Getting home wasn't easy, but finally I am here. Tuesday night I took a flight out of Cochabamba to Santa Cruz. Peace Corps doesn't fly people out with in country connections to international flights without a day buffer. I guess they have had problems in the past. Bolivian carriers are prone to strikes, cancelling flights without notice, etc.. Two third year volunteers picked me up in Santa Cruz, and I spent the night with one of them. Wednesday morning I was dropped off at the airport nice and early for my flight to Miami. I got my last cup of maracuya juice at the Subway, and said goodbye to Bolivia. I didn't have any problems until getting into Miami. After sitting in the plane for seven hours, I was developing some slight anxiety. Miami itself brought on a rush of emotions. I was very sad to leave Bolivia; Peace Corps had been a dream of mine for some time, and I made a lot of really good friends there. I was also very excited to be back in the states, so much so that a "welcome home" from immigration made me start crying. The past few days have been very surreal. After leaving the states, I cut ties with many things here. The goal of Peace Corps is more or less integration into host country society. Mentally, you leave behind what you know and are used to, and integrate into the new society. There is an initial hump that all PC volunteers struggle with. You either make it over the hump, or you come home like I did. Fortunately, most people make it over the hump. Either way though, in the beginning, we all beleive that we will be there for two years, so realizing that it is not going to happen really shakes you up. Not only did I have all this to think about, I also starting having trouble with what was going to happen here in the states. I didn't have a job, car, or any idea where I wanted to live. Anyway, I am sitting in the Miami airport, still reeling with all these emotions. I look around; I see things I havn't seen in months: people of all different skin colors, people drinking three or four dollar coffee out of paper cups, women with make up, florescent lights..more and more things started to swirl. Peace Corps says that the hardest part of the whole experience is coming back home. When you go away, you have an expectation that things will be different. When you come home, you think you will pick up where you left off, but you don't, things change, you become accustomed to different things. Fortunately, in my case, I havn't been gone all that long, so I am already starting to feel at home again. But still, in Miami, I was having problems. To my surprise, our flight was delayed about an hour. That means I would have about twenty minutes to catch my connection out of Orlando to Birmingham. The other fun part, because I was switching carriers in Orlando, I would have to run to the Delta desk, get my ticket, and re-enter security.."probably not going to happen," I'm thinking in my head. I get some tea at Starbucks, speaking Spanish to feel more comfortable. After taking off from Miami, I slept for about the whole flight to Orlando, I woke up in what I thought was heavy turbulance, it was us hitting the runway..I check my watch. The time is 8:05pm, the time my flight is supposed to be taking off for Birmingham. I've already missed it. Still, I run around the airport looking for the Delta desk. I find it and get a ticket for the next day. They don't know where my bags are. Again, panic stirs. I'm in Orlando, by myself, I'm going to have to stay the night, my bags carrying pretty much everything I own at this point (including insurance for Peace Corps to pay for counseling sessions) are inbetween carriers. I'm starting to wonder why all this is happening to me. I generally feel like things happen for a reason, but at this point was not too impressed. Fortunately, a very kind lady at the Delta baggage desk sensed my panic. She did everything she could to help calm me down; she called American Airlines, and tracked down my bags; she assured me that if I didn't want to wait around, I could pick them up in the morning. I decided eating something was my best bet. I got a bite to eat, and went to the Hyatt in the airport. The guy at the desk assured me that I could find a hotel for half the price of the Hyatt; within ten mintues, I would. I went back down to the baggage desk, and sure enough, my bags were not lost; they were both sitting behind the desk. The two ladies behind the desk offered me a few more words of encouragement as I went to get a ride to the hotel. The hotel that I talked to was within my price range, and has a half-hourly shuttle. I went outside, didn't see the shuttle, but instead asked some people on another shuttle how much they were paying for a room. Twenty dollars cheaper than my quote, and a shuttle about to leave; twenty minutes later, I was in a room blasting AC, washing my face, and watching sportscenter. The next day, Thursday, everything went according to plan. I made it into Birmingham, my dad picked me up, and we drove around town for a few hours while talking. Only that night did I start feeling a little more normal. Weird things are comforting. Eating cereal brings me comfort. I can eat when, were, and what I want. Wal-mart brings me comfort. If I have any problems in the middle of the night, I can take care of the problem myself, rather than waking up my family, calling a taxi and taking an hour ride, and explaining myself in Spanish to people who really don't understand my problem. I spoke to a counselor before I left, not only was she American, a native English speaker, but she has also travelled abroad for years, and grew up in Alabama. This lady had me pegged. She said I had classic symptoms of adjustment disorder, or culture shock (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adjustment_disorder). It comes with sudden changes, and goes away within a fairly short period of time. I have the advantage of separating myself from my stressors. Peace Corps is an increddible experience, I am not trying to defer anyone who is thinking about joining. I just wasn't ready for it. Almost all of the other volunteers in my group have spent time abroad. They've done things like: live in Argentina for six months, backpacked across Asia, lived in Mexico for six months, worked in India, taught in Spain for months, etc.. These kids have been around, and are still having their own problems dealing with their experience. Like I said, there is a hump, most of them will get over it, a few will come back and live some version of their old life. As laid back and adventurous as I am, I was not ready for this experience. Every day I had about an hour of free time to myself, but I could only spend it inside the house. We lived away from the city in a quiet neighborhood, but it was cold outside, there are dog problems, and the possibility of pick-pockets. We were working ten hour days, including many weekends. On top of all of that, I have been sick almost the entire two months. One day, I learned that my camera had been stolen, I was dealing with panic, I was pooping (with blood and mucus) every twenty minutes; I was diagnosed with a bacterial infection and giardia all at the same time. Two days later, I was signing papers to come home. I forget the stat of people who say they have a bad time during Peace Corps; its something like 15%..not all that much, but if you're in it, you're in it. I'm sad that I will not get the increddible life changing experience that my friends in Bolivia will, but I have already gotten that to some degree. These past two months have changed me in many ways. I have learned a great deal, and gained a much greater appreciation for education. There are many opportunities to help here. I don't have to be oversees to make a difference in this world. I am said that I cannot bring cool and exciting stories from Bolivia anymore. I am said that I will not have any more moving pictures. I felt like this was a great way to motivate people, to remind them of how other people live, to move them to make a difference. But still, I am glad to have had the chance to be in that position, and have so many people following and supporting me. I will continue to follow my heart, and encourage all of you to do so as well. I want to thank you all for being there for me when I needed you, and for being with me in the now and in the future as I will continue to need you. I am reminded of an activity I did once as a kid, it seems more applicable, now more than ever. It involved remembering various people throughout history. People who had been in space, won Olympic medals, invented things. Then it asked to remember people who had done more personal things..made you smile, paid you a compliment, helped you through something. The idea is that heroes important in our lives are not the people we see on television. They are not the people in record books. They are the people we interact with everyday. They are the people who lift us up when we are down, send us a letter to brighten our spirits, or stay up talking on the phone to their crying son who can't sleep at night. Each time I move to a new place, I realize the impact I had on the people I left. I am surprised by comments like "I look up to you," "I admire you," or "I wish I could be more like you." It always surprises me, because I never try to do it. I follow my heart, and people notice. The same is true with all of us, each of us are heroes in the lives of the people around us and don't even know it. I am not special, I am just like everyone else, but still, we all have the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of others..just by doing what feels right. So I encourage you to do what feels right. And I want you to know that you have all been heroes in my life by being there for me.

