While I do enjoy its being so cool lately, I am so sick of this damn rain.

I can't take my shower, yet again, and I'll probably be peeing in a Possotome bottle later.

Sheesh.

Plus, I think I have a fungal infection developing on my legs.

Today was fine. I spent most of it alone, which was nice.

Some woman stopped by to show me her white (albino) baby. How lovely. Why do I care?

Then these damn three girls came to see my stuff and sat in my yard and stared at me. They asked for water and I said no. I'm sick to death of all this shit.

Maman came by to bake cookies, which I promised to teach her, go through all the hassel and she then tells me she already knew how and they're too salty anyway. Then, to inform me subtly that my house is dirty, she has one of the kids sweep it and take out the trash, probably so she can be sure it's thoroughly gone through.

And, of course, I just love how people talk in Nagot about me in my own home.

I don't know. Everything is just getting on my nerves lately.

I'm tired of being an object. I'm tired of people critisizing me and how I live and treating me like a toy.

And I'm really sick of people asking me how much things cost. Whose business is it anyway? I'm f-ing sick of this culture and these atrocious people and their anal-retentive, self-riteous, annoying ways.

And, I'm sick of myself for not being able to handle this better. I'm ashamed of some of the things I think and of how rude I am.

And sometimes, I enjoy it.

I feel like I just want to take all of this frustration out on someone.

I have got to get through this. It's awful.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Wow, it felt really good to have a day off. But I still didn't get to any fun stuff like reading or sewing. Grading and letters and that was it.

Then English club with the professors.

The Director is still pissed at me over yesterday, and I'm not sure why it's such a big deal. Probably because I, a woman, had the gall to contradict him in front of his peers. Who knows?

The English club should be okay, though Professor E is honestly the most annoying person ever. Luckily though, everyone knows it, too. But it looks like I'll be leading discussions and such and lecturing, though I feel odd lecturing people 20 years my senior.

Luckily, I ran into the SG and he recommended the club for students and when I said Prof E had said no one would want to he said he never should have said that and to try anyway. I love the SG.

And I like all my other colleagues, but I fear Prof J wants to marry me. I feel very "hit on" whenever we speak.

Oh, well.

I got a package from Dad yesterday and today I tried to listen to the X-Files he audiotaped for me, but I have to wait until tomorrow because it's too scary for at night.

Isn't that silly?

RA sent me a letter and we are living parallel lives in so many ways. It's so nice to hear from someone going through all the same things I am.

Well, I really want to get to Tolstoy before I get too sleepy, so, night.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Well, one thing is for sure: when it rains in Africa, it RAINS in Africa.

Sheesh. It is nuts outside right now.

But it's kind of nice because at least it's Thursday and my weekend has begun! And thank God, because I'm sick of the little tyrants and I'm sick of myself for not having the strength and patience to function better here.

Today, I got into a fight with my Director over my grillage. He ended up telling me I was tired and to go home. I was crying by the time I got here and I'm sure the munisier thought I was nuts.

So, I laid down on my bed and cried for the first time since stage. I think it was a mix of normal adjustment issues and PMS. It's just really hard to live everyday in a culture where you're viewed as rich and powerful and so everyone is either jealous of you or wants to be your best friend. But it's like no one ever just says, "How are you?" Or thinks it might be difficult for you to be so far from home, alone, and in a wierd place, doing a new job, learning a new language.

They constantly ask and expect things of me, but I realized I never hear "thank you" or "good job." Just, I feel like, "Why are you being such a pain in the ass spoiled brat yovo?"

It's hard.

I think I'm at that tough spot, and I know I'll get through it, but I think I'm starting to see the effects of being alone and feeling like you're losing your sense of self and values.

I feel like I have no footing anywhere.

And I feel dirty because I couldn't take a shower because of the rain.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Whew, finally, tomorrow is the end of my week. And now that they took away 5eme F, my day isn't so late, which is nice.

The last few days have been pretty good. I've been very frustrated in class, but otherwise, I'm pretty happy. I've got to learn to keep my patience in class, or else my students will walk all over me.

I realized today how truly lonely I am when mama introduced me to an Australian missionary. Seeing a white person who could speak English, well, I wanted to hug her. I was happy for a good hour after. I had no idea I felt so alone until I reacted to her that way.

It also helped because she told me it's normal to hit that slump where everything frustrates you and annoys you, and I think I'm there, so it helped to hear someone say it's normal and I will come out of it.

Soon, I hope.

Plus, I got a great letter from J today and a neat one from K yesterday.

The people at my school are starting to drive me insane. They change my schedule and don't tell me, the grillage guys never show up when they say, and they do shitty work. They've been putting up six screens for three days now, and I can put my hand through one of the spaces they've left.

And I'm tired and for some reason have no desire to write lately, so bye.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Ah, a much better day, probably because I'm now busy as hell with school.

Better teaching, too. It'll still be a while before I'm any good, but I'm getting better. I'm real scared for my evaluation. I hope it isn't for a while.

I had a slight down bit today, but mostly I was fine. I think it really was the isolation that was getting to me. I need to just be able to listen to myself and see people when I need to see people.

That, and I think mephloquine once every eight days is good. I had no problem sleeping yesterday and I always have trouble on night #1.

Je suis tres heureuse maintenant.

I'll definitely be seeing Mom and sis this summer, which is awesome. They want to meet in Spain. That'll be fun.

I'm kind of sad they can't come here though. No one will know what I've been through.

This really is a process and I think it's definitely making me stronger. I just know I do things and deal with things I never knew I could before. I like that feeling.

But I also like the feeling of a warm bath and pizza.

Oh well, this is temporary, as A says, in two years it'll all be waiting for me. That's a great perspective.

Off to read and listen to a tape from home and then to sleep.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Well, what a good thing it was that I got the hell out of town. That really helped.

I talked to sis on the phone and oddly enough, she said Mom had been sad all week, just knowing something was wrong with me. We are so connected. That is strange. But Mom was in California so I couldn't talk to her, but talking with sis was great.

And just seeing people was wonderful. I just wish the trip wasn't so exhausting. Whew.

I think either my depression was mephloquine-related or I was just homesick and lonely and didn't know it.

Everyone has been kind of a wreck lately. I guess we're at that stage.

So, I'm beginning to think that squirrel cage is just my form of depression and it creeps up to block whatever is really bothering me. I hadn't felt sad for home at all, but talking about things with the girls and talking with sis made me see it, I think. I've been near crying and very crabby since Saturday night.

So, I'm dealing with it better now.

I got home and Peace Corps had dropped off tons of mail for me and boat packages and family ones and letters and I have been in a great mood ever since. I won't need to buy food for a month! And I got a letter from K, which was great. I thought he'd forgotten me but he misses me and his letter had been at the bureau for a month. I'm glad I wrote him last week.

So, I feel better now that I'm dealing with the actual problem, and I actually feel happy to be back. It helps to know that in two weeks, I'll see everyone in Parakou. I think I need to just accept that I need to see people every two to three weeks, and quit torturing myself with this endurance test crap.

I'll go nuts.

I'm looking forward to seeing J.

Not looking forward to teaching. Everyday, my enthusiasm just dwindles. I've got to think of a way to keep myself motivated.

I had fun tonight taking my family the stuff I brought from Cotonou. I also gave them some Pop Rocks that came in a package and it was an absolute riot watching them try it. They thought it was so funny how they popped. I may have sis send me some every once in a while for them. They were so cute. I got 'em popcorn and a pineapple, too. I also got a pineapple for the SG and Michel's family, for helping me so much.

Oh, and of course, the grillage that they swore would be on my house Friday morning is, of course, still not here, which means it'll probably be this Friday, maybe, when I get it. Reassuring, since J has malaria and I've put msyelf on once every eight days mephloquine to alleviate the psychotic bouts.

Sheesh.

I still feel like my COS date will never come.

But I'm okay here, for now.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Well, you know, I do believe it may be the mephloquine. I woke up this morning and felt like a new person. Like I could physically feel that the depression and worries had lifted from my brain.

I looked back and noticed most of the bad days do coincide with Saturday through Monday, or even Wednesday, and start to subside at the end, in just enough time for me to take that crap again.

So, I don't think I can see the med people tomorrow, but I may try (yeah, right) and if not, I'll make a November appointment. I need to get out for a while anyway, what the hell? It'll do me good to see M and get mail and call home.

I'm glad I'm deciding to give myself a break and I think maybe just deciding to go has really picked me up a lot. So, that's that.

Teaching was so-so today and I had my first school meeting, which I got half of (French), and after I went to a bar with my colleagues.

An amusing experience.

Well, I'm off to bed so I can be pumped to travel.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Almost at midway of month five.

Just 16 more days or two weekends or three weeks until I see people again and can put a slash on my board.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

This will be brief. I'm tired and it's a bit later than usual for me after dinner at the Izam's.

Whew, what a horrible teaching day. Something very awry with my lesson plan plus me in a bad mood plus fidgety kids does not a good day make. I hope someday I just get good at this and don't have to stand in front of everyone making an ass out of myself.

But I am feeling a bit better about life in general and am quite happy when I'm not wondering or remembering that I'm not happy and wondering if that's my own fault and how to fix it.

I got a ton of mail today, which was great.

K sent me two lovely wedding rings--quite pretty and much more convincing.

G wrote and they can't figure out what is wrong with him, so he got medevaced. That really freaked me out. I hope he's okay and I hope he can come back. He was really disappointed. I think I would be, too. It's wierd to know he's out of the country. J has malaria, which is wierd. My guess is he quit taking his mephloquine.

Mom and sis wrote and they were great, but I guess Grandad is really bad. I have a feeling he'll be gone when I get back, and that really wierds me out. I feel like we'd be ready to really know each other when I got back. I think he's going to call me at my next phone call and I think it's because he knows he won't be able to hold on much longer.

It is so wierd to be experiencing all of this from over here, on my own. I feel like sis is starting to get a taste of the big sister stuff I used to of knowing and dealing with everything. I think she's doing a damn good job--an amazing person, really, so whole and complete...exactly everything I feel I'm not.

Well, off to bed and another day. Two to go this week and my first professor meeting on Thursday.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Well, here I sit in another powerless state induced by people wanting to take care of me when I don't need or want them to.

I went to Chez Izarm tonight to chat and eat, but left before dinner because it looked like it was going to pour rain.

So, of course, it hasn't rained yet, but the boys stopped by as I ate my dinner to announce I shouldn't go to bed yet because mama is going to send dinner over.

So, here I am, waiting for a dinner I don't really like, when I really want to take my shower and put my exhausted self to bed before the rains come.

But, how can I complain considering how sweet this gesture is?

Anyhow, today was okay. Definitely better, though remnants of my depressive state still linger. I wrote today, which was nice. I started a story based on a party Mom's bosses had that she told me about. Like me though, I gave it a solid start and know where I want to go with it, but I don't want to finish.

This is becoming quite a trend, and I really wonder why that is. Are all writers tormented? Sometimes I think that's what's wrong with me. I'm just a tormented writer kept despairing by too much pondering and truth seeking.

Hmmm.

I got a letter from M, which was nice. Writing back I actually felt I was communicating with someone for the first time in a long time. I may go see her next weekend, if I still feel like a madwoman.

On va voir.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Yes, another six-year day.

It seems I can always keep the momentum going until about 2 or 3 p.m. and then I'm ready to be finished with the day and myself, but the 3-7 p.m. period just won't let go.

It's only 5 p.m. now.

I feel so alone today I feel my head may explode with it, and yet another good friend walking through my gate now wouldn't ease it.

---Later, 8 p.m. Well, now I do feel like a certifiable nut. A few hours later, now that I’m tucked safe in bed, a very cold bucket shower behind me, I feel fine again. I’m starting to think my moods may be chemical or biological or something the way they keep feeding patterns—same in stage—happy in morning, crappy, depressed in afternoon, and by evening, bored but OK. Maybe it’s the heat? Who knows? www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

I just sprayed some Off! on myself as a treat, instead of using Cutter, and I smell like summer camp.

Smell is amazing. One whiff of the stuff and I was at Camp Galilee.

Right there.

I haven't thought about that place in a long time.

Today was one big mood swing. Maybe it's the mephloquine. I have no idea.

But this morning, I was in a great mood. Did my laundry, swept, market, looked at school stuff.

I even maintained my mood when that snot-nosed English prof came by to discuss an English club, which is very obviously geared towards him understanding English and not the students. Yes, this man shall prove to be quite a challenge, I believe. I just wish I could tell if Mr. S thought he was as annoying and condescending as I did. But it does sound like at least we could have some interesting discussions.

We'll see.

Then, I read and wrote a bit, had lunch and then my mood began to dwindle, around 1 or 2.

Maybe it was boredom.

But, about now, time for bed, my favorite time, it's increased dramatically.

How odd I am.

I just wish I could nail this place, this experience.

You know, maybe that is what's so jarring about the cross-cultural experience. That it removes from us all our mirrors, in terms of relationships to people and places, which governed who and what we are. It takes away our humor and language and busy work, all the things we could once use as walls, and it frees us to just be what we are--our actions and deeds--no mirrors to shape our faces or existence.

How at the same time both very frightening (terrifying, maybe?) and freeing.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

I tell ya, I just can't find a happy medium. Either I'm so busy I ache all over with work or I'm so bored I feel like each day lasts six years.

I don't even know what to look forward to anymore, days off or school days, so I'm back to wondering when I'll go home. And looking forward to the two years being up.

Then I wonder if I'll ever quit thinking that and fearing I won't. I think about how here, I feel like my whole existence is temporary. I get up and I don't feel placed here. I feel like I'm biding my time.

I think of college or home and how I hardly thought of time. I was where I was and I was content. But here, I am so aware of time. I can't get past it to just be here. I can't feel like this is my life.

Is that part of my adjustment or part of being in a different culture or what?

I keep thinking about the effect that being in another culture is having on me, and I'm struck by how polarized it seems.

Like how one minute I'm feeling so part of a universe I never knew existed, feeling the physical world in a way I never would at home.

And the next minute, I'm struck by how everything seems to be working against me. When I hear that te CEG carpenters ripped me off or I have yovo screamed at me and I feel so alone.

And I can't figure out how one universe, one world, could be so polar, and that's when it strikes me that maybe that's the point. Is that when we realize it's not for or against us, but just is, that then we can become a part of all of it.

Maybe, maybe not. Who knows?

I had a sad conversation tonight with a kid who stopped by. He's an English student at the University in Cotonou and he's going on and on about how sad he was to be living in a non-English country and how Americans don't waste their time and how the Beninese are so frustrating because they waste so much time greeting one another.

I found myself trying to argue against the Americans and how we work too hard and we don't know or care about one another like here, and if you want to talk about wasting time, let's say "TV."

But it left me sad, because I had to wonder if it was just a case of grass is greener on both of our parts, or if it wasn't another case of us duping the world with our power and might and things.

He said he wanted the Beninese to give up their greetings, their culture, to be more productive.

Can that possibly be a fair trade?

Yet something makes it appear worth it.

Pretty soon will the world be nothing but robot Americans trying desperately to remember a way of life and connectedness and feeling long gone, sacrificed for greater efficiency and worldwide plumbing?

But then, I have to look myself in the eye and say, Do you want to spend the rest of your life in Africa, or live like an African?

I have to admit, I don't.

Is it not possible to have a culture and comfort? Connectedness and efficiency? Are they truly mutually exclusive?

I'm beginning again to feel disconnected, like I'm keeping myself from knowing myself. It all started as I finished Alice Walker's The Temple. My sense of flow, of being, of happiness is ebbing away.

Why? Why? Why?www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Whew, what a day. I'm good and exhausted again, and I think I had a better teaching day today, but not such a great colleague day.

This new English teacher decided to watch my class, which was fine. I thought, "Great, collaboration."

Until he decides to correct my teaching. In class.

A girl says, "My mother goes to the hospital everyday," and I know that's not true, and she knows it, and so I say, "Oh, so she is sick?"

And he says, "Maybe her mother is a nurse." In the middle of my class.

Then, while my students were copying, he starts telling me what they did and did not get and to make handouts and I realize they can't understand him, but still. I was happy for the feedback, but the way he went about it irritated me. I told him to shut up and we'd talk about it later. Of course, then I couldn't get a word in edgewise, but I'm pretty damn sure he wouldn't have done that in front of another Beninese teacher.

I think that's what pissed me off. Having a pretty good idea that he'd done that only becuase he could, because I'm a woman and he could therfore treat me like a subordinate.

That's what makes this hard--I want to work with my colleagues, and learn from them, and vice versa, but that's very hard to do in an environment where it feels like no one takes you seriously. I can't tell with most people yet if they regard me as knowing anything, (I'll admit I don't know it all--far from it), or if they just see me as the cute little white girl who is playing professor for two years.

Time will tell.

It's funny though, because I had expected the big things about sexism to bother me. The no girls soccer team and polygamy.

But that stuff is cake compared to the small, day-to-day stuf. The stuff you barely see and would hardly notice except for the nagging feeling when people look at you or talk to you that they're seeing less than a whole person and that they're certainly not seeing someone with a brain. Legs maybe, money, but not a brain.

That's hard, and I wonder how many times I've been in similar situations or institutions in the U.S. and not even noticed because it's so ingrained in my culture.

But I end my day well because I had a lovely evening at the Izarm's over pate and legume sauce. I love being over there. I wish I weren't too tired now to go into detail, but let's just say, I love going over there and actually sort of feeling somewhat known. It's nice. I really look forward to knowing them as I spend my time here.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Whew, what a day.

I now have six 5eme classes, as I took the one that was left over. They forgot about it.

How do you forget a class?

Anyhow, that's 24 hours a week. 12 hours of the same lesson over and over.

I really fear that if I don't start enjoying this sometime soon, I'll burn out quite quickly.

I just can't seem to engage the students, and that's when I get frustrated, because then no one is really interested in learning and thinking and that's what I want them to get--the great stuff about learning.

I just get so frustrated that they refuse to think originally, because of the way the system teaches them to just learn by rote memorization. I want them to take pride in their own thoughts and ideas.

I just don't know how.

Everything is so hard because it's in a different language.

God, I hope I have what it takes to make this work. I don't just want to be biding time. I want them to get something from me, like I've gotten from all my great teachers.

I did get a great letter from sis today. She's really doing good and she said her and Mom might really come visit. I'm so excited. And my cousin, too, maybe. That would be so awesome. But I'm trying not to get my hopes up too high because I know it depends on a lot of things...www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Whoa, I am so exhausted. But at least it's not the kind of exhaustion that ensues from a lack of sleep or too much caffeine or running oneself ragged.

No, for the first time since I can ever remember, this is exhaustion from mental and physical work. And it feels good.

I stood at the PTT today and realized that maybe for the first time in my life, I was experiencing happiness. All I know is I felt okay, peaceful and in the moment. I was thinking about my classes and my students and what to make for dinner and I wasn't worried about anything.

No what-is-my-future or sufferings of the past. I just was and I was pleased to be where I was. And I realized that maybe that's what people mean when they say they're "happy."

I'd always wondered.

So anyhow, the first teaching day wasn't so awful. Granted, the surveillant interrupted my first class to have the students sweep the classroom and the Censure came in next to tell of a classroom change and, of course, there were minor frustrations with the students' comprehension and participation and respect, but overall, it wasn't half bad.

Only one class, 5eme B, made me really lose patience (which I now wish I hadn't) by their attitudes, but hopefully they'll come around.

I had to even use our PC trainer's trick with them of writing over on the board what they hadn't erased before class started.

They laughed.

I hope they get it next time.

But I feel overall like there is hope. They were a bit bored today, so I know I have to keep up with better pacing and break things down more, but overall I think this shan't be the disaster I thought it would be.

And I got a wonderful letter from Mom and a package from Dad, so aside from being totally exhasting, today was pretty good.

And it went fast, which is always a plus, especially in a land like Africa, where I've discovered that every hour is two days (U.S. time) long.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Well, that was a whole hell of a lot of rigamarole for nothing.

First day of school and you do everything but have class. Raise the flag, give speeches, introduce the new teachers, get schedules, arrange everyone in class.

That's all.

Go home.

Teaching begins tomorrow. Sheesh.

So now, another day and night of anxiety pass. I'll be soooo glad when it's tomorrow at 5 p.m. and I have my real first day behind me. I also hope it isn't a disaster.

We'll see.

I'm so nervous.

I'm also a bit freaked out because I just discovered that one of the Izarm sons is my student. This is somewhat uncomfortable for me because I love that family and I love hanging out there, but I see a very immediate conflict of interest in my future. I mean, do I help him with his homework while waiting for dinner if he asks, even though all the other students won't be privy to such help? Does he know my real age and marital status, since I shared it with his mom? He seems like a very noble and honest kid, so I'm not that worried, but I do see potential problems here.

But I cannot give up my contact with that house, a) I like them, b) they feed me if I want, c) they're my only social contacts in the town, d) they are the best local langugage teachers I'm gonna find and e) they're the only people who seem to seee a little more to me than walking money and sex.

Oh, quest-ce que on va faire maintenant? C'est grave? Je ne sais pas.

Oh, I really wish they'd put in my damn grillage. Geez. It's too damned hot to have to shut my windows all the time, and, I had a snake on my door today. Lovely.

Please let me maintain patience and a sense of humor tomorow.

Please.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Well, this is it. The night before the first day. The rentree is tomorrow. I'm absolutely terrified, mostly because I have no idea what to expect tomorrow. I don't know where to go, what to do, who anyone is. I don't even know if I'm actually teaching tomorrow, or if we're just deciding when each class will be.

I know nothing.

I find that frightening.

I also don't feel like I know my lesson plan well enough, but working on it just makes me more nervous. I keep picturing myself teaching and I know that if I can just stay calm and be patient, I'll do fine, but I always have such a hard time with that when I get nervous and frustrated. I really want to be good at this. Really badly and I'm terrified I won't know how.

I'm terrified of a lot of things, lately. I keep thinking a lot about home and I keep having this feeling that everyone is slipping away, forgetting me. I think a lot about my college friends and I think it's probably just because I haven't gotten mail in a while. But also, I know it's appropriate, that they probably are.

I am, too.

I just want so badly to hang on to those people and those days. Even though I'm happy here and I like who I'm with, I miss my life! I miss college. And the hard part is, I can't nail down what it was I loved so much, specifically. I feel like if I knew, I'd know who I am and what would always make me happy. But I can't tell if it was the academics, the people, the town, the pace, the work or what. Sometimes I fear it was the age, the being an adult, but still young, independent but still growing, learning, free to make mistakes, protected. It was playland. Yes, I fear it was that that I'm missing, and of course, I say fear because that I can never get back.

Not at grad school, or even back at my college town, not sitting with those friends somewhere.

My life is mine now.

I may not have to grow-up and stop dreaming, but my protected time is over. My decisions have consequences now and I think that the thing about this realization is that it's really knowing, and I think I started getting this when I graduated, at that time, that I'm mortal, that my time is limited, that I'd better spend my time carefully and use my life well.

That's a big responsibility and so daunting when you haven't the slightest idea of what your life's work is just yet. I'm so afraid of selling out, of missing my boat and jumping on the big cruise ship filled with the wealthy, but bored and unfilled.

That's why I like this time-this Peace Corps time. It lets me remove a bit, get some space so maybe I can finally hear myself.

Even here though, I fear other voices might slip in and try to guide me. I know I hear them, actually.

But it is only the beginning. Maybe in time my voice will prevail and I'll know. I can only hope.

For now, I'd settle for knowing my lesson plan is long enough...www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Good lord, I can't believe I have to go to school in two days. I'm so scared. So scared I prefer not to think about it.

Today, I was scared (am a bit) by a rainstorm. Can you imagine? I feel quite silly, and in a way it's what I love about rainstorms--that element of fear. But it's different somehow when you're alone, in Africa, and it's dark, and you find a lizard you at first think is a snake in your room and you can't shower or do anything because of the rain.

And rain here, on these tin roofs, is loud.

This is when it'd be really great to have someone else here, or a little party. You could drink hot tea and chat (though chatting is hard when the rain is this loud), or if it were a boy, one could curl up in bed.

But, with just me, it's a bit--I don't know--unsettling. Rain here seems somehow much more threatening than at home.

And there, it stopped just as quickly as it began.

I guess it's kind of good school is starting. I've been getting bored and restless lately. I just wish I could be going as a student, instead of a first year teacher, so I wouldn't have to be so nervous.

Argh.

I remember how much I used to just love the first day of school.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Today was another one of those loooooong days.

The munisier was about nine hours late bringing my coiffeuse, but finally he did and it's really nice. I'm quite excited. Now I'm gonna let him take a break for a few days and then talk to him about chairs, a lipiko and a little table. And then I should be all done.

I'm quite looking forward to tomorrow, just because it actually seems somewhat busy: laundry, arrange everything with coiffeuse, marche, look at lesson plans again, work out, shower, sweep.

Yup, it'll all be done by noon, but hey, a girl can dream, can't she?

I'm really enjoying my late afternoon cross-stitch routine. I hope I can keep it up after school starts.

Mr. Sodja, the English/French teacher I'll work with, gave me some journals on education and they're really neat content-based instruction and innovative teaching ideas. I haven't talked to him about them yet, but I'm really hoping he'll be someone I can collaborate with and learn from. He seems like a pretty concerned teacher and in general a nice guy.

I'm starting to get excited to work on my teaching and to learn from my colleagues. I just hope they're as energetic as me.

I'm also getting scared to death. Oh well.

Tonight I had my first meal at the Izarm's as a family member. Shared a bowl of ignam pile with mama and everything. Ate with my hands, the whole deal.

And then I was informed that, "Chez nous, one does not chew."

That was a slightly difficult habit to break, but, as mama said, "It's already ground up and mushed, so why chew? It's faster if you don't."

Which makes sense in a culture where one grabs what food is left as a child. It also helped explain why I was always finishing eating last in Ouidah. I never noticed it, but I bet they weren't chewing. I'll find out when I visit.

Then, by the time I got back at 9:30, the landlord had closed the gate and locked it, so I had to wake up a neighbor to get in.

Feeling like a ninny is a lovely way to end the day, really.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

The last day of month four.

I think.

I don't have a calendar and I've never known how many days are in each month.

Today was fine, just long. And I damn near ended up in a panic over my lesson plans. Thank God I started early. I just can't decide what to do and it's so hard having no real idea of what I'm walking into. And knowing how much rests on that first day. Sheesh. I have to try not to think about it or I just become a mess.

When I'm not panicking about that stuff, I'm mostly bored.

I hope when boy #2 stops back by he can explain to me how to start a garden so I can at least feel like I'm doing something.

All my writing inclinations are gone. I just read and cross-stitch.

At night I've taken to visiting the Izam's, and I really like that. I love that family. Things always seem so kind and laid back. Rarely are kids yelled at or hit. It's quite lovely. Lots of laughter. I love sitting with them while they make dinner and I think if I ever want to, I can mange with them, which is nice to know should I ever actually get busy.

I thought of boy #1 a lot today, missing him, I guess, but then I always wonder if I'm missing him or just someone and anyone would do. I'm still not sure. Damn, I wish love would just hit me over the head so I could be done with the whole mess.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

I just had the crap scared out of me by lightening and thunder. Haven't had that happen in a while. I'm sitting in the midst of a huge storm right now, which is lovely. The only downfall is that when they start too early, as this one did, they sort of prohibit showering or going to the potty.

But otherwise, I'm content.

Sheesh, I feel like I haven't been alone in ages. M showed up yesterday, which was quite nice. We made horrible tasting cookies that melted instead of baking and pretty much chatted all day...We had some good, real talks about men, marriage and life and what we want.

... I got lots of mail today and photos from Mom of me at home. They looked really good, but it was wierd looking at myself in them because it was like I was seeing this other person who looked an awful lot like an adult. It's like I can almost feel the transformation happening. I feel like all my past experiences are slowly congealing themselves, waiting a bit maybe, but sure to emerge into the grown-up, the who, I will be. It's not an altogether uncomfortable feeling--just odd. New. www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Well, today was a day.

Boy #2 was here for two seconds to drop off my helmet and I think I definitely felt something.

Uh oh.

But that wasn't that big a deal. Then my sister, E, came by and took me to a party. After, I made kick ass onion rings for a PMS attack and then we discussed my joining the choir and it looks like I'm in. Rehearsal Saturday nights and church on Sunday. I think it might be fun, and if nothing else, it'll help me learn Yoruba. Then, while E and all the little kids were here, it started raining, so we had a little dance party. It was all quite amusing. A lovely way to pass a Sunday.

Today was the first dayI actually saw that I might be able to be happy here and to sort of have a life. I know I'll never "fit in." That's hopeless. But I saw potential for improving and having real communication and bonds with people. I felt like a person with people, instead of like a yovo. It was nice.

If I could just get all these men to stop pursuing me, life would be perfect.

That, and keep my weight down. I've never in my life been self-conscious about my weight or what I eat. It's never been a problem and now, it totally consumes me. Who would have thought Africa would do that?

M may visit this week to do lesson plans and that'd be nice. To chat and to be able to discuss these first few scary days with someone.

And boy #2 said he may stop and spend a few days here recuperating on his way back from Cotonou, which would be fine. And it'll maybe give me a chance to actually know him, which would be good.

So, when does all this isolation Peace Corps talks about come in?www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Well, ask and ye shall receive. I came back from mama's yesterday to find the boy on my porch.

He'd felt like we didn't really get to talk, so he came back and stayed until today. Which was nice. We talked, made garlic bread and spaghetti and visited mama.

He is absolutely the sweetest person. He does everything, everything I've always wanted a boyfriend to do: he comes to see me, he leaves me little gifts (incense this time), he listens.

He's great.

So why the hell do I do nothing but compare him to my ex? And all I think is, he's so much better at being a boyfriend and he's much more compatible with me.

But the attraction is so much less.

What the hell?

Oh well, at least since this is moving so slowly, I can take the time to figure it and myself out.

Part of me feels great because I feel like I've finally gotten to a place where I'm comfortable enough with myself that I don't need a man or a relationship, so I'm not needy like I was.

But part of me misses that attraction.

So, is it just that this boy isn't the right guy, that I'm asexual (I am totally apathetic to the whole thing for the most part) or that healthy relationships really tend to be without that attraction, that it is part of my neediness?

And then there's the other boy. He stopped by yesterday, an hour after boy #1 got here, because he's in Parakou waiting to go to the med office to take care of his shisto.

Anyhow, a) I had had psychic premonitions of them both showing up at once and b) it was quite a lovely afternoon with the both of them.

Also, quite wrenching because I really like them both. Really.

I don't think I could cheat on boy #1. I refuse to hurt someone that good, but part of me really wants to know how boy #2 and I would be. I feel much more natural around him, that's for sure.

I'm hoping he comes back by here tomorrow on his way to Cotonou so we can talk. We shall see.

Good lord, whoever would think I would have this problem?

Otherwise, things are great. I'm nervous as hell for school to start, and I feel like every male in this damn town is after me. (Some guy, Augusten, bought me green beans and radishes tonight). But otherwise, I'm really starting to settle in and be comfortable.

I think I may even be joining the church choir. It finally occured to me that if I like African music so much, why the hell not join in? When else can I do that?

Plus, I think it'll help me integrate into the community and work on my local language.

We shall see. I'm sure it will require making a huge ass out of myself numerous times at first, but well, isn't that what Peace Corps is all about?www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com

Damn people. Damn 'em because I like 'em.

The boy and N showed up about eight last night and the thing is, I wasn't even all that excited about them coming, so content was I in my solitude. Then they were here and it was fun and I liked sleeping next to the boy and now they're gone, and I feel lonely again, and all anxiety filled and such.

It's like I need to never see people and I'll be fine, or see them all the time. I'll get all used to it again, too, and then see the other boy next weekend. Sheesh. I think it's different though if it's not on your own turf. This house had never entertained anyone but me before, and now, there are other people associated with it.

Attachment, blech.

I just hope my peace and serenity comes back.

I think I'm also more stressed out about school than I'm letting myself realize, and that's making me anxious, too.

And one can never underestimate the powers of PMS, especially not in Africa. Ah, my first period in my new latrine. How romantic.

I cannot wait until I have my electricity. These laterns are too damn high maintenance for me and what I really hate is that I'm to stupid to figure them out, so I always have to ask mama for help, and I've no doubt they've concluded I'm a total idiot.

I think the fishbowl thing is wearing on me. I'm afraid if I keep going to my own post office that everyone will rob me of my riches, and I swear the PTT people are keeping track of everything I spend on postage, and it's a lot. I feel that way at the marche and boutiques, too...like everyone is watching and critisizing. I think I may start going to Parakou on some of my Fridays off to mail stuff and shop.

How silly.

And today I met some stupid EP teacher who said he wants to come talk to me. I told him to come at 2 p.m. He thought I could get him a visa. I hope he doesn't show up. I'm so fucking sick of everyone seeing me as walking sex and money.

Does this ever end?

And I know the men go past politeness boundaries with me because I'm female and it drives me nuts.

I had expected all of the cultural differences and adjustments to be drastic and obvious, but I think that what makes it hard is that they're so subtle. You could almost miss them. But I think that's how they wear you down and you don't even know it's happening.

Well, maybe some of my being in a bad mood is because I'm tired. I didn't sleep hardly at all because the boy and I stayed up talking and stuff and then, well, I never sleep perfectly soundly with a boy in my bed. But I did sleep better with him than with anyone else. (Oh, just my ex--long list).

Anyhow, I still can't figure out how I feel about him. I feel very asexual right now. It's like I just want to be held. I have no energy to give much more than that, nor do I get much from it. Tres odd. Nice thing is though, I feel like I could actually talk to him about that and he'd understand. He really is a sweet guy. So very real. Sometimes I think that the problem is that we're too alike.

Oh well, can't figure it all out tonight. Too tired.www.unlearningamerica.blogspot.com