Just wondering if anyone reads this. I'm thinking about switching to blogspot. I think I'll update more there as it's integrated with my google goodies.

Every first Friday of the month, the Groningen Couchsurfing (CS) community meets in town for drinks and conversation. I love things like this. My linguistics program keeps me busy and it's difficult to meet new people in a new city outside of my program and apartment building. Couchsurfing meetings are how I met most of my friends in Utrecht, and I think they're equally as affective in meeting people here.

So last Friday I welcomed my couchsurfer Svenja, a sweet girl from Germany, who is au pairing in the Netherlands. As I recently wrapped up my au pairship and she is just beginning, we had a lot of stories to exchange. After dinner, we went to the Groningen CS meeting where we met a lot of nice people. In some cases, I remet people from September's meeting, the last monthly meeting I attended. My favorite part about Couchsurfing meetings is it gathers people from different countries and diverse backgrounds who have two things in common: passions for travel and foreign cultures.

About midway through the evening, a Dutch guy (let's call him Stom, stupid in Dutch) came to my side of the table. We exchanged introductions, and when Stom found out I was from the States, he responded with, “your country sucks.”

Stom proceeded to sit right next to me in an attempt to carry on a conversation. I sat in shock as I do not usually get harsh responses from Couchsurfers. He kept asking questions, and I responded with one word answers where possible, displaying my lack of interest in his presence. He gave me a look when he finally realized this, and I responded with, “how do you expect me to have a pleasant conversation with you when you greet me by bashing my country?”

Stom went on to defend himself, insisting California is a cool place to be from and is not covered under his definition of the US. Clearly Stom did not take US geography, but as he's from the Netherlands and North American geography was likely not part of his educational curriculum, I chose to enlighten him with the fact that California is part of the United States, and when he says my country “sucks,” that includes California. I also mentioned his greeting is not perceived as appropriate discourse in westernized countries.

The dispute ended, and silence lingered. This stubborn Stom guy refused to leave the table. Eventually one of my new German acquaintances, Kaja, insisted he “try” the other side of the table. What a pleasant way to paraphrase “get the fuck out of here.”

I say with great sorrow that I'm getting used to people telling me about how much they think the United States “sucks.” These individuals usually feel the way they do for political reasons, and then they often group Americans into Bush loving, McDonald's eating idiots. I find myself defending my country constantly when I just want to have a nice conversation, and I'm less desiring of political conversations for this reason. But instead of feeling ashamed for some of the less than pleasant things the United States is responsible for, I'm embracing qualities I didn't notice prior to my January 2008 departure, and I'm more patriotic than ever.

After growing up in the United States, living in France, Madagascar, Italy and the Netherlands and traveling extensively, I realize each place is different with its own pros and cons. No one country is better than another, and I include war torn nations in this statement. I find it unfair and unrealistic to think all citizens from a particular country love their government and behave in a certain manner. People have the right to be an individual, so when meeting new people look at that rather than casting them into the pool of their home country stereotypes.

Don't get me wrong, I haven't forgotten the past 7 months I have yet to fill you all in on, but I'll start blogging like a normal human being in the meantime. :)

So yesterday was a little bit rough. I picked the boys up from school, and it was a lovely day outside so I proposed going for a bike ride or playing outside. Just being outside is beyond punishment for male Nintendo junkies, so they were being difficult with me. I was low on patience yesterday, and while I didn't yell at them, I used a firm voice and told them video games rot their brain. They started crying (which is kind of funny looking back on it now), called their mom, and we came to the solution that they'll play outside Friday, today. Well, it's raining today so that isn't going to happen.

I did manage to get the boys to watch Horton Hears a Who!, and they seemed to enjoy that. What they liked most was the village of Whoville and all the Whos because they had never seen them before. Turns out my Dutch family has never even heard of Dr. Seuss, and I feel like your typical, egotistical American for assuming they had.

Instead of Dr. Seuss, Dutch children grow up with books from Dick Bruna of Utrecht, notable for Miffy, or Nijntje (pronounced "Nine-chuh") in Dutch. So famous is Nijntje there's a small square in Utrecht with a statue, and a few cross walks with Nijntje shaped lights instead of people.

Last night I submitted my final application materials for the University of Groningen here in the Netherlands. I'm still waiting to hear from San Jose State and Cal State Fullerton. These are my final three hopes as the other four I applied to rejected me. Granted, they were all Ivy League schools or in a similar category, but I also thought my experience was impressive enough to enter such prestigious institutions. At the same time I seem to thrive in chillaxed environments, so what I'm feeling is a big waste of money on applications is probably just another way of finding out my path leads me elsewhere. I can thank my good Peace Corps friend Daline for making me come to this realization. What would I do without my friends?!

I have a feeling I'm going to bore you all with my graduate school woes in the coming future. It's the only thing I can think about, and not knowing where I'll live or what I'll be doing in August is beyond stressful. I had a small breakdown about a month ago where I was really upset with my life and felt like being an au pair is a big waste of time. One of my classmates from Dutch class, a South African woman, helped me by just listening, helping me sort out my thoughts and figuring out an immediate action plan. Like I said, what would I do without my friends?! I'm truly lucky.

So now I'll play the waiting game. If I receive three more rejections, I'm going to move somewhere to teach. South Korea has numerous programs that pay well. I've also seen great opportunities in Japan, Vietnam, Thailand, Indonesia, Costa Rica and Honduras. Japanese food is my favorite, but I'd love to live in a sunny place again. In the meantime, if anybody has connections with the universities I'm still waiting to hear from, let me know. ;-)

I've been meaning to chop off my hair for about a month now, but haircuts are so expensive in Europe I put it off as long as possible. A typical trim, for example, costs 40 Euros, and that's painful on an au pair budget. Hell, I probably would have still thought that's painful back in the day when I had a "real" job. For the first time yesterday I used a flat iron I inherited from the previous au pair, and it makes a HUGE DIFFERENCE! I think I can push this whole haircut thing off for another month or two. In fact, the flat iron made such a positive difference I can probably tolerate to grow my hair out for Locks of Love again.

