A lesson in culture – Since the end of our Camp Crioula last year, a week long life skills girls camp, I have frequently run into the girls while in the city or during festivals. Sometimes they will call or stop by my house just to see how I am doing. It always feels nice to be remembered. Jessica Gomez at 14 years old was the youngest girl at our Camp Crioula last year. Yesterday she stopped by my house to catch up on all the latest news (not much). As we sat in the front room, we chatted over Maria cookies and sumo. As I began sweeping the cookie crumbs off the floor, I was reminded of something that happend during my first two months with my host family. One night after dinner, I was sweeping the floor and accidentally brushed over my 15 year old “brother’s” feet. He jumped up letting out a little squeel exclaiming something about never getting married. As I later found out, they say that if someone is to pass a broom over your feet while sweeping, you are doomed to never get married.

That brings us back to the present. As I am sweeping cookie crumbs off the floor, making sure not to go near her feet, I ask her about other Cape Verdean wive’s tales or superstitions. She didn’t quite understand my question so I gave her an example.

“What are traditional Cape Verdean beliefs, for example some people belief in witches and...”

She cut me off. “Witches, those are real. I see them at night. I have seen them fly over my house at night on brooms. They aren’t always people like in the movies, sometimes its just their spirit so you see a light floating above houses. They have alot in Cirrio.”(the town up the road)

I began to laugh thinking obviously she was being sarcastic. Sometimes when dealing with a different culture and in a different language, it is difficult to differentiate joking with lying with all out serious truth. I responded “Well you know the brain is very powerful. Sometimes if you really believe that you see something, you will. Not because it is really there, but because you want to see it. The mind is tricking you.”

My explanation didnt deter her one bit. “No I see them in the day sometimes. They will appear as strangers walking in the street. They will greet you and say “You are beautiful” or they will put their hand on your shoulder. If you do not return the compliment, they will curse you.”

I continued to try and enlighten her with a more western way of thinking, but it was of no avail. I should have known better though. This was not my first time trying to help save someone from needless fear due to outdated or misinformed notions. These other suspicions include: If you hold in gas rather than letting it out, it will cause permanent damage and pain when you are older. If you drink cold water while your body temperature is high (ie exercising, working in the sun), it is bad for your heart. If you wear a red bandana in the rain, lightening will hit you. If you are cooking with a hot pan and touch something cold like a refrigerator, it is bad for your health. If you walk on a cold floor barefoot you will get sick. If you are sweaty, you need to wait until your sweat dries before you take a bath or swim because you will get sick. It is bad luck/dangerous to get in water if you can see your reflection.

At a first glance, some of their suspicions seem ridiculous. Then you take a step back to examine our own cultural urban myths or childhood fears and it all seems a little less absurd. Say “Bloody Mary” into a mirror in a dark room and a lady will appear and kill you. There is a 9 foot tall hairy creature living in the forest named Bigfoot. If you step on a crack you will break your mother’s back. If you break a mirror, it is 9 years bad luck. If you eat Pop rocks and drink coca cola at the same time your stomach will explode. There are crocodiles living in sewers. I know for sure if I was an outsider visiting America, I had the hiccups and someone told me the obvious cure was to “bend over, take a gulp of water while upside down, hold my nose and swallow while still upside down” I would think American methods were (to quote myself) “outdated and misinfomed” too.

After 10 months of frustrations, complications and delays, the Youth Center of Riberia das Patas is finally open. Saturday, May 14, 2011 we inaugurated CADeRuS (Centro de Apoio e Desenvolvimento Rural Sustentavel) or Center for Support and Sustainable Rural Development. Since opening day, the center has been overflowing with children and students. The other day a young girl called over to me from the bookshelf. She was holding the children’s book “Clifford the Red Dog” in her hands. She began drawing her finger across the words on the page, slowly reading the English words and then translating them into Cape Verdean Crioulo. She intermittently looked up to me searching for reassuring approval. Seeing her interest and excitement warmed my heart and brought a smile to my face.

I would also like to introduce you to three important people in my town. Arlindo is 30 years old and the father of two children (Diego 9 and Daniela 4). He is a volunteer coach to a local women’s soccer team. Sandra is 27 years old and the mother of Tatiana 3. Sandra generally spends her days de-shelling beans and performing usual house chores. Gilda is 22 years old and has been raising her 3 year old son Kiki with her boyfriend of 6 years. While she dropped out of high school because of her teenage pregnancy, she has been in a constant fight to make up for that lost opportunity. For the past two years she has been searching for work and constantly enrolling in classes/ trainings to develop valuable and needed skills. Because of your generous donations, these three individuals have gained steady full time employment within the center, allowing them to better support their families.

I just wanted to thank everyone who donated to this project. Hundreds of youth fall into difficult situations every day simply as a result of having nothing better to do. These situations then lead to early pregnancy, drug/alcohol use and dropping out of school. This center which you have helped to create will provide a safe and healthy environment for youth to learn and to just have fun. It will promote creativity, individuality and positive lifestyles, thus leading to a process of self-discovery and hopefully development of future goals. I know you are all busy over there and I also know extra funds aren’t always exactly overflowing, so your support really does mean a lot to me. On behalf of myself and all those children and students in my community, thank you!

It is now February meaning I only have 7 more months in Cape Verde. The surreal feeling I initially had is starting to come back again. It is like I have been living in a different world for 2 years, and I am afraid that when I go back to America everything will just seem a distant dream. The language will be forgotten, the faces that I now see everyday will eventually fade away, and all those defining cultural aspects ( the food, the music, the small town personalities, the smells, the landscape) will be a blurred memory. More than ever, I see how life is just a long series of fleeting moments that we are continually trying but failing to grasp. I am trying my best to take mental snapshots of everything and everyone so that ten years from now, I will still be able to look back clearly on everything I saw and did.

I have begun having “America dreams” too. (Mostly involving buffets and holidays) I had a dream it was Christmas and all my friends and family were gathered around a table covered with a complete spread of American food. I had another dream at Golden Corral and yet another dream at a wedding where I was eating all of the hord d’ourves. Then I always wake up in a panic, unsure if I am lying in my comfortable bed in Virginia or if I am still on my bare mattress on the floor in Cape Verde. I am ready to leave, but not quite ready to let go.

I do still have some projects planned. We should be able to move forward with the youth center by the end of February. The completion of the center will provide a proper venue and thereby open the door to other projects: the painting of a world map mural, the development of a “mini-cinema” using a projector, a weekly art class for the kids to promote creative thinking, and a formação series in which I would invite important figures and organizations to come in and speak on important issues.

Your last few months of service is kind of like your last few months of Senior year, also called the “Senior slump”. I often must battle a lack of motivation not only on the part of community partners, but on my part as well. I only hope and pray that I will be able to overcome all the opposing obstacles so that I may best serve my community in the time I have left.

This past December, the girls from Camp Crioula (July 2010), joined together to create a service project in conjunction with World AIDS Day. Four girls from my town of Ribeira das Patas were involved in the planning process. I provided the concept and they provided the objectives, goals and plan of action. December 1st, we would hold an AIDS formacao in one of the smaller outlying towns of Ribeira da Patas. Those in attendance would then be able to take part in a clothing distribution. The last week in November, 13 former “Crioulas” went door to door in Ribeira das Patas explaining our project and collecting donations of clothing or food. The following day, we continued our campaign in Porto Novo. By the end of the weekend, we had collected 14 trash bags filled with clothing, blankets, accessories and food. The day of the event, we delivered our formacao to over 50 participants, covering important topics such as prevention, personal responsibility, and common myths. The session was closed with a distribution of condoms, informational pamphlets, commemorative pins and clothing.

After our initial formacao on World AIDS Day, we had so many additional goods that we were able to organize a second distribution. With support from our local camara, we were able to bring a particularly special gift to those living in Norte, a community often forgotten. Located on the dry and barren western side of the island, Norte is a remote community cut off from nearly all basic commodities. Along with five other girls and our Camara sponsored driver, we traversed dirt roads for over 2 hours making our way through goat farms, ribeiras, and abandoned homes. We would stop wherever we found people, even briefly pausing in the middle of the road to distribute items to the men and women tirelessly working alongside the road. Being so close to Christmas, we also handed out hand written messages of encouragement and holiday cheer to every recipient.

I count this project successful not only because of the amount of people we were able to help, but also because of where the help was coming from. The girls who organized and implemented the entire project were all part of our Camp Crioula last July. They came into our camp as high school students, we taught them the best we could and sent them back out on their own to hopefully lead responsible and meaningful lives. Seeing these young women, 5 months later, take a stand as leaders and being examples to their communities truly made me proud. One woman in Norte had commented that this gift is especially meaningful because the help and donations had come 100% from Cape Verde rather than “just another foreign assistance program.” For many, this was proof that reliance on official institutions, whether foreign or national, is not the only vehicle for progress. With only a little effort and generosity, anyone can be a catalyst of change.

Everything is going well here although it is not without difficulty. It is strange how some things are similar while other things are so drastically different. Life here is slow and simple. Everyone lives from day to day. They don’t really think about the future, because their opportunities are limited and consequently any dreams or aspirations are irrelevant. Imagine; two aspects which are engrained into the very base of American culture, not even acknowledged here. This whole mentality has become so conventional that families have just learned to accept it rather than try to change it. Think of your own childhood growing up; we were raised in an environment abundant in positive messages of “You can achieve anything” and “I believe in you.” As we entered into our adult lives, we encountered inspiring leaders and role models who would help to shape and influence our lives. Cape Verdean culture lacks those positive reinforcements in the community and even within the household. Mothers and fathers lack the very guidance needed to lead their own children, and consequently that vital foundation is never established. All these things make it difficult to develop small business or even projects, when they are afraid of risk and change. They are accustomed to the simple and humdrum daily schedule of “wake up, cook, clean the house, harvest crops, wash clothes, cook more, watch tv…” And they are content, so why would they ever need to save money? Why create a farmer’s market? Why should they help in a clothing drive? Why should they attend a micro-credit information session? This is the kind of mentality I am up against every day. I have broken down into tears from stress, I have unjustly taken my frustration out on one Cape Verdean friend causing him to bare the load of an entire culture, I have questioned why I am even here when it seems no one wants change….but that is why I’m here isn’t it?

The other day I was speaking to a friend who had been the president of a youth association. He expressed his disappointments of failed projects and initiatives. After sharing our difficulties we determined this is our challenge. If we do not withstand the frustrations in the name of positive change and advancement, who will? This is our job, to inspire, motivate and create hope in the possibility that even one leader might emerge and take a stand. In the instances where we lack small businesses to develop, and we lack interested youth to mobilize; it is not so much our duty to develop those various projects and businesses, as it is to develop the people so that one day they might be able to be the leaders of change...not us. Where they lack role models and positive reinforcement, that is where we come in to inspire and give them the confidence they need to believe in themselves and take action.

Of course there are two ways to look at every situation. As I said, Cape Verdean life is slow and simple. Everyone lives day to day. There are no plans so every day is a long string of random and sometimes spontaneous events. If you see a random car driving by, you jump in and join them regardless of where they are going or when they are coming back. If you see an irrigation tank, green with algae and frogs swimming around, you dive in and take a bath. ( That way you are saving water.)If you are walking alone and some stranger standing on their patio invites you in for coffee, you say yes and make a new friend. One thing I love about this culture is their warmth, hospitality and selfless generosity. Cape Verde may be a poor country, but it does not stop them from giving away what little they have. Going on hikes, it is impossible to walk 20 minutes without being asked to “txiga” or “enter”. You enter their homes, make small talk , they entertain you with biscuits and kool-aid, and before leaving they hand you a bag full of fresh mangos, green peppers, squash, or whatever else happens to be growing at the moment. A stranger has become a friend. Simple as that. Even in the streets, everyone greets everyone. It is such a contrast to American culture and how we actively TRY to avoid eye contact when we pass someone else on the street. We were raised by being told “don’t talk to strangers” and I guess that message kind of stuck for the rest of our lives. I have lived next to my neighbors for 11 years and the only thing I know about them is their last name. I understand that entering a stranger’s house alone, is a different situation in America. Communities are much larger and perhaps less safe, so entering a unfamiliar man’s house for “coffee” (notice the quotation marks) may not be the smartest thing to do… but when was the last time you extended a friendly invitation for kool-aid and biscuits? When was the last time you offered hospitality to that mystery neighbor? For me, sadly I have to say that I never have. In Virginia I would see the same faces everyday in my neighborhood, and it was always the same: avoid eye contact and continue on my way. One thing I will take back to America with me, is the Cape Verdean warmth and hospitality.”

Frustrations:

1. English class in Ribeira das Patas – My counterpart/ “boss” does not tell me that he stopped paying the electric bill for 3 months, so I show up to class with all my students to find we have no classroom to use. After two missed classes, we find another room to use. After one class, the ministry of education decide they want to demolish that building to the ground, so again no class room to use, and again no communication to me and my students.

2. English class in Cirrio – I arrive for the first day of class to find out the coordinators never communicated what day and where we are starting class so no one is there. Day 2, we try again and this time there is no chalkboard.

3. Clothing drive – I plan a clothing collection and distribution project with the girls of Camp Crioula 2010. They planned all the details, I just helped in implementing the project. We decide on all the details, post signs, and the day of the collection, all girls back out saying they have previous engagements (watching soap operas, braiding hair, etc….)

4. Clothing drive- We collected clothing door to door in both Ribeira das Patas and the larger city of Porto Novo. Sunday night I called the girls to confirm a pickup for the next morning. Monday, I went to Porto Novo to pick up the clothing. All the clothing was in different houses and half of the girls were not home when we had arranged for the pickup.

5. World AIDS Day – I approached our local medical staff to plan a big community event. He said he did not have the authority and that I would have to plan a meeting with the head Delegado of Health in Porto Novo. After 3 weeks of planning and expensive taxi rides, I find out that same local nurse had planned a World AIDS Day event in the same venue for the same day for the same time.

6. Youth Center – My community partners have known about this project for 3 months, and I went to them today to reconfirm that repairs were being made to the facility. They respond saying “Oh, the elementary school is having class there for a month because there school is being demolished. They said it will be “only a month”. Problem being “only a month” in Cape Verdean terms can mean anywhere from 3 months to never.

7. Youth Center – Other community partner said they could provide 17 chairs and 10 tables. Now that I have done my part and the money has been raised, they said those materials are being occupied.

8. Book Acquisition – So I have two contracts with organizations in the US and in France, both which have agreed to donate a total of 2,000 books. Those contracts need to be approved by the head of the high school. Problem – this director decides to take a month long vacation in the middle of the school year. How does the head of the school decide to up and leave in the middle of school?

I had been to a wedding in Cape Verde once before, however what was intended to be a week of joyous celebration was overshadowed by a death in the family. All dancing, singing and related festivities were prohibited out of respect for the deceased. This wedding and small reception was thereby cast with an air of gloom and distress as guests would interchange from funeral to wedding.

Attending a funeral remains to this point one of the most shocking and unique experience I have had in Cape Verde. When there is a death in the family, the body of the deceased is kept within the household for 24 hours during which family and friends are permitted to come and pay their last respects. I remember clearly walking into my neighbor’s house, overflowing with sympathetic and grieving loved ones who had come from near and far to mourn their loss. It is by no means a quiet and conservative process. Masses of women dressed in black scream, yell, chant, beat their fists into the air and in their almost hypnosis of anguish, lose consciousness as others rush to their assistance. Entering the home, I could not help but feel less than at ease, unsure of how to act. As I turned the corner, entering into the empty room were the deceased had been lain, the suppressing air was surprisingly alleviated. The father of my friend lay in his coffin, a lace cloth draped over his face and his hands embracing the wooden cross of the rosary lightly placed around his neck, his coffin surrounded by glowing candles. As I stood in that room alone peering over who was practically a stranger, hearing those unforgettable wails of sorrow from outside, I was overcome by a different feeling. I had always expected being in the presence of death would be morbid and disconcerting, however in contrast, the moment was marked by a sense of peace. This man had seen things I may never see and experienced things I may never experience. He lived and died in a world completely different from my own, one which had remained entirely separate until now.

This week I experienced another wedding, this time quite different from the first. After being in a committed relationship for almost 15 years, Ivanira and George decided to legalize their union with marriage. The wedding celebration began on Sunday with the “Festa de Lenha”. The whole community gathered together in a procession toward the couple’s house baring bundles of firewood on our heads. The older women carried immense quantities of thick firewood balancing them above their heads, while in the same manner, the children (and me) carried smaller bundles of twigs and sticks above our heads. We marched down to the home of George and Ivanira waving colorful banners, balancing our gifts, and singing the festive “Musica de Bencao” or the blessing song in which a verse is sung to bless close friends and members of family, after which we respond with “oh la le le le, oh la le le le”. ( When I heard my name during this blessing song, a feeling of warmth came over me as I was overcome with gratitude and a sense of acceptance)The whole event was a festive display of music and colors as we sang along with men strumming their ukuleles and banners danced through the air. Thursday was the “Festa de Trocha”, again family, friends and community members marched through the street carrying gifts of food: bundles of green bananas, baskets of bread, kilos of potatoes and yams. These offerings of wood and provisions, are meant as contributions to help during the wedding reception. Friday was the “Festa de Presente”. One last time, we gathered together, paraded through the street singing and displaying our banners until we reached their home where we presented the couple with our wedding gifts. Following the procession was a reception at the mother of the groom’s house, Mae Clarinha. While she has twelve children of her own, as her nickname suggests, she is sort of a mother to the whole community. She is a constant display of hospitality, warmth and friendship to everyone who passes through.

Despite dancing all night, everyone woke up early and by 7am the women were gathering together on their verandas to begin painting their nails and preparing their elaborate hairdos. The traditional Catholic ceremony began around 10:30 and lasted about three hours. During the closing procession, the “companhas” or wedding party, form an archway of arms for the bride and groom to exit. I was a companha however I am an American as well, so I was unaware of this custom and quietly slipped out of the chapel early to take pictures of Ivanira and George as they exited. As I was taking pictures of rice flying through the air and people applauding the newly wed couple descending the staircase, my “par”, Kode was frantically searching for me since I was his other set of arms to create the archway. He was a little upset with me for making him miss the archway procession at his sister’s wedding, but he quickly forgot about it as the reception began. The wedding party piled into a caravan of hiaces which then filled the streets honking and creating a commotion to celebrate the couple’s new love. Upon returning, the bride and groom were kidnapped (another tradition) and taken to an undisclosed location during which guests ate their fill of feijaoda and goat stew. Eventually the couple was safely returned, and despite continual rain and blackouts our elation held strong as we continued dancing through the night.

I have climbed the “wall” of a mountain enclosing Ribeira Das Patas about 5 times now, but I have been told about another hiking path located in a different zone which leads to the same summit in Bordeira. With my one day free from classes, I decided I could afford the time to get lost and re-find my way, something inevitable to occur. After finding the faint footpath in Cirrio, I began my climb accompanied by our unofficially adopted dog Karreka.

I have explained the thrill and exhilaration you experience when climbing a mountain alone. After ascending the first kilometers or so, all sounds and distractions soon disappear. There is nothing but you, the path, and in my case a little beige dog. It is an opportunity to break away from small village gossip, from the smell of burning plastic and trash, from the students hissing….it is an opportunity to be alone and escape the “fishbowl” effect, the concept that as an American you are the little “fish” in an equally little bowl and everything you do or say is being closely watched and equally scrutinized. I love meeting new people and continually being surrounded by friends, however sometimes you just need some time to yourself to think and reflect.

This was exactly what I was doing when I looked around, realized I had reached the top of the mountain and was now lost. During my daydreaming state, I had ascended to an elevation of 1660 (I have a Santo Antao map, so yes that is accurate information), and directly into a massive cloud. Looking around you could probably see nothing more than 10 feet in front of you. I had no idea how close or far I was from the mountain’s edge, I had no idea if I had passed the trail I needed to descend, and I could not see if there were any houses nearby to ask for help. When you summit the mountain to Bordeira, it is as if you have entered a new world. Everything is relatively flat in comparison to what I am used to in Ribeira Das Patas and it is virtually uninhabited. So here I am, on an unfamiliar part of the island, stuck in the middle of an impenetrable fog blanketing everything in eye sight. What to do….I began to descend the way I had come and luckily within 10 minutes I ran into a group of tourists attempting to do the same hike. I ran up to them explaining in Criolu how I thought I knew where I was going and what I was doing, but had been incredibly wrong and was now lost. The tourist guide replied to me in English, inviting me to join their group for lunch after which he would point me in the right direction.

If I had continued about 20 more feet from where I had stopped, I would have run into a small farm house belonging to a Cape Verdean family who frequently opens up their home to tourists for a place to rest. We set down our belongings and enjoyed goat cheese, fresh vegetables and feijao verde, after which we sipped on a hot cup of coffee with fresh milk, still warm from the goat it had just been milked from. The group of 5 tourists were from Germany, but were able to speak English, Portuguese, as well as understand some Kriolu, so sitting around the table, the conversation alternated between 4 languages.

I have lived in Cape Verde for 9 months and I will admit some days I wake up and just want to stay in the house, but there are other days when I look out on my surroundings and everything just seems new again. Today was one of those days, leaving me now refreshed and rejuvenated. It makes me question how I was so impartial to taking advantage of learning opportunities in the past. It is easy to get lost in the typical American life, living day to day, working enough just to get by, and unknowingly missing a chance to learn and live. America is characterized by a blend of cultures and influences, thereby also rich in resources and knowledge. There is no reason I cannot live my life there with the same sense of liberation and curiosity which I have developed here. It is a little unsettling to now realize that it took 9 months of living in a country virtually void of ethnic diversity, to realize how blessed I was in America to be surrounded by a plethora of people rich in differing cultures, beliefs and life experiences. Everyone is an individual. Everyone has a unique story. Sometimes it is worth it to just shut up and listen.

I just realized I had never posted this. It was from March of last year:

March 17, 2010, my day as a Cape Verdean hitchhiker. I headed toward the Ribeiras for some hiking, and ran into our local fisherman doing his daily rounds of selling fish. He asked me if I wanted to accompany him today and help him sell some Cavala, Mackeral. Not quite sure if he was joking or serious, but I was in one of my frequent spontaneous moods, so I said of course. Still not knowing his name, I hopped in his red Toyota truck and we went on our way. I know what your thinking, she is naïve and careless not only by getting into a car with a stranger but having no idea where we would be going and what time we would be coming back. Naïve and careless….maybe. Fun and adventurous….absolutely. After all, life is meant for living, you either chose to live your life, or sit back and watch everyone else live theirs.

For six hours, Chida and I made our way from R. Das Patas, to Ribeira da Cruz, to Chã de Norte, to Balona, and toward Tarafal, honking the horn and yelling out the window “Mais melhor cavala na mundo”, “Best Mackeral in the world”. Throughout the day we picked up random hitchhikers, workers and professors in search of a buleia. We ate fresh bananas as we cruised through the mountains and ribeiras. I say cruise, but it was much more comparable to a hydraulic roller coaster ride, stalling, puttering, chugging as we struggled up and down nearly vertical mountain sides. The dry dirt paths and terribly uneven cobblestone roads cause your neck and head to constantly jerk in all different directions in synchronization with every movement of the truck. At one point I glanced at my reflection in the side view mirror and could not help but mark my striking resemblance to a bobble head. In Balonia, a small very rural town of about 5 houses, we stopped for lunch. Chida handed me a metal plate of rice and chorizo… a typical Cape Verdean dish complete with a few ants that had crawled in there. After awhile you begin to get used to the flies landing on your food and learn to eat around the bugs that crawl in. Of course there is always the occasion that you push the ants/flies to the side of the plate, but you forget about it and when you have finished your meal you realize your plate is completely empty, oops, good for protein right? Before we left they handed us a papaya which I sliced open during the car ride with a fish gutting knife. With it being Brumseka, the driest and dustiest time of the year, the papaya was immediately covered in dust and dirt carried by the unrelenting hot wind. Again, you learn to ignore the dust and eat it anyway.

After circling the Southwestern part of the island, Chida had to return to the city of Porto Novo, so I made my way back towards Cha de Morte via two other random buleias.

Over the past 30 years, Cape Verde has progressed rapidly in areas of development and improvement. New technology and skills have helped the nation to become more self sufficient and less reliant on outside assistance. While this holds true for the larger capital cities, the more rural zones are gradually being left behind. Without resources and access to current information, it is nearly impossible for those living in these areas to compete for jobs or even a higher education. In order for more rural zones like this community to keep up with larger developing areas of Cape Verde, it has become necessary for community members, in particular youth, to develop a sense of self sufficiency.

With assistance from the Peace Corps Partnership Program, the planned Multipurpose Youth Center will provide the community with valuable learning resources such as computers, the internet, up to date books, and learning materials such as flashcards and maps. Additionally, the center will serve as a venue for volunteer community members to come in and hold information sessions on topics ranging from life skills to AIDS awareness to community service. These new skills and knowledge will significantly increase the chances of youth finding future employment. In addition, their exposure to new ideas and information will open their minds to thinking creatively, critically and independently.

Objectives for the Youth Center are as follows:

1. Helping youth and community members to develop the skills and abilities necessary for entrance into the job market via: a. Information sessions, trainings and workshops b. Various IT, Business Development, language and life skills courses c. Providing access to current information via the media, internet and up to date books

2. Providing a safe and welcoming environment for leisure activities

3. Developing a taste for creativity, independent thinking and self-discovery

4. Create jobs for 3 community members to oversee the center

5. Ensure sustainability by: a. Hiring three community members to oversee the activities of the center b. Working with various local organizations throughout the planning and implementation process c. Obtaining several local sponsors and donors

Please donate to this effort. Everything counts and everything is tax deductible. Search Peace Corps donors and search under last name "Kern" or follow the link below.

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=655-023

The following entry was an article I had written for the recent Women in Development newsletter.

In keeping with tradition of Cape Verde PCVs in recent years, volunteers from Santo Antao decided to address the issue of Women and HIV/AIDS by conducting a weeklong behavior change camp. Camp Crioula, an adaptation of Peace Corp’s Camp Glow, is designed to provide young women with the information and life skills necessary to live a healthy and positive life.

An aspect that was critical to the success of the camp was holding a Training of Trainers (TOT) seminar. After identifying nine highly motivated community partners, we held a four day training course in order to instill AIDS awareness, behavior change models as well as valuable facilitation skills and strategies. Utilizing the Portuguese version of the Life Skills Manual, we provided the women with both the necessary information and strategies to lead their sessions, but we granted them the freedom to organize and deliver their lesson as they saw fit.

The original goal was directed towards building capacity with the girls in the community, however I underestimated the impact this camp would have on other participants as well. Many of the ladies we had asked to speak were experienced professionals and public speakers, however for others, this was their very first experience in handling such a role. After the close of that week, I had a woman who had been a first time formadore (speaker), approach me expressing her sincere gratitude and appreciation. “This was such a wonderful experience for all of us. This is something I wish I had been exposed to as a girl, as young females we lack this type of guidance and empowerment. I learned things about HIV/AIDS that I had never learned in school, and I learned things about myself and what I am capable of, things that I would not have seen had you not asked me to help with this camp.” Camp Crioula 2010 was a large success. The young girls gained skills in decision making, self esteem, and leadership, and the women gained something just as valuable…self-discovery.

Sao Vicente holds the internationally known Baia music festival, the uninhabited Santo Luzia has…well nothing aside from maybe a few octopi and eel, Sao Nicolou is home to Cape Verde’s most traditional carnival celebration, Sal has the plethora of filet mignon and real hamburgers which we all sorely miss, and Boa Vista boasts the most beautiful and immaculate beaches in the country. That leaves one island in the Barlavento, Santo Antao. What is our claim to fame aside from our queijo de terra and grogue? The festival Sao Jao.

The festivities officially began Tuesday night on June 22. Joining my next door neighbors, I served as their doll as they played “dress up” with me. Within 15 minutes I was transformed from an American wearing hoop earrings, a JMU tshirt, and yoga pants, into a real Cape Verdean. Courtesy of the grandma living next door, I was now adorned in her lensu, long black pleated skirt, and white button up blouse complete with shoulder pads. We joined the rest of Ribeira das Patas which were quickly flowing into hiaces to head down to Porto Novo for the Chola de Sao Joao competition.

After a quick pep talk to fill us with the exuberance and energy which would be needed to win this competition, we grabbed our sugar cane and banana trees and began our march into the town square. Among shouts and applause from the crowds lining the streets, we processed into the town square where we gave our hearts into dancing, singing, shouting, and propelling our banana trees into the air. It was at this moment I had my first lesson in Choladera, that strange pelvis bumping dance we were introduced to during PST. As I danced around with my sugar cane men, women, and children began to prance up to me thrusting their pelvises into mine in time with the music. After a moment’s awkwardness and slight apprehension, hesitancy disappeared and I began thrusting right back.

The 10 whole minutes we spent in that town square will always be one of my favorite memories in Cape Verde. Yes we were dancing and singing, an almost daily activity here, yet this moment stood apart from others because we were united as one. We put our hearts and souls into performing because we were representing Ribeira das Patas, past and present. As we wore the clothes, carried the pilaos, and danced the choladera, I am certain putting on a winning performance was on the minds of many, but for more, the performance was a tribute to ancestors and Cape Verdean culture. I am so grateful that they allowed me to share in this special tradition.

Although we did not win the competition that night, our enthusiasm and vigor failed to diminish. The next morning we woke up at 6 am refreshed and ready. We joined together again as one, as we accompanied the statue of Saint John the Baptist, 20 km on foot to the small chapel in Porto Novo.

Although I will purposefully emit some of the more unsettling details for those faint at heart, I find it obligatory to briefly mention my completion of a principal rite of passage into African culture, the preparation of a meal. I am not talking about buying some Perdue chicken at the store, throwing it into a pan of hot oil, adding some BBQ sauce and calling it dinner, I am talking about really preparing a meal from start to finish.

Thomas, a volunteer from the other side of my island, and Andrew, a volunteer visiting from the “Volcano Island “of Fogo, dropped into Ribeira Das Patas to pay Kate and myself a visit. With slim pickings of things to do,(hiking, swimming in the irrigation tanks, sitting in the road, or cooking), we opted for the last option. A discussion of strange foods we have tried in Cape Verde including Turtle and goat feet, led us to the topic of Pigeon. As you scan across the roofs of houses in Santo Antao, it is not uncommon to find an abundance of pigeons making roof tops their homes. However, this is not like in New York or DC where there are swarms of unwanted pigeons perching on statues and terraces, contributing nothing but feces, usually on important landmarks or on unsuspecting pedestrian. These “Cape Verdean” pigeons are sheltered, bred and fed for a reason, to be food. Sooo… It did not take long for us to figure out what we would be making for dinner.

We walked down to a neighbor’s house where he hand picked three plump pigeons for us (Kate is a vegetarian). Holding them by the wings so they would not make an escape, we carried them back to my house. After saying our sincerest apologies and farewells, we bid them adieu and went to work. Andrew was experienced in the art of killing a pigeon, so he went first to demonstrate, followed by Thomas…then it was my turn. I thought I would be able to carry out the act, no problem. If I can eat the thing, then I should be able to kill it as well. I put up a good fight for half an hour explaining why I couldn’t do it. One of the boys could kill it and no one would ever know. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t let my back out. With encouraging words for reinforcement and with some help from Thomas, I did it.

Let me tell you, the process of murdering and preparing a pigeon is nothing like the process of gutting a fish (which I also learned here from my host family). It is messy, unsettling and unpleasant in every sense of the word….however, I am glad I did it. Now, I have no doubt in my mind that I will never be a surgeon, but I did learn a little bit about the anatomy of a pigeon. We decided to go Native American and abide by the concept of “waste not”. …you can ask Thomas or Andrew how the heart…I mean stomach tastes, but I am pretty sure they would not recommend it to anyone.

Rite of Passage # 1: Riding a donkey…..Check.

Rite of Passage # 2: Hiking 20 Km to Porto Novo at 5 am…Check.

Rite of Passage #3, Killing and preparing your own dinner…..Check.

"The happiness that is genuinely satisfying is accompanied by the fullest exercise of our faculties and the fullest realization of the world in which we live." - Bertrand Russell

Cape Verde has surpassed many others to earn the title as world’s second largest and greatest Carnivale, only after Brazil. The past few days I was able to experience first hand the amusement and waywardness that characterize Carnivale Cape Verde. The festival is a wild and vivacious celebration of music, costume and culture, leading up to Tuesday’s Festa de Mardi Gras. For the much awaited event, I travelled to Sao Vicente’s primary city, MIndelo, where I stayed with fellow Peace Corps volunteers. In anticipation of the upcoming 48 hours of nonstop adrenaline and little sleep, we began the festivities with a tame mid day trip to the beach. Enjoying perfect weather and basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays.

We returned to my friend’s house where we watched the sunset over the harbor from her balcony. As the sky turned from a pale blue to a brilliant orange, to deep red and finally to black, we witnessed the sounds and sights of a new world emerge. Night one. We assembled our costumes and joined in the revelry below. At 11:30 pm, crowds lined the streets, sitting on shoulders, perched on roof tops cheering as performers and dancers passed by in a night parade. After finding a buleia, free ride, to the other side of town, we used our American skills of persuasion, or maybe it would be more accurate to say female skills of persuasion, to gain admittance to the sold out party Fike, an abandoned warehouse turned disco, where we danced until sunrise.

Day two. We put together our stereotypical Carnivale costumes of brightly colored feather boas, elaborate masks, fish net gloves and glitter embellished tutus. Noon we made our way through the crowded streets to Mindelo’s central Praça. We quickly merged in with the vast throng of onlookers, eagerly waiting for the procession to begin. As the rhythmic melody of beating drums swept over the town, the parade took to the streets. How do I begin to explain Carnivale? A spectacle of vibrant colors, masses of feathers, shimmering glitter catching and reflecting back the rays of the sun, vivid lights, enigmatic characters concealed by masks and themed costumes, elaborate floats, costumed performers and entertainers. Carnival is a hybrid of Halloween and New Orlean’s Mardi Gras where the eccentric is normal and where the normal is nothing more than lackluster. 10 pastels, 5 bottles of water, 4 energy drinks, 4 meat shishkabob things, some shoarmas, a few other drinks, a stranger’s birthday cake and 48 hours later, Carnivale 2010 came to a close. So who is ready to visit next year?

Christmas is not a time nor a season, but a state of mind. To cherish peace and goodwill, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas.” - Calvin Coolidge

This marks the first time I have officially spent the holiday season apart from family. So how was it? Well, different. My roommate flew to the island of Santiago to spend the two weeks of Christmas and New Years with other PC volunteers. I opted to remain with my community in Ribeira Das Patas. I am here only for two years, so in that limited time I want to do my best to experience all I can and learn all I can. The festivities began with a Christmas program at the church featuring the children’s choir and a reenactment of the nativity scene. As I sat alongside Cape Verdeans watching the shepherds walk their live goats down the isle, I couldn’t help but think it odd that we were all munching on popcorn during the birth of Jesus. Between the angