First I want to thank you all for following my blog. It made me nervous to start this blog but maintaining it became a nice way to share my insights and release frustrations. As you have likely noticed, I have lagged a bit on posting this last entry. Here it is.

Macchu Pichu did prove to be a great last adventure (prior to the endless last bit of travel). I woke up at 3:30 am and set out with two Mexicans, one Dane, two Dutch women and an Israeli couple. We picked up a solo American on the way to the Inca steps and were on our way. It was HARD!!! We had to leave early in order to get to Macchu Pichu in time for sunrise and to have the opportunity to climb Huayna Pichu (the other mountain you'll see in most Macchu Pichu pics. Stair after stair afters stair, the air got thinner and our need for it grew greater. Our group split up into smaller groups as paces set us apart and I was at the front with the Mexicans, the Dane and my fellow American (he didn't represent well by only bringing a bottle of Coca Cola to drink).

Every time we stopped for a breather with screaming lungs, we would catch our breath quickly, only to lose it again a few steps into the next ascent. In an hour, we had cranked through the hike for which we'd be told to allow ninety minutes. We kept joking with each other that we were killing ourselves at this pace and at such an early time only to earn the right to hike up another mountain!!

The effort was worth it all around. The sunrise took my remaining breath away. I was cold and exhausted but loved every moment I was there. We were allowed into Macchu Pichu at 6am and were greeted my Llamas as they fed on the manicured law terraces. We were given an official tour (my hiking buddies were in the Spanish tour, I in the English) and after getting some history, I was ushered to Huayna Pichu with my two Dutch hiking buddies. Huayna Pichu was shorter but much steeper, soaking me with sweat again and making my lungs scream for the even thinner air. An hour or so of relaxing at 7,000 feet allowed for only a bit of time to explore Macchu Pichu before having to join a bus back to Aguas Calientes and another 7 hours back to Cuzco.

I left Cuzco the following day on a 22 hours bus to Lima where I sat 6 hours in the airport before a 5 hour flight, another 4 hour layover before a 4 hour flight, a 3 hour wait and an 8 hour drive from LA to SF. About 48 hours of travel later, I was home!!!

Now that I am home, I can't help but notice what has stayed with me. I still love every hot shower, every cold drink and every comfortable night in my own bed. I have seen a pair of women making out at a Giants game, a man screaming/preaching about his 57,000,000,000 sons named Revenge until the police took him off the bus. I have had many burritos and watched many baseball games. I am poor in dollars but rich in experience, two truths that are not always evident from the outside. Dipping into my closet of dress shirts and slacks has me wearing clean clothes every day. I blend in on public transportation like I did before I left. I can't help but think how many other people I pass on the street or sit next to on the bus may have similar life altering experiences hidden away.

The observations and insights that I love to share on this blog have not made me any more talkative in person. The experience is inside, in pictures and in my blog entries but when asked "What was it like?" or "What was your favorite part?" I tend to draw a blank. There is SO much that I can't call upon on a whim that will have to come up throughout the upcoming years. I look forward to trolling over these blog entries for the first time as a way to remind me of what I've done. I have done my best to stay in the moment, enjoying each day and leaving the next day open.

One great way to work my way back into American culture has been working at Sunset Cooperative Nursery School. Whether they are slung across their mother's back or transfered from expensive crib to carseat to stroller, 2, 3 and 4 year old kids are fun and brutally honest around the world. I also got to share in my Mom's 60th birthday celebration, enjoying an experience that rivaled any from my trip.

I may write another entry or two as I get used to being back home. I am still not used to being in American culture but I am really enjoying it. I will definitely add many pictures. I am having a hard time with them at the moment.

Love to all!

In a few short days, I will be boarding a flight from Lima to Los Angeles via Mexico City. My sisters Megan and Martha will pick me up at LAX and the three of us will share the last leg of my journey. To ensure that the journey comes full circle, we will make at least one stop at In 'n Out burger as we did when the three of us went to SFO on August 15, 2007.

For now, I am enjoying the thin air of beautiful Cuzco. I spent my first night here at Loki Backpackers Hostel, a place recommended by a guide book. This place is pretty wild! If one wants to feel as though they are back in college and not in a Spanish speaking country, this is the place. The first night had pub trivia, one of my favorite ways to combine beer and brains. The next morning, I thought I would save a bit of money and energy by moving down the road to a cheaper, slower paced hostel.

Though Loki is as touristy as can be, it has the best assortment of volunteer opportunities of any hostel I´ve come across so far. Though not staying there, I was able to sign up for a day of manual labor in the sacred valley. Many people pay for tours of this valley, I paid for transport and to lug adobe bricks onto and off of a truck. Last year, hundreds of families lost their homes and livelihoods when Cuzco was ravaged by a flood. I am embarrassed to say that I didn´t make the connection between Macchu Picchu´s flood based closure to flooding around the area.

Eight volunteers signed up for the day and we took a ninety minute ride into the beautiful sacred valley. We were told that we would be helping to build a guinea pig enclosure as a way to offer income generating activities to the community. We didn´t know that the bricks were at least 30 lbs. each and we would fill and empty a large flatbed truck three times. I was one of four men to volunteer and two of the others suffer from lower back troubles. Taking one for the team, I was either standing behind the truck, holding bricks at shoulder height for people to easily load the truck or I was on the truck, bent over, receiving the bricks and stacking them in place. At least 800 bricks later, we were all dust covered and exhausted. My lower back muscles and hamstrings are still screaming at me but also letting my know that I was using muscles rather than vertebrae for the work.

Yesterday, I volunteered again, this time at a school for disadvantaged children. I was the only volunteer this time (late nights and early morning volunteering don´t always agree) and joined the two volunteer coordinators. We went to the greatest playground I have ever seen and I was immediately paired up with a little gordito. The playground was equiped with several slides of at least 50 feet, mini-carousels, swings, a trampoline and more. My little guy Fabricio was all about the slide so I spent much of the time climbing stairs and pulling myself down the slide (jeans and a little guy on the lap didn´t allow for fast sliding). Fabricio spent at least thirty minutes longer with his lunch and only got a few minutes of kneeling on the trampoline before the day was over. He had a huge smile on his face when slowly sliding and while kneeling on the trampoline so I felt like a successful play partner.

When I got back from volunteering, I had an e-mail from my waitlist manager at Michigan. Her message said that she tried calling me earlier in the week but couldn´t get through so could I please e-mail her back so we could talk about a few things.

Two days prior, about twenty people posted messages to an MBA board about being admitted off the waitlist at Ross (the name of Michigan´s business school). I was confident about my chances but after getting no news felt sure that I was out of luck.

Having a San Francisco phone number as my contact information definitely didn´t help matters but after three pay phone calls and a few e-mails I was able to get in touch with the member of admissions. After ten minutes of answering questions about why I want to attend Ross, where it stands on my list of prospective schools and other questions similar to those I answered during my Mumbai interview, I was invited to join the class of 2012. I happily accepted and will be headed to Ann Arbor this fall. What a relief after applying from the road, piecing together my application and speculating endlessly, I am in!! I withdrew from Duke´s waitlist and now will head home with the next chapter sorted. Tomorrow, I will head up to Macchu Picchu!

Love to all!

I am feeling back to my normal self again and have been thoroughly enjoying Peru. For five dollars a night, I have had my own room with a hot shower and cable TV. Most of the television is in spanish but I have managed to catch some NBA playoffs, great tennis and a baseball game.

It may sound as though I am spending a lot of time watching TV. I am spending much more time in front of the TV than I have in the last two and a half years but not too much. However, I do feel that it is more of a chore filling my days.

Arequipa and Puno (where I am now) have been great but unless I want to break the bank for ice axes and crampons, I will not be doing any hiking in the area. Arequipa is surrounded by several 6,000 meter peaks, offering a gorgeous backdrop in most directions. Puno is right on Lake Titicaca, a lake that sticks out in my mind for immature young boy reasons. Some touristy island trips are available here but I think that I will pass. There are cultures on various islands that survive predominantly on tourist dollars by keeping themselves from developing. One island survived the Incas and other warring neighbors by building everything out of the buoyant reeds in the area. Now, they still make everything out of reeds in order to draw tourists. I am sure there are beautiful crafts and homes but I will pass this time around.

I will head to Cuzco in two days I think. I have really enjoyed walking around Puno, admiring the Quechua women and adorable kids. I have been here for two full days and each day, I stumbled upon a street market and a cement soccer match. Saturday reminded me of beer league softball in the states as two teams of men in their 40s, 50s and 60s donned full uniforms and brought full competitive spirit to an outdoor basketball court. I helped a tourism student with his english while enjoying the matches.

Today presented a pair of matches made up of more youthful teams. Old men sat in the stands with beers and a cute young girl gnawed on what appeared to be a pig hip-bone next to me. I get stared at more than talked to but I am enjoying myself.

It is strange how I seek out the less touristy areas but miss company when I arrive. Cuzco is sure to provide company and incredible sites. I am looking forward to it!!

Love to all!

I emailed my mom yesterday thinking (and hoping) that I wouldn´t have internet access today. Since I am here, I can with another Happy Mother´s Day to my mom and to every other mom reading.

I got to San Pedro de Atacama with the hope of seeing salt flats and getting back in the travel groove. I did both and was only dissatisfied with the salt flats. My first full day, I started by wandering out the front door of the hostel, expecting to get a lay of the land and avoid organized tours. 5 hours later, I returned with a pretty good sunburn, about 7 miles on the internal odometer and some tired legs. I ended up walking to an archeological site, visiting ruins from an old military settlement that was destroyed over 500 years ago. The ruins were interesting but the view was what made it. San Pedro de Atacama, as I mentioned, is in the driest desert in the world. 3 days prior to my arrival, the town got a deluge of rain, dusting the surrounding mountains and volcanoes with snow. The site had two paths, one giving a gorgeous view of the mountains, the other giving a breathtaking view of death valley (named due to mistranslation rather than any real death, it was supposed to be earth valley to match the nearby Valle de la Luna) with visible layers of ash, salt and rock from millions of years back.

When I got back from my hike, I kept with my original plan to join a tour (can´t avoid them all) to the Valle de la Luna for sunset. The tour took our group to view death valley from the side opposite where I had already been. We went from there to another viewpoint, this one with what the guide called a Wile e Coyote rock. The overhanging rock offered maybe a thirty foot drop but was laid in front of a valley hundreds of feet below, offering frightening but not terribly unsafe photo ops.

Our next stop was to an intimidating enclave where we sat in silence as the sun started to go down. The hollow salt structures around us began to ping and crack as they cooled, offering a bizarre but enchanting sound.

We stopped briefly at Tres Marias, a trio of natural stone pillars. We only got to see two unfortnately because a French tourist toppled the third after climbing it for a photo opp.

The final stop was Valle de la Luna where we had to trek up maybe 200 yard of sand dune before gaining the proper point of view. Many tour groups were assembled (apparently far fewer than during peak season) which took some of the wonder out of it but still offered amazing views.

The next morning, I literally followed my gut and joined an 11 hour bus south to Salta, Argentina. I wanted steak and wine and was too close to pass it up. If you look at a map, you will see that I have taken a rather circuitous route through the region but I am enjoying myself and seeing some great places.

Within an couple hours of disembarking, I led three Dutch travelers on an epic steak hunt. We walked back and forth before landing at a pricey but promising steak spot. At ten dollars, the steak was more than I expected but I had come a long way and would not be denied. I housed my 1.2 lb steak, enjoying a nice Cabernet alongside. To my dismay, two of my tablemates left huge portions behind. I talked during the meal about how great it would be to have steak for breakfast and lunch. When we were outside, I realized that they had not gotten takeaway containers and upon commenting was told that only Americans get doggies bags. Now I have not been able to defend all statements starting with "only Americans," but this was a different story.

I had steak the next night, washed it down with local tap water after asking for guidance and I spent the next twenty four hours in a serious disagreement with my stomach. Sleeping and sweating throughout. My fever got up to 103 and dropped to 97 so I feared Malaria. The following day, after some magical cipro, I was out of the woods and was even able to get a nice hike in. Slightly strenuous, the exercise and fresh air seemed to be just what I needed.

After the hike, I sorted out my bus ticket for this morning, bought some provisions for my 24 hour bus ride and managed to get to sleep as the rest of the hostel was going out to the bars. My alarm woke my just ten minutes after the last bar straggler and I made my 7am bus easily. 12 hours later, finally having conked out into deep sleep, I was woken up on Calama where I now sit with two more hours to kill before my connecting bus leaves for Arica. In my feverish stupor, I left my toiletry bag on the bus, adding to the string of good travel with bad peripherals.

Happy Mother´s Day once again!!

Love to all.

I am now in San Pedro de Atacama and rather than having to choose between reading and checking baseball scores or studying Spanish, I get to choose among salt flats, the moon valley, geysers and flamingos. Much more like it!

The ride from Antofagasta was beautiful and comfortable. Unfortunately, it was marred when the driver slammed on the brakes, causing an elderly man to fall and earn a gash on his head. I was quick with first aid equipment (I have carried it this whole time with no real need) but gauze and alcohol pads were not nearly enough and we ended up dropping him and his family at a hospital with a blood soaked shirt pressed to his calm, bald head.