Locks of Love hair donation from 2008

Wow, do I need to update. So many stories to tell I don't know where to begin. More later. :)

How do you begin an entry to express the sadness you feel for a good friend that just passed? I guess I'll skip the sadness and get to the good stuff, like the awesomeness that was Greg Poma. By the way, I know it has been a few months, but I just found out today.

I met Greg at Cal Poly Pomona in 2002. Some people are naturally charismatic and genuinely sincere, and Greg was one of them. At that time I was pursuing a career in entertainment, and Greg was nothing but supportive for my endeavors. Greg was always there for me when I needed encouragement, support, to talk to someone, or when I just needed a friend. He was a true gentleman with a traveling spirit, and he was always eager to try new experiences.

Greg was also a computer genius and constantly in the loop of the latest and greatest gadgets. He was passionate about his work and incredibly successful in his career. In fact, he did well at such a young age he continued working full time as he completed his coursework at Cal Poly Pomona.

Greg also enjoyed running, and he partook in many 5k/10k races in Southern California. By this time I was also into running, too, and we planned to take on the Antarctica Marathon in 2011 or 2012 together.

Greg Poma was one of the highlights of my college experience, and he'll be missed.

...

This is why I never get tired of Dirty Dancing. What a man. :)

I was going to go for a bike ride today, but my entire body still aches from my wii workouts this week! Wii fit kicks ass! In fact, I got my best 5k time ever, 18 minutes!

So now that I have all this unexpected free time today, I'll spend it updating my blog, working on (and possibly uploading) photos, and reading the 4th book of the Twilight series (vampires...HOT).

After much hassle with Dell's computer technicians in India, they sent a nice, Dutch technician to my house to fix my beloved laptop. Now...it's blogging time! Ohhh jaaaa!!!

Bongiorno all,

I just wanted to send a quick note to let you all know I left Germany.

Things did not work out with the family, and as difficult and expensive as it was to leave, it was the right decision. Luckily I was in touch with an

Italian woman, Katia, that wanted a private, live-in English teacher.

I took her up on her offer and moved to a town close to Padua,

Italy. Padua is 30 minutes south of Venice by bus. I also have a few

additional students on the side that I will start to tutor next week.

I intend to blog much more about my experiences abroad, but as my

stories may be about very specific people now, I will no longer blog

publicly. I will continue to email updates when I move, but for all

my small stories, I am going to make them available to my “friends” on

LJ.

Ciao!

I am long overdue for an update, so here it goes…oh yeah, and I

apologize in advance for its length.

I have been back in California just over a month now. Boy did I

underestimate the severity of our economic situation. After getting

over the initial shock of hot water in the tap and seeing over 100

cereals at the grocery store, I became obsessed with searching for a

job.

I have to admit I thought my Peace Corps service would impress

employers, and they would be eager to bring a cultured woman like

myself on board, but most people think Peace Corps died with the

hippie era, and do not have a clue how it shapes the world views of

volunteers. Long story short, I applied to jobs all over California,

and I received either rejection letters, or no response at all for

jobs I am perfectly qualified for. I have even applied for jobs I am

very overqualified for, including Subway and Me-N-Eds Pizza, but no

leads.

Then I remembered a friend who found a job as an au pair in Northern

France on a whim. For those of you who do not know what an au pair

is, they are a second mom or dad to a family. Each family varies in

what they ask for, but in general, au pairs look after children,

possibly cook and clean, and help teach the family his or her

language. Luckily, many people want to learn English. I thought this

would be a great opportunity to live abroad, escape being jobless in

California, and continue doing what I love, teaching English.

So I signed up for this website, greataupair.com, and voila, hundreds,

nay, thousands of families matched my search criteria! The website

became an addiction instantly, and I browsed families for hours upon

hours without breaks. In just 12 short hours, I already had a few

leads, and now, a week later, today, I have a job in Europe!

Actually, I have two jobs, and this is the reason why.

I connected with an incredible family in the village of Vleuten,

Netherlands (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vleuten), just outside of

Utrecht (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utrecht_(city) ). They need a

new au pair in early August, and after speaking with them on the

phone, we decided we were a good match for each other.

Here is the interesting news. The European Union requires all au

pairs to be 25 or younger, and my 26th birthday is before August. In

order for me to obtain a visa in the Netherlands, I must apply in

person before my 26th birthday.

The solution? I am going to Europe next month! I leave for Amsterdam

on May 12, and while I wait for my job to begin in August, I will take

a short-term au pair position with a German family that owns a wheat

farm on the outskirts of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mecklenburg-Vorpommern).

Three months ago, I would have never guessed I would be preparing to

move to Europe in May.

I received an email from a friend in Madagascar, and protests continue

at the capital. Madagascar is making no progress, and the country is

on the brink of civil war. Many Malagasy people sided with the

opposition leader, Andry, but a large population continues to fight

for now former President Ravalomanana. I have no idea what the future

holds, but I hope the Malagasy people find their way to peace as soon

as possible. This chaos is not the real Madagascar, but THIS IS:

http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/itlKycsbkzu3uuUsevuUoA?feat=directlink,

and http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/EHhI3ydRz1Lx6m7Yy5wdEQ?feat=directlink

and http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kF6zpIMhgs4J3Xn9NRfhoA?feat=directlink.

FYI all, I just posted a few blog updates but have backdated them. I am doing a better job about writing even though I do not frequent the internet these days, so I believe some appreciation is in order!

Bises,

Jess

During my Peace Corps interview (aka interrogation) and nomination process, they stress the difficulties we have at site, especially when it comes to integration. Even with advanced notice I had no idea it would be this difficult. Clearly the first three months at site are the most challenging for that reason, and I have now been on Ile Sainte Marie for more than three months.

Hesitantly, I accepted a job teaching the taxi drivers of Ambodifotatra English. I received word their boss is forcing English on the poor drivers, and I anticipated a class full of people who do not want to be there. Perhaps this is still the case, but I find in a classroom of only 15 people I can let my personality shine and not be such a dictator-such is not possible in my 4eme classes of 75 students. Because I am teaching adults, I can joke around in class and not worry about losing control. If their cell phone rings in class, I take it from them and answer, “Jessica’s English class.” A gasp of fear is the most common reaction on the other end.