This week I had to make a very hard decision. As many of you know, I have been dealing with panic attacks for over three weeks now. I have had a few good days in those three weeks, but too many bad ones to count. This week was supposed to be site visit, a week hanging out in and checking out our sites. Friday, during the day, another panic attack hit, a very strong one. I went to the medical office to talk to them about it; they said that if the attacks kept up, I would be able to receive daily drugs to cope with the panic. I am a firm believer in getting to the source of the problem, and felt that drugs were not an option. I came to Bolivia with good intentions. I have a heart full of love, and wanted to spread that love in order to make a difference. In the brief time that I have been here, I have affected many lives just by living by what feels right. Even though I could have affected so many more lives over the next two years, I feel that my mental health is too important to me to risk staying. Instead of taking drugs and continuing under the same stress, I decided my best option was comnig home. I am not ready to start a two year commmitment feeling as low as I do now. It's not fair to the communities or me, and I feel like now is a good time to walk away. I am not sure that people understand the desperation and how real debilitating panic and anxiety can feel..I hope they never have to. All of my friends here have been super supportive, are incredible people, and I will miss them very much. A lot of tears have already been shed just in saying goodbye..and still more will be shed. I look forward to being a support network for them and helping them through their tough times. I want to thank all of you for being so supportive of me of me over the past two months, especially within the past three weeks. My life has been flipped upside down, and I am ready to land back on my feet. I will post at least one more, detailed, update when I feel a little better. I am still pretty fragile right now. This coming Wednesday I will be back in Alabama. Although I am going to need a lot of time adjusting and getting everything back in order in my life, I look forward to seeing everyone, and showing each of you how much you mean to me..how much I care about you. I ask that everyone please be supportive of my decision; it was a hard one to make. Again, I will give a more detailed update in a few days when I get past some of the emotions of leaving/still being here.

We all had a big Fourth of July celebration (on the third) with hamburgers, fireworks, and volleyball. The pinnacle of the night was finding out all of our sites for the next two years. We are all scattered all over..Two of us are going to be living at 12,000+ ft. Others are in the jungle fifteen to twenty hours from the closest major city. My site, however, is somewhat rediculous. Let´s just say I lucked out. I am in Tolomosita Centro, a small community about thirty minutes outside the city of Tarija in southern Bolivia. Tarija is a city of 140,000 people, known for its safety, layed-back atmosphere, and wine. The accent is slow and poetic; the people identify more with Argentina than with Bolivia. The area has good meat and fresh produce like strawberries and peanuts; again, there are around five wineries in the Tarija area. The elevation is around 6,000 ft with a valley climate. The valley climate doesn´t involve seasons; they call it eterna primavera, eternal spring; 70-80 degrees F and sunny all year. I will be living in a newly contstructed room across the field from my host mom. I am pretty sure it´s just me and my host mom; I´m not sure where the rest of her family is. Tolomosita Centro is one of several of the communities that I will be working with..All of the communities are on the banks of Lago San Jacinto, a very large lake. My house is not exactly on the lake, but it´s within 100 meters. The lake also has a bike trail around one-third of the perimeter. Because there are transportation issues, I asked my boss if I could buy a boat to get to the different communities..he didn´t say yes, but he didn´t say no. All he said was, ¨You should wear a life-vest.¨ He also told me to expect a lot of failure. These are not communities that are excited about improving water and sanitation issues and need technical knowledge. My communications background landed me a position with several organizations who are not functioning well, or even together, but need motiviation to pull together. My job will be to gather the different organizations and get them fired up about dry latrines to avoid the situation now of sewage going straight into the lake. Even though I am something like 30 hours by bus from the central office here in Cochabamba, I have a regional office there in Tarija, as well as a market and everything else I need. It´s hard to get anywhere else, but then again, I don´t need to. I am happy to have received a site with people as warm and laid back as I am. My site description foreshadowed lazy afternoons eating Bar-B-Q by the lake. We are all going on site visits this Sunday. Site visits are five days of hanging out and getting to know the area in each of our individual sites..because we are so far out, all the Tarija kids are making the trip by plane. I will get a permanant mailbox this week, so any mail should wait ´til then..thanks to all of those sending me letters; it means more to me than you know. Take care, and know that I am thinking about you!