Passing through the Atacama desert (the driest in the world) was consistently beautiful, getting moreso as we approached San Pedro de Atacama. Being around fellow travelers who speak english makes me very happy!! I can cook for myself and see the beauty of Chile rather than staying in a seedy rundown hostel in the city, surrounded by bars and strip clubs. Much better!!

Love to all (even the guy who stole my ipod, I had a good run with it)

I´m not sure if that title actually makes sense in Spanish. What I do know is that my ipod was stolen from within a foot of me within the last hour and it feels awful. I´ll get to that

My first two nights in Santiago were nice if a bit off due to jetlag. My second night was spent with a pair of girls who contacted me through couchsurfing.com. We sat, drank pisco (a local liquor) and chatted, trading stories about travel and asking questions about culture etc.

Feeling the rush of my schedule, I left and decided rather than head into Argentina with some of the folks I met at the hostel, I would work my way north to ensure that I gave Chile its due. Not much to see so far. I spent two nights in La Serena. The town was beautiful with 27 churches in a relatively small area. It was cold and I was one of a few tourists. I rested, read in the town center and caught up on rest.

I am now in Antofagasta for my third day. It´s the fourth largest city in Chile and up until the theft of my ipod has been pretty nice. I´ve spent a huge amount of time at the internet, watching baseball games and checking if my business school status has changed (it hasn´t). In La Serena and in Antofagasta, I have remained sated by eating completos pretty often. A completo is a hot dog covered in diced tomatoes and avocado and it´s cheap and very tasty. It may not be the healthiest of options but I know how to order it, I can afford it and I love the taste.

It has been a bit lonely traveling solo through towns without many tourists. My spanish is certainly improving but not enough to even explain that my ipod was taken. I guess I should explain that bit now.

The ipod that I´ve had throughout Peace Corps and through my travels around the world is now gone. I was charging it at my computer but saw that the computer was very slow. I unplugged it and plugged it into the computer next to me. I admit that I wasn´t paying close attention but it was within one foot of my hand. The only person to use the computer was a child of around ten years old. He was playing computer games and when he got up to leave, he asked me if the headphones next to his keyboard were mine. The headphones yes, the ipod and cord, gone. What an awful feeling!! BAH!!

From here, I will travel to San Pedro de Atacama where I can see the salt flats. The more famous salt flats are just across the border in Bolivia but rather than pay the 135 dollar reciprocity fee, I will see those that I´ve already paid for. From northern Chile I will head into Peru. I have looked into WWOOFing with the hope of working on organic farms. I haven´t gotten a reply. There is a registration fee but after registering in India and getting no response, I thought I would try the other way around.

Now I´ll watch the rest of the Giants game unfold and think of how to release the anger about my ipod. This has been my sole companion of late with games, spanish lessons and 13,000 songs that I compiled along my travels. Awful.

Love to all (except for whomever stole my ipod)

Ira

Tan and relaxed, Cheri and I met up in the Auckland airport and soon after were headed to the home of her old camp friend Matt. We dropped off our things and went out for dinner at a nice pub. I felt right at home at a table of folks in their early thirties chatting about work while enjoying some nice microbrews. The baby steps continue from West African culture towards the American culture I´ll tackle in just over a month. Having heard so much about camp throughout our relationship, it was nice to see Cheri in her element with a fellow camp counselors.

On our first full day in New Zealand, Cheri and I took a bus to Lake Taupo. Rather than hitchiking as everyone had suggested, we used the transport as a means of relaxation in addition to transportation. Once in Taupo, we sorted ourselves out in hostel, loaded up on groceries and wandered a bit.

In order to get a deal on bungee jumping the next day, we had to get our jump done before 11am. As we were booking, we discussed the idea of sky diving as well and were told that we had better get the sky dive in ASAP if we wanted to be clear of potential weather obstacles. Instead of rushing off to jump off an eithty meter high platform, we had an hour to kill before being picked up to jump 15,000 feet out of an airplane!!

Though nervous, I was more excited than anything as the time approached. We suited up, met our tandem guides and were soon on a small plane, climbing quickly and being updated on elevation. When the time came, three other sky divers were led through the plane door before my tandem guy and I slid across the bench and to the door. I tucked my legs below the plane, grabbed my harness and leaned my head back on his shoulder. A minute later, we were spinning our way down with the suppport of a nice, fully functioning parachute. My face and hands were freezing but otherwise I was pretty unimpressed. I was definitely nervous as I approached the open door of the plane but after that, I was falling, a stabilizing chute went out and then the main chute went out. I didn´t have to think or act and because of this, the experience flew by.

The next day, we made our early jump time at the bungee site. Once checked in, we decided to watch a few people jump before taking the plunge ourselves. When we got to the viewing platform, a man was ready to jump. At least ten minutes later, the same man had his hands pried from the handrails and was led away from the jump area. He couldn´t do it and his father (standing next to us filming) wasn´t going to let him live it down. We watched a young woman jump and we joined the line.

Cheri went first and after asking about doing flips and swan dives, was told that simply tipping over the edge is the best for your first jump. You get a better free fall and will be in better control. Cheri had a good scream and was totally soaked in the river. I was mostly calm up until my turn to walk to the ledge. Three people checked on the bungee and harness before giving the OK (nice and thorough) and then I walked to the edge with a heavy cord hanging from feet that were restricted as though my shoes had been tied together. 1, 2, 3 Bungee was all I needed to tip forward, spread my arms back and fall. Though I gave the OK for a river dip, only an inch of my hair got wet. The highest peak of adrenaline over these two days was hands down the moment I decided to leave the platform. Some bungee employees broke it down by saying that 15,000 feet is totally surreal and the mind can´t comprehend what´s happening. 250 feet over a river is well within our grasp and our mind and body know that we should NOT fall from that height. I loved it!!

Cheri and I spent the rest of the day hiking around, sitting in thermal springs and swimming in ice cold, crystal clear water. We visited Huka falls and ate some apples and blackberries we found along the way.

Around the time we were bungee jumping and skydiving, I also had a deadline for graduate school and had to say an indefinite goodbye to Cheri. What struck me was how much more my body reacted to checking my waitlist status (still there) and saying goodbyes at Auckland airport (BOOO!!!!) than it did during either adventure sport. My guts get tangled and just stay that way as no answer is near or clear at the moment. Jumping out of a plane is easy to get psyched up for and fun to come down from. I guess it can be said that the reaction I have to these points in life suggest that I´m taking risks in life and putting myself out there. Hard but true.

Now I´m in Santiago. After a 10 plus hour flight, I landed four hours earlier than I left Auckland. I´m staying up until a reasonable time with hopes of getting my body back on track. A whole new adventure is coming but I´m going to take a day or two before rushing into it.

Love to all

When waiting in line at the US Embassy in Singapore, Cheri and I heard as several people in our same predicament were turned away and told to return the following day. Our visit to Indonesia had completely filled our respective passports and we were scheduled to fly to Australia the following day. We were called at 3pm, laid out the situation for the friendly embassy woman and we were told to come back in thirty minutes to receive our passports complete with extra pages. Thirty minutes rather than a full day? Not bad!

In Australia, Cheri and I rented a campervan. We drove to Byron Bay, hiked a surprisingly grueling Mt. Warning and enjoyed beach time and blending in. For the first time in months, we could walk down the street without drawing too much attention. We did get a few looks when be broke out shampoo, body wash and towels when using the showers at the beach. Though we could cook for ourselves, sleep when we wanted and go where we wanted, getting clean in the campervan required ingenuity. When returning the campervan, we broke the 10 hour drive into two parts. We got going early on the second day, went to a few "urban Koala sites" with no luck. The only stereotypically Australian animals we managed to see were a roadkill Kangaroo and a caged Koala. Too bad. After failing to spot Koala's we were on our way to Sydney again. Time was ticking away as traffic thickened and it seemed that we'd miss our deadline for returning the campervan. We called while in traffic, filled the tank, washed the van, packed up and got to the site twenty minutes late. Because we'd called and been friendly, we were allowed to stay late, clean up and avoid any late fees. We had seriously worried as the van involved a bit of financial splurging to begin with. Paying for an extra day for only twenty minutes' use sounded awful.

Now that we're in Fiji, it seems as though we're benefiting from kindness Karma. Everybody here is so frienly and inviting. We spent a few days in paradise on Mana Island. We enjoyed Kava (a local drink) and local singing, dancing and cooking while celebrating Cheri's 26th and our 2 1/2 year anniversary.

Tomorrow we fly to New Zealand where I hope to be able to upload some pictures of this gorgeous place. Unfortunately, our visit to Fiji coincided withe the Fiji Peace Corps close of service conference so again we missed out on seeing Peace Corps villages.

Maybe in Chile or Peru?

Love to all.

Meeting people along the path of our travels has really helped out of late. We were able to crash with Brett and Bonnie (met in Ghana) in Singapore, a couple from our Bollywood days in Sydney and a girl Laura whom I met in Budapest, also in Syndey. Being able to get a local view and a few homecooked meals along the way has been a real treat. Cutting costs in these expensive cities has also been a help.

Since Syndey, Cheri and I have been living in a hi-top camper van. We've driven ten hours to Byron Bay and have been cooking and sleeping in the van. We've actually gotten better sleep these past few days than we have in ages. Two couches in the back fold out into a firm double bed. We've been able to grocery shop and use the mini-fridge and propane stove for food. We're more free than we've been in a long time and no longer have to rush to catch long buses or worry about much of a timetable.

We'll be in Byron Bay until heading back through Sydney and on to Fiji. I can't believe we're going to Fiji!! I wrote a paper about Fiji back in 7th grade and have always thought it to be somewhat of a mythical place. We have been in touch with a few Peace Corps volunteers there and hope to get to see the village life there.

I'll update soon. For now, we're ducking away from a short rain storm before heading to the beach.

Love to all.

If you told me three days that I would take an uncomfortable overnight boat to a sketchy powerboat to a remote island where I'd get pounded by waves, cut my feet on reef and bow out after less than an hour. And if you told me that I would leave a few hours later to take the same powerboat to the same overnight boat and be completely satisfied by the experience, I may not believe it.

The Mentawai Islands are like surf Mecca to many. I didn't know this and when looking through guide books and on the internet, few specific places were mentioned. I had endured enough tourist swamped locations and didn't want to go to Bali so I went to the Mentawai Islands from Padang.

Shortly after disembarking, I called over two fellows with surfboards slung over their shoulders. They agreed to split the cost of the speedboat charter. After a small breakfast and some coffee, we were off. The pair of British guys had been traveling through Indonesia from surfspot to surfspot for 4 months and had 3 weeks left. One of them has been doing this for 5 years straight and is only 22 years old. I warned them that I was no good at surfing and that I could only stay one night. They picked up supplies for a week as there are no shops or markets on Nyangnyang where we were headed. An hour and a great downpour later, the boat was filled with groceries and we were on our way. Rain and sea spray soaked us within minutes but the narrow mangrove forrest route we took was worth it. A few close calls with other boats and dug-out canoes kept it exciting as we gradually made it to open water. We passed seaside homes and fishing boats and after just over an hour, we made it.

We offloaded the boat and instantly met a few other surfers who told us that the conditions were the worst they'd seen in their three weeks on the island. They planned to stay through September if possible.

After deliberating over which of the many surfspots to venture towards, we chose the closest. A twenty minute walk took us to the spot and it was time to paddle out. I have some experience on small waves on a buoyant and forgiving longboard leading to a soft beach break. This day, I was on a borrowed 6'6" board on large, powerful waves and ruthless reef break. A few strokes into paddling out I knew I was WAY out of my league. The four guys I was with took off with ease, powering along with the well formed back muscles they'd been using day in and day out. I quickly fell behind and after the 200 or so meters of paddling it took to go around the reef, I was already exhausted.

I took a breather and got a feel for where the waves were breaking but I was still quite gunshy. The guys around me were off and running, each with their share of good rides and wipeouts. I missed a few waves before finally getting the timing right but the ability all wrong and I got tossed. In the tumult, I lost hold of my board and re-surfaced to a scared and appropriately upset fellow surfer who'd almost been skewered by my board. Duck diving waves on the way back out, I was getting more and more fatigued and after not too long I called it in for the sake of everyone involved. I sat and enjoyed watching the others surf, getting no grief from them when the came in.

"They were terrible conditions, awful for learning. Like learning to ski on moguls."

"You're a legend for even making the effort to come for a day, I've been in Indo for 5 years and just made it."

Kind words even though I felt defeated. This is a place worth working up to. Take a look for yourselves. A video of a fellow UCSB Gaucho and his brothers. The conditions in the video are much better than when I was there but either way, I was way out of my element.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDG0PjCWyrE

I can only give a brief entry on the time spent in Vietnam but want to do so before it's too far in the past. A 30 hour "sleeper" bus brought us from Vang Vient go Hanoi. The sleeper consisted of an overcrowded bus with reclining seats that had foot cubbyholes. My feet only fit in the cubbyholes at certain angles and I was too tall for the seat but it was manageable.

I loved Hanoi instantly. Cheri and I decided not to go with the hawkers who boarded the bus immediately upon arrival. Instead, we wandered the street to find food and took a taxi to a hotel. We paid a bit more but got a better feel of the place.

