um, so blogger kinda sucks. And livejournal seems to have sold out completely.

I've made the switch to wordpress.

Find me here http://fullandbye.wordpress.com/

A political situation that has been slowly stewing here in Jamaica for almost a year completely exploded last week and has in the past few days made headlines around the world.

If you read no further, know that I am safe. Peace Corps always stresses that volunteer safety is their number one priority. While I have sometimes doubted the wisdom of specific safety policies (helmets while driving a donkey cart? Really?) The past few days have definitely ossified my faith in Peace Corps having their act together when situations get legitimately dicey.

And dicey they are indeed. News can gotten anywhere. For back story, the best journal article summarizing the situation (as of last week, before things got "hot") is this article here. Very comprehensive. Good reading too.

This story was published before the violence began. Since then there has been fighting between government security (military and constabulary force) and the private militia armed and paid by organized crime figures. Most of the major news outlets are on this story so information should be easy to come by.

Like most conflicts that make world press, this one is concentrated in a a few cities. There is a visceral tension in people's mood even in this bucolic outpost. But really, were it not for the media it would be hard to notice anything amiss throughout most of the country. Port Antonio remains peaceful, laid back, and pleasant. Moore Town remains quiet, beautiful, and friendly. When it comes down to it, farmers in the Rio Grande Valley (farmers everywhere, presumably) have other things to worry about.

I am not worried for myself at all. I am worried for my friends in the JDF.

My move from Port Royal could not have come at a more fortuitous time. When I was still in Port Royal, anytime I went to Kingston I had to travel right through the part of Kingston that is now the heart of this conflict. I met some wonderful and engaging people; taxi drivers, market ladies, hawkers, domino players, and buskers. I worry for these people too.

Updates as they come. Several people around the world--in Ghana, Israel, Seattle, Italy etc. have contacted me to ask about my safety. I am profoundly touched by the concern. It means a lot. I hope I have put your minds at ease. Anyone with further questions about me or about this situation is, of course, welcome to contact me privately off-list.

Tuesday will be the one-year anniversary of my shipping out from Seattle. The image from that 737 of Mt. Index and Lake Serene as we passed over the Cascades remains as clear in my mind as though it were yesterday. In a sense, it feels like yesterday.

Peace.

If there is hell, I hope there is a special place reserved in hell for the asshole who started the myth that roosters only crow at dawn.

I have news for you, urban dwellers who have never been around a cock in your life: Roosters crow whenever the hell they feel like it.

I actually think that roosters crow whenever their five functioning neurons manage to fire simultaneously and give roosters a "thought" (including the thought "Holy shit! I'm a rooster!).

But it is true that roosters crow a lot more at dawn. This is easily explained by my previous logic. I think that roosters are so dumb that by daybreak they have forgotten completely what dawn is so they think "holy shit! it's getting light outside!" and then once it is light they are surprised by pretty much everything they see; "Holy shit! Two sticks in some mud!" or "Holy shit! A pile of garbage!"

I am all for civil liberties. But after living in rooster land for a year already, I can really appreciate Seattle's ban on urban rooster keeping.

For some reason (laziness mostly) I have kept the predictive text feature on my phone turned on.

In the past this has led to some pretty amusing discoveries; such as the time I tried to write "guacamole" but my phone decided upon the term "hubbanoke". Not knowing what a "hubbanoke" is I nevertheless tried to use it in scrabble. It did not work. Apparently the nokia dictionary does not cut the scrabble mustard (or guacamole).

But it does now and again come up with a gem of irony.

Behold! The numeral combination that yields the word "pants" will, as the second option no less, also create the word "scots". The Scots of course are an ethnic minority in the British Isles known among other things for not wearing pants.

This gives me a sense of peace; the irony of the phone.

Is it bad that I use this blog to publicly ponder random things going on in my head as much or more than I use it to provide a glimpse into the exotic and titillating life of a Peace Corps volunteer? I promise I will write more about Jamaica. But right now I want to post a thought about social media sites.

A recent slew of wall posts on my facebook account led a friend to observe that we now have the choice to either reveal almost nothing to acquaintances, or to reveal a whole lot more than perhaps should be revealed in one fell swoop with people we are just getting to know.

It is an interesting point. On the one hand, I doubt if my close friends could learn much by poring over the details of my facebook profile. But I also frequently "friend" people who I have just met but who I very much want to stay in contact with. In a few minutes examining my facebook profile, these people can learn lots of trivial things about me, and a handful of not trivial things about me. Before facebook, these trivial and non trivial things used to be revealed to a new friend slowly through the process of dialogue and mutual inquiry.

I guess the question is whether or not this really matters. I think it does. For all the poo-pooing that smalltalk gets, I think that smalltalk is actually kind of important in the process of making friends: You meet someone, you smalltalk. After you smalltalk a little, you move into bigger and more substantive topics of conversation, and after you know someone a while longer you might feel comfortable getting into the lengthy sorts of dialogues that reveal some really complex facet of your being. Isn't this the process of making friends? I wonder if we interact with people differently now that we can largely circumvent that process of discovery. I no longer need to engage in a series of conversations with a new friend to discover what their taste in music or art is, or how they like to spend their freetime, or even how they feel about divisive political issues. Shit, I can even see if they are married, single, or in an "it's complicated" situation.

In speaking with this friend it dawned upon me that maybe we have lost something really valuable to facebook. Have we lost the process of discovery? Have we lost an essential element of the process of making friends? I am reminded of the series of scupltures in the Michaelangelo museum in Florence. As you approach the statue of "David", on either side of the corridor are some studies that Michaelangelo never finished. They are haunting and beautiful, these forms forever trapped in the marble. But isn't the process of making a friend in large part the process of mutually chipping away at each other's exteriors until you reveal and let yourself be revealed? Isn't this what dialogue is, really? And isn't dialogue the root of friendship?

I worry that facebook has made public identity too cartesian, too reductionistic. There is really nothing on my facebook that I consider very private at all, but I still think that something of human interaction is lost when we can get by with learning the details of someones life through an itemized list without going through the process of asking questions and exchanging bits of information to reveal the form underneath the formless exterior.

This is my last night as a resident of Port Royal. Tomorrow morning I move to Moore Town in Portland Parish.