I tend to overexaggerate my speech so the drivers get it just right. Most notably is when I make them stick out their tongue and hold it there for the “th” pronunciation, which does not exist in Malagasy and French. The instinct of both Malagasy and French people is to pull their tongue back in, making the “th” sound like “f.” I have Evan, another volunteer in my stage, to thank for that method.

Now that all the taxi drivers know who I am, it seems like the entire island knows me. Even people I have never met say “mbolatsara” now, and that is pretty freaking impressive they recognize me considering all us white folks look the same to people in Madagascar. People also finally realize I am not Heather, one of the previous volunteers who served with her husband. People used to ask me, “Did you get a divorce? Where is Ryan?” But I haven’t heard it in a while.

Speaking of men, it is still strange being single. I used to run to my x with every single problem, but it is expensive, if not impossible, to do so now. I plan on embracing singlehood until I complete my service, but a cool thing happened. About a month ago, I saw probably the best looking guy I’ve seen since my move to Madagascar, but I assumed he was a tourist. We locked eyes for a brief second in the covered vegetable room and he smiled, but I broke contact and left to visit my banana and coconut lady. Before I knew it, there he was at the stand next to me. He smiled again, but I couldn’t bring myself to say hello, or even “bonjour” as most foreigners here are French. I completed my transaction and left without saying anything. Two nights ago, I went to the Princess Bora Hotel for an event, and I saw him again. It appears as though he works on Ile Sainte Marie!

That reminds me…the whole reason why I was at the Princess Bora Hotel was because a team of American archeologists were studying a shipwreck off the coast of Ile Sainte Marie, and the project director, Mike, spoke for guests at the hotel. I ran into Mike on the street, and I pretty much forced him to stop and talk to me because he was the first American I have seen at my site. His team was here during Thanksgiving, and they invited me for one of the most delicious meals I’ve had since moving to Ambodifotatra. We had salad, red wine, mashed potatoes with gravy, goose, green beans and a chocolate cake (I baked the cake in my PC oven). I also brought my adorable book of poems by Jack Prelutsky, New Kid on the Block, and read a poem called I’m Thankful. All in all, it was a fabulous Thanksgiving, especially since I unexpectedly spent it with other Americans! By the way, they have a project website here.

FYI, Ambodifotatra is pronounced like this, Am-boo-dee-foo-tah-tra, but most locals simply say, Am-boo-dee-foo-t. I’ll go into more detail about everything else we abbreviate in Madagascar someday.

During my Peace Corps pre-service training they asked us what our favorite sound is, and I said a vibraslap (with madbard’s mini vibraslap symphony in mind). If they asked me today, I would say the sound of the Ambodifotatra community building a fence around my property. Today was a good day.

For the first time in a few weeks, I did not fantasize about getting on the next plane to the US during my class. For the first time, I felt relaxed and happy in class, and I had a lot of actual fun with my 2nd students. I am so freakishly happy about this fence I feel like I could even extend for a third year if I am successful in preventing little zaza (children) from spying at me through my window.

So far, the construction crew has planted wood posts, and those posts are taller than me. I imagine they will fill the gaps with bamboo like most fences on this island, but I will keep you all posted. Hah, posted…

In recent news, I visited a French couple (Pierre & Anne-Laure) that knew the previous volunteers quite well. They invited me, and one of their Malagasy friends, for drinks last Friday. We enjoyed some Three Horses Beer and Coco Punch (from Ile aux Nattes) and talked until the ungodly hour of 10:30pm, which is equivalent to 2:00am in the USA and Europe.

Turns out there are more volunteers on the island, including some French dude who works in agriculture and is responsible for bringing corn to Ile Sainte Marie. I forgot his name, but when Anne-Laure said he had dreadlocks, I knew who he was instantly. I saw him a few times during my first week here, but I thought he was a tourist. Anyway, the other day I saw that Sainte Marie now has butter and Diet Coke, and if Rasta dude had anything to do with it, I will buy him beaucoup beers.

I have couchsurfers from Poland staying with me in my itty bitty house. They are probably the nicest couple I’ve met in my life. They insist on cooking dinner, cleaning, fetching water, and shopping at the market for me. As I write, they are preparing a big spaghetti meal, and the aroma is phenomenal. Adam has three degrees (physics, economics, and geography), and Beata is a geography teacher. They took a year off to tour the islands of the Indian Ocean. They spent three months on Reunion Island, three months in Mauritius, and now they hope to spend 6 months touring Madagascar. Sainte Marie is their first destination, and next they head up to Maroantsetra and Antalaha, where I’ll put them in touch with other volunteers.

That reminds me, I also met a very nice French couple who toured through here a few weeks ago. Benjamin is an English teacher in Paris, but he and his girlfriend Erica love Sainte Marie so much they want to move here. I put him in touch with the college and lycée in Ambodifotatra, and he said he would love to introduce me to his people in Paris. Woo!

My entire town thinks I am married to JM because, well, if you walk with someone of the opposite sex you must be sleeping with them. But men who do not know that I am a volunteer here constantly hit on me. At first, I ignored them and tried to get away. Then I said, “I have a boyfriend,” but that did not stop them because “boyfriend” means “still available.” Then I said, “I do not want kids,” and they drop me like a hot stone. I had to use that one on a student today.

Some of my male students have a crush on me, and I can say this without hesitation because they do not hide their feelings. I think it is adorable, sort of like that geeky kid from The Sandlot, except in my case I am not a hot lifeguard and will not marry them.

::dinner break::

I just finished dinner with the polish couple, and they tell me their meal is similar to a polish dish that sounds like goampky (I cannot write the actual name as the polish language contains different characters). This goampky dish is the best meal I’ve had in ages, and it was so simple! Speghetti sauce over white rice…who would have known the potential. The actual Polish goampky is different only in that it has cabbage, too, but it is wise to avoid greens in Madagascar as they are difficult to clean and often make people sick.

I am so happy I have visitors. Beata reminds me a lot of my aunt Carol, and as that side of the family is of Polish descent, I am convinced Beata is somehow related.

PS I plan on responding to all personal emails by the end of the week. Gmail has been terrible about letting me log as of late. Grrr...

Because I am only motivated to write on an emotional high, I believe I may have been dramatic in my previous “long rant” entry. Now that most of my family and friends are scared, I feel like I need to do Sainte Marie justice by talking about my favorite things.