The next morning, we took a bus to a boat to Ha Long Bay. The first stop made me nauseous. The geologically awesome cave filled with stalagmites and stalactites was turned into Disneyland Vietnam. We waited in line after line in order to work our way around crowds of people posing for photos, climbing over barriers and pushing through to get as many pictures of the purple and pink lighted cave.

It could only get better and it certainly did. A bit more time on the boat showed us the gorgeous landscape of jutting islands in calm water. Boatmen sold goods like you'd expect street hawkers to do. Boats filled with chips, drinks and fruit.

We were dropped off and because we were piecing our trip together, we didn't stay in the tour affiliated hotel. Instead, we paid 5 dollars between us for an ocean view, third floor room with a hot shower!!! So nice!!

We left Ha Long Bay to meet up with a couchsurfing connection. Not knowing what to expect, we were pleased to meet a Vietnamese business owner and her British NGO executive husband. We were treated well, got to relax and discussed our goals. On our last full day in Vietnam (much too short a trip) we aimed to go to a national park. I thought that we were spending too much time "doing things." I couldn't put it better but felt that Following tour books every day was keeping us from seeing the places we were visiting. Instead, we wandered around Hanoi and felt great. Aimless and care free how I like it.

Unfortunately, my ATM card was lost somewhere in Vietnam so I've been working to fix that situation. My saviors in Singapore helped me by using their address as my new mailing address and lending me cash for my Indonesia leg. Yesterday, however, I had only foreign currency on a Sunday. I had to use my passport as collateral at a hotel and wandered the HOT and HUMID Padang city hungry and useless. Today, a friendly bank assistant took me around on his moto, being sure to show me some of the destruction from last September's Earthquake. There are huge splits in the asphalt and destroyed buildings all around the city. A bit out of the loop regarding world news, I only remembered there being the huge earthquake in 2007. The language barrier kept me from learning too much before visiting Google this morning.

Now I hope to get a day on the Mentawai islands. I will try to surf if it's not too far out of my ability level.

Love to all!!

I am now in Padang, on Sumatra in Indonesia. It is dumping rain and the local transport (small van with colored lights and blaring music) dropped me off where I asked but now it doesn't seem to be where I want to be. I feel safe though tired. There haven't been too many days like this. Starting this long travel journey, I expected there to be more days with no proper communication, bad weather, exhaustion and confusion. Here it is!!

Just looking at March Madness and baseball news while the weather subsides.

Love to all.

After romping with Tigers and Elephants, riding a bamboo raft and visiting hill tribes, Megan, Cheri and I headed into Laos.

Before crossing the border, we met a fun couple that shared our path. A French woman and American man, the pair met while in Australia over a year ago and have traveled together on and off since.

An overnight bus took us to Luang Prabang, a nice slow, relaxing place in Laos. Megan only had a few hours before she had to head to the airport (an overnight bus and a new Visa just to catch a flight due to a change in plans) so Cheri and I teamed up with the other couple.

On our first full day together, the four of us hired a tuk tuk and traveled to some nearby waterfalls. You may think the same thing that I did... more waterfalls? Somehow they just don't get old. This set-up was one in which we got to see the Laos countryside before visiting a bear refuge and finally visiting a series of waterfalls. Hours of hiking, sweating and feeling disappointed finally found us at a sign that read "Do not swimming." So we went ahead and checked it out.

This place may have been the inspiration for the infinity pool. Waterfalls ranging from four feet to well over forty feet fed into a surprisingly calm pool perfect for swimming. The edge of this pool led to a drop of nearly ten stories but the water was shallow enough to allow one to walk up and look over the edge the the waterfall below.

A few days later, in Vang Vieng, Cheri and I joined the couple for a day of rock climbing. Having climbed man made climbing walls only a few times in my life, I was by far the least experienced of our group. I learned a great deal but relied too much on upper body strength and was totally drained for the last two climbs. Feeling the wonderful fatigue of a day well spent, we cooled off by taking a huge zip line into the nearby river.

The following day, we all did was most travelers in Vang Vieng choose to do. We went "tubing." We had heard that the water level was too low to actually need a tube so we took advantage of free shots and plenty of hugs swings and zip lines into the river. A few years ago, I think that I may have been more interested in the free shots than the activities but the adrenaline was enough of a buzz for me. St. Patricks Day was the following day and sticking to our budget, Cheri and I went bar hopping in a way that allowed a free drink at each bar. Maybe I'm old or maybe I'm more comfortable with myself but I was ready to call it in early rather than wait for the sun to chase me to bed.

I still need to update my time in Vietnam. This will teach me to procrastinate while traveling. More to come.

Love to all. I'm in Singapore again before heading to Indonesia solo tomorrow. Enjoy March Madness!!!

Internet is crazy expensive here in Vang Vieng, Laos. The town is full of people aiming to get drunk and float down a river on inner tubes (but the river is too low so they walk). Instead, Cheri and I did some great rock climbing yesterday with another couple we met during our travels. It was an exhausting but excellent day.

Much of this region is based around the Mekong but due to Chinese dams, the river is incredibly low. Slow boats that are a hit with tourists are not running and drunk tubers become drunk walkers.

I will update more when I have cheaper internet access.

In the B-school world, no decisions will be made until waitlist situations are sorted out. The wait continues.

Love to all.

With business school responses slowly approaching, I have managed to fill my days to the brim, keeping my mind at bay as much as possible.

Thanks to forethought and planning my Cheri's sister Carrie, four of us (two sib pairs) woke early after a day of temples, markets and relaxing at a 5 star hotel (feels like 95 stars after backpacking and Ghana).

Our tour guide Tong approached with more energy than the four of us combined and had me thinking that the day might be too much. We were briefed on the plan for the day and Tong repeatedly told us that if we were to get the most out of the day, we would have to follow her lead without question. We started with a visit to a local Bangkok market that stretches across train tracks. Each stall has tables on wheels to make for easy and quick motion when the train comes. We say pig tails, fish sauce, blue crabs and many other things for sale but didn't have much time to linger as there was more to do.

Our next stop was the floating market. Touristy but beautiful, we floated in a long boat among other boats full of tourists. We ate great Thai noodles, drank iced coffee from a bag and admired the merchants when not haggling for goods. We shopped a bit but had to keep moving if we were to arrive at the Tiger temple at the ideal time.

A bit more than an hour in the car and we arrived at the Tiger temple. Tong dispelled rumors of Tiger drugging but agreed with criticisms of the overall layout of the temple. The Tigers are well taken care of but live in an environment far different from their natural habitat. After getting the run down, it was time to "get happy." at the gender appropriate restroom and get ready to see some tigers. Though many other tourists were milling around the entrance, our group of four was the first to enter. We were the first to be signed up to feed baby tigers and we were the first to take photos with the big tigers.

The experience was above and beyond my hopes. I first heard of the Tiger temple five years ago when a college friend had the experience. I thought that it would be closed before I had the opportunity so when I was kneeling behind 500 lb tigers nad feeding a 4 month old out of a baby bottle, I was elated. We started by walking up behind full grown tigers and having photos taken. We did this for a bit and as our adrenaline started to slow a bit, it was time to feed the babies. We went into a caged in play area of maybe 25' x 20' with three baby tigers, three workers and the four of us. We were told that we should never turn our backs on the tigers but once in there, I followed a cute 2 month old, trying to get her to play with me. Almost immediately, the vivacious 4 month old leapt onto my back, ripping my shirt and instantly proving herself my favorite. We spent nearly an hour playing with the tigers (not dissimilar to playing with big, bumbling puppies) before we got to settle down and feed them. Paws the size of small fists rested on our laps as the playful tiger cubs settled down into feeding mode. It was a great experience to share with Megan as she and I fed the fun 4 month old.

We took a few more photos with full grown tigers before rushing off to ride elephants. Seriously, we went from feeding baby tigers to riding bareback on large African elephants. Tong handed us each bundles of bananas and told us to bribe our elephants before our ride. We could put the bananas (one at a time or in bunches) in the end of the trunk or directly on the huge slimy tongue. We fed each of our two elephants around fifty bananas apiece before climbing aboard. Tong warned us that we would be brought into the water and shaken off by the playful performers. If we didn't fight to stay on, the elephants might think that they were doing a bad job and be sad. When we got into the water, sitting on the bare back of a beautiful beast, the shaking did not start. Our elephant simply knelt down with her head below water. It was hard enough to hold on at such an extreme angle while laughing as Carrie and Cheri were sprayed repeatedly by their elephant. The next hour exhausted us all as we climbed aboard and were summarily launched into mud and dung filled water. We could hang onto ears, handfuls of skin or anything else we could grasp but seldom were we able to hang on for long. On our way back to Bangkok, we discussed our arrogance in thinking that we could possibly hang on when the elephant really wanted us off. The weight disparity is roughly that of a newborn baby to a man my size. While I would never throw a newborn baby into a lake full of elephant dung, I know that if I really, really wanted to, I could do it.

Exhausted, we finished our tour walking along the bridge over the river Kwai. The bridge and the history that surrounds it gave a new perspective on the region to say the least. We spent only a brief time at the railroad bridge before settling in at our riverside guesthouse and getting hour long Thai massages.

The following day, we hiked to seven water falls at Erawan falls. Monkeys played on branches above us and fish ate the dead skin off of our toes when we went for the occasional dip (no need to pay at the spa). The views were gorgeous and the water felt good on our tired, aching muscles.

Carrie has since gone back to the states while Cheri, Megan and I have traveled (by 17 hour train) to Chang Mai. We trekked to see hill tribes, swim in water falls, take a bamboo raft trip and ride elephants again. I had the joy of being nuzzled by a 5 month old elephant baby this morning. Hoping to get a good photo, I walked closer that initially felt comfortable with a mother so close. After some time, the baby turned and walked a a fairly fast pace right up to me and rubbed against my leg like a 220 lb. kitten. Oddly, when planning the trek, we discussed the fact that we had alrady ridden elephants and seen water falls. Neither seem to get old, I must say. I love today. Now I have a matter of hour to wait before hearing form b-schools. We shall see what happens but the wait has been easier on elephant back than it ever would have been in a cubicle. I am thankful for that.

Love to all.

My five days on Perhentian Island were much needed and very much enjoyed. After cranking through the scuba course, I took a day to walk to to a gorgeous beach. Having seen the beach from one of my dives, I thought that the walk would be easy. Over an hour of climbing rocks in my sandals in the mid-day sun proved otherwise but left me on a white sand beach all on my own. Soaked in sweat, I read in the shade and enjoyed the solitude and rest, taking occasional dips in the clear blue water.

Too tired to take the rock route back, I walked through the jungle, dodging massive spiders but making much better time with a nice cover of shade. On my last day on the Perhentians, I took a snorkeling trip. The first stop had us swimming with Black Tipped Reef Sharks. Our second stop had us swimming among thousands of brightly colored fish. Our guide would give us a small nibble of bread and in minutes it would be ripped apart by out tiny swimming companions. Our third stop was all about sea turtles. It wasn't quite the same as the others however. The water wasn't as clear and the turtles were FAST. The boat would circle around until a turtle was spotted and tourists from three tour boats would jump in and give chase. One chase was enough for me and I stayed in the boat to keep my pinched feet out of my too tight fins. Stop four brought us to a light house. We took turns jumping 35 feet from the top into the ripping current below. The spot was beautiful but it took serious energy just to swim in place. One jump from the lighthouse pulled my bauxite bracelet from my wrist and sent it to the coral below. The Arabian Sea stole my ring and the South China Sea has my bracelet. The experience is worth the trade but it's still a bummer.

A boat to a bus to another bus to a 22 hour train to a took took brought me to the super fancy hotel at which I'm writing this entry. A hung out for a few hours before Megan arrived. We've had a great time wandering and enjoying an early celebration of her birthday. We are sorting out plans for the rest of the day and the days to come. We will meet Cheri and her sister tomorrow and then go to bathe tigers and ride elephants shortly thereafter. Sharks, sea turtles, tigers and elephants are helping me stay pre-occupied as my business school dates approach. One and two weeks from response deadlines from Duke and Michigan respectively. Eek!!

Love to all.

I left India with a wide variety of new experiences under my belt. I loved the country (many travelers either love it or hate it) but was ready for the next leg.

Traveling solo again, I flew to Singapore and met two Ghana RPCVs from a few years before my own service. Cheri met the couple in December and they offered a place to stay. I didn't know what to expect but met thepair and their Siberian huskie at a mall on the very efficient MRT line. They brought me to their house and right up to the 24th floor. The elevator opened to a beautiful house, covered by a nice ex-pat work package. It was a very nice place to relax (especially in an expensive city).

I spent two days reading, hanging out by the pool and relaxing. I did laundry in a machine (shrunk some trousers in the dryer) and the three of us went to a Chinese New Year parade. I learned the different routes around their neighborhood. We seldom went outside, walking in air conditioned malls and hospitals instead of enduring the heat and humidity. Though strict, and likely because it's strict, Singapore seems to be a nice place to live. The city is clean and safe. There are signs for $500 fines for drinking water on the subway or $1000 for riding your bicycle where you shouldn't. I learned that when getting caned, you can choose the long cane, getting bigger scars but less immediate pain or the short cane, getting smaller scars but far greater pain. I am happy that I don't have to choose.

From Singapore, I took the MRT to a bus, across the Malaysian border to an overnight train. The train put Indian trains to shame, I had a small mattress, a pillow, a sheet and a curtain to close out the light. I slept great!! I woke up, got a taxi, got on a speedboat and came to paradise.