This is a maudlin occasion. I am excited to get working on my next project, but I am realizing just how settled into the life I have become here.

This all got me thinking about skipping stones.

Hard to watch these ripples fade. But I'm definitely excited to skip some more stones.

Tomorrow is my last day in Port Royal. Bright and early Tuesday Jeffrey the awesome PC staff member will pick me up and we will road trip it up to my new site. I'm excited to head up there. I am also going to miss Port Royal. This town is something special. It is safe and small and friendly and everyone has their nose in everyone else's business.

Also, I have become something of a B-list celebrity to the local kids. With my newfound powers I can get them to stop hitting each other simply by staring at them. I am so happy I chose to remain living with my host family here rather than moving into my own place. To be sure, my room is kinda small and kinda hot, and it is really loud. But by living here for a full 7 months I have become really close to my landlord and now consider him to be my Jamaican brother. I have an open invitation to come back here whenever I want and I intend to take him up on the offer.

Sail race today. Boat was shorthanded and it was blowing 25-30kts solid, so we decided to sail a white sail race rather than attempt anything with the chute. Some good tactics heading to the first mark put us more than a mile over our competition and everything was going perfectly until the hydraulic backstay ram blew a seal and spewed oil all over the place. Disaster! The piston for the adjuster is maybe 7" or so, but these seven inches mean the difference between a taut forestay and a slack forestay. They also mean the difference between a properly tensioned mast and a disaster waiting to happen. We finished the downwind leg fully rigged but had to douse the jib before beating back to the finish line. Without the jib, progress was slow and we did not have enough power to really punch through the steep chop. This ultimately meant a lot of pounding and a lot of spray.

Oh well. So long as no one gets hurt and so long as the boat is not seriously damaged, the worst day sail racing is still better than the best day doing most other things. So I really cannot complain. I mean, who else in Peace Corps gets to race sailboats sometimes?

Boy oh boy and am I ever in a bloggy sort of mood.

So while I am at it, let me put down this thought.

Today Republicans blocked debate on financial reform. This toddler-esque behavior is apparently how they intend to participate in "governance" during the Obama administration. This infantile bullshit is a deliberate act to sabotage the core function of the great deliberative body of government. How thoughtful! How patriotic! How confident they must be in their policy positions if they find it necessary to completely torpedo the very conversation in which they might defend those positions.

It reminds me of the ten rules for debate I would always introduce when facilitating a class section in college.

Sidney Hooks ten rules for debate. Presented here in their entirety.

1. Nothing and no one is immune from criticism.2. Everyone involved in a controversy has an intellectual responsibility to inform himself of the available facts.3. Criticism should be directed first to policies, and against persons only when they are responsible for policies, and against their motives or purposes only when there is some independent evidence of their character.4. Because certain words are legally permissible, they are not therefore morally permissible.5. Before impugning an opponent’s motives, even when they legitimately may be impugned, answer his arguments.6. Do not treat an opponent of a policy as if he were therefore a personal enemy of the country or a concealed enemy of democracy.7. Since a good cause may be defended by bad arguments, after answering the bad arguments for another’s position present positive evidence for your own.8. Do not hesitate to admit lack of knowledge or to suspend judgment if evidence is not decisive either way.9. Only in pure logic and mathematics, not in human affairs, can one demonstrate that something is strictly impossible. Because something is logically possible, it is not therefore probable. “It is not impossible” is a preface to an irrelevant statement about human affairs. The question is always one of the balance of probabilities. And the evidence for probabilities must include more than abstract possibilities.10. The cardinal sin, when we are looking for truth of fact or wisdom of policy, is refusal to discuss, or action which blocks discussion.I wish these were prominently displayed somewhere in each house of congress.

Why do I always think of the best nicknames after the fact?

When I was a freshman at theatre design conservatory one of our assignments was to design a soup can label. I made a label that my design teacher loved. It was very sleek, very modern, and was for gazpacho. I did not think of the Razpacho play until long after I had turned in this project.

Why oh why did I only think of "Razputin" recently?

I should have considered this nickname sometime in the winter of 2007.

Behold, Rasputin.

And now Razputin. This photo was taken February 2007 after 4 months of not shaving.

Uncanny or what?

News Brief: I've gotten approval to pursue a project in Moore Town, Portland Parish in the Lower Rio Grande Valley. Moore Town is the major cultural/historical center of the Windward Maroons. There are some nifty articles online if you want to read more about the Windward Maroons, or the Jamaican Maroons in general. I will move in early May most likely but housing in the community still must be indentified. I visited Moore Town a few weeks ago and I absolutely loved it. Cannot wait to get out there and get into the swing.

I am working with the current batch of Peace Corps Trainees (they got here on March 18) to get trained in literacy training techniques because I would love to work with the two schools in Moore Town in addition to the environmental projects I want to pursue. This is pretty much the measure of things at the moment.

I really love spending time with trainees, learning their motivations, their histories, their ambitions. I am not sure exactly what rubrics Peace Corps applies to determine who gets invited to serve, but I am pretty sure that in addition to overall awesomeness (PCVs on the whole are a quality bunch) they look carefully to see how applicants fall on two scales or axes. This brings us to the title of this blog post.

So, I am increasingly convinced that to get into Peace Corps and to be happy in Peace Corps and to keep Peace Corps' faith in you, you must fall in some "sweet spot" along two crucial axes: The axis of ambition, and the axis of crazy. Let's discuss.

There is such a thing in Peace Corps as too much ambition. I would be very worried if I were interviewing someone for PC and this someone was convinced that given a plane ticket, a few months of training, and a mosquito net, they could substantially reduce the AIDS rate in Botswana. This person would be way high on the axis. Likewise, I would be pretty nervous about an applicant whose motivation seemed more driven by simple wanderlust than any motivation to serve. It is not unheard of for Vols to get pretty nihilistic and catatonic in Peace Corps. Ultimately on the axis of ambition you need to fall somewhere in the middle.

