas, I left my bag at D Bar so I could pick it up on Monday. We had a really fun time dancing and socializing. That is until a local girl decided to dance all up on me from the stage, and this wasn't PG dancing either. I was a target at this point. Her next move? To pounce on me like a jungle cat, tackling me to the floor where she proceeded to whyne all up on me, especially my face. The force off this maneuver hit me full on in the nose. It's a miracle I didn't come out of this looking like Owen Wilson, but I did wake up the next morning with blood in my nose. Everyone just stood there and watched while I became a victim of dance-rape. When it was all over I was delirious and stumbled off to the bathroom to wash my face and regain my dignity. Katie later said "I heard I missed some girls nanner all over your face". Yes, Katie, you did, consider yourself lucky. I have no idea what this Baby Killer character was rapping about, all I know is that this place was hot and stuffy and I was soaking wet with sweat. Eventually, we called it a night and headed home. On the way back I had a sudden epiphany, in my bag I left at D Bar were my house keys. SOB... I had no way to get into my place. What's the logical thing to do at this point? Sleep on the ground outside your apartment using your doormat as a pillow. Honestly, I deserved that. I woke up at 7am, surrounded by a swarm of ants, feeling like Dr. Frankenstein pieced me together while I slept. I marched up stairs with my poker face on and luckily Lorice was out and about and helped me find an extra key to one of my doors. She also gave me a bunch of mangoes. Feeling victorious, I waltzed into my apartment, showered, and promptly slept in my bed for another 5 hours. Mmmmm.

I hope these tales gave you a chuckle to get through the mid-week hump.

Brice

Sorry to keep you waiting.

I woke up bright and early. They day felt no different than any other day. The sun was out and there was a cool breeze running down the mountain. Maybe I should have felt different, maybe I should have magically woken up at 12:00am and felt a shock go through my body. But I didn't, and that's not how it works. As far as I'm concerned, May 18 is just another day. On this particular day, I make a nice breakfast and head off to work in a mood. A mood not reflecting the day, but what it means. Honestly, I was dreading this day. I sit in on another long Radio Communications training session focusing not on frequencies and megahertz but on friends and family back home. When the loud buzzing from the radio room and the work-less afternoon finally get to me I pack up my things. My coworker turns to me, "Oh you leavin at 3 today?" "Yea man, its my birthday, remember, I think that counts for something." "Haha, you right you right, get outta here Mr. Brice." I'm in a mood because it's my first real birthday away from home, from family and friends. I say "first real" because I turned 21 when I was in Ireland, but I had 35 Pc cohorts to enjoy that one with, and enjoy it we did. But here I am, in a country that, despite being here for 5 months, still feels incredibly foreign, I hardly know anyone. I've never really looked forward to my birthday because, contrary to popular belief, I don't like attention. Attention is something you can't shake on your birthday, why? It's not like I did anything special. Hell, go give my mom your wishes, she did the work, right? An ideal birthday for me would be a solo hike or beach getaway to myself. At the end, I would come home at night and see my friends or check messages, because who doesn't want to know they belong, I am human after all. I think that belonging is one of the most basic human principles. And on this day I woke up afraid I wouldn't find that belonging. Sure, I was on my island getaway, but I would be staying on that getaway all day, for two more years in fact. I am in a mood because I won't get to see those friends later. Eventually, I realize I've been moping around like a little bitch all day. I'm a Peace Corps Volunteer in Grenada, how can I not be happy and feel blessed?! No sooner than I awake from this coma does another volunteer call me to tell me they are taking me out for pizza and ice cream tonight. I end the day happy. I belong.

Every year there is a Disaster Preparedness Quiz at the primary schools on the island. I went with Mr. Jones on May 19 to go conduct one of these quizzes. After an incredibly long bus ride, carrying way more people then the bus legally should, sweating, hopping off the bus to realize we are going to the wrong school, and catching a bus in the right direction we make it St. Dominic's RC School. My role was simple, keep score and take pictures for NaDMA or ask the questions to the kids when Mr. Jones had to step out. My role was not to laugh at the kids answer to the question "What is the name for the type of disaster where oil and other hazardous waste pollutes the ocean?" The kids answered with "BP". I couldn't help but laugh out loud. You'd think being the only white person was enough to make me stand out, but no, laughing during a quiz competition when everyone else is silent works well too.

Kids during the quiz competition

Over the past two weeks, I've continued my normal routine at NaDMA and St. Joseph's. At NaDMA I continue to do research and type up presentations that I will use to start these youth groups in the community, your guess is as good as mine on what these groups are supposed to compose of. At school, I continue to bounce around from classroom to classroom. Sometimes I keep a class busy and "quiet" while the teacher is out. I do this by playing drawing games with them or reading them stories from Toad and Frog. I walk around classrooms helping students that aren't understanding material, helping with phonics, and grading work. The other day, grade 6 went on a walkathon to raise money for the graduation fund. One girl stayed behind at the school because she didn't get permission from her parents I think. Well I entertained Leandra all day by being someone to talk to and when I wanted to take a break so I could finish reading Water for Elephants, I told her to draw a picture for me. It's always entertaining so see how kids' drawings turn out when you ask them that. At the end of the day, Leandra said "Wow, that was the longest conversation I've ever had!" It's good to know that I don't have to be teaching 50 kids how to read or be pulling a baby from a wreck to know I'm making a difference here.

Nothing really special or adventurous has occurred, nothing that could follow a story about sea turtles at least. That is until I received a letter in the mail from my grandmother. "Pshh big deal, my grandmother lives down the road from me, we don't send letters because we see each other every day!" Pump your breaks, South Carolina. Did your grandmother tell you today that you have relatives in Grenada, the country you now live in? BOOM. Didn't think so. Yes, apparently a great-great-great somebody on my grandmother's side sailed over from Wachet, England, married a local woman and never went home. So, anyone I meet with the last name Date is potentially related to me, especially if they are more Indian than black, (Grenada is comprised of people of Indian decent, black people of Caribbean decent, and expats). I have yet to meet one, but I asked some local friends and they said that Date was a popular name here, especially in the parish of St. Andrew. In the event that I am genetically-predisposed to stay here with a Grenadian woman, I just have to make sure she isn't a Date. Thanks for insightful information, Mumsey! And by the way, I'm in GrEnada, not GrAnada. Granada is in southern Spain.

In the end, don't forget, Family Matters, whether you're here or there.

Brice

Had a pretty awesome last week. During the week at NaDMA I sat through another Communications Training session (the same one I will have to sit through on my birthday), similar to the one I helped Mr. Lyons present to the Nursing School. I picked up one or two other things and it was better than sitting at my desk with nothing on my plate. Speaking of plates, they also had catering that day, score. For Thursday I went down to the place we film our TV show because I was going to follow Jason afterwards to a training session. We were training the Parliamentary Elections Office about Tsunamis, it sounds a lot cooler than it actually is. I then spent the rest of the afternoon trying to install Microsoft Office Professional 2007 onto my computer. Let's just say that I still don't have it installed on my computer and me and Microsoft aren't the best of friends at the moment.

Friday was supposed to be another school day, right? Wrong. Apparently all the catholic schools on the island had some sort of conference or training thing going on. Well I didn't find this out till Thursday night and I felt bad that it was going to be my second Friday off in a row, I enjoy going to my school attachment. To make the most out of the day I told my little neighbor we would go fly kites on Friday instead. The kid is waiting outside my apartment at 8:00am when I wake up. What the hell... That was not what I had in mind when I said we could go fly kites, I was thinking afternoon time, not crack of dawn. Typically, I like to take my time in the mornings eating breakfast/surfing the net or catching up on a TV show. This child had other plans. I made it pretty clear that I was mad at him for waking me up by ignoring him, but then I felt bad so I gave him a mango (which he had also been asking for at least 50 times). We set out to fly kites up on the fort around 10am. Once we got the kite in the sky we goofed around, I tried to teach him how to do a back flip, we threw rocks at lizards and climbed around. At one point we stumbled upon a section where a pipe had burst and the ground was a bit flooded, little fella decided he was going to do some swimming. Naked... I was completely caught off guard as this kid dropped trout and ran around in the water. But I did what any grown man would do in a situation like this, I turned around and walked away and pretended like a child I barely know didn't just do the no pants dance in front of me. Thankfully, as soon as I walked to the other side of the fort he came back fully dressed.

I ended up eating a late lunch because I wanted to enjoy a Coke with my meal. As much as I would like to give up coke you don't just live in Atlanta for 9 years and stop drinking the stuff. That's like a vegetarian barbecuing a hamster. On my quest to find a coke, I met a man named Humphrey whom lives down the street from me. Through our interesting conversation I learned the following: his birthday is the day after mine making us both Tauruses as he pointed out, he used to be friends with another white guy around the time of the Intervention, he has two kids, twins, Paul and Paula who are about to turn 4 and hopefully will be at me school next year, he seems to be one of the few Grenadians that realize the poor grammar situation on the island, oh and he is currently wanted by the law. He is, as he called it, "playing hide n seek with the pohleece". When I asked why, he said a guy came by his house and was causing all sorts of trouble, so he "took care of the guy" That's the politically correct term someone gives you when they kill a guy. Later, he told me all he did was use words with the guy, but he was charged by the court with threatening language or something to that matter and they wanted him to pay $500 by the end of the month. Wellll, I think it's about 49% of people are unemployed on the island (so quit your whining back home) which makes money tight, and Mr. Humphrey couldn't pay the court, so now he is hiding from them. Makes total sense. Whatever, he said he will give me Water Nuts and fruits when I come by him and I can hang out with his kids. He is super nice. I did eventually get a coke by the way, I just had to hike all the way to by my school to find one.

Friday night was spectacular. A group of us went to Sauteurs on the north side to meet up and head to Levera Beach to see sea turtles laying eggs. It was awesome. Levera Beach is a beautiful spot, go ahead and google it to see some images. You have to stay up pretty late to see the turtles. Luckily we were able to see a Leatherback Turtle around 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning and this momma was massive. She looked like a dinosaur, seriously. We watched her for 20 minutes or so as she covered her eggs in the sand. Talk about dedication. Swimming all the way from Australia (I think that's where these ones migrate from), and then spending an exhausting hour laying the eggs and burying them in the sand. P90x has nothing on that workout. I could talk on and on about how cool it was, but I'll just let this picture do the work.

That's exactly what it looked like. I mean, they do say that eating pizza is good after giving birth. Okay, fine, I don't have a picture. They don't let you use flash photography for the turtles' safety so I wasn't able to snag any good pics. But this is a picture I pulled from the internet of a turtle on Levera Beach.

On Saturday I headed to Grenville for a hash. I was a little tired from the turtle experience, but there's nothing an afternoon watching The Dark Knight can't fix. Am I right? Being as prepared as we could be for the hash we (Casey, Matt, Evan and I) set off to meet the group. The hash was a bit of a downer in the sense that a lot of it was on the road, it wasn't marked that well and it was pretty short. I did make the most of it though, I was in need of a good workout. I also managed to get sunburn on top of existing sunburn during the hash. Normally, after 4pm the sun doesn't really have an effect, but I didn't realize that it does when you're running around without a shirt and some pre-existing burn. There were some cool moments from the hash though. At one point, the group of us in the front lost the trail on the beach(because it wasn't well marked, see?) There trail ended at this spot where a river of water was flowing out into the sea. I decided to be a hero and charge through the flowing water to the other side, it was about waste high. I had no idea of this was the right direction to go, but I told the others I would go check the trail, and I couldn't cast any doubt, not after I ran through the water like a boss, had to keep confidence. Turns out I did find the right trail a bit after crossing the river. I felt like a champ, and suddenly I had renewed energy as I continued to run on looking for more of the trail like it was a game of cat and mouse. Me and this older guy were up in the front when we came to another "iffy" spot on the trail. I went to check the trail again and ran into some kids who were happy to tell me I was going in the right direction and that they weren't lying. Kids are cruel... I ran a good quarter of a mile off the track before a local gave me directions. Luckily, no other hashers followed me. In the end, even though the hash was pretty sub-par, there is no such thing has a hash that isn't fun. Afterwards, there was music and oil down, we enjoyed a conversation with our friend The Russian who scared us with talk about Dengue Fever, but then excited us with talk about taking us to Trinidad on his boat. I don't know if was the hash and exhausting weekend or just hanging out with the boys, but we were feasting like nobody's business. We ate oil down after the hash, Fish brof a little bit later, then we went on a mission to find street barbecue chicken, but before finding the chicken we found goat brof and ate that as well. In total, we ate chicken, fish, pig, goat and vegetables in 4 separate dinners. Mmmmmmmm!

I guess those are the more exciting tales from the past week. I also received my GFA schedule for this season and we are playing the majority of our games at the national stadium, some under the lights, so that's pretty rad.

I hope that wet your whistle,

Brice

So here are the non-touchy feely highlights of the past week:

We hung out at the Chargé d'Affaires' house Tuesday night. He is basically the US Ambassador here, but gets a super cool/pretentious name because Grenada is small. He's funny though. Anyways, we are at his casa for the launching of this Grenada Alumni Association. It's for Grenadians that spent time in America studying or working and are now back, something like that. All I really remember is that they had good finger food and the house was insanely nice. I'd insert a joke here about taxpayer money, but I'm told he throws us a nice 4th of July party, so I'll refrain.

I felt super important at NaDMA when they handed me a sheet of the 2011 Hurricane Predictions and I then forwarded it to our Safety and Security Officer in St. Lucia, potentially saving hundreds of lives. If you're interested, we are predicted to enjoy a total of 80 "Named Storm Days", 35 Hurricane Days and 10 Major Hurricane Days this year. Sounds like a blasty blast. I also have a list of the names they are going to use for the storms this year. I don't want to ruin the surprise, but I will tell you that there is going to be one named Gert, I'm positive that was one of the names of a Swede in the Die Hard movies. And pray that we don't make it to Hurricane Tammy, have you ever met a Tammy that wasn't a stuck up bitch? Me neither.