Feeling antisocial, I threw in my ipod while on the speedboat. The combination of warm air, good music, high speed and surrounding smiles made me feel really great. I had a smile on my face the whole time.

On Perhentian Island in the South China Sea, I have seen 6 foot lizards, massive spiders and beautiful surrounds. I'm on my third day of scuba certification today. I spent a total of ninety minutes under water yesterday, learning what to do when I lose my regulator, when I run out of air, when I lose my mask etc. It's really great and I'm looking forward to the day. I will meet Megan in Bangkok on Feb. 28. Until then, I'm chillin here.

Love to all.

Having slept on a luxury overnight bus from Goa to Mumbai, Cheri and I were immediately latched onto by a persistent taxi driver. Insisting that we didn't want a taxi, we lugged our bags back and forth on the sidewalk while figuring out where to go. The bus told us that we were being let off at the closest stop to Colaba yet those around us were telling us that we were 25km away from Colaba.

A friendly young onlooker removed his headphones and decided to help us, enduring the subsequent scorn from our leach of a cabbie. We got in a taxi, got to Colaba and paid less than half of the original quoted price.

We had read in our guidebook that hanging around Colaba is a good way to land a gig as an extra in a Bollywood film. We didn't know where we were supposed to hang out but didn't need to worry about is as we were approached before getting our bags out of the taxi. Two more approaches during the day made it apparent that any young westerner would be approached as long as they left their hostel.

Conflicting schedules meant that Cheri and I would go as extras on different days. I had business school interviews Tuesday and Thursday while Cheri flew to Delhi on Wednesday.

I got back from what I felt was a better than average interview and rested for most of the remaining day. Cheri came back after a 14 hour day with stories of her red sequined bartending outfit from her day on set. The next morning, I rushed around, trying to get packed and moved into a new room while saying goodbye to Cheri before getting to a meeting point around 7:15am. Ready to give up on Bollywood, things came together at the last minute and I was off to my big pay day of 500 rupees (about 11 US dollars).

Most of the day consisted of sitting around in odd costumes. I was in a ripply burgundy silk shirt with a huge collar while others were in odd vests, short skirts and more. The group of 40 plus extras varied from 19 year old bearded Swedish hippies to petite girls you might think would be Hollywood extras or actresses. We sat, were fed, jumped around for 20 second takes as four of Bollywoods biggest stars romped around on top of a bar. I sat in the background as a choreographed dance roared around me. For the last scene, I had to dance on a stairway next to a 5'3" Swedish guy and a baby faced Finnish dude. I feel self conscious dancing with a girl while drunk in a dark bar so dancing under bright lights with dudes on stairs while wearing a floofy shirt with a camera rolling was a bit outside my comfort zone. Many takes were needed and a lot of attention was paid to my area of the shot. The director and her assistants kept asking for energy and at one point yelled "the white guys just can't move!" which I hope referred to the spastic redhead on a platform behind me and not to myself.

It turned out to be a great day and more than half of us went out for a beer afterward. We had people from Estonia, Finland, Sweden, Holland, Germany, Austria and the US chatting over beers and travel stories in a restaurant that had me dragging my ear on the short ceiling.

Today, I came back from my final interview with no travel companion, no business school work to do and no more dancing. I fly to Singapore tomorrow and will wait the next few weeks for replies from business school.

On to the next leg.

Love to all!

First pictures in a while. From Goa and Mumbai. My new suit in the hostel hallway

Udaipur offered more relaxation than I knew I needed. At no point in our trip were we not negotiating plans in order to mak a specified train time. Sure, we missed some of those train times but we have been working with some cushion. In Udaipur, we got to rest on that cushion.

On the morning of our first full day in Udaipur, we attended an 8:30am yoga class near our hostel. We met a nice fellow American after class and he told us about an amazing Swami who held an evening yoga class overlooking the beautiful lake. We made it to the class, had another 90 minutes of great stretching and awe led by Swami Sudhir (look him up on YouTube.

The next day, we went to Swami Sudhir for morning and evening sessions, stopping to have my measurements taken for new suit between.

After three full, wonderful days in Udaipur, we left more limber, more rested and with me carrying a great suit. We spent a night in Ahmedabad without being much impressed and then we boarded our 20 hour train to Goa!

We bought tickets ten days in advance yet had to share one sleeper berth. The trip was relatively uneventful. We managed to steal naps in berths while they were unoccupied and when the time came, we squeezed into our shared birth as others slept on newspaper beds and strewn across aisles. I felt lucky and surprisingly well rested when we arrived to the gorgeous state of Goa a bit after 6am.

Once we were finally able to check into our hostel, we headed to the beach and stayed at the beach. A nice Indian dinner and a nice sleep got us back to normal. Unfortunately, when I took a quick dip in the Arabian Sea, the ring that I've worn non-stop for over six and a half years left me. I found a similar ring at a Tibetan art fair but it's definitely not the same.

Today, Cheri and I rented a scooter and drove 30km to a spice plantation. We got a tour from a charismatic guide, learning about various spices that nobody could guess from seeing them in plant form. Even a good whiff kept us stumped in certain situations. I haven't driven a scooter since my days in Newport in 2005 but it came back pretty fast. Newport had nowhere near the number of huge trucks passing on two lane highways though. This trip was INTENSE!! I was cautious and conservative but couldn't help but feel a little rattled at times.

After making it through the 'Accident Prone Zone' areas we actually ran out of gas. It was my own fault as I inaccurately figured how long we would have with our non-functioning fuel gauge. Within minutes, Cheri was getting help on one side of the road while I had offers for help next to the scooter. One motorist gave us a few ounces of petrol so that we could make it to the next station. Full of laughs and gratitude, we made it off the highway shoulder only minutes after two moto-riders slid into a median. I am happy to be away from the scary traffic.

We leave on an overnight bus for Mumbai tomorrow night. I will have a little over 24 hours to rest up before interviews at 11am and 3pm with Duke and Michigan business schools respectively. Fingers crossed. I only hope my words will sound as great as my new suit looks.

Love to all,

Arriving late in Allahabad, we were unable to book a train before the ticket office closed. Having had success with a waiting list ticket in Agra, we bought a ticket to Jaipur early the next morning and had a wander around. At the time of our train, we were still on the waiting list and would have to take our chances.

We boarded that 12pm train when it arrived at 1:35pm. With all of the bunks full, we felt out the situation and Cheri finally asked a friendly man about a seemingly empty bunk. The bunk turned out to be occupied but we were told that two people would be departing at the next stop and we would be able to take their bunks. We stashed our bags where space was available, we sat and we waited.

Within minutes, a little girl ten feet away began to poke her head out, disappearing at the slightest semblance of eye contact. This game continued for a while before the girl and her mother came over for an introduction. Apparently the girl had been telling her mother that a dee-dee (big sister) was sitting close and she wanted to shake hands. We joined the pair and sat with mother, father, 5 year old daughter and 2 year old son. We talked about life, religion, America, India, arranged marriages and more. Cheri and I were treated to cookies, chips, Indian food and of course great company.

With the train delay, we weren't scheduled to arrive until 2am. When the time came, we managed to get two berths (mine was not enclosed so I fit much better than last time).

Arriving in Jaipur a little after 2am, we learned that our preferred hostel was booked and we were ushered around by rickshaw until finding suitable accommodation. A few hours at a rooftop hookah bar and many hours wandering the gorgeous bazaars of the pink city allowed us to get our fill of Jaipur. We were off on another late night trip, this time to Pushkar.

We arrived in Pushkar at 1:30am and the first thing we saw was a man drawing a trailer full of hay by camel. The next thing was a mini stampede of a dozen cows. Soon, however, a nice young man brought us to his family guesthouse where we found very inexpensive accommodation for the remainder of the night.

Unsure about how long we would stay in Pushkar, Cheri and I left our hostel with the idea of getting bus times for Udaipur. On the way, we found a signboard for camel tours. Cheri stayed to sort out the camel tours while I continued to the bus station.

When leaving the bus station, I saw Cheri approaching on the back of a motorbike. I joined the motorbike and we settled on an overnight camel trip into a nearby village with our host Kalu. A few hours later, I boarded Ramjes with my ten year old guide Rahul behind me. Cheri boarded Krishna with Papa (I forget his real name) seated behind her. The view was great and the ride not terribly uncomfortable. Several children asked for school pens or rupees but for the most part we were left alone.

My guide Rahul spoke limited Enlish but repeatedly told me "you happy boss, me happy." When we approached tree limbs or plants, he would cautiously tell me "carepool sir, carepool, carepool, carepool." We had a playful game of debating who was the boss of whom with my insisting that he was in charge.

An added element to our trip was the fact that our two male camels were in heat. Without notice, they would explode with a loud gurgling sound (think of an exaggerated version of when your stomach tells you that you've eaten something terribly wrong) and their massive tongues would spew out from their closed mouths. It looked as though they were regurgitating their own stomachs but gave for a good laugh.

Upon arriving at Kalu's family home, we were greeted by grandmother, dog, dancing horse and many goats. After a short walk, several more family members arrived and Cheri and I each realized that we had been desperately craving family time. Watching Kalu's mother Santos prepare what turned out to be maybe the best meal of my life reminded me of Ghana. The joking nature and clear love shared among the family was a real treat and I hope to go back. An Australian business owner joined the group, explaining that she has stayed with Kalu and family for 4 years on and off when she comes for materials for her textile business. She was a clear member of the family and exacerbated the longing for Ghana. Cheri and I both loved and needed this night.

The next day, we walked the colorful, touristy main street of Pushkar before taking an overnight bus to Udaipur. The connecting bus from Pushkar to Ajmer had us picked up by a rickshaw but with no prior explanation, we felt a bit as though we were being abducted or led on a scam mission. Eventually we arrived at our correct bus and got to Udaipur this morning at 5am. I am taking a much needed rest/reorganization day while Cheri wanders the town.

More later.

Love to all

Ira

Varanasi certainly did not disappoint. Happy that we had daylight to get our bearings, Cheri and I checked into more of a backpacker hostel on day two. We were centrally located and surrounded by other travelers. After talking to many travelers from various locations (UK, Australia, Sweden) we realized that our one month jaunt is the shortest trip we've heard of. Travelers on their second of three months also wail about how much they will miss and how much there is to see in India. With less than three weeks, I feel that I have seen a lot without too much stress.

While in Varanasi, we wandered the labyrinthine streets while dodging cows, dogs, beggars, motorcycles, cow pies, monkeys, streams of betel nut/tobacco spit and processions of chanting men carrying a dead loved one on an orange shrouded stretcher. Our new hostel was a ten minute walk (once we stopped getting lost) from the main burning ghat. Fires are burning 24 hours per day and as many as 300 bodies will be burnt every day. This particular ghat burns only Hindus and all Brahman that want to be burned will be burned with the exception of children, pregnant women, holy men, sufferers of small pox, lepers and those who died by cobra bite. It is believed that these individuals are either blessed or pure and do not need the cleansing process provided by the burning. It takes three hours for a body to burn and it is a very strange experience to stand among ten pyres as bodies lay in various degrees of transformation. We went to visit this ghat each day but never stayed more than fifteen minutes or so. In our few visits, we saw a skull literally explode (does anyone know why this would happen) as it burned. We also saw one of the fire tenders try to move a body to help the burning process. He used a large bamboo pole to move the body and threw the bamboo pole aside when he finished. Almost instantly, two of Varanasi's countless dogs sidled up to gnaw the burnt flesh from the end of the bamboo. I am sorry to focus on the gruesome aspects as the process seems much more cathartic and happy than any funeral I have ever attended. The cremation process is a happy event as it is the end of the cycle of rebirth. Understandably, photos were not permitted during this process. Even when trying to take pictures from a great distance to give a sense of the layout, I got a good tongue lashing.

On January 30, we went for a sunrise boat ride on the Ganges. Having taken a free boat ride during the previous evening sunset, we had a sense of the area and it's beauty. January 30 was a festival day. We heard that it was a Punjab festival and we also heard that it was a Sikh festival so we weren't quite sure what to expect. Either way, we quickly saw the crowd that the festival provided. The ghats flowed with undulating colors as men, women and children ventured to the Ganga (local pronunciation). Sarees, orange flowers and the deep orange of sunrise made for a truly unbelievable start to the day. This hour long ride was riveting enough to allow the fatigue from our 5am wake-up to subside temporarily. The only other signs of a festival that we saw during the day were at a seemingly heated demonstration in the center of town. Men screamed into a megaphone and were echoed by an emphatic crowd. Wary, Cheri and I took a detour and a few blocks later saw a constant stream of stern looking police officers headed right where we had come from. No news spread of any trouble but I was happy to distance myself from the pulsating energy.

We are now in Allahabad, another holy city that drew 70,000,000 people to the confluence of the Ganges, Yamuna and Saraswati rivers for Kumbh Mela. We arrived one day after a smaller gathering of holy men and lugged our bags through a sea of bearded, painted holy men in all orange. Quite a sight indeed.

We intended to continue to Jaipur in Rajasthan today but we were unable to get a ticket departing before mid-day tomorrow. We will spend about a week in Rajashtan before heading south to see Mumbai and Goa.

Still great here!

Love to all.

Ira

Cheri and I got up early in order to reach the train station for our 7:10am train. We endured the swerving and halting of our auto- rickshaw on the way and arrived with plenty of time to spare. We quickly learned that our train had been fogged in and that the price had been refunded. No Taj Mahal that day. Unfortunately, that price was paid by hour hostel manager and was refunded to his online account. Unable to get an afternoon train, we spent an extra day relaxing in Delhi. We spent more of the next 24 hours asleep than we did awake so it seems to be a blessing in disguise.

When we made out train (only 30 minutes late arriving) we were excited to be only a night train from the Taj Mahal. Instead, we arrived 3 hours late, checked in to our hostel in the wee hours and got a late start in Agra. After walking to the Agra Fort and posing for countless photos with Indian children and full families (a common trend so far) we were headed to the Taj Mahal with plans to arrive around sunset. We arrived at around 5 and learned that we were 45 minutes from closing. Rather than feel rushed, we decided to wait another day.

Jan 26, 2010 was the 60th Indian Republic Day and we were headed to the Taj Mahal finally! After a trip to the Baby Taj (built before the Taj Mahal and entirely out of marble) we worked out way to the Taj Mahal at 3pm. Upon arriving at 4pm, we saw that the line was at least 100 yards long and moving slowly. With plenty to look at, Cheri and I waited (the women's line was non-existent, I was stuck in the men's line). Cheri headed in first and when I finally got inside, I saw her posing in photo after photo, getting pictures taken with every individual from a family of at least 8 people. Several hours of awe and crowds brought us through sunset and up until we were being kicked out at closing. The Taj Mahal is truly incredible. Seeing the marble change color as the sun continued to set was simply breathtaking.

That same night, we went to the Agra train station in time for our 11:30pm overnight train to Varanasi. The train arrived shortly after 2am and I promptly fell asleep in my triangular casket shaped berth. Close the the train ceiling, I had to wedge myself into the berth in such a way that by legs could bend (the berth was under 6 feet in length) and allow then to fit between the metal supports. Surprisingly, I fell asleep almost instantly and slept on and off until 1pm. Scheduled to arrive at 2pm, I felt great!! When the train emptied out and we began chatting with fellow travelers at around 4pm, we still had quite a way to go. With extra space and good conversation, the next several hours flew by and we arrived at 9pm, nearly 22 hours after we were scheduled to depart. Mice, cockroaches, food sellars and beggars frequented the train but all in all it was very enjoyable.

We're now in Varanasi and after a morning walking along the Ganges, seeing holy men, shrouded corpses and plenty of washing/bathing in the river, we are settled into our hostel, preparing for more to come from this Hindu holy land.

Love to all,

Ira

Amsterdam was a nice end to my European trip. With Cheri's arrival, I was able to break my habit of avoiding museums that cost any money. When I had two days on my own, I took a free walking tour and got a good sense of the city. When Cheri arrived, we walked all around Amsterdam, visiting the Anne Frank house, the Van Gogh Museum, the Heineken Experience and the Sex Museum. The Heineken Experience was the most expensive but included three free Heinekens. With the forgetfulness of the bartender and the generosity of fellow tour members, Cheri and I managed 5 ice cold Heinis and definitely got our moneys worth.

We wandered the red light district, trying to decide if we felt better for the women parading in front of their windows or those who were occupied behind a closed curtain. The free tour shared information that a window can cost as much as 150 euros for an 8 hour shift while women commonly charge a minimum of 50 euros for fifteen minutes. It seems like a very lucrative though unenjoyable line of work. The creepy, lurking men really emphasized the bad side of the gig.

Yesterday, Cheri and I flew separately to London. Though our round the world travels share locations and travel dates, we never fly on the same airplane. Cheri arrived in London at around 7pm and thanks to my previous visit, I was able to recommend a comfortable, central waiting point. Unfortunately, my flight was delayed and she had to wait for over three hours. A benefit to cultural readjustment is that nearly everything is new and exciting. Seeing crowds, eating basic foods and chatting with strangers can make the hours fly by. When I arrived, Cheri was perfectly comfortable and we went to visit Sally and Suzie in their new digs. SF family friends for many years, Sally and Suzie were great hostesses, giving a place to sleep and helping give Cheri a proper London tour while I flew to India.

I left at 11:50am. I arrived at 1:30am local time and after customs and baggage claim, realized that both ATM machines were down. I had only 8 pounds left, too little to take to the ForEx. After some negotiations, I managed to exchange 8 pounds and one euro for two samosas and 525 rupees. I paid a bit extra but was very happy to be able to get underway.

I got a pre-paid taxi and was on my way at 3:45am. Due to heavy fog, visibility was similar to that on Skyline Blvd. at night. I could see the hazards of other vehicles 50 or so feet ahead but could see nothing else. Shortly after 5am, the taxi driver was still unable to find my hostel. I had detailed, written directions and a phone number but we weren't able to manage. At this point, I used my failsafe method of visiting a ritzy hotel. I have had success with this approach in Vienna and in Budapest so thought I would test my luck. My pre-paid taxi tried to charge a hefty additional fee for driving me around for so long. We came to an agreement that 180 rupees (4 dollars) and 5 Ghana Cedis would cover the 700 rupees he hoped to get. I know that he was trying to overcharge me a bit but appreciated the comfort of the taxi. I insisted that he wouldn't be able to exchange the Ghanaian money but he insisted that it was a fair exchange.

I was helped into the nice hotel by doormen and was greeted by the concierge. Unfortunately, internet access would cost 400 rupees per hour (almost nine dollars). The friendly concierge knew that I was close to my hostel and apparently could tell that I wasn't a nine dollars per-hour kind of spender so he helped me get proper directions, called a taxi and gave the taxi driver the hostel phone number.

I arrived at the Blue Sapphire Hostel at 6am and slept until 2pm. Cheri arrived at 3 and we have been sorting out various odds and ends, trying to think of the best way to deal with the next month in India. There is a very distinct smell (similar source but different ingredients from the Ghana smell) and noise that I already appreciate.

Off for some good food and more rest.

Love to all!!

Though Prague was gorgeous and I had a great time, I fell in love with Budapest instantly.

After a very long, very late night dancing throughout Prague, I made it to the bus station with an hour and a half to spare only to learn that one seat remained. By the time my information was processed, of course the seat was taken and I had to get back on Metro and head to the train station where I paid three times the price. In the end, I enjoyed the space and ability to walk around. However, the directions I wrote down were from the bus station so when my train arrived an hour late, I was in Budapest at 11:30pm with no idea where to go.

I took the first taxi of my travels only to learn that Goat Hostel was not well known. As the driver took me across the Danube, I got a great view of the Citadel, Parliament and other gorgeous buildings that I would visit the following day. I remembered the Metro stop from my directions and was dropped off with the plan of winging the rest. I walked back and forth along what seemed to be the correct street. Lugging my bags, I eventually wandered into a 4 star hotel and was given permission to use the free internet. Even with directions, I couldn't find the hostel. I was directed right back to where I had been walking and when I asked at a bar, I was told that I was one door away. There was absolutely no signage other than a bolded Goat Hostel written among a dozen residences on the address label. After it all, the hostel is very nice.

The next morning, I walked up Gellert hill, read about the rich history of Budapest and kept on walking. I visited the Parliament building, and kept going until my legs, exhausted from dancing, 6 hours on the train, wandering with my luggage and walking around Budapest were very ready for the thermal baths. I spent nearly two hours going from sauna to sauna, pool to pool before heading back for a great sleep.

I was greeted by two very cool Australian girls. After chatting for a bit, we went out for what turned out to be incredibly good Hungarian food. Today, the three of us ventured out with the goal of reaching Statue Park, a park full of Communist statues. We got to appropriate bus station, waited a while and were finally told that the transport workers were on strike and that we wouldn't be able to make it. Instead, we visited a gorgeous indoor market, ate more great Hungarian food, met more fun travelers, went out for more great Hungarian food and came back here.

We've just started a movie. Tomorrow, I fly to Amsterdam tomorrow and will meet Cheri two days later.

Love to all'

A few hours after arriving in Vienna, I joined a group of three Chileans in conversation and went from there. We had a few beers and instead of sleeping early like the old, frugal traveler I've been, I went out on the town with a group of 21 and 22 year olds. We trekked over a mile through dumping snow to a bar where I instantly hit it off with a group of ex-pats. I danced up a storm, chatted a great deal and trekked back through the snow at about 4am. People kept buying my beers so I managed to stay frugal while giving up my early bedtime.

A late wakeup allowed me an energized day of wandering picturesque Vienna. I took an incredible amount of pictures. My inexperience with snow makes everything so much more exciting. Incredible architecture under a layer of snow and clear sky could not be beat.

A more mellow night, a 5 hour train trip, 2 hours lost wandering ( I will print directions next time) in Prague and I arrived at my current hostel. Today allowed for another day of beautiful architecture and a layer of snow. The snow continued to dump and it was about 20 degrees out. More pictures (uploads to come, I am borrowing a laptop) in Prague than in Vienna I believe. It's gorgeous here and I have two more days to explore. I don't think I will make it to the bone church, I will see how I'm feeling. Really loving this trip and all of the fellow travelers.

Love to all!

Ira

Since arriving in Bratislava, I have been worried that I wouldn't give Slovakia it's proper due. It's cold and for the most part quite unattractive. No tourist website had much to recommend. Nevertheless, I decided to give it the good old wander to see what I could find.

After a nice, inexpensive lunch, I decided to head back to the hostel on another road. I saw a saw a nice local pub with no prices starting in a number higher than 1. I stopped for a beer, had a second (a local beer I can't remember the name of) and was joined by a friendly mustachioed Slovak and his son. We chatted a bit, I explained that I was in Slovakia for no reason in particular and they offered to drive me to the castle in order to get a good look at Bratislavan history.

There were a few beautiful sights and after wandering, getting lost and finally getting the bus back to the neighborhood of my hostel, I realized that I had never strayed more than a mile from my starting point. Not a huge city but at least I gave it a proper look. Now off to Vienna!

Love to all.

As of 4:30am on Jan 2 I was on my own again. I was on my own in a nice hotel for the first 8 hours or so which I must say was very nice. I slept in, made my fifth trip to the gym in our 3 day stay and I took another hot shower (they just don't get old!)

I found Peace and Love Hostel and checked in around 2pm. Though I pretty much figured out the metro system, I somehow misread a street sign and walked WAY out of my way. When I reached my room after climbing 6 flights of stairs I was pretty spent. I wandered a bit, worked on applications but called it a night pretty early.

Luckily, the first Sunday of every month offers free admission to all of the museums in Paris. I spent the day (as many hours in lines as in museums) at the Louvre (meh) and the Musee D'Orsee (awesome!!). Walking along a hallway of Renoir, Monet, Manet, Van Gogh, Cesanne and others all in a row was unbelievable!! I am not a museum guy but I was blown away. I am not a fan of people taking photos of paintings. I am not sure why it bugs me so much but I really can't stand it.

This morning, I had to pick up my passport at the Indian visa office. Officially pick-up hours aren't until 2pm but I was lucky enough to skip the line and be in and out before 9am. I got back to the hostel and tried to buy my morning coffee. In exchange for getting ice from about 100 feet away, I was given free coffee and juice. When I was getting the juice a guy offered me a buttered baguette. I know I'm easily impressed but the day started WAY better than I had expected.

Things got a little less easy as the day went on. Nothing too bad though. I arrived at the bus station (my airport was over an hour outside Paris) well in advance and was behind an irate Frenchman. I don't understand much french but it sounded as though he was yelling something like "I'm an impatient ass and I'm going to make a scene even though there's nothing that can be done." The friendly woman behind the counter kindly replied something like. "I'm sorry but there is nothing that can be done." and changed windows to give me a chance. The impatient fellow pushed me out of the way and forced me to give him a big shove and my pretend I can fight face. I got my ticket, the angry man got sorted out and we were on our merry way.

Unfortunately, somebody must have spilled my plot to the authorities because my duct tape and jump rope were confiscated so I couldn't go through with my tape-n-skip terror plot. I bought my 5 euro ticket weeks in advance so I could duct tape people in place and whip them with my jump rope.

I made it to Bratislava and did my best to figure out where to go based on signs. I teamed up with two young french women and with the help of a Slovak woman and an Italian woman, we found the hostel in which I am typing.

I may head to Vienna for the day tomorrow and to Prague at night. Bratislava doesn't really call to me. We shall see.

Love to all

I am hoping to make it a second consecutive NYE without a fainting episode similar to my first NYE in Ghana. You know what I'm talking about.

My time in France has been absolutely incredible. It may not prepare me for the squalor of the rest of my trip as I have been filling up on champagne, fois gras and fine cheeses (thank you Jonathan and Annie). An incredible Christmas morning with stockings, fireplace and all was followed up with a seven course meal (photos are needed to give an idea). Too much wine at a game night on boxing day left me useless but content on the 27th.

My dad and I have since been to La Rochelle, Bordeaux and are now back up north in Paris. We have been a bit lost in each place but keep each other in good moods. We balance each other well. I like getting lost and then figuring it out. He does not like getting lost. I don't like spending money and will walk miles to avoid it. He doesn't mind spending money (works for both of us). We both like to eat and explore and can laugh at ourselves and at one another.

Tonight we have some NYE plans to figure out. The Eiffel tower will put on some sort of first ever light show that we hope to check out. Dad will leave early on the 2nd and I will kill a few days in Paris , hopefully picking up my passport from the VERY expensive Indian Visa office.

I am having a great time but am currently stealing wifi from a restaurant (and my food just arrived).

Love to all and happy new year!!

All is great here. Great food and great company in a beautiful home in Saxan France.

Love to all and happy holidays!!

My time in London was brief, rainy and cold. I stayed with a friend from San Francisco for my first night in town but due to prior engagements and schedules had to make it to a hostel for night two.

Though I managed some of my typical wandering, the cost of the tube and food was enough to keep me indoors much of the time. I have a strict mental budget and after my phone crapped out (a new phone with 10 pounds of credit was only 14 pounds!!) and I ate a basic meal, I was quickly reaching my limit.

The pace, price and left-side drivers gave me my most intense culture shock to date. I spent much of the day playing FIFA 2010 on Playstation 3. A nice relaxing day before heading to my hostel on the tube. A bite to eat, a televised football match and some chats with travelers brought me to a 10:30pm bedtime with snow flurries outside. At 2:30am I woke for the last time (many other travelers were in and out of the room through the night) and donned my excess baggage for my trip to Luton airport. When buying my ticket for the tube earlier in the day, I was told that I could use it all day, up through 3am. With my trip planned, I walked past many boisterous, stumblingly drunk groups on my way to the closed station. Panicked, I took a taxi through the snow to a bus station, hoping to make it in time for my 6am flight.

I arrived at the station and was told that no buses went from there to Luton. I was assured that no buses were going to Luton and that no flights were leaving Luton. I was sitting on the bus terminal floor at 3am with no idea how I would get to Paris. Some calls and texts home calmed me and as I ran out of phone credit, I found that I could get a 10 hour bus to Paris at 9am.

Rather than sit idle, I walked to the ATM and the Victoria Station in order to check my options. Lugging my bags, I walked through the early morning snow (still pretty great for this beach dwelling Californian) and sat at the station for a while before learning my best option.

A short bus ride later, I bought an overpriced but happily purchased Eurostar ticket to Paris. Guided by the bus schedule, little sleep and my Ghana travels, I thought that the 10:17 travel time meant that my 6:55am train would arrive just after 5pm. I made the appropriate calls and was pleased to arrive in Paris just after 10:30am.

I found the hotel, dropped my luggage and lounged until my Dad arrived a few hours later. BBC news was the only English language channel and went on and on about the terrible weather hitting the UK and France.

Today, after a long walk through Paris with my Dad, he and I saw on BBC that four Eurostar trains left London and were trapped in the chunnel for up to 15 hours. Though I felt very unlucky and put out at times, I kept high spirits, good humor and in the end lucked out!

Love to all

Though it isn't the peak season for tourism, I have met a good number of fellow travelers. Perhaps because it isn't the peak season, I have met some very dedicated and very experienced travelers.

In Cappadocia I met a trio (Swiss male 60s, Swiss male 28, Swedish female 30s) as the took a respite from their Switzerland to Nepal bicycle trip. The 28 year old spend 2 months cycling through Pakistan last year and told me that cycling is just a better way to travel and that he didn't take more than one long ride a week when at home.

I chatted with a Kiwi jiu-jitsu/mui thai fighting 32 year old chef who works long enough to fund his next trip.

Two Indian men came through individually and were constantly on the go. They were either touring, eating, sleeping or preparing the next stage of their travel.

I briefly met a sketchy Moroccan man. He hung around the hostel all day. When two travelers noticed money missing, new arrivals from Istanbul mentioned a similar situation at their hostel and one tenant in common. The man promptly left.

I went on a few nice hikes with a Polish-American statistician who grew up all over. Sometimes thinking in odds and percentages doesn't translate well to hiking. After losing a path, we saw a familiar landmark across a steep valley and kept deciding that we could probably make it down one way or most likely get down another way. We definitely ran into a lot of dead ends, one of which was a 20 foot drop that we noticed after sliding down steep declines on our butts. We tried and failed to get out by several routes and as the sun was setting, the temperature was dropping and our fears were quıckly mounting, we managed to shimmy up with backs literally pressed against one wall and feet straight out ahead. Nice now, not then.

On a paid tour of an ancient underground city (7,000 years old?) and various valleys, I latched on to a group of bonded solo travelers. A history academiad re-thinking his goals (but offering great info. on the surrounds), an ecologist between jobs in Switzerland and New Mexico/Argentina, a USC film school grad recently off his first feature as a cinematographer, and finally a lone Swede among Americans a year out of high school, headed south through Syria, Jordan, Iran and maybe a few other places it's easier to go without stars and stripes on your passport.

After the paid tour, the history buff went back to a Bulgarian fellowship, the Swede continued south and I joined the other two for a morning trip to Konya.

Fighting a fever and soar throat, I endured the cold as the three of us wandered Konya, visited great museums and enjoyed a non-touristy destination. We intended to leave for Antalya the same day we arrived but just before leaving for the 5pm bus, we learned that it was the second day of the 736th annual Mevlana Festival. We wandered a bit more before managing to get tickets and hole up in a warm place for a few hours before the 8pm show. Almost as entertaining as the event was the crowd. Full rows of old mustachioed Turkish men would sit in front of full rows of old Turkish women with colorful scarves, colorful (though different from the scarves) sweaters and yet more (still different) colorful trousers.

The Whirling Dervishes that we saw were absolutely mesmerizing and much more somber than I expected. The hats they wear represent the tombstone and their clothing the shroud.

I am now ın Cappadocıa and realıze that much of the journey has been based on feel. Istanbul was one of the cheapest locatıons from Accra and I have always heard great thıngs so I bought the tıcket.

The day I pıcked up my tıcket ın Accra I mentıoned ıt to a frıend ın the Peace Corps computer room. A dıfferent volunteer overheard the conversatıon and told me about hıs 3 months ın Turkey and saıd that Cappadocıa ıs an absolute must see.

After a few days ın Istanbul, I felt that I had seen the sıghts and had enough of the pushy rug and leather merchants (though I had nıce chats over tea wıth a few) so I bought an overnıght tıcket to Cappadocıa.

I left last nıght at 7pm on a shuttle. I got to the bus and was blown away. West Afrıcan travel really has set me up perfectly for thıs round the world journey. The temperature was perfect, despıte the outsıde temperature of -2c at certaın poınts. My seat reclıned and the seat ın front of me had a cup holder and a footrest for my use. The seat next to me was empty for the entıre trıp!! I have traveled 16 hours ın Ghana luxury buses only to cover a bıt less than half of the dıstance we covered last nıght ın 12 hours. Other passengers complaıned about havıng Turkısh news playıng on a televısıon screen. No problem.

When I got off of the bus thıs mornıng I was ın a faıry tale. Cappadocıa ıs an area wıth ıncredıble hıstory. Tools and ormaments from the neolıthıc era have been found. The Hattı, Hıttıtes, Persıans, Arıanthes, Romans, Chrıstıans, Seljuks and Ottomans have all settled here at one poınt or another. The regıon was covered after a volcanıc eruptıon 3-9 mıllıon years ago and due to erosıon and development, the landscape has come to consıst of hundreds of natural pıllar shaped rock formatıons.

I am now stayıng ın a hostel that has been burrowed ınto rock. My walls and ceılıng are stone. I went on a 3 hour hıke wıth a fellow yankee (an aussıe and a canadıan joıned for part) to one of the closest spectacles. I am not sure how long I wıll stay but ıt has been great so far. See for yourselves.

Love to all

I know that I am one of the 20 mıllıon plus tourısts that vısıt Istanbul annually but thıs ıs ınsane. I guess 6´3 blonde guys stıck out as much ın Turkey as they do ın Ghana.

I got here last nıght and thanks to a generous gıft from my mom I am stayıng wıthın a few mınutes of the Blue Mosque the Hagıa Sophıa and the Hıppodrome. If you cant tell I am havıng a hard tıme fındıng most punctuatıon on thıs Turkısh keyboard.

After arrıvıng at about 2pm I got my tourıst Vısa got asked about transport and managed to lug my bags across town on local transport for only 3 Turkısh Lıra (I thınk that equals about 2 dollars). Not much compared to the 30 euro aırport shuttle that was offered.

I wandered for two hours last nıght and another three hours thıs mornıng. I know there ıs a lot to see but wıth the entıre populatıon beıng made up of tourısts and hawkers I am gettıng worn out quıckly.

The plan from here ıs to take an overnıght bus to Cappadocıa where I hope to spend a few days. From Cappadocıa I hope to go to Antalya on the southern coast. Tryıng to balance my ultra frugalıty and my desıre to experıence Turkey has been dıffıcult. I have had very nıce food and grea tea but wıll save the Turkısh baths untıl I leave tourıst central.

Exhausted but greatç

Love to all

Ira

The trip north and to the beach was a success. I got to see great drumming and dancing in Kpendua to round out the village experience. Cheri and I went surfing at Busua beach in the south. At this rate, maybe I won't be so bad after six continents?

Yesterday was my second consecutive Thanksgiving Day spent at the ambassador's residence. Plenty of food and Sangria. Very nice!!! After the meal, I went to the home of our Country Director with two fellow volunteers where we watched football (the american type) and relaxed.

Today I got my luggage in order and tomorrow I fly to Turkey. It's hard to believe but the next journey is starting very shortly!!

I still haven't heard anything from Columbia being more practical than pessimistic, I'll be getting my other applications in order in Turkey.

Happy here.

Love to all

Ira

In a few hours I will officially be an RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer). I've had my work cut out for me the past few days. I left Bormase at 5am Monday morning. Sunday was full of fun, playing spa (a local card game) and football. Much of the community came out to the school site where I received a smock from the village bicycle project participants. It was very hard to realize how many things I would be doing for the last time.

I had my last bucket bath by starlight. I went to sit at the borehole though I didn't need to fetch water. I went to visit many friends for the last time. Too many lasts to count.

My mind is awash with memories and I'm sure I haven't even begun to miss my village like I will. I've been busy getting administrative things done in Accra. I'm closing out proposals for the bead workshop (only flooring needs to be completed) and the school (blackboards and some plastering still needed) and submitted my Description of Service and site history reports. I've been poked and prodded and given a variety of samples. I had a chest x-ray to prove that my inactive TB didn't become active TB. So much so quickly.

I'm hoping to get out of Accra today. Cheri and I will go to Kumasi this evening, to Tamale the following day and to her village Kpendua on Friday. We plan to venture toward the beach on Monday. More whirlwind touring. I want to get a day of surfing in before I leave Africa. I have a goal to become the worlds worst surfer to have surfed on six continents. I have two continents down and the upcoming trip will take care of the rest. I'm flying to Turkey in ten days and hope to get my mind out of my village before then. We'll see how that goes.

Though my Peace Corps journey is coming to an end, I plan to keep blogging. I'll update the blog through my third straight Christmas away from home and the many adventures that I can't yet imagine.

Thank you all for following this blog. I've enjoyed writing more than I expected I would.

Love to all, more to come.

Ira

I'm in Kof buying the last cement for the school and bead projects.

Yesterday, Dorothy, Raphael, Stephen, Paul, Johnny, Michael and I enjoyed a day in celebration of my time in Bormase. We had minerals and biscuits for lunch and slaughtered a rabbit for dinner.

Emmanuel joined in time for fufu with delicious rabbit meat. Stephen and Raphael will leave today and I likely won't see them again before I leave. I hope to see them again ever.

The day included carrying handfuls of 8 week old chickens from a tro to the chicken coop. I was attacked by another mama hen as I tried to save it's chick (a few days old) while the chick hung upside down by it's clawnail.

I did wash by hand for one of the last times. I've been taking photos like a maniac, trying to get what seems mundane but will be so strange soon. A sheep munching away at a plantain leaf, a toothless old woman walking barefoot to the store. I sure will miss this place.

Love to all.

Ira

I've been visiting with some of my best Peace Corps friends during their last days in country.

As the one in the group who would be going back for more work at site, I expressed the feeling that always accompanies time away from site.

I told my friends that when I leave, I feel guilty for being away and become eager to go back. When it's time to go back, I dread it a bit, savoring the running water, company and electricity. When I finally get on the road, I'm excited to get back to my friends in the village. When I'm in Bormase, I love it and wonder why I dreaded my return. When the time comes for me to leave site for any reason, I'm eager to leave.

I thought that this process would stop after a few months but it's lasted the full time. When I expressed it aloud, it was received with emphatic nods and wholehearted agreement. It's hard to understand the emotional swings but they come with the territory.

Seeing my friends leave is sad. I don't know when I'll see them again and most of them have no idea what they'll do when they get home. We've all spent time talking about how long a Peace Corps service is. We counted down months and now it's time to go. Each experience is fully unique and unexplainable. Here's to two years and a lifetime of failing to explain what it was like.

Love to all.

Ira

A few days ago, I attended a Columbia Admissions info session in Accra. For just over 25 dollars, I was able to transform myself back in the business casual guy I was before Peace Corps. New shoes, trousers, belt, tie and shirt allowed me to ensure that at least one aspect of my presence wouldn't stand out too much.

Assistant Dean and Executive Director of Admissions, Linda Meehan hosted the event, giving a detailed run down of the program and opening the floor to questions. I sat among about fifty other guests, ranging from recent university graduates to World Bank employees to company owning Columbia alums. The session reaffirmed my belief that Columbia is the school for me. Ms. Meehan was funny and very accommodating, giving valuable information to future applicants as well as those of us mid-application process.

I was able to ask a few questions but when the formal aspect of the event ended, I planned to ask a few more questions of Ms. Meehan but was cut off by other attendees and questions about Peace Corps and what brought me to the event.

After two years in the bush, it was eye opening to meet accountants and financial advisers educated in the UK and the US. Though I didn't quite fit the target demographic, I felt that I got a lot out of the event. Seeing the dedication that Columbia has to creating a diverse, balanced class was very important to me. Though the application is out of my hands, it was nice to get a better feel of what the program offers and what it can provide.

On another note, I recently had to bite the bullet and buy myself a new camera. I am now on my third camera of Peace Corps. It took some serious rationalizing on my part for me to allow myself to pay inflated Accra prices. In the end, I decided that the photos I'll take during my last 3 weeks in country and during the first leg of my round the world trip.

I've added more photos. Unrelated to the entry but still nice.

Love to all,

Ira

I thought that it would be nice to COS a few weeks after most of my friends. By allowing them to leave first, I thought I would have a chance to learn from their mistakes and confusion when leaving their respective villages. Instead, I get to watch my friends leave and freak out and figure out the tumult of emotions that await me.

Last week, I went to visit Cheri in Kpendua and Gray in his village in the Upper West. Cheri and I wanted to see the Upper West and were lucky enough to be there on the day of his going away celebration. Gray recently had latrines built at the JHS and Primary Schools in his village and a big celebration was held in his honor. The emotions involved were unbelievable and I had never been to the village before.

When I got back to Bormase, three new classrooms were constructed and had shiny zinc roofs over them. Every bit of construction that was planned had been completed and the excitement was palpable.

Yesterday, the Catholic priest pulled me from my reading time to discuss some important matters. He told me to be careful with my project because contractors, masons and carpenters often pad numbers in order to chop money and materials. He has been in the area for 7 years and knows how things work.

I didn't appreciate this advice at all!! Though this priest has been perfectly friendly and helpful throughout my time here, he hasn't lived and worked among the friends that are now helping with the construction. I know that Ghana is known for corruption and recently had to deal with my drunk chief asking for handouts but why come to me now?

I'm a bit sensitive about this I know but having him drive up on his motorbike (the other priest had the truck) on his way back to his nice house only to tell me about how villagers can be really rubbed me the wrong way.

As far as I can tell, the bead center and school are coming along as planned. No materials have gone missing and we are below budget so far.

My camera spoiled somehow during my last travels so I'll have to figure out a way to get final photos. Below are pictures just for pictures' sake.

-Through the windshield, looking at the wood we just picked up.

-The courtyard in front of my house with my neighbor Patience strolling around (taken through the doggie door)

-Me with Sweetie

-Harvesting Moringa (practicing the timer on my camera)

Love to all

Ira

A fellow Ghana PCV left about 5 months ago to pursue a graduate school scholarship. About a week ago, he sent an e-mail to a number of us, updating us on what he's been up to. He lamented about the economy, the mundane and the reaction he got from friends. I don't know if it was intentional but he sent this e-mail as many other volunteers are preparing to leave for home.

Two volunteers from my group have officially closed their services (COSed). They had their respective home issues and received permission to go home more than 30 days ahead of our official NOv. 26 COS date. Almost nobody has an idea of what they plan/hope to do when they get home. We have different degrees of COS trip plans. A large group will meet in Barcelona shortly after Thanksgiving and will take a low cost, off season cruise to Galveston, Texas. As of now, I have a one way ticket to Istanbul November 28 and a plan to figure out what comes next. I'll meet my Dad in France mid to late December and will meet Cheri for a flight from London to Delhi mid January. I hope to travel until May. HOPEFULLY I will hear good news about grad school before this time but we shall see.

Projects are going well. I'm still trying to balance work and planning my re-adjustment yet again.

Love to all!!

Ira

Two days ago, I submitted my early decision application for Fall 2010 at Columbia Business School. It's been quite a process and it feels SO good to have it sumbitted. I got some editing done when not running the VAC meeting in Accra. The meeting went well but I wasn't as close to finished as I hoped I would be.

I went to Kumasi to get more internet/electricity time but the power was out for the bulk of the time I was there. I was able to edit in spurts only to wait as many as 10 hours for the power to come back. The day before the application was due, I uploaded my final essays (thanks to Rob, Justin, Gray, Will, Nick, Tycho, Cheri and Martha for their help) but couldn't upload my transcript. Though my transcript is far from the highlight of my application, it's still required. I sent a tech support request and got a reply saying that it would be processed within 4 business hours. To kill those 4 hours, I jumped on a tro to Koforidua, arrived 4 hours later and arrived at almost the exact same time as the tech support reply.

I got my application submitted a day before the deadline and recently got an update telling me that my application has been printed and is being prepared for review.

The next step will be to attend an information session in Accra on October 28. Accra is one of only 3 African cities to host a Columbia info session so I feel very lucky in that regard. The director of admissions will be in attendance so I can help her put a face to my name.

As far as PC projects, they are also going very well. When I left for my meeting, Patrick had a schedule of steps to take towards completing the school project. When I got back yesterday with 30 more bags of cement, I was happy to see that everything planned had been completed beautifully. Three carpenters were hard at work. The foundation and frame were completed and the carpenters and masons plan to work every day until the work is done. Though a construction project can't really be considered sustainable development, it's nice to know that the community worked so well together in my absence.

The bead center has taken a back seat but only needs a bit more work for completion. My Moringa farm is flourishing and I will honestly miss my trees. I've been harvesting and drying leaves but haven't found a proper market outside Bormase.

And my toe is healing quickly!!

Feeling great!!

Love to all

Ira

With my national VAC meeting this week and plenty of essay work to do, I've left the school and bead projects behind me. After consecutive days starting with 6am meetings and extensive organization, I've left 90 2x6 boards, 80 2x4 boards and money for ten bags of cement in Bormase.

When I return next Monday, the bulk of the frame should be completed. I sure hope it really does get complete while I'm away.

In the meantime, I'll be re-working my essays and discussing the state of Peace Corps Ghana.

I guess the whole goal of Peace Corps is to complete sustainable projects so this will be a good test.

A nice anecdote from my busy few days at site: During our second trip for wood, the driver, Patrick, a few laborors and I took a detour to visit a local waterfall. I absolutely loved the detour and the fact that none of the Ghanaians with which I went had ever seen the falls. Just before leaving, I was ushered over to a small area behind the waterfall and told that it was the meeting place of dwarves. I have heard stories from other volunteers about the invisible dwarves but I had never had the joy of hearing a first hand account.

Too much essay writing has sapped my blog writing reserves.

Love to all,

Two years ago today, I got off the plane with 47 other Peace Corps trainees. There are now 30 other Peace Corps Volunteers in my group and I understand why Peace Corps service is two years long.

One week ago, George and Moro from Village Bicycle Project arrived in Bormase. Despite some minor mishaps, the week has been the best of my service hands down. Last Friday morning, roughly 55 of the 101 registered bicycle recipients showed up for a 7am meeting. Each one drew a number to determine which of the five, day-long sessions they would attend. The remaining 46 participants picked their respective numbers when they had a chance and we were set for the day.

From this meeting, I joined a yelling match at the school construction site. One community did their portion of community labor and were yelling about the distribution of work. I followed what I could of the Krobo chatter until I had to go wait for the truckload of bicycles to arrive. I spent a few minutes playing with my 4 month old neighbor Sweetie (her name is Esther but everyone calls her Swee-tee). When I heard a deep grumble down the road, I took the few steps that were needed for me to see down the road. As the truck approached, people spilled out of the bush cover and cheered to no end. By the time the truck stopped beside the church (the location of the sessions) there were at least forty people, bike recipients and otherwise, waiting and helping pull bikes off.

Patrick translated for each of the five sessions as bike recipients learned basic bike maintenance. They learned how to use spanners without damaging the bicycle. They learned to change a tire and how to patch a tube. They learned to check loose bearings and how to clean and oil a chain. At the end of each day, 20 new bike owners were released to the one Bormase road. With each day, the view from my front yard/dirt was more exciting.

One Tuesday, the headmaster from the primary school stopped by and asked for a meeting. Patrick and I went from the bike session to the school to see children teaching each other to ride their new bikes. When the headmaster left for summer break, funds weren't yet approved for the school improvement project. When he came back for the first day of the new term, over 100 cement blocks were sitting in front of the school. We discussed the plans for construction and the excitement that he and his staff shared was worth the work hands down.

As Patrick and I left, we saw children teaching their friends to ride a bike. Kids that couldn't ride a bike the day prior and had something so nice to call their own were eager to share it with friends. This was also well worth the work.

On Thursday, after our second to last session, Stephen had to patch a puncture before riding the 2 hours back to Asesewa. On the way, I rode my bike while he ran along, pushing his own from behind. I thought I'd help out by holding his handlebars while riding along. This seemed like a good idea until his bike started to veer away from me and I had to drop it. --Careful if squeamish-- When I dropped Stephen's bike, I had to put my sandal-clad foot down to catch my balance. In the tenth of a second that my foot was down, the handlebar of Stephen's bike landed on my big toe. It hurt but I biked on with clenched teeth. When I passed a cyclist going the opposite direction, I noticed that he was staring at my foot. I looked down and was sure that my band-aid was about to fall off. But I didn't have a band-aid on my toe. My big toenail had been ripped off and was flapping by a small bit of skin.

I'm OK now but was in a bit of shock for a moment. A little chunk of nail bed came away with the nail and I was bleeding quite a bit. My shower/dishes bucket became my foot soaking bucket. Stephen helped cut the nail away and we both tried to scrub away the clotted blood before realizing that the color difference was due to the depth of the cut. OUCH!!! I almost puked/passed out at that point.

Yesterday, we finished the bike project. Short of a few serious sneezing fits I've had in the past, I've never had so many people bless me in such a short period of time. I have never felt so good in Bormase. George and Moro left with a trunkful of plantains and yams.

I'm in Accra now, my toe feels good (looks awful) and I just had a great chat with a business school contact. Definitely straddling two worlds at the moment but absolutely loving it.

I will keep you all updated as things progress.

Love to all!!

Ira

When I was getting advice about readjusting to American culture, I didn't think that I'd be doing so much of it while still in Ghana.

Last Friday, I met with chiefs and elders to discuss the proper approach for the school project. I realize that while I kept the prospective project secret from the village (in case it didn't come through in time) I may have also kept it out of my blog entries.

The 52 year old Bormase Roman Catholic Primary School still consists of it's original cement block building. The building is partitioned into two classrooms for Kindergarten through P6. Over 100 students learn either in this building or under trees or makeshift thatch structures. This recent proposal covers the cost of the construction of three additional classrooms. On Monday, Patrick and I came to Koforidua to purchase 30 bags of cement and 15 nineteen foot iron rods. I shelled out almost 1,000 cedis in one day and felt odd fitting the Obruni stereotype of having money and throwing it around building schools.

While Patrick and I were in Koforidua, 40 community members convened and worked throughout the day collecting sand to be used on cement block construction. Tuesday and Wednesday were for bock construction. Tomorrow, I'll shift gears and greet the Village Bicycle Project and the 101 bicycles that have been paid for by Bormase community members.

Most of next week will be spent in classes of 20, teaching basic maintenance to every new bike owner. The bead structure is still under construction and my first business school application is due in less than one month.

I ordered a transcript and had an official score reported to Columbia today. Talk about having a foot in two different worlds. I've been working on essays when not running around the village on errands.

I'm sending all remaining energy towards the implosion of the Rockies and the appearance of a Giants offense.

It's hectic now but SO worth it.

Will keep you all updated on the progress.

Love to all,

Ira

After over a week with my fellow 2007-2009 Peace Corps Ghana Omnibus group (31 of our initial 48), the best way to sum up the time is with some highlights from our Fufu Awards. Our new Program and Training Officer Rob brought Fufu awards from his former post in Vanuatu. They're sort of like high school yearbook polls but funnier and more personal. Rob posted highlights from the 180 Fufu awards that were revealed during the conference and I've posted them below.

Most likely to:

• Take a calabash to a kegger – Gray

• Use Ghanaian English in the U.S. – Terri

• Design, sell, and wear her won Ghanaian line of clothes – Shawn Fox

• Still wear too much batik in America - Darren

• Have worms by COS – Daria

• Dress up like a guinea fowl for Halloween – Leanne

• Be a trophy wife - Katrina

• Use “I’m Irish!” excuse for drinking habits – Niall

• To be ticketed for “freeing” themselves in public – Jon

• Get lost on their COS trip and never make it home – Becka

• Eat dogs in America – Blake

• Be unrecognized by family at the airport - Chris

• Treat herself to a pedicure in America, give a pedicure in America, and date her pedicurist – Joy

• Try to take over the world – Carolyn

• Skip PC Conference sessions and sleep instead – Allison

• Feel threatened by other blondes in the U.S. –Caitlin

• Be rich and show it off – Ledor

• Bark like a seal when excited – Phil

• Always be a beach bum - Mandy

• Continue using Ghanaian hand gestures in America – Cheri

• Have the best foot tan lines – Erin

• Keep taking Lariam, not for the malaria, but for “the dreams dude.” – Will

• Succeed . . . with a mustache – Ira

• Have a nation-wide fan club upon the return home – Thuy

• Use the pickup line, “I lived in Africa” for the rest of his life – Jon

• Become a samurai warrior – Egan

• Stare awkwardly at you and then say, “thanks for the dance” – Ashley

• Request that all subordinates call him “Chief” - Larry

As you may have guessed, I rocked a sweet mustache for the conference. Gray and I ran into each other in Koforidua a few weeks before the conference and commented on each others unkempt facial scruff. For fun, we decided to manicure that scruff into a nice COS mustache. They were a hit for sure.