The axis of crazy is a little harder to think about. Really, you need to be kinda crazy just to fill out the application and get an interview in the first place. The application is long, the essays prompt are vague, and the pre-service medical instructs doctors to stick their fingers in your ass (note: I managed to dodge this bullet for pre-service medical but my number was up when I had to med-check to transfer). So it is already sort of a given that applicants are a little bit nuts, the point is that they cannot be too crazy. You need to be crazy enough to apply for a job without knowing what continent you might get sent to, let alone any real job description. You need to be crazy to willingly subject yourself to isolation, sickness, climatic extremes, and a life without coffee for 2+ years. But you cannot be so crazy that Peace Corps is worried you might turn into some Colonel Kurtz.

Keeping yourself sane and motivated once you get here of course is an entirely different story.

Enough for now.

Current time: 22:30 Current location: Port RoyalCurrent Temperature: Low 80s, presumably.Current Music: The Pixies. The riff at the start of "Here Comes Your Man" just kills me every time. "Doolittle" is such an amazing album. State of the Raz: sleepy, hopeful, excited for next steps.

It has been the weirdest 24 hours.

Also, hi! Hello! Been awhile. Have a seat.

Ths short of it:I am changing sites. Following the opening of the PRML Biodiversity Centre in late January, things took a turn for the worse at that site. This is one of those shitty adult situations where there is plenty of culpability and bad feelings to go round, but no one person is to blame. Sometimes I wish life were more like comic books or Disney movies; clear villains, heroes out to defend the meek, and citizens who are generally charming even if they are also generally boring. But no. Life is not like that and sometimes shitty situations arise despite all parties involved being ernest and well-meaning.

I wonder if this is the innocence that is lost in childhood? I used to think that childhood innocence lost meant the realization that ordinary people are capable of behaving in manners that are destructive. Now I wonder if what is lost is not really innocence, but the false belief that all bad situations arise from a confrontation between guilt and innocence, when often situations simply arise when two well intentioned people simply cannot constructively share a context.

Sometimes I think I am a grown-up. Today I am not so sure.

Sorry for the abstract nature of this post. I'm sure I can fill you in on more details at some point, but certainly not in this forum. You can email me though! If you do email me, be sure to tell me a story in your email. You could just tell me about your day, or you could tell me another story.

Don't think you have any good stories? Bullshit. Come on! Tell a story! You are beautiful! You are interesting! Express yourself! Be free! fjdlkjdgbvkjnvbjf!!! See? Was that so hard?

The project I have been working on since coming to Jamaica opens to the public a week from Tuesday. I am so excited, but also frantically busy. It is a good feeling.

On a specimen collection dive on friday (coral mostly, but also some invertebrates) I saw a sea turtle. The turtle was maybe 20' deep and was hiding under a ledge in the reef. It was maybe 1 meter in diameter and I later was able to identify it as a green turtle. So gorgeous. Nature's penchant for color and pattern is best displayed in tropical ecosystems. Simply amazing. Peace Corps life can be trying at times, but moments like that make up for every frustration.

Book thoughts.

I just recently reread A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and I enjoyed it much more this time. I first read that book when in between my second and third years of college, and I really did not get it. But the book is really a book about the compromises to youth that Dave Eggers made on account of finding himself suddenly a parent. The context is so much clearer now. Strangely, the book is about Eggers' life between the ages of 21 and 27 and these ages are likewise the ages of my first and second readings. Now that I have experienced life post-college and now that 25 does not seem ancient (at 21 I could hardly imagine being 25) the experiences recounted in the book are so much more relatable. What is interesting is that they are not relatable because they are similar to my experiences, but because now I can see what Dave Eggers felt cheated out of. I was so focused on finishing college when I first read the book, that the thought of being post-college with a sibling sidekick just did not seem that weird. Now I can look back and say with full confidence that the past five years that I have treasured so much for the independence and self-definition they afforded me would be gone were I to find myself in Eggers' situation.

Currently rereading Tropic of Cancer. So good. This book I read only four years ago or so, but on this reading I appreciate it differently as well. I think that living abroad is part of this difference in perspective. One of the strange things about living overseas is that I am frequently surprised by who my friends are. It is easy to bond with other expats but sometimes I wonder to myself "would I really be friends with these people in any other situation?". I think Miller frequently asked himself the same thing living in Paris. Incidentally, this question is also at the heart of the film "The Breakfast Club". Not sure where I am going with this line of reasoning.

But what I am really enjoying about this reading of Tropic of Cancer is the historicality of the book. I take it for granted that Henry Miller was more prone to discussing matters of the flesh than most of his (or our) contemporaries. But what makes the book so delightful is to revel in the incongrouity between it and pretty much all other english language (or photographic) representations of life between the two world wars. Not counting pics of the depression era destitute, people looked so damn classy in 1932! And the Hays Production Code further adds to the sanitized view I have of this era. So Miller's work is this wonderful little time capsule that assures me that despite their clothes, and despite the cinematic representation of their time, people then (at least Miller and the people in his circle) were every bit as debaucherous as anything I can imagine now. I take comfort in this fact.

The earthquake that has wreaked devastation upon Haiti was hardly felt in Jamaica.

I am fine.

I am not sure if I felt the earthquake or not. I was in the water up to my waist at the time, and had been in the water and off and on boats all day so I was sorta sea-leggy. I do know that I noticed waves but could not find a ship that kicked up the wake, I did not think much of it. There was a tsunami warning for the North side of the island (I am South side) but it expired pretty quickly.

That said, the situation is Haiti is really bad. Now is a good time to donate. I have not heard anything about whether Peace Corps Response (formerly Crisis Corps) will go and help with the reconstruction effort. Hopefully yes, but these things take time. If there is any way for PC Jamaica volunteers to work on this effort, I will definitely try to get there.

Otherwise. Work is going well. I am really busy and we open the biodiversity centre in less than two weeks. I am learning a lot about aquarium chemistry and am getting a lot better at managing the various tanks. Generally happy, generally productive.

I reread A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Currently rereading Tropic of Cancer. I will probably write a post on this experience as well.

To sum up

State of Haiti: Disaster.

State of Jamaica: No More Disastrous Than Usual.

State of Raz: Pretty happy. Definitely ready to go home and bathe.

State of Clothing: Trousers filthy. Keens smelling REALLY bad (what do I do about this? Any suggestions?)

Current Time: 17:35

Current Weather: Low 80's, slight southeasterly breeze.

I am just over 25% done with Peace Corps. I cannot believe it.