I became motivated to write this entry last night around 1am when gecko calls woke me. Geckos live in my house. Yes, beautiful bug killers live in my house and have the most fascinating calls. When I entered this house for the first time I saw three or four geckos scurry into the darkness. Now that I have been here for almost two months, and they no longer hide. I like these geckos so much I thought about giving them a family name, likes the Jones gecko family, but something more creative. Any suggestions? Geico family, perhaps?

The nights in Sainte Marie are amazing. There are no streetlights by my house, so when I go outside it is 100% dark except for the lighthouse and a few boats across the bridge. During my sight visit, I had a tough time sleeping here because the sound of the waves crashing against the shore kept me awake. Now it is like listening to a nature CD, but it is the real thing!

Sainte Marie has fireflies. Enough said.

We all fantasize about living on a small, beautiful, tropical island at some point in our lives, right? Well, this is my chance! Sainte Marie is 57 kilometers long and 5 kilometers wide. Once I get my bike, I can ride around the island! I think I will take the taxi brousse to the north shore for a day this weekend. It will be good to get away.

I made a breakthrough with my next-door neighbors. It seemed the wife and daughter were hesitant to converse with me, but after I killed them with kindness, they gave in. When I make mofo akondro or cakes, I make sure they get some, and now I get a “salaama” and a smile sometimes, which is a massive improvement. The same goes for their kids. I said “mbolatsara” all the time, but they would look away. One day, after they watched me fail at burning my trash, they just jumped in and showed me the ropes. Now I always let them help me with trash, and they looooove it. They help me gather dried leaves, and whenever the flames get really big they giggle like the little school girls and boys they are. Two of them like opening the well doors for me, and one day after I hauled 12 buckets of water to my house, they gave me a standing ovation.

Peace Corps sent me a nightlight. At first, they told me they could not find one, and then I got a surprise package in the mail. I still have Mefloquine nightmares, but now when I wake up the hallucinations are not nearly as bad because I can see. For those of you that offered to send me a nightlight, thank you so much! You are all dears, all of you, and I love you!

It is amazing how things start to get better after you release your frustrations on the WWW. Well, class was well today. I feel like my 4eme students are getting a little bit better for being teenagers. I received one of the best emails in my life from Aaron, a high school friend and former PCV in China. It is amazing how similar experiences can be in two completely different countries. I incorporated some of his advice in today’s lessons, and it seemed to go well. I also received tons of emails from family and friends, and I feel so lucky to have so many great people in my life that support whatever I do. You all are my rock!

FYI, I am feeling a lot better now that I have listed my frustrations on my blog. Today was a good day. The 4eme classes went well, and for lunch I made a big American lunch...a hamburger and fries. Mmmmmm....

I am pleased to report I had an awesome 2 hour class with my 2nd I kids this afternoon. They know the jeopardy song!

I do not even know where to begin complaining. Perhaps I will categorize the issues so I do not miss anything.

My house:

If I remember correctly, a secure home is the foundation for Maslow’s pyramid of needs. Without a foundation, it is impossible to consider much else, and that is where my troubles begin.

I live on the grounds of the EPP (elementary school), so maybe a hundred kids run around my house, screaming, on a daily basis. Kids have the right to be rambunctious at times, but some of the children are downright cruel. It began with people simply looking in my house through my door and window. Eventually I got curtains for both the door and window so I could have them open for air and light, but I could shield the stares. That only worked for so long before children entered my home uninvited. I began closing my door, but then the pounding began…:::pounding::”Vaazaha!!!”::pounding:: Many of them have brothers or sisters (or both) and the CEG (junior high) and lycée (high school) where I teach, and now they know my name. They knock on my house and shout at me. I cannot even keep my window open because kids throw trash in my house. I took the ignore approach, but then the rock throwing began. In an effort to stop this, I told certain influential figures in town, but alas, nothing has changed.

I requested a fence, but the mayor in town has not approved it yet. I received word that the town may feel I am being unreasonable in requesting a fence since it will block off part of the children’s play area, but my thought is if they will not stop harassing me then I have no qualms with taking more space to receive the privacy they promised.

Lately my CEG students have been hanging out outside my house in the afternoon, and they too like to shout at me. Sometimes I wish I had high castle walls surrounding my house so I can block everyone out.

A family of mice recently moved into my roof, and the bug problem has been worse lately. I imagine with summer around the corner it will only get worse, but the geckos that live in my house are probably pleased about the approaching hot months. I chase both children and chickens out of my house, but the other day I allowed one chicken to stay, and she ate ants, so I might allow them to chill out more often.

I considered asking my town for a different house that is not located on any school grounds, but I put so much work into this one it would be a terrible waste of money. I have completely rearranged and redecorated this house, and I would go as far as calling it fashionable, Madagascar standards. When I get to a faster net connection, photos will follow.

CEG:

The root of all evil is 4eme students. Never have I ever met so many disrespectful, little jerks. I realize teenagers around the globe are assholes, but when there are 75 to a class, it seems unbearable. 75 whining kids who do not want to learn English times three, because I have three sections of 4eme. They so badly do not want to learn English it looks painful for them to sit through my class. I have tried being nice and incorporating interesting topics and games into each class. I have tried being mean, but nothing works for these kids. They never stop talking, ever, and they think it is a real hoot when they hear an Anglo person speak Malagasy. Last week I walked out on one of my 4eme classes, but yesterday I “allowed” them to be good so they can make up their exam grade. The director had a talk with the students, finally, and they seemed quite tame yesterday, but completely miserable at the same time. I think it takes a special person to teach junior high kids, and that special person is not me.

Lycée:

I really enjoy the lycée. Most of the kids are engaged (you will never get them all), and some even want an English club so they can get extra practice. I feel the benefits of having a native speaker are far greater after the students have studied the language a few years, and I like how I can explain complex topics to the lycée students…topics that even make me think and learn new things about English. Not all of the kids are good, however. There is one student I have in mind that is excellent with English, but still the class clown. He constantly tests my limits, and I constantly shoot down his attempts. He asks to go to the restroom every class. The first few times I let him, but today I told him no because he it was becoming habitual. I decided I would not allow students use the water closet during class now. He is very outspoken and has to comment on everything I say, often getting a laugh from surrounding students. Today he drew marijuana leaves on his nametag, but I have shopped at Spencer’s, and I am not offended.