On Wednesday I was volunteered to be the guest speaker on NaDMA's TV program that runs on Thursdays. A day's notice wasn't too much of a problem. I excel under pressure. Just ask Taylor, he envied my last-minute-paper-writing capabilities. The topic for the show was the role of the Peace Corps and my specific role as well as some discussion on disaster management. No biggie. I figured our APCD Eugene could come on the show with me and help out if I needed to phone a friend. Nahhh, Eugene had better things to do, but he was nice enough to tell me he had faith that I wouldn't blow the interview on my own. I prepared some notes Wednesday night and Thursday morning before hiking down to the GIS studio at the Ministry. I arrived early in hopes of talking about the interview and questions with my co-worker, he was conducting the show so I knew he wouldn't throw me any curve balls but I just wanted to make sure. Well I hung out outside what I thought was the door to GIS for half an hour before someone walked by and asked if I needed help, he then informed me that they don't use that entrance anymore, oops. The interview was fine, I was bit nervous beforehand. I mean, I had never been on tv before, let alone in a foreign country. And everyone watches tv here. One time I was hanging out in a little snack shop near my school and the lady was just limin and watching Bonanza, don't ask why, and don't ask if I sat there for 30 minutes and watched with her, because I did. I was prepared to talk for a good half hour, I like talking, but he expected me to summarize the role and programs of the Peace Corps and my service in 9 minutes... Oh well, 9 minutes is better than no minutes, and lots of my community saw me, so I'm basically famous.

I made a nice little Cinco de Mayo meal for myself that night. It was sort of a Roti, sort of a burrito, I guess those two are kind of the same anyways. I cooked pumpkin, black eyed peas, rice, okra, potatoes, plantains and spicy chicken and then mixed some of it in a roti wrap(100x better than tortillas). The only error in my meal was that I forgot cerveza. Fail.

On schedule for Friday was an afternoon meeting at Errin's place in the fishing town of Gouyave. Some of us were there to discuss ideas for a summer camp we are running at an orphanage in the town of Victoria. Of the many good ideas we shared, I mentioned the energizers we did at Montreat, so I think that may be one of my jobs. Thanks, Pc. Gouyave is famous for Fish Friday which is a nighttime party type thing that happens every Friday night in town. The streets are lined with tents selling all different types of fish and other foods, even Lo Mein. The food was sooo delicious, Errin is pretty lucky to live there. Totes jealous. The only problem was that it was crawling with white people, ew.

Errin's view of Gouyave

My lazy Sunday was especially lazy. But I did take an hour out of the day to go explore and climb around Fort Matthew. I had the whole Fort to myself, probably because the gate is locked like always, shhhh. The Fort is super cool, I don't know why they Ministry of Tourism keeps it closed. They had a project a while back to restore it and make it into a tourist hot spot, but apparently they stopped half way through, it has a lot of potential, but for now it's my little ghost town I get to go run around in. I'll make sure to take pictures if I go again. The only problem is that is is easy to see a white guy with his shirt off climbing around on the top of a hill. Plus, using an ant hill as a hand hold isn't fun for anyone. At night, I was busy watching some episodes of Parks and Rec minding my own business when my neighbors showed up at 8pm. It had been a while since I got to play with all of them so we went up to the road to lime. They wanted to race me so I humored them. FYI, racing a bunch of children after eating dinner and red wine is not encouraged. The little boy always cracks me up, he is always asking for things. I don't mind giving him duct tape to fix his kite, or glasses of water. But he always tells me to go buy him a PSP or when it is his birthday that he wants a bike. Me and my PC stipend having only enough to buy food, like the fresh mangoes the grocery store has started carrying (which he also wants me to give him claiming he has never eaten one before...). And besides, if I have enough to buy a bike you better believe I'm buying myself one, everyone knows how much I like to bike.

I learned today that I get to sit in on an all day training session on May 18, super sweet... I also learned that although putting bananas in the freezer gets rid of fruit flies, if you forget they are in there then your bananas are ruined. Which brings me to my next point. I am declaring Marshall Law on all the ants, weavels, fruit flies, flies, millipedes, spiders and whatever god forsaken insects manage to find a way into my apartment. Screw the Geneva Convention, I'm straight going genocidal on their asses. PC stipend willing, I plan to buy copious amounts of insect traps/repellents/killers/stds until my home is a bug free zone. I may even purchase one of those Navy Seal dogs that went postal on Bin Laden's face. Maybe I'll entice my neighbors with the ol "I'll give you 5cents for every bug you kill". Child labor shmild labor, it's only a crime if they lose a limb. And in the event that they are bitten by something I've seen enough Man vs Wild episodes to know what to do. Usually the solution is drinking your own piss. And as my fraternity brothers will be quick to point out, I have accidentally done that before. But that's neither here nor there...

Brice