A plane crashed at the Kingston Airport last night, about 5 miles from my house. I heard nothing but woke up to quite a commotion in Port Royal this morning.

I also woke up in the middle of the night last night to what was quite possibly the most extraordinary symphony of dogs barking I have ever experienced. This all happened about 4hrs after the plane crash and might be related. There is really no way of knowing. I did not wake up because of the dogs barking (I woke up from a bad dream and was incredibly thirsty) but I noticed the dogs barking because it made it that much harder to fall asleep.

Work is going well, although can be frustrating at times. We keep on having mechanical problems getting the aquaria up and running and it takes a long time to fix stuff around here. Hopefully once the center is up and running I will be able to spend more time doing outreach and education and less time trying to get ornery saltwater pumps to work. The past three weeks have been really slow, with lots of people on leave and not a lot going on.

I miss Ghana pretty bad but it is hard to pinpoint what I miss. I also miss Seattle, but in a totally different way.

I think that when we miss something or someone we not only miss that person or that thing, but we also miss the self that they bring out in us. Having identity reified by familiarity is a blessing and a curse I suppose. There is great liberation to be found in changes of context, but this process can still be lonely and scary. It is true that no matter where you are you are always in your own company, but I think the Xhosa saying that that "people are people through other people" is incredibly powerful and incredibly true.

I am reminded of the famous admissions essay prompt for Amherst College that went "Sartre said, 'Hell is other people'; but Streisand sang, 'People who need people/Are the luckiest people in the world.' With whom do you agree and why? Don't be icky."

I love this prompt, but it is too binary and taken literally as an either/or option it misses the point. The balance between self-definition and existence of self through encounter is the key tension in the dynamics of identity. I doubt if there is a clean resolution or perfect balance. So maybe a key to happiness is finding beauty and peace in eternal struggles while also avoiding being icky?

Happy tidings of Yule, everyone.

This post is intended for the next group of Peace Corps Jamaica volunteers and is an aside to the flurry of postings on the facebook wall for PCJM.

Some thoughts on what to bring and what to bring it in.

Luggage does not matter that much. After you unpack, your checked luggage will go into a closet or under your bed and you will not think about it until you go home.

That said, soft luggage is always better than hard luggage. I am particularly fond of the army surplus "parachute bags" that are inexpensive, durable, and large. I packed in one of these, plus an eagle creek travel backpack I originally got for backpacking around Europe. You could also pack in backpacking hiking bags but you risk damaging the frame and all the straps and fastex etc. Simpler is better. Some people like wheely bags. I am generally not a big fan. Designer luggage is a waste of money, but cheap luggage that falls apart on you is even worse. Durability is worth paying for, but inexpensive options exist.

My carry-on bag (and the bag I use when I travel around the island) is a messenger backpack made by Chrome Bags. It is the enormous "Sultan" messenger bag and I love it because it is streamlined, bombproof, and waterproof. Also sorta expensive (although not expensive looking). It might make me look a little more like a tourist but I don't worry about it too much. Osprey gives PCVs discounts and they make some great backpacks and shoulder bags so that might be a cheaper option than Chrome. Messenger bags are more socially acceptable than backpacks here, so you might want to get a largish one as your carry-on. Keen makes some nice bags. Ditto Timbuktu (horrible colors though). Keen offers a great discount to PCVs. I think Timbuktu does as well. I am trying to get a pro-deal from Chrome but so far, no luck.

For your "personal item" you can do whatever. I brought a camelbak backpack when I went to Ghana. If I had known I was coming to Jamaica I probably would have brought a not too large shoulder bag because they are more socially acceptable than backpacks around here. I use the backpack though, and it is fine.

In my opinion, these are the things that all volunteers serving in all hot countries should bring with them no matter what. Actually, except for the sandals and maybe the hammock (although I have used my hammock in freezing conditions), this list is global. You should note that I am a dude, and there might be some indispensable items for ladies but I am not aware of what they are.

************** begin essentials list ************

A thermarest sleeping pad. I like the full length one, but the 3/4 is fine too, especially if you are short.

A hammock. I love my hennessy hammock. And they give discounts to PCVs. ENO hammocks are good too. Not a fan of the Byer brand. The ENO slapstrap is awesome.

Two 32oz nalgene bottles.

A pair of chacos or tevas. I prefer chacos. The literature says not to bring these. You will be happy you did bring them.

Some very good glue. A bottle of gorilla glue, a tube of shoe goo, and a tube of krazyglue should get you out of most trouble. You can get some of this stuff here, but not all of it.

Lots of pictures of your friends/family/favorite places from home.

A headlamp.

Lots of earplugs if you are a light sleeper.

Some ex-officio or under-armour underwear. Ex-officio offers a screaming discount and their products are fantastic.

Some music.

A few books. We have lots of books here and we trade them all the time. Also, books are eligible to be shipped via "m-bags" so you can get a bunch of books shipped to you relatively cheaply. Peace Corps is a great time to get up on your reading and read some epics you have meant to read for a long time (Infinite Jest, Don Quixote, War and Peace(corps) are all favorites).

A couple sarongs, or kikhois, or "two-yards" or something. Go to a fabric shop and get a couple two yard long pieces of cotton fabric. When you are traveling you will use these as a sheet, blanket, pillow, towel, bindle etc.

If you wear glasses, then a prescription pair of sunglasses is indispensable. Some optics companies offer a PC discount, but I am not sure which ones.

Having a computer is great. Netbooks are small, cheap, and are probably a better choice than a fullsize lappy. That said, if you were not planning on buying a new computer then bring the one you have. You can also do fine with no computer, but it is nice to have for sure.

*********** end essentials list***********

Some other stuff to think about.

If you like to write letters, bring some "forever" stamps. You can send mail to the US through the embassy and these stamps will save you on postage. Because they are forever, they will work throughout your time here regardless of postage rates in the US.

The birds here are awesome. Bring binoculars if you are into that sort of thing.

If someone brings "The Settlers of Catan" game that person will achieve instant canonization in the cult of Raz.