Adult Classes:

People do not want English classes here, not even to help their tourism industry. I guess that is my money driven western mind thinking in dollars again. I feel like I am part of the Peace Corps crusades, traveling great distances to force English down their throats. English became the third official language of Madagascar this year, but it will be at least 50 years before the people catch on.

French:

While my region is perhaps the most French in all of Madagascar, I do not feel I will reach fluency on Ile Sainte Marie. Learning French was one of my selfish reasons for joining Peace Corps, and it was a real let down when I found out I would not get that in Madagascar. I am considering alternatives to Peace Corps so I can get that experience, like teaching English in Paris instead, but it is near impossible to get work papers for France unless I get married to an EU citizen (anybody want to get married? Kidding.). I am considering other options like French speaking Swiss cities. I have thought about Belgium, Brugge in mind. I have even thought about becoming an au pair because the visa process is easier, though I think I am getting a little bit too old to babysit children.

Loneliness:

So yeah, even with the tourists that come through town, life gets lonely on Ile Sainte Marie. Travel to mainland Madagascar is super expensive, and everything at my site has a high price tag as well (we are making Malagasy wages). It would be awesome if I could see other Americans or even English speakers occasionally so I can recharge my sanity. I am fortunate to have the internet at my site, but the connection is not fast enough for web conferencing, and, let us face it, computers cannot replace being in the presence of another human being.

I think I will make the journey to mainland Madagascar during our one-week vacation in November. Some volunteers are getting together for community activities, and it will be nice to see people for an extended period. I find it incredible that I am in such a low funk when I am living on a tiny tropical island in a house that overlooks the Indian Ocean. I must sound so ungrateful, but I am thankful for my experience thus far, and I appreciate my breathtaking view on a daily basis.

I have a few Malagasy friends, but friendship is different in Madagascar from in the USA and Europe. If you simply know someone’s name, they are your friend, often your best friend. Apparently the volunteers who were here before me were best friends with everybody. I doubt they had enough time to be friends with everyone, western standards.

The problem I have with getting super close to Malagasy people is they have an incredibly money driven culture. They constantly ask how much money you have, and how much you paid for items at the market. People here have so few good things for themselves that western people look like millionaires. I bought a cheap $10 watch from Target to bring with me, and my Malagasy friend Anita constantly admires it, claiming it must have cost a fortune. When you convert $10 into Ariary, it is approximately 15,000 Ariary. That is indeed a lot of money to Malagasy people. A $10 Target watch is excellent quality in Madagascar, and it would sell for 30,000 Ariary. I tried to explain the concept of mass production in the United States and that it makes merchandise cheaper for us, but as such does not exist in Madagascar, it is difficult for them to understand.

To Malagasy people, my Target watch is a Rolex. My point of this story is if I brought someone into my house, it would look like a treasure chest to them, even though I left my best cloths and everything in California. Malagasy people are also notorious for gossiping, so while Anita may have no ill intention, she might tell someone who does, and next thing you know someone will rob me of mentioned items or more. It sounds dramatic, but it is reality in Peace Corps. Oh, and Malagasy people have no shame in asking for your possessions. None.

Therefore, I have built an invisible brick wall at the entrance of my house, and I feel incredibly violated when kids sneak in my house for said reasons.

With that said, I really do enjoy the company of Malagasy people most days, and I think they have an incredibly unique and interesting culture. I talk to people at the markets and around town when I can. Sometimes I take random walks so I can get out and see people. Sometimes that blows over the depression spell, and sometimes it does not.

I am lucky because I had a surprise visitor from Paris, JM, who stayed about a week in Sainte Marie. We went to Il aux Nattes for the weekend, and we were incredibly impressed with the pedestrian only island. The beaches were gorgeous, and you could snorkel right off the beach around small reefs. While I was glad for the company, I also realized how much I missed Europe, and I think going back to France would be the best career move for me. Besides, I am a city girl. I love the metro, crowds of people, tourists and noise. I love four Euro kebabs by Bastille, my old boulangerie, Fran prix and how Europeans dance shamelessly.

::Ella Fitzgerald’s “I love Paris” plays in the background::

Why I am staying (for now):

Despite my laundry list of reasons for leaving, I have a few big reasons for staying.

I have a dog now, Brother. The previous volunteers cared for him, and I do not want to abandon this amazingly gentile and awesome dog.

I started this Peace Corps journey over a year ago with the application process, and it would be a pity to throw my work away.

I want to prove to myself I can live in an uncomfortable environment for an extended period. I thought this would make me appreciate all that I have back home, and so far it is working.

I wanted to test my emotional limits. Peace Corps’ slogan is this is “The toughest job you’ll ever love.”

I wanted immersion in another culture and language (though I was hoping the language would be French).

I love my Peace Corps colleagues, and I do not want to leave them, even though I almost never get to see them.

I do not want to let people down at home. I think I would feel like a complete loser for leaving at this point. I also feel I would disappoint my close friend Cassie who is a second year volunteer in Panama.

I do not want to disappoint the community of Sainte Marie. Even though there are many jerks here, a few people appreciate I am donating two years of my life to their town.

The magic of Peace Corps, for me, has diminished, and I am trying to find more reasons to stay.

In an effort to prevent getting Malaria, Peace Corps has provided us with meds we take either weekly, or daily. I currently take Mefloquine, the weekly medicine, but the side effects are quite terrible. Mefloquine causes hallucinations and vivid dreams in some who take it, and I have both.

I have had a few terrible dreams and hallucinations. For me, they tend to happen at the same time so it is one, big terrible night. Most notable is one I have had twice where I think spiders are in my bed. I wake up but then the hallucinations begin, and I screamed and tore my mosquito net down. I would make a big mess of my room struggling to find the light and wake up the neighbors in the process.

Last night my dream was about a snake trying to bite me, and I woke with a bloody bed as I strangled my pillow. A recent cut reopened and spewed blood EVERYWHERE.

I am unsure if nightlights are available in Madagascar, but I am going to check the markets today.