The conference focused on re-adjusting into American culture and the fast pace of life. Compared to previous conferences, this was amazing. The food and lodging was upgraded as a way of rewarding our hard work. We ate barracuda, shrimp and other tasty treats. At night, we let of steam at the hotel pool or on the beach. It was a nice head start at re-adjusting.

From the Peace Corps sanctioned event, many of us branched off onto an event of our own. All volunteers were invited to a beach hotel that was more Peace Corps speed. The rooms had sand floors and the beach had trash all over it. We enjoyed this place just as much as the previous, swank hotel. We used the faux-nerf football that I brought back from the USA to play football/volleyball on the beach court. We broke off into two teams and would simply throw the ball over the net in an attempt to make it un-catchable. It was kind of like anti-catch and it was incredibly fun. We spent our days playing cards when we were tired of football-volleyball and playing cards when physically exhausted. We are going to be very easy to please in the US.

On the last day of our time at the beach, a Lebanese ex-pat befriended a few from our group. Cheri was summoned from the football/volleyball court when Tanal started talking about his wakeboard boat. After two years of telling stories about water-skiing, Cheri was promised the opportunity to strut her stuff. The following morning, most of our group left the beach on their way to their respective sites. Cheri, Daria, Steve, Shawn and I waited for Tanal to make good on his word. I was skeptical until I saw the beautiful boat pull up just before 11am.

Cheri and Steve were incredibly impressive while I failed to even get up out of the water on my first series of attempts. Though I was frustrated, I was perfectly happy to see Cheri so happy and in her element. After I went, Tanal took a turn and wowed us all with back flips and other tricks. He also took the time to show us the 12 bathroom house he's having built beside the Volta River. Talk about a drastic change from live in the world of development.

I got a second try on the wakeboard and stood up on my second try. I felt like a baby learning to walk again but had an amazing time. Once I stood up for the first time, it was like second nature and I couldn't understand how it had been so difficult to figure out. Cheri took another turn on the slalom ski and looked as comfortable as she does waling down the street. Very nice to see.

As we finished too late to get a tro-tro back to Accra, Tanal and his driver (boat and car driver) David gave us a ride to Accra in a nice air conditioned car that took no more than half the time a tro would have. Talk about a head start on re-adjusting. I don't plan to spend my weekends on a wakeboard boat but I did have a nice time indeed.

While away from Bormase, my Small Project Assistance grant was funded by USAID so when I return to Bormase, we can start to work on the school improvement project that is about 50 years overdue. I can't wait!!!

Love to all.

Go Giants!!!!!

Ira

My last entry suggested that nothing was really going on. I guess I'm just getting used to doing a bit more.

The day prior to my last entry, I went to visit my fellow volunteer Marcus and we went on a great hike to Tsibi, a bead village atop a mountain/big hill. The view was incredible and the beads were some of the best I've seen in Ghana. Another volunteer Chris is working on a sort of tourist book that will help draw attention to artisan villages in the Eastern and Volta regions. It was quite a day but somehow didn't strike me as worth writing about.

Since last week, I've been reading at site, farming a bit in the Moringa field (another harvest molded in the humid air) and feeling surprisingly inactive. When I first got here, if I went to farm, fetched water, watched clothes and helped a bit at the store it felt as though I'd led a full day. These days I'm collecting money for the Village Bicycle Project, dealing with the Hannah situation, making plans for other projects that need finishing, working on grad school essays and still doing all the things that used to make the day feel full. Somehow it's still slow.

This past week, I held our regional VAC meeting at the Kumasi Sub Office. The meeting went well as we had no serious problems in the region. Expecting as many as fifteen people, I got ten kilos of frozen chicken for a BBQ. We had seven people attend but did our best, eating chicken at the slightest pang of hunger.

On Tuesday, the 33 remaining volunteers from my training group will meet at Ada, on the beach down south. We will have our COS conference, discussing how to readjust to life in America while discussing the work we've done and Peace Corps as a whole.

We haven't had an event with all of our training group without the other groups also in attendance. 4 days and three nights at the beach sounds great. I should have pictures and stories to share during and/or after that.

Love to all

Ira

Life in Bormase is going well. Time is flying along and harvest season is here. I spent a full day de-husking maize with Dorothy and Stephen while Paul and John weeded. The bead center is on hold until more sand is delivered.

I've been focusing on business school apps of late. The time is quickly coming and with only a day or so per week with internet access, I want to have updates available when the electricity is there. Cranking away. So little time left, it's hard to believe

GO GIANTS!!!!

Love to all,

Ira

It truly feels as though I've been involved in a soap opera for the last week. It doesn't quite live up to the Nollywood (Nigerian Hollywood) movies that are shown on long bus trips but that's only because the week has lacked screaming and juju.

I got back to Bormase one week ago to learn that Dorothy had asked about the Keebler biscuits that had been taken. A word to potential thieves out there, if you want to steal money, don't also steal foreign food and share it with your friends!!! It seems that Hannah stole my biscuits (crackers) and shared them with her friends after taking my 130 Ghana Cedis in proposal money. One day after confronting Hannah about the theft and getting nowhere, we got her to admit that she took my money and my biscuits. However, she only admitted to taking 80 Ghana Cedis. Apparently she stole 80 Ghana Cedis, went to market, bought nothing and came back with 80 Ghana Cedis but can't account for the remaining 50 Cedis that is missing. Makes sense.

On Friday morning, after meeting with Hannah and getting a confession, Patrick, Hannah's father-in-law Samuel (one of the Bead Center carpenters) and I went to Asesewa to buy the lumber for further construction. We bought the necessary lumber and upon learning that nails were overpriced in Asesewa, Patrick and I went to Koforidua to buy iron sheets and nails. By the end of the day, all materials needed for the construction of the frame and roof were purchased and delivered to Bormase.

On Friday evening, after dinner, Dorothy and I went to see Hannah again in order to see her plan for making amends. She refused to admit that she had taken the full amount. The longer she denied it, the more upset I became. This is a woman to whom I've brought money making projects and gifts, only to have her take my money and lie to my face about it. When she told me that she wouldn't steal again, I asked how she planned to earn money in the future she knelt down in front of me, held on to the leg of my trousers and said "I beg, I won't come there again."

She didn't say how she planned to earn money, she doesn't work or farm currently and has had to send the twins to stay with their grandmother elsewhere. I would be happy to hear that she had a plan for earning money or reason for taking the money. I would even be receptive to having her admit that she had taken the whole sum. By the end of the night, Hannah and Samuel agreed to pay the remaining sum within four weeks. Dorothy and I left with not much accomplished. Dorothy has had several hundred Cedis stolen in the past and is quite convinced that Hannah was responsible. Unfortunately, there is no way to prove that Hannah took that money so I will get my money back while Dorothy's hard earned money is still missing.

On Saturday, great progress was made on the construction of the bead center. I played with children, helped when my help was needed. While I was making progress on a very exciting project, I wasn't able to fully enjoy it while this drama was going on. People kept asking my why Hannah stole my money, what would happen to her etc.

Over the next few days, Emmanuel coordinated for the police to come to Hannah's house twice. They came one morning to be told that Hannah was not in the house. Hannah came by our house when Dorothy and Emmanuel were away in order to ask Stephen (back for a visit) if he would beg Emmanuel not to call the police. By the afternoon, Hannah had left Bormase.

The police came the next morning at 5am. I was awakened in case they had to ask me any questions. They didn't ask questions but went to Samuel to question the family about Hannah's whereabouts. Nothing was accomplished.

Over the next few days, Dorothy brought any development to me and chatted about it for a bit. Emmanuel found out where Hannah had gone. A woman in the community knew that Hannah had taken Dorothy's money in the past and knew that the family with whom she stays had known about the money and had spent it with Hannah. The woman who told Dorothy wasn't willing to say it officially because she was scared of what might happen.

The frame and roof of the Bead Center were completed on Monday and Tuesday. Patrick and I walked all around the village in order to purchase a fowl. In Krobo tradition, if you pay to have a carpenter build you a roof, you must slaughter a fowl to ensure that while you've sent their souls up to the roof, that they'll also come down safely.

A group of us poured libations, ate fufu and celebrated the great accomplishment and great addition to the community.

On Wednesday, Dorothy called from Sekesua to have me come to the Police station. I walked my white self into the Police station with all eyes on me. I was told that if I pressed charges, the case would go to trial and if convicted, Hannah would spend from 5 to 25 years in prison. There is no way that I'll press charges!! The whole time, people in the village were talking about how the family should involve the police so that Hannah could spend a night in jail and be released. I'm not sure if my presence made the police pay closer attention to the laws (not being able to imprison people without a charge) than they might otherwise.

This morning, Emmanuel called to tell Dorothy that if the money is brought to me, I should tell Hannah that she and the family now owe 40 Ghana Cedis more for the police fees. I also won't have anything to do with that part. My being robbed somehow put me in the middle of a heated family/village squabble. Nobody seems to blame me or hold a grudge but it's a very bittersweet situation.

The money should be returned by tomorrow and the Bead Center will be completed as planned.

Bittersweet indeed,

Love to all.

Ira

One week ago, Patrick came to meet me in Koforidua. We bought twenty bags of cement and twelve galvanized pipes in order to start the construction of Bormase's community bead center!!!

Several members of the bead group came to the work site on Monday and construction was started. Robert Mugabe (not sure why he likes to go by this name) showed up to give instructions and to ensure that the foundation was laid properly and that the pipes were set at appropriate height for the construction of the roof.

School children took shifts collecting sand and delivering it with head-pans and buckets until enough sand was available for the construction of cement blocks. Each child received a pencil in exchange for the work. It might sound terrible that we used the labor of 60 children in exchange for maybe three dollars worth of pencils but in the end, everybody benefited greatly. The children will take arts and crafts time to make traditional Krobo beads. The gift of a pencil was incredibly well received considering that the culture allows any adult to tell any children to do pretty much any chore at any time.

During the day, some of the workers took breaks to look at my MBA school catalogs and ask about the buildings and cars in various pictures. Trying to explain NYC is virtually impossible. A recent Secondary School graduate who studied building technology looked at some of the beautiful architecture at Georgetown University and walked me through how the roof wasn't made out of iron sheets but is made of a different material. Quite an experience.

We also took breaks to play with the various party favor-style toys that I brought back from the USA. Those small enclosed plastic mazes with a ball inside were a hit. Several men would race each other repeatedly, seeing who could get the little metal ball to the center first. Propellers on sticks were flying through the air throughout the day. Everything went great!! Rather than pushing to get work done, I was hanging out with friends while the worked on a project about which they were very excited.

The contractor showed up today to build cement bricks. Tomorrow, Patrick and I will travel with Mugabe to Asesewa to purchase wood for the roof. Construction of the roof will start on Saturday.

When I wasn't working, I turned 27 years old. Cheri came to meet me in Koforidua where we had beer and Fufu to celebrate. We walked a few miles to a small waterfall yesterday and got back to my site to see that some of my American food had been taken from my kitchen. I wasn't too worried about the peanut butter crackers but worried that somebody would go into my space when I was away.

This morning, I double checked my wallet to see that 130 Ghana Cedis of proposal money was missing. We have targeted a prime suspect and taken dirt samples form some footprints in my room and fingerprints from the peanut butter cookie wrappers. Seriously though, we thoroughly questioned Hannah, the mother of Atta and Lahweh. She has a habit of lurking around the house whenever Dorothy goes to market. Several hundred cedis have gone missing from Dorothy's bedroom in the past so she recently changed her locks. I never lock my room but hadn't come across any problems in the past. I've now locked up my house and will see how things stand when I get back to the village.

Love to all.

Ira

No, I'm not plugging any golden arches. In fact, I was very happy to avoid McDonald's while in America. I still gained about 12 pounds!!!

Most of my first day back in Bormase was spent sleeping. I didn't realize how tired I was until I woke at 6:30, ate an egg sandwich, napped until 10:45, visited a few neighbors and then napped from a bit after noon until 3:45!!! No wonder I can't sleep at my usual bedtime of 8pm.

Life back in Bormase has been great. Michael and Patience are two new children at the house. They really live next door but after watching 5 year old Michael take care of his toddling sister for long enough, Dorothy unofficially adopted the two kids. They spend the day at our house while their parents farm etc.

Kicking a ball around, playing with bubbles and having incomprehensible conversations with small boys and small girls have been my favorite activities. Handing over earnings from the American bead bonanza was great too. Great thanks to all who helped the cause.

Today, Patrick is coming to meet me and we will purchase the cement for the community bead center. I can't wait!

Love to all

Ira