One last note:

Peace Corps is challenging in ways you cannot even imagine. You will have bad days. Sometimes you will have bad weeks. While you are at this point in the process (the "ohmygodIamsoexcitedholyshitholyshit!" phase) take a few minutes and write down why you are doing this. Write something similar to the essay you wrote when you applied to PC, but make it just for you. When you have a bad day you can look at this letter and be reminded what inspired you to join peace corps in the first place. This sounds corny and stupid. I assure you it is a worthwhile exercise.

I fully realize that getting the the Bear Corps Act passed into law and establishing Bear Corps is no easy feat, but I would like to point out that there is historical precedence of a bear being a part of an armored corps.

That's right. In World War II, a Polish artillery regiment had a bear that fought alongside them.

There is a pretty good wikipedia article about this bear. The bear also made badass of the week sometime ago.

If bears can leave their native lands and serve overseas in the name of war, surely they would also be willing to do so in the name of peace, right?

This idea is undoubtedly the best idea I have ever had. Who wants to sign my petition?

Years ago, inspired by boredom (among other things) I made a map showing monkey distribution around the globe.

The other day I got to thinking and I hypothesized that Peace Corps volunteers are disproportionately represented in monkeyland and totally under represented in bear country.

Fortunately, a good friend from home (hi Mary!) was willing to work on this problem, and my hunch was correct. This map shows PCV, Monkey, and Bear distribution around the world. The results are very troubling.

One way to rectify this problem is to send PCVs into Bear Country, but this is ridiculous for reasons so obvious that they do not merit mention. A much more practical solution is for the US Government to launch BearCorps and send Bears to deserving places.

A petition is imminent. Now is the time for action.

Lastly, I know that the map mistakenly suggests that Polar Bears live in Antarctica. While this is sadly not the case, hopefully the first BearCorps volunteers will go to Antarctica and give that part of the world the Bears it deserves.

Oh, hello friends.

A few things.

Life is going pretty well here in Port Royal. They are keeping me really busy at the lab, and for the most part I am enjoying what I am doing. By the end of this experience I will know more about saltwater aquaria than I ever imagined I would know (as of this writing this is already true).

Last week I got to go diving for the first time since coming to the island. Three dives, none deeper than 40 feet or so. All dives were coral survey dives, and my job was to run the surveyors tape if the transect marker line was broken. Saw some pretty cool creatures. It was a good day.

I spent today at work, but will be hanging out with some other PCVs this weekend and will celebrate Thanksgiving with them. Being this far away from so many people I love, I am still thankful most of all for the people who make life what it is. Thankful for friends, and especially for the friends that remain my friends even though we have not seen each other for awhile and will not see each other for a while yet.

I am about two weeks shy of being one-quarter through service. This is a pretty weird thought. The days have sometimes been slow, but the weeks have flown past. I hear that Peace Corps Time seems to accelerate as you get further along. I can believe it.

A couple stories in brief.

Story the first: There was a christian revival meeting in the street outside my house the other night when I wanted to go to bed. I went out for a minute to see what was going on, but ultimately decided that the whole affair was not for me. So I was in my room, trying to fall asleep, and generally none too pleased with what was going on. Then I reached up to get my water bottle, and managed to knock the heaviest book on my bookshelf (Infinite Jest) off the bookshelf and right onto my junk.

Story the second:

Yesterday I had this conversation with a friend from home who shall remain nameless.

Me: I saw the most amazing stingray this afternoon.

FFH: In the water?

Me: No. It was out walking around in a three piece suit. That is why it was so extraordinary!

It took some explaining before I understood that this person was actually asking if I was in the water. The answer is no. I was in a boat. But the stingray was amazing. They really move beautifully through the water.

in Jamaica. Arrived safely here three weeks ago this wednesday, and things have been a whirlwind ever since.

Training was greatly accelerated (thank goodness). The amount of time given to health and medical in Ghana is about the same amount of time given to safety and security here. The reason is pretty obvious: Generally speaking, in Ghana the people will not harm you but the environment can kill you. Here it is safe to drink the water and there is no real risk of malaria, but the violent crime statistics are astonishing. So I had an accelerated crash course on getting by in Jamaica, and one week after arriving in country I got to site and settled in. This was the first time in six months that I unpacked and was not living out of a backpack. It felt amazing.

Working at the Port Royal Marine Laboratory and things are peachy. I love the people I work with and the work I am doing. The lab is in the middle of building a sort of visitors center, and one of my primary projects for the next while will be developing interpretive media and programs for visitors. Right now though we are still putting things together so my time has been spent out at sea collecting some live specimens (and sand, and rocks, and coral). A lot of my time has also been spent reading about the local marine ecology. And a lot of my time has been spent trying to plumb a particularly ornery sand filter. I am covered with bruises and cuts from being tossed around on boats, and for a couple days my hands were dyed blue from where I spilled PVC cement all over them. Life is good.

I am living in Port Royal (the wickedest city in christendom) and it is fantastic. The community is small, close-knit, and proud of its heritage as a city once governed by the pirates--locals proudly claim that one of the cultural remnants of the pirate days is their fluency in profanities. This town is a a little fishing town. It is possible to buy fish straight from the dories every morning. I love it.

I have a lot to say about Ghana too. Given a little time and space I am developing a different perspective from the one I had when I was in country. To be honest, I miss Ghana more than I expected I would. I think part of this is missing people. But Ghana really is something special. The pages of my journal are filled with observations to this point, but I need to organize them into a more reasonable bit of writing before I go spouting stuff all over the internet.

A closing thought: Pulling a dead 10' hammerhead shark from the water is a pretty extraordinary way to start a day.

Lastly, I posted pics from Ghana on my flickr page. http://www.flickr.com/photos/razi enjoy!

Oh shit oh shit oh shit!

I am transferring to Jamaica. To work on a coastal project. I know very little in the way of details, but judging from a phone conversation a few weeks ago with the environment APCD there, my SCUBA experience will come in handy. I am unspeakably excited. And nervous. And everything.

Found out a few hours ago. Feeling an enormous rush of emotion as I go through the administrative motions required to get me on a plane...tonight.

Yikes!

To say that the past 7 weeks since site visit have been emotional would be an understatement. I am so relieved and excited and scared and nervous and hopeful and sad and anxious all at the same time.

But I believe in my heart that this is the best option for me. I will miss people terribly (one person especially) but the project there just sounds like such a perfect fit. Trying not to get my expectations too high of course, but this sounds like a project for which I am uniquely qualified. I hope it works out.

Closing thought: I am sure there are weirder ways to start your morning than having a doctor's finger up your ass, but I am hard pressed to imagine them just now.

Keep you all posted. Ghana, its been emotional.

Things did not work out quite as I had hoped for.

I made it to site on Wednesday. It took a lot of haggling and several hours until a bush taxi finally agreed to go up that way, but I was at the house right around midday. I said hello to some villagers I had met and the walked down the bush path to the house with about 20 kids in tow.

I walked in the house and the effects were almost immediate. As it turns out, the community had cleaned the walls below the ceiling, but the above the ceiling were still literally encrusted with batshit. The ceiling had been torn out and so it was possible to see that batshit was also all over the beams holding up the roof. I did not stay to give the house much of an inspection; my eyes were watery and starting to itch and my throat was starting to tingle. I bounded outside, got the epi-pen ready, and waited to see if the reaction would get any worse. It did not, so I called the medical officers and they told me to get my ass outta there and head towards Accra. I sent some kids in for my luggage and walked back to the center of the village to wait for a car.

So, Agou-Fie is a pretty small place. Less than a thousand people live there, and it is on a spur road that branches off from the main Nkwanta-Damanko road several miles. For the record, traveling on the Nkwanta-Damanko road (or for that matter, going from Hohoe to Tamale via Nkwanta) is something that the guide books say is "for the very adventurous". So you can imagine what adventure awaits those who go down the dead end road that is an offshoot of the "main road" that is "off the beaten path". Curious what the adventure is like? It involves a lot of waiting by the roadside for a car to take you away.

I waited for a car for several hours. Down the road even further, along the shores of Lake Volta is a town called Kabiti and seeing as how wednesday was kabiti market day, all the cars going to kabiti were full of people going to market, and all the cars coming from kabiti were full of people coming back from market. Eventually I hitched a ride on a tractor that was going that way and then secured a spot on a bus that was filling with people returning to Nkwanta. I looked for my counterpart in the market for a bit, but I was unsuccessful at finding him and after an hour or so the bus had filled and we drove back towards Nkwanta. I spent the night in a nurses quarters house attached to the district hospital and on Thursday morning got a 5am car to Hohoe and then continued to Accra, arriving by 2pm or so.

Since then...meetings.

Met with the medical staff and told them what happened, met with the Country Director to discuss how to move forward, and met with my program director to discuss what to do now.

Here is the plan: Everyone is in agreement that I cannot return to that site. Everyone is also in agreement that I cannot stay in Accra indefinitely while an alternative placement is developed. So the plan right now is for me to go and stay with my friend Hannah at her site in Northern Region while John (my program director) hatches a plan. I know I can safely stay at Hannah's site because i spent a couple nights there in July on field trip and had no problems. Ultimately, my ability to remain in country will depend on whether a suitable alternative site can be found, and whether that site is truly ready for a volunteer.

I want to stay here. I like it here. I am also acutely aware of just how many resources have been put into getting me this far. At the same time though, spending time in a site that is not well poised to partner with a volunteer is not a good use of my time or PC resources. Of course, only one half of this decision is really mine to make. I can end my service in Ghana at any time, but it is up to Peace Corps to decide whether they want to expend the resources to place me in another country. I really hope it does not come to this. I love serving in Peace Corps, but dealing with any bureaucracy is a pain in the ass and I really like Ghana.

Hopefully a site can be found soon and after more than five months living out of a backpack I will finally be able to end this recent stint as a wandering Jew.

So that is the plan. As soon as my laundry dries, I will be overjoyed to get out of Accra. This city is considered the Pearl of West Africa, and while it is indeed a vibrant and interesting place, it is also loud, expensive, and pretty overwhelming when you have been living in a small farming village in Eastern Region for the past two months.

That is the measure of things.

I know it has been eons since I last posted. Since coming to Ghana, I have had my computer locked in an office. I could have just written a post on the web, but web services here are frequently slooooow and it made much more sense to wait for my machine and some time so I could compose at my leisure.

Enough nonsense. On to the post!

August 13, 2009.

ANYINASIN, EASTERN REGION, GHANA.

Ten weeks to the day after emerging from the cool, dessicated environment of a 767 into the lush sweat of a morning in Accra, I am no longer a Peace Corps Trainee, but have today become a Peace Corps Volunteer.

The past 70 days have been pretty remarkable. Rather than sum up everything that has happened, I will instead provide an overview of the process as a whole, and a few snapshots of events that merit mention.

The Training Process: Peace Corps is a pretty big bureaucracy. Each country program is its own smaller bureaucracy. As with any bureaucracy a lot of effort is given to the task of managing risk. In this case the risks are pretty obvious: sending a bunch of people, generally young, many who have never been outside the US before, and for the most part pretty idealistic and outspoken, into rural Africa could result in some trouble without proper training. The training takes multiple forms from technical training (eg: how to build a soak-away pit for malaria control), lots of language training (in this group of 63 trainees I think we learned 14 languages), and most important of all: how not to get sent home early either by violating policy, compromising your security, or getting really sick.

They say that if you can get through the ten weeks of training, that the rest of your service is a cinch. While I doubt that this is precisely the case, I can say that these past ten weeks have been trying at the worst of times, but also pretty fantastic most of the time. After the first two weeks together, we left the greater Accra area and moved our operation to the Eastern Region where the hub training site is. During the past eight weeks we all lived with homestay families in communities near the training center, and over the past eight weeks I have become quite close to my homestay family. I have also bonded with the 12 other people in the Water and Sanitation sector, the rest of the group as a whole, and the various American and Ghanaian trainers all of whom were supportive and helpful.