Today was a bad day. Before I get into how bad it was, I would like to quickly brief on how I start my English classes.

I begin by introducing myself, talking about all the countries where people speak English, why English is relevant to their life, and the rules for my classroom written in Malagasy. These rules include things like, “Do not cheat on tests” and goes on to explain what cheating is according to my American standards along with, “respect your classmates” and “copy from the blackboard quietly.” I have observed Malagasy classes in passing, and the students appear to have a great deal of respect for their professors. I feel like it is not the case with me, and this has caused problems in my 4eme classes.

The CEG was cancelled my first classes because they were not finished with the classrooms that were destroyed in February’s cyclone. Those were two-hour classes, and two out of three hours is quite a bit. On top of cancelled classes, Madagascar has a curriculum that is already unrealistic to accomplish in a year, and the kids of Sainte Marie must deal with missing their second semester after the cyclone terrorized the island. Now I have to cover a year and a half of material that would realistically be more suitable for two years or more.

I cannot waste time in class, yet that is all we do. These kids will not settle down and pay attention, and when there are 75 of them, it is impossible to do it alone. In the United States, there is always a class clown, but in Madagascar, there are more because classes have 70+ students. These clowns have zero respect for me and get the other kids so riled up it is impossible to settle them, let alone hold class. I’ve asked them nicely, I’ve threatened to give them bad grades…hell today I even walked out on my 4eme class (I didn’t think I had that in me), but it doesn’t work. I also spoke to the director, and his response is along the lines of, “Really? But the 4eme students are such gentle creatures!” Bah, not so gentle with me. So I am in this rut because I cannot seem to control these classes, but if I continue my service I have to deal with it. I’d love to show these students I am a nice person, but the nicer you are, the more they walk over you.

I do have positive news to report, however. My 2nd students are phenomenal. I do not have to yell. I can stand in front of the class without saying a word, and the students immediately get the hint class is beginning and ready themselves to learn.

In all my classes I write the agenda so the students know what is coming and when we are done. The 2nd students love this because I always put something fun at the end, like some sort of game. Today I took a silly girls game I learned in junior high called “lemon” and changed it to an English game. I had the students choose 5 nouns, 5 verbs and 5 other nouns (places), and then I fiddled with numbers to scramble each part to create silly sentences, like “The Swiss Alps ate the church” and “The rice danced to the school.” Of course these are absolute nonsense, but the students are smart enough to know that, and had fun.

::break::thenextday::

I visited the director of the CEG today to discuss the 4eme classes, and he said he spoke with them after I walked out on that class. I am going to try to take a new approach with these students and hope the director’s talk persuaded them to behave better.

PS I backdated two entries (16 Sept & 28 June) I forgot about!

Malagasy ants eat everything, including first aid cream and laundry detergent.

I returned to the bazaar today and alas, the bitchy woman was present and had the only decent fish. I did not get fish yesterday so I decided to try her booth again. She was not mean this time. Rather, she seemed interested in why I was shopping there and asked if I was visiting long term. I told her I am a Peace Corps volunteer, and I will teach at the CEG and Lycée for two years. She responded with, “two weeks?” I replied, “no, two years.” “Are you serious? You will be here for two years?” “Yes, I will teach at the Lycée and CEG for two years.” She smiled, and then gave me the best fish in the lot.

My fish cleaning skills are improving with each meal. Previously I scraped scales before gutting the fish, but I found that my grip was too tight, crushing the organs and creating bloody fish meat. Today, I gutted the fish before scraping scales, and I have taken a step towards a cosmetically attractive fish. I also decided to return from my no rice vacation and made curry vary mena (curry red rice). Despite the amount of mofo akondro I have consumed lately, I still cannot get enough, and I enjoyed that for dessert.

Today I managed to solve a huge problem I have had since my arrival. Before I get into the problem, I must brief you all on the electricity situation at my site. I have electricity, but it is limited. I share electricity with two families, an office and the EPP, so I need to watch my consumption or the electricity simply shuts off for everyone. In an effort to conserve electricity during the day, I keep my window and door open like everyone else in Madagascar, but I have had a big problem with people stopping to look in my house through my window and door. The community is supposed to build a fence for me, but I know even that will not stop spectators. It got so bad that people would stand from a far distance at an angle just right so they could see me in my house. I live on the grounds of the EPP, and there were often groups of men that would hang out outside of classrooms so they can check me out.

It does not stop there. I live on a hill, and there is a narrow walkway by my window. The only people that have reason to be there are the neighboring families and me, but strange men would walk that pathway so they could look through my window. Eventually I started shutting the door and window when they did this to send a message, and it worked for the window, but not for the door. Today I purchased a magic curtain. This curtain is amazing! Firstly, it is light purple so it is consistent with the color theme of my house. Secondly, I can see through the curtain to the outside world, but the world cannot see me. Thirdly, it is a lace curtain so I can still enjoy my fresh ocean breeze. I have had my door open all day with my magic curtain and ocean breeze, and I finally feel at ease.

A dog named Kid has adopted me here in Madagascar. Before we met he was nameless, but I cannot imagine having a nameless dog. American and European pirates once inhabited Ile Sainte Marie, and it is famous for being the final resting place for William Kid, aka Billy the Kid. I visited his tomb, and I have named my new little friend Kid in his honor.

Most dogs in Madagascar look alike: black with some white and resemble an ancestor of the Labrador. Kid is no exception, but I think he is cuter than the rest of the dogs in Ambodifotatra. Unfortunately, in general Malagasy people treat dogs poorly. In America and Europe, we have cats and dogs for companionship and more often than not, they are overfed, but here animals work as garbage disposals only, and that is if they are lucky. It is common for people to kick their dog and let it go without food for several days. Most people do not have a car in Madagascar, but those who do have no qualms with hitting animals on the street.

I have grown to love Kid, and I have considered taking him with me at the close of my service, but I think it would be impossible to domesticate this dog. For the past week, I have sat with Kid on my porch and watched the sunset over the ocean, his head resting on my leg while I stroke his back. The other night I heard a dog fight outside, and I cannot help but to assume Kid was involved because he had a terrible limp the following day. I tried to persuade him with food to sleep inside last night, but he was restless and anxious, so I let him go. I want to shield this dog from danger, but the sad truth is I just cannot do that.

I do feed him though. Unlike dogs in the US, dogs in Madagascar can eat anything, and they do. Kid eats fish, fish bones, bread, cookies, French fries, mofo akondro, pasta and anything else I throw his way, minus carrots. Dog food and cat food do not exist here because dogs and cats eat people food, usually the leftovers from meals. I have gotten good at cooking for one person, but now I try to cook extra so Kid can eat, too. I keep bolo cookies on hand in case he visits during non-meal times.

Bolo cookies are amazing. I did not like them at first, but my food standards have significantly decreased since I have lived here, and now I like Bolo cookies almost as much as Kit Kat bars. Bolo cookies are two round chocolate covered cookies that taste like Costco animal crackers and have vanilla, strawberry, or banana filling. They remind me of cheap Easter candy, but when that is the best thing in the country, it may as well level with Godiva chocolate.

Speaking of chocolate, Malagasy chocolate is gross, but I have grown fond of Robert Chocolate. Some French dude named Robert started producing chocolate in Madagascar in 1947 because there was none. Robert Chocolate is by far the best in country, but it would not be my first, or even tenth choice in the US or Europe. I fear the fine taste buds I developed in France may have diminished in a matter of months. Before you know it, I will think sauerkraut juice is delicious!

Returning to Europe is definitely in my future. I am already investigating the best way to obtain my visa for a Schengen country, preferably France. After teaching here for two years with limited to no resources, I will be ready to teach anywhere, and I hope that will be Europe, fingers crossed!

Yesterday I had a rough morning because the fish lady at the bazaar was upset I could not understand her 10,000 words/minute Malagasy sentences. Excuse me, lady, for not being born speaking Malagasy! She also charged me more because she was one of two fish booths that day, and I imagine the fact that I am a vaazaha (foreigner) does not help. I paid 1800 Ariary for ½ kilo, but I must say it was excellent fish. I continued to the vegetable section to buy potatoes from a woman who tried to keep my change. I returned the potatoes and bought them from someone else.

I realize these are small events, but they put me in a bad mood until I got home and ate the delicious fish for brunch. Midway through eating, a French tourist I met in town, Leslie, stopped by to say hello. After I ate, I spent the rest of the afternoon practicing my French and walking the town with her. We hung out at Alliance Française for a bit, and I met the cultural coordinator, Jean Claude, who is organizing a play about the history of Ile Sainte Marie. He needs help with tech and English speakers to play pirates, so arrr matey, looks like I will be doing a bit of theatre while here.

I took Leslie to the CEG (junior high) where I will work. February’s cyclone destroyed the school, but the city rebuilt enough classes to hold sessions this year. We continued down the road to an area that is primarily residential. As we passed a private Catholic EPP (elementary school), St. Joseph’s, one of the teachers called us into her class so her five and 6-year-old students could see vaazaha. By the end of our visit, Leslie had a pen pal, and I committed to returning in October to speak to her Sunday school class.

We also met a Malagasy dressmaker, Corine, who married a Swiss man and had, by far, the most beautiful children in the world, one named Jessica who looks a lot like Tyra Banks.

Today was a good day. I returned to the fish booths and the bitchy woman from yesterday was absent. There was a poor selection of fish, and I asked one of the fish women, in Malagasy, if there were any large fish. She said no, maybe tomorrow, and as I walked away she turned to her friend and said, “Woah she speaks some Malagasy.” I now have a regular woman who I purchase bananas and coconuts from, and she gave me the crème de la crème today. After lunch, I made mofo akondro, sliced bananas fried in pancake mix, for desert, and then I walked to the Pirate Cemetery to see if I could remember how to get there on my own.

Wherever you are, Malagasy people are watching and they want to show you the way to make a few extra Ariary. I was almost to the cemetery, walking through water that rose to my knees, when two boys in a canoe insisted on rowing me to shore. I said, “Tsisy Ariary zaha (I do not have Ariary)” and that was enough for them to go away. Then an even younger boy insisted on helping me across some slippery rocks and continued to follow me to the cemetery even though I had no Ariary or cadeau (gift) for him. I found out he is one of my future students in 4eme, and I had met him before during my first trip to the cemetery back in July. He was incredibly sweet, and it is when I meet, or re-meet, people like this that makes me want to be here.

Sometimes I want to go home. Sometimes I just want a cold beverage, In-N-Out Burgers and a flushing toilet. Sometimes I think I am torturing myself by staying here, but seeing how much I have grown as a person having been here only three months I am, at the very least, curious how I will be after two years.

I am bummed my closest friend in Peace Corps went home, but I know it was the best decision for her. One of my other favorite people is going home too, but there was a huge problem at site Peace Corps was unwilling or unable to resolve. When people early terminate (ET) it is like your coworker in the next cubical quit or got fired without notice, and it leaves an empty cubical and feeling. I hope the rest of our group settles in well, likes their students and generally enjoys their new life. The level of friendship achieved through the Peace Corps experience is rare and extraordinary, and I would be deeply saddened if we lost another.

Cleaning a fish is as easy as pie.

Rip out the guts, and try not to cry!

I miss how in the US you go to the supermarket and buy a nice fillet with no bones, eyes or guts. Today I went to the bazaar with a Malagasy friend to find out where I should buy the creme de la creme of fish, and that is exactly what I bought. For 700 Ariary I bought half a kilo of fresh fish (about $0.40), and I had a feast tonight, fish and chips English style! I am still taking a vacation from rice. After eating heaping plates of rice with little to no veggies and meat for three meals a day with my host family, I am going to avoid rice like the plague (unless it's vary mena, red rice, miam miam).

Side note, my neighbors watch a nightly show that plays the Twilight Zone theme (but has an intro in French). Because there is no privacy I know these things.

Mbolatsara all,

That is "hello" in my Malagasy dialect called Betsimasaraka North. Thus far my experience in Madagascar has been nothing less than incredible. I've made some major living adjustments such as no running water, limited electricity and sleeping under mosquito nets, but things are going well. On August 22nd I complete my training, swear in as a volunteer, and move to my new home for the next two years, Ile Sainte Marie. Ile Sainte Marie, aka Nosy Boraha, is a small island off the east coast of Madagascar and is home to some of the most beautiful beaches in Madagascar. It is a popular tourist destination for French people, so in theory I have a chance at improving my French as well. My time at this net cafe is limited, but I thought I'd let you all know I'm alive and well.

Veloma,

Jess

I just wrapped up my Peace Corps orientation in Philadelphia. Today we take a coach to NYC where we catch our flight to Africa. I won't have electricity for three months. So long, and have a fabulous summer!

My class bus to Giverny and Rouen left early today, leaving me and a few other students behind. Lame. I don't want to leave France w/o seeing those cities, so I think I'll make the trip myself my last weekend in France. While it is nice to have more time to prep for Amanda's arrival, I am sad I have to pay for this trip twice now when money is already tight. I wonder if non French citizens can collect lottery winnings...

I just received the godfather packet of info from the Peace Corps, and my date moved up again! June 8th! Luckily I can go that day, but wowzers, they should really tell me these things.

On another note, it is a hot day in Paris. I am sure I heard my next-door neighbor practicing timpanies in his living room this morning, and right now I hear a trumpet and trombone. I wonder if he is starting a band...??? After a busy week it is nice to finally sit down and relax (to a free concert). Tomorrow I will take a day trip to Giverny to see Monet's gardens and Rouen with a class, and afterwards I will meet my friend Amanda who arrives from the US tomorrow. She'll stay with me in Paris for a few days, and I am already figuring out how I can show her EVERYTHING with limited time and introduce her to a few French people. Should be fun.

I am seriously considering moving back to France after PC. I'll miss this place. :(

Apparently tradition is kids stick paper fish on people's back unbeknownst to them. The Accent staff provided us with fish, and on my class outing today we stuck fish on people's backs in the Subway. Yep, we're 12.

Awww, my friends are so sweet! Received this article today.

Oh, also found out if I didn't take this Madagascar assignment then Cameroon was the next option which was on my do not travel list because the American Red Cross bans donors who have been to said country. Thank Buddha I didn't have to make that decision! I'll take a war over that.

PS Quelle bizzare. We had the time change here in France yesterday, and it's still light outside at 20h!

I anticipated my placement person's phone call last week, but I was not expecting it on a Saturday! When I answered the call, I was on a crowded subway in Paris on my way home from checking out the good shopping deals in Montmartre. With screaming children and tourists in the background, I insisted she call back when I got home. I found a quiet place in my room close to the window as reception is weak here and answered her final questions. She accepted me over the phone and she told me she would send my invite material via email in 15 minutes. Those must have been the longest 15 minutes of my life! I was so happy, and I did not even know the country yet! When the email arrived I was chatting with a good friend who is serving in Panama, and I was pleased she could be the first know I am going to Madagascar! I could not be happier to be assigned to such a fascinating country rich with unique wildlife and culture. I plan to call PC placement later today and officially accept my assignment. I leave June 9th.

Funny thing is I went to a Peace Corps event in Pasadena a while back where I spent a large part of my evening talking with two recently returned volunteers from Madagascar who told me about how they missed what they once thought was a weird dish: caterpillars and cockroaches. I downloaded episodes of Man vs. Wild and will make myself watch them in preparation for my Madagascar adventure and service.

Did you know baking soda and brown sugar are near impossible ingredients to find in Paris? I went to an ethnic foods store, an American grocery store called McCoy off Ecole Militaire, to get these for my cookies. It's funny to think of American as an ethnicity as we are the land of immigrants, but then you see Oreos and Jiff Peanut Butter at the American grocery store and you feel at home. I have also grown to love food here in France and it brings tears to my eyes to think I'll never find Saint Paulin fromage in the US.

I feel my French has greatly improved since I have been here. While I am still far from being fluent, I am comfortable speaking the French I do know. I feel like my French language class is a complete review of French 1 and 2 and a few concepts from French 3 which would be a disappointment if I weren't in Paris, but since I am here it is actually nice to brush up on minuscule concepts I may have forgotten. The problem with learning French in California is no one there speaks French! Go to a French restaurant and they still don't speak French. But come here and you are thrown into a situation where it's necessary to put said skills to use. One thing I struggle with is talking with more than one or two French people at a time. When they speak quickly it's difficult to understand. I feel comfortable asking a couple of people to slow down, but not an entire group. Tonight I am attending a French birthday party, and I am crossing my fingers and toes I can keep up, and if I can't, I hope they do not switch to English just for me.

Time to get ready for my day.

Don't do it. I have the worst headache of my life right now.

aka Happy Easter en français. I am happy to report it is a slightly overcast but gorgeous day in Paris. I haven't been outside all day but I can admire the world from my window that overlooks the backyard garden and the surrounding neighborhood. Right now my French mom, who I call Mutti, is holding her annual widows party which sounds depressing but after observing them it appears as though they couldn't be having a better day. Four old French women with wine and great food in central Paris = fun! Perhaps my favorite part of being in Paris is simply having this opportunity to observe French life first hand and even take part in it from time to time. I just ate lunch and now I am enjoying a nice bottle of bordeaux wine. Somehow my two weeks in Morocco converted me from a white to a red wine person, and now I am having a blast trying all these decadent French red wines for a small price tag. I would bet this same wine would run for $30+ at BevMo, but I am enjoying it here in Paris for a reasonable €4.

This weekend I made progress in preparing my photos for the public. As I write, my Luxembourg and Belgium photos finished uploading, and I think they are worth checking out! I will work on captions later today perhaps. In Luxembourg I saw the American Cemetery, Notre Dame, and found a neat graffitied up area. Saw the statue of Mannekin Pis and the Grand Place in Brussels. Also enjoyed the chocolates and Belgian waffles, as seen in the photos. And then I continued on to Brugge, now one of my favorite European cities. I visited the Chocolate Museum, Lamp Museum, Diamond Exhibit and wandered the gorgeous, canal packed city.

Now I just have a few small photo projects before completing the God father of them all, Morocco!

I received a response from yesterday's email. My anticipated departure date is June 9th, and a placement person is supposed to call by the end of the month to make sure I am perfectly qualified for the position. They were not supposed to tell me a date, but given my travels they made an exception for me so I can make sure I am back in the States by then. Yay, progress.