-Mike

I have been going through some pretty tough stuff these past 15 days..We have decided that my Malaria meds have been rocking my body..Some of the education volunteers have been having problems too, but the rest of my group is still pretty solid.. Tonight the sanitation kids are in Santa Cruz. We have not been able to see much of the city, but what we have seen is impressive. Tonight is the last night of a ten day technical trip. The past ten days have been rough, but satisfying. We built an almost 13,000 liter rainwater catchment tank for a school, along with a grey water system to recycle their used water for a garden. We built a dry latrine for another group. In Montero, we just finished building thirty or so meter wells (we worked 18 hours straight drilling). We calculated that we got paid around 10 cents USD per hour of well drilling..I think the government is definitely getting their worth out of us. We also did some teaching to some kids at the school, and the community of Santivanez.

Needless to say, I am off the meds, which all but seeled my fate on one particular site in southern Bolivia. I had a very big decision today; my boss knew how I was feeling..I have been feeling so bad these past days that I had decided to go home. My boss pulled me aside today and told me he needed a final decision today whether I was staying or going. Again, I had decided to come home..my health and happiness is most important..A quick call to Dad reminded me that I have not been myself, and even after 15 days, the medicine is still rocking my body. He and I both know that I wasn´t making the decisions because my heart was behind them, but because of how bad my mental state has been recently. All things considered, I pulled my boss aside and told him that I wanted to stay. I feel like I have a lot to offer the people here, and want my chance to do it. I still ask my friends and family to keep me in their prayers. Although I am feeling better, I still have a little hump to get over before I am 100% again.

Even though I am almost positive of the site I am getting, I am holding off until after Monday..we are having a little July 4th celebration (a little early) and receiving our sites the same day. Sorry for any grammatical errors, my English is going downhill. I will put up some pictures when I get the chance..thanks to all..take care!

I haven´t updated in a while because not a lot of new stuff has been happening. More classes..more Spanish, but nothing out of the ordinary. Last Tuesday was pretty cool; me and two other guys gave a presentation to a small group of neighborhood kids on the decomposition times of different types of garbage. Plastic is a big problem here; everything comes in plastic bags..things from the market, milk, snacks..and there are almost no garbage cans anywhere. Some people take their trash out to the truck, but you have to be around when they come by. Others burn their garbage, plastic included, which is only slightly better than the norm..leaving it on the ground. We explained to the kids that certain types of garbage, like food, can be buried underground. The major point we were pushing is that plastic won´t ever break down. We were all pretty happy with the presentation. I think the kids actually learned something..at least they were able to tell us all our main points when we were done.

In general, my spirits have been pretty high. These past couple days, however, my reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I am missing home more than I thought I ever would. I still really want to be here; I am still excited about having the opportunity to change people´s lives for the better, but I really need you guys right now. Small notes and phone calls mean the world to me; more than you might think. Also, it would mean a lot for those who pray, to please pray for me, and for those who don´t, to please think of me from time to time. I am working through a very rough spot right now, and I am not alone; I have a lot of great help, but still, this isn´t easy. Thanks to everyone for checking in on me!

All of us trainees had a shorter day yesterday; since they let us out of class a few hours early, we figured we would take the time and do something we rarely have time for, exercise. After playing an hour or two of frisbee, most of the trainees went home. Just about the time we were finishing playing frisbee, a group of Bolivians from the neighborhood were starting up some informal soccer. We had been asking each other whether or not they would use the entire soccer field; at some point this week, someone placed seven or eight large piles of dirt all over the field. I decided there was only one way to find out. I asked if I could play; they were very nice, and said yes. We played for an hour or so as the sun was setting. Early on, the sky started to get dark; after all, it was getting late. All of a sudden, as the sun was setting behind the mountains, an orange glow lit up the sky. Out of a month of being here, I have seen any sign of any clouds maybe three days total. This night, Thursday, the sky was filled with clouds. They were all a very bright orange. For about fifteen minutes, we could see perfectly. Even though we continued playing until it became too dark to see, I couldn´t help but be awe struck by playing soccer with twenty people I hadn´t met calling me Choco (the didn´t know my name, so the just started calling me Choco, which is a friendly way of calling me the white guy), in another language, in a field with cows eating grass around the end lines and piles of dirt all over, under a sky full of orange luminescence by a sun setting behind 16,000 foot mountains just a few miles from the field we were on.

A side note, one of the nurses from the PC Bolivia central office set me up with an organized soccer team. We are going to play this weekend. I bought cleats today. They said today in a session on stress that exercise was the best way to relieve stress..I guess I am going to have to take them up on that offer..As for the trip to the mountains this weekend, we spent most of our time in the market in Quillaquollo..we didn´t make it past 9,000 feet. We did however talk to some people that have climbed Tunari (16,500 ft), got the info, and are going to give it an honest two day shot the weekend after next. Last but not least, I was still feeling sick these past few days (16 days with stomach problems), but felt pretty darn good today..hopefully the good health will continue.

This week was crazy, but it was also pretty cool. As far as being sick, the good news is, I don´t have amoebas or giardia, the bad news is, I had bacteria (and still might), and I got it more than once in a nine day span. I took the meds and feel a ton better. Thursday, all the volunteers divided into pairs and ate dinner with different employees from PC Bolivia. I had two of the medical staff, both Bolivian; the house was incredible, as was the company, and the food. The staff does stuff like this so we see how different people live here, and as sort of a break from training. We ate lasagna, garlic bread, and tiramisu. We drank wine, and also (mahr-coo-yah) juice, the best juice I have ever tasted. Friday, the basic sanitation kids went to Santivañez (San-tee-van-yez) for tech weekend.

We built a two chambered tank out of adobe that a Canadian NGO will use to compost excess food. After one side is full, they will close it for something like six months while ther are filling the other side. After six months, they will be able to shovel out the compost and use it for fertilizer. We also learned a bunch of activities that san kids do here with communities, that we actually did with about 60 campesinos in a village who are just finishing building their own water system.

I skipped out on lunch, and played soccer with some of the campesinos. There are tons of small scale soccer fields (futbito) all over. I was playing in semi dress shoes and pin-stripe pants; the rest of my team, all Bolivians, and all from the meeting as well, went home and changed first. Today, Sunday, me and a few other guys are going to check out a park at the foot of the mountain range by our neighborhood. We want to climb to the highest summit, Tunari (around 16,500), so we are going to scope out the logistics today. It´s also an excuse to go into the market in town and look for some goodies, including a lunch that does not have potatos. Almost every single meal here has potatos, and I have not gone a day, with the exception of one or two since I have been here, without eating some form of potato.

Mike lives in Santivañez and has two months left in his service. One person from my group will be replacing him.

One of these people is a snowboarder from California, the others are Bolivian cholitas, but I forget who is who.

It was a very long week.

These girls were playing in a sink with empty plastic bags; they thought getting their picture taken was the coolest thing ever.

Journal entry: Tuesday, May 30th, 2006

"Okay..I've been putting off going to the doctor. Not because I'm scared, or even bold. Just because it's kind of a big deal here, and I wanted to make sure I was sick. No longer. I am sitting in Cochabamba at a panaderia (bread shop) about a block from the Peace Corps central office. The passed two days or so have been alternating between tight, strong stomach cramps, and a really loose stomach. Pooping doesn't get rid of the feeling. Not fun. This is actually turning out to be pretty cool, because my appointment is at 2:30, and it's just now past 11:00. So again, here I am eating rolls and doughnuts, drinking cold sprite, sitting outside under an umbrella, about to have unlimited, free hi-speed internet, and about to get rid of stomach pains that have lasted over a week. Not too bad really. I will miss a days worth of language and cultural classes, but that's a sacrafice I am willing to make.

Friday was pretty cool because my Spanish class and one other went on a tour of an Alpaca thread factory. Alpacas are sort of a cross between a sheep and a llama, but their wool is super soft. The tour was pretty cool, somewhat uneventful. We were all pretty hyped about visiting the store at the factory because everything in-country has been pretty cheap. Before taking us into the store, they took the group into a room to check out some of their styles of sweaters and stuff. We were all pretty impressed at the designs..good looking stuff. Then, they took us into the actual store. All of the stuff in the store was terrible. We found out later that the sweaters in the room were models that they had used in a parade the night before. The stuff in the store, well I really don´t know why it was so hideous. Still, we had a pretty good time trying on the different styles and modeling them for the rest of the group.

Josh..rocking out the Cosby sweater.

Every now and then something really out of the ordinary happens. Just when I start to get used to things, or forget that I am here..something happens. Like this passed week when we were having class outside and a herd of cows walked by down the middle of the street. Or another time when were having class and a random parade with two bands walked by (I don´t exactly live in the city). No one was watching the parade..they were just doing it to do it. Anyway....Last night I was walking one of the other volunteers home when out of nowhere, about twenty feet in front of us, a kid bolts out from behind a fence and takes off in the opposite direction. About two seconds later, a full size cow follows faster than I have ever seen a cow run..string tied around its neck, connected to a spike. We look at each other..another two seconds passes and a really old man takes off after the kid and the cow. The two of us shared a moment of complete wonderment. Both of us had a good laugh while expressing the amazing fact that yes we are in Bolivia, and that it is a completely different world.

Friday was increddible. My host sister invited me to a function at her high school. It was a presentation of dances and costumes from all around Bolivia. Like I said, it was absolutely amazing..a bunch of 8 year olds dancing for their families the night before Mother´s Day (May 28th). Bolivia is so rich with tradition that some of the outfits worn by the kids were actually being worn by members of the audience. Kids in Cholita outfits dancing for real Cholitas. I used to wonder if my experience in PC would be worth it..Its easy for me to say that any single day I spend here, if I could only have that one day, would still be worth the whole time..as I have said before, and will say again and again, this place is amazing.

Okay...I know I said I was going to get tested Wednesday. I didn´t. I had two bad days followed by two really good days..I decided crapping into a cup and going for follow-ups was a waste of my time, and the PC´s money. I´m keeping an eye on things and hoping for the best. I can always go to the doctor later. Two more vaccines Wednesday brought the count to seven total (I think). Only nine more to go.

Yesterday, my family had me cook macaroni and cheese for them with cheese from the market. We had been advised not to eat the cheese, but they went out of their way to have one of my favorite dishes for dinner, so I ate it anyway. That night, I started to not feel so good. No diarrhea, but still, not good. Today, I don´t feel terrible, but again, not good. No worries, we are going to the PC training center Wednesday, I will get tested then. I feel like my friend Josh said he felt all last week. Not terrible, but just sort of lousy. Josh also ate the cheese. He also went to the doctor...the diagnosis.........amoebas. So what, I think I have amoebas..as the Peace Corps says, ¨Toughest Job You´ll Ever Love¨..Right?

When you think about what life is like in the Peace Corps, at least what I thought, is usually something like dirt floors, latrines, bucket showers, etc. Well, yesterday, I cheated. My host father decided I needed a little relaxation, he took me and my brother to a place called El Paraiso, The Paradise. It´s a little complex at the end of a dirt road, and is totally awesome. It is sort of a public shower where everyone keeps their bathing suits on. First, we each took a shower (remember, showers are not common in Bolivia); then, we sat in a steam room for something like an hour; the Cochabamba valley has very dry air, so the steamroom felt awesome. There is a cold shower inside the steamroom that feels great after 15 minutes or so of warm humid air. They put bunches of mint leaves over every steam vent, so the room is staunch with minty air. After an hour, we took a break from the steam room; I was floating. It felt awesome. Next, we sat in the sauna for a spell before showering again and changing clothes. The coolest part about the place, because everyone keeps their clothes on, it´s unisex. A lot of the volunteers, especially the girls, have been complaining because they are taking cold and/or bucket showers. I am glad to have found a place to relax on the weekends. After not taking a shower for a week cuz it´s just too cold, I took like 5 in one day. When I asked my host father that morning ¿Puede poner un precio on relejando? (Can you put a price on relaxing), he answered quickly and very seriously, Si, quince Bolivianos. (Yes, 15 Bolivianos ($1.88 USD)).

Much to my downfall, I tried a drink called Chicolac yesterday. It´s not alcoholic or anything, but it tastes really damn good. It is basically chocolate milk, but even sweeter..it comes in a bags that you can buy at almost one out of every four houses..it´s always cold..and it costs about 6 cents USD.

Like I keep saying, my house is awesome. It´s still under construction in some areas, like the balcony and the upstairs bathroom, but for the most part, I am living the sweet life. At times I forget that I am in Bolivia, like when I sit in an internet cafe for a while, or in my room. Then something happens like cows waking me up in the morning. This place is unreal. The more Spanish I learn, the more I love being here. This morning (Saturday), me and my host brother went to the neighborhood soccer field to kick the ball around. There were games going on, so we watched some too. It felt good to run a little bit; my days have been busy. Spanish class starts at 8:30 in the morning, and lasts 4 hours. Then, after lunch, we go to technical training until 6:00pm. After dinner, I have an hour or two before I go to bed. The stark contrast of being at around 8 or 9,000 feet hit me pretty hard while running. Still, it was good to start acclimatizing. Here are some pictures from around the neighborhood.

My House

The View From My Room

My Desk

The following story is written word for word in my journal; I hope you all have a good laugh at my misfortune..I sure did..not when it happened, but a few days later. Keep in mind that my house is pretty much a palace on a smaller scale.

Sunday, May 14th, 2006 ¨Wouldn´t it be my luck that on my first day with my host family, I plug up the toilet. I looked around; no plunger. I try to shove the crap through the first part of the pipe with a cleaning tool. Now there is crap all over the cleaning tool. Nice. Maybe a flush will do the trick. Hell no. The toilet started to overflow. Thwe only good part of the whole experience is that the house doesn´t have a separate shower. The shower is the whole bathroom itself; all the water drains into a screened hole in the middle of the floor. This is good because the toilet water, instead of having to be sopped up with a towel, went down the drain. Still, that doesn´t make the cleaning tool any cleaner, or the floor that matter. As embarassed as I was, I went to tell my host mother. Just as I was walking out of the bathroom, my host sister, age 15, was walking in. After asknig her to wait, I went to find my host mother. I told her I had a problem in the bathroom. Her and my host brother, age 13, came to check things out. My host sister went into the bathroom to wash her hands even though I had hoped she would wait. How embarassing. After seeing the problem, I could tell that my host mother was not happy. She decided that we needed to tell my host father. She tried to tell me over and over (keep in mind this is all in Spanish) that he had left, we needed to wait until he got back. I didn´t understand. She cleaned the floor as best she could while me and my host brother watched. The father, upon returning, decided that the best course of action was to call a plumber. I felt even worse. `Three months,´ I was thinking,`This could be a long time.´ After finding a plunger later in the day by chance in the market, we decided a plumber was not needed. I gave the plunger the first go. `It´s my crap, I´ll do it.´ First pump of the plunger, the rubber part falls off. Not only did it fall off, when I tried to put the stick back into the rubber, it flipped over. The rubber part is now upside-down, under six inches of opaque brown water, and stuck. Nice. My host brother walks into the bathroom just in time to see me standing over the porcelin god with no more offering than an eighteen inch stick. My host father came to save the day, and did just that in a matter of two or three minutes. With the magic touch, he flipped the plunger, replaced the stick, and freed the blockage. I can´t help but laugh at how the basic sanitation expert, me, made a catastrophe out of the only bathroom in a palacial house on my first day. The floor still stinks, but hopefully they will forget about what an ass I made of myself in front of everyone. Maybe in time.¨

Like I said, not funny when it happened, but we had a good laugh when I read my story in front of the whole training group as part of a cross-cultural experiences session.

This past Saturday, we moved in with our host families; these are the families that we will be living with until the end of June. I lucked out, as did most of the sanitation kids, and got a phenominal house with a fridge, hot water, and a bathroom. I have a feeling they are treating us well these three months because sanitiation is one of the dirtier and more remote jobs in Peace Corps; we found out this week that we are the only job extension that is not required to have a bathroom at our two year site; we can build our own. I am living with a family of four in a small community about 30 minutes from Cochabamba. I will put up some pictures when I get the chance; their house is by far the nicest place I have ever lived.

I got two more vaccines this week bringing the total count to five so far....only eleven more to go.

I am sitting in an internet cafe drinking jugo de valle, juice made here in Cochabamba. I don´t know what flavor Tumbo is, but it is pretty damn good. We went for a long walk tonight and I was able to get a vibe on some of the prices of stuff.

Two dark beers and a pizza at a nice restaraunt: around $4.50 USD

Three bottles of juice and a pack of bubble gum: around $1.25

The cheapest bottle of champagne at the grocery store: $1.50

The cheapest price for beer I have found (three bottles): $1.25

Ramen noodles: same as US.

Tomorrow we meet our host families, the houses we will be staying in for the next three months. I think there is a big celebration in one of the villages this weekend; hard to say. I am looking forward to playing soccer with the local kids; they have public concrete fields here the size of basketball courts, pretty cool stuff.

Today I had three of my vaccines; they space them out so you don´t have to get them all at once; they were poking me from both sides at the same time..the good news, with three down I only have..................thirteen left to go.........until next year...

Right now I am hanging out in the lounge of the training center in Cochabamba. We had a few meetings this morning and are conducting interviews for the rest of the day. We learned how to eat saltenas, basically a baked empenada, and a major staple of the Bolvian diet; you have to eat away at the sides until you get to the juice; then you can sip the juice and finish the rest of the meat, potato, etc. The rooms in the training center are working off of natural heating and lighting; the temperature is an awesome 60 degrees or so.

Outside the window, four sheep are tied to stakes; when the grass in their area is eaten, they will be staked somewhere else in the yard; a fine way of mowing if I do say so myself. We are jamming out to the only radio station we could find. We got to see more of Cochabamba during the twenty or so minute drive out here; Bolivia is an amazingly beautiful country; I feel very special to have the opportunity to be here, and already feel at home. I would like very much to hear from everyone, whether email or airmail..hope everyone is doing well..take care!

After two very long days in Miami, a nineteen hour day and a twenty five or so hour day, we were able to get some rest in Cochabamba. Everyone in the training group had a good opportunity to meet and hang out while going over some really good pre-service information. The group is made up of a great group of people from all over. We have not seen much of the actual city of Cochabamba, but what I have seen so far is beautiful.

Although I don't know much at this point, I do know where I will be for the first few months. Cochabamba is the third largest city in Bolivia,

and definitely a very cool place to send letters.

I would love, love, love to hear from everyone from time to time.

You can send airmail letters to

"My name", PCT

Cuerpo de Paz

Casilla #1603

Cochabamba, Bolivia

South America

through the end of June, but anything after that might not make it in time. As always, feel free to email me (USA_Rball@hotmail.com). More to come when it happens. Take Care!