A bit more about homestay: Five people comprised my immediate homestay family (the venerable Ofori Amanfo family of Anyinasin). They are my host father, Mr. Yaw Ofori Amanfo, my host mom Rose, my brother Kwame (aged 16), my sister Akua (aged 14) and my adorable eight year old brother Kwabena "Junior". The first few days when we were still getting to know each other were admittedly pretty awkward. I had to convince them that I was not only capable of carrying my own bucket of bathing water but I also really did not need anyone posted outside the bathing room while I bathed. It was a pretty steep learning curve both ways; me learning to eat with my hands (just the right hand, actually) and my family getting over the fact that despite my ripe old age of 26, I am still unmarried and (as far as I am aware) have not sired a single child. In addition to this cultural exchange I also had to get used to the realities of living in the second largest compound house in the community. I am still not sure exactly how many people, chickens, and goats lived in the compound, but I am pretty sure that the respective ratio was something about 1:1.5:2 and that at least 20 people lived in the compound. You do the math.

I was incredibly fortunate in homestay. I really enjoyed my family, and I hope and believe that they enjoyed having me too. They were generous, welcoming, accomodating, and patient. They made me feel very much at home and were keen on me joining them in the running of the house; fetching water, washing clothes by hand, and cooking on a charcoal stove every night. My father is a also one of two or three sub-chiefs of Anyinasin--the Gyasehene (jya-seh-heh-neh). This fact led to me wearing royalty beads walking around the village and frequently being addressed not simply as Kwaku Ofori (ellided to "Kwaku'fori"), but as Nana Ofori (Chief Ofori). My father's chiefdom also led me to meet many many people in the village who would come by the house to seek his counsel on any number of issues that came up during the our two months together.

Some other quick things that merit mention, and then back to the news. Each of these snippets has a larger story behind it, but this post is getting long enough.

*Small Ghanaian children are frequently terrified at the sight of an "obruni". The parents of these unfortunate children find their hysterics absolutely uproarious and actively encourage us honkys to approach their children and terrify them. Incidentally, this was also the case in South Africa, but in SA it was a lot harder to find children who were not pretty accustomed to seeing caucasians.

*If a cobra lives in your latrine, you can solve the problem by throwing a molotov cocktail into the abyss.

*If approached by a Juju war dancer while trying to enjoy a quiet beverage on a patio, expect to pay some sort of fee to get him (and his drum corps) to go away. Until you do he will do all sorts of strange and vaguely menacing things with the assortment of large knives tucked into his costume.

*Riding in a minibus for 6 hours as it bumps down a dusty dirt road will result in every single fair-skinned person in the car looking like an overgrown oompah-loompah.

*You can get away with some really amazing clothing around here. Shorts are generally off limits, but if your shorts are manpris made of velveteen leopard print and you are wearing a smock made of a different velveteen leopard print you will be complimented on your fine choice of attire.

And now, some breaking (and possibly heartbreaking) news:

A few weeks ago I visited my site, and this turned out to be the single most difficult time of the training. After living out of a backpack for five months I was really ready to unpack and settle into the house I will live in for two years. No one has been assigned to my community for nine months, and in the intervening time, an enormous colony of bats took up residence in the house. Fortunately I brought my mosquito net hammock along for site visit, because even if there was a bed in the house (there wasn't) I would have not been able to sleep inside because evidently I am allergic to batshit. Or possibly the spore that grows in batshit. Or possibly something else entirely that was in the house. I am not sure. In any event, during my site visit whenever I attempted to go into the house to clean and put stuff away my eyes would start to itch and then my throat tingled and I had some shortness of breath. After three days of multiple daily attempts to work on the house and get things sorted out I broke out in a really nasty rash and went to Accra for medical attention and to try and meet with my program director to sort things out.

In Accra I discussed my problem with my program director and the medical officer and it was decided that the first step is to try to have the community clean the house, the second step will be to try and find a different site in country. If no other suitable sites can be found, then the third step could be medical separation and my early return stateside. I hope that it does not come to this, but if it does then I hope that PC headquarters in Washington DC would be willing to work with me to come up with another assignment. This would mean...training all over again.

Still, as demoralizing as this experience was (and it was very demoralizing) I am committed to somehow making this work. Site change, country change--I guess we will cross these bridges if we come to them. I really hope I can stay here though. This country is great and after ten weeks here it is hard to imagine serving anywhere else.

I hope beyond hope that I get to site and have no problems. Site is small, remote, poor, and full of people whose lives I might be able to impact just a little bit. The house also has a large concrete rainwater catchment cistern that I can sleep on and that will make an amazing star-viewing platform. Even more amazing than this though is the enormous overstuffed chair upholstered with...you guessed it! Velveteen leopard print!

Today (18, August) is my 27th birthday and I intended to get to site today. Things here can sometimes take longer than expected though. I spent a couple days getting my bearings (and doing laundry) at a friend's site on Hohoe and I got to Nkwanta yesterday. I intended to make it to my site today but because it is not market day today, the bush taxi service is not running and I would have had to charter a car for more than ten times what it usually costs to get up there. So I am spending another day getting my stuff in order here. The moment of truth will come tomorrow when I walk in my front door and see if the clean-up efforts worked. Send good thoughts this way and hope that everything will work out for the best.

A final note: During Obama's visit to Ghana, we were taken to see his farewell address at the airport. We were in the front of the crowd and I shook Michelle Obama's hand. President Obama also gave a shout-out to Peace Corps three times during a 15 minute speech. Go us! The light was incredibly dramatic and I took some sweet photos, but it will take some time to get them online. Also, there was a secret service agent at the event whose moustache was remarkable. I would pay to see his moustache take on Daniel Day Lewis's "There Will Be Blood" moustache head on. I am not sure who I would back though; that would be a pretty even bout if ever there was an even bout in the world of moustache fighting.

PC sent me this letter a few days ago and suggested I distribute it to friends and family.

I looked around, and some other volunteers in my delegation had the brilliant notion to just post this letter online.

Imitation is the highest form of flattery. There is no way I would have come up with this solution on my own.

For your reading pleasure, here is the letter from PC.

******************************************

Dear Prospective Volunteer: Please give this letter to your family/friends and ask them to hold on to it for as long as you are in Ghana.

Dear Families,

Greetings from the Ghana Desk in Washington, D.C. It is with great pleasure that we welcome your family member to the 2009 Ghana training program. During the past year we have received many requests from Volunteers and family members alike regarding travel plans, sending money, relaying messages and mail, etc. As we are unable to involve ourselves in the personal arrangements of Volunteers, we would like to offer you advice and assistance in advance by providing specific examples of situations and how we suggest they be handled.

1. Irregular Communication. (Please see #3 for the mailing address to Peace Corps' office in Accra the capital of Ghana). The mail service in Ghana is not as efficient as the U.S. Postal Service. Thus, it is important to be patient. It can take from three to four weeks for mail coming from Ghana to arrive in the United States via the Ghanaian mail system. From a Volunteer's post, mail might take up to one to two months to reach the United States depending upon how far the Volunteer is from the capital city, Accra. Sometimes mail is hand carried to the States by a traveler and mailed through the U.S. postal system. This leg of the trip can take another several weeks as it is also dependent on the frequency of travelers to the U.S.

We suggest that in your first letters, you ask your Volunteer family member to give an estimate of how long it takes for him or her to receive your letters and then try to establish a predictable pattern of how often you will write to each other. Also try numbering your letters so that the Volunteer knows if he or she missed one. Postcards should be sent in envelopes--otherwise they may be found on the wall of the local post office.

Volunteers often enjoy telling their "war" stories when they write home. Letters might describe recent illnesses, lack of good food, isolation, etc. While the subject matter is often good reading material, it is often misinterpreted on the home front. Please do not assume that if your family member got sick that he or she has been unattended. The city of Accra has medical and dental facilities, and there is a Peace Corps Doctor and nurse there as well. Most Volunteers can reach Accra in less than one day's time. Many Volunteers also have access to a telephone (most have cell phones!) so that they can call our Medical Office. In the event of a serious illness the Volunteer is sent to Accra and is cared for by our Medical Unit. If the Volunteer requires medical care that is not available in Ghana, he/she will be medically evacuated to South Africa or the United States. Fortunately, such circumstances are very rare.

If for some reason your communication pattern is broken and you do not hear from your family member for at least one month, you should contact the Office of Special Services (OSS) at Peace Corps in Washington at 1-800-424-8580, extension 1470. The OSS will then call the Peace Corps Director in Ghana, and ask him to check up on the Volunteer. Also, in the case of an emergency at home (death in the family, sudden illness, etc.), please do not hesitate to call OSS immediately, so that the Volunteer can be informed in person by a member of Peace Corps/Ghana staff.

2. Telephone Calls. The telephone system in Ghana has reliable service to the United States. While few Volunteers have access to a telephone (land line) at their sites, more and more Volunteers are choosing to buy cell phones. Some sites have clear cell phone reception and others do not. In any case, most Volunteers have access to a phone (land line or cell) when they travel to a larger town within a few hours from their sites.

When dialing direct to Ghana from the U.S., dial 011 (the international access code) + 233 (the country code) + the number. Volunteers generally set up phone calls with people in the U.S. in advance, and have the distant party call them, which is much less expensive than calling the U.S. from Ghana. You may also choose to call your volunteer on their cellphone, if they decide to buy one in Ghana.

The Ghana Desk in Washington, D.C. usually calls the Peace Corps office in Accra at least once a week. However, these calls are reserved for business only and we cannot relay personal messages over the phone. If you have an urgent message regarding travel plans, etc., you can call the Desk, and the message will be relayed.

3. Sending Packages. Parents and Volunteers like to send and receive care packages through the mail. Every package mailed to the PC Accra P.O. box is opened by Ghana postal staff in the presence of a Peace Corps staff member to verify that the contents match what is listed on the (small green) declaration form. For example, it is therefore not appropriate to write "Religious material inside" if there are no religious materials inside.

You may want to send inexpensive items through the mail, but there is no guarantee that these items will arrive. We do not recommend, however, that costly items be sent through the mail. Even though most Volunteers eventually get local post office boxes, you may always use the following address to send letters and/or packages to your family member:

John Doe, PCV

Peace Corps

P.O. Box 5796

Accra-North, Ghana

West Africa

It is recommended that packages be sent in padded envelopes if possible, as boxes tend to be taxed more frequently. Packages can be sent via surface mail (2-3 weeks arrival time) or by ship (4-6 months). The difference in cost can be a factor in deciding which method to utilize. For lightweight but important items (e.g. airline tickets), DHL (an express mail service) does operate in Accra, but costs are very expensive. If you choose to send items through DHL, you must address the package to the Country Director, c/o Peace Corps, 26 West Cantonments, Switchback Lane, Accra, Ghana, West Africa. The telephone number for the Peace Corps office in Ghana is (233) 21-775-984, should DHL need this information. If you send the item to the Country Director, no liability can be assumed. For more information about DHL, please call their toll free number, 1-800-CALL-DHL, or visit their web site at www.dhl.com.

Sending airplane tickets and/or cash is not recommended. Certain airlines will allow you to buy a prepaid ticket in the States; they will telex their Accra office to have the ticket ready. Unfortunately, this system is not always reliable. Many airlines (eg., KLM, Air France, Sabena, Ghana Airways) fly into Accra, but each has its own policy on pre-paid tickets. Please call the airline of your choice for more information. You could also send tickets via DHL as mentioned previously. However, Peace Corps will assume no liability in the event of a lost/stolen airline ticket.

Trying to send cash or airline tickets is very risky and is discouraged. Volunteers are meant to live modestly and not accept any additional financial resources to support their service. If your Volunteer family member requests money from you, it is his/her responsibility to arrange receipt of it. Volunteers will also be aware of people visiting the States and can request that they call his/her family when they arrive in the States should airline tickets need to be sent back to Ghana.

We understand how frustrating it is to communicate with your family member overseas and we appreciate your using this information as a guideline. Please feel free to contact us at the Ghana Desk in Washington, DC, if you have further questions. Our phone number is (800) 424-8580, ext. 2326/2325, or locally at (202) 692-2326/2325.

Sincerely,

Jennifer Brown, Country Desk Officer

Evan Baker, Country Desk Assistant

I received my assignment on Saturday.

Ghana. Water, Sanitation and Health project.

Dates of Service: June 1 2009-August 31st 2011.

Excited. Sara and I had a predictably difficult conversation following opening the envelope. Plan now is to stay together, be there for each other, not let this transition cast too great a shadow over the future, and to ultimately keep the door open. She is my best friend. Nothing can change that. I will miss her terribly.

So the news is bittersweet. Bittersweet indeed. But I am so excited I can hardly keep a thought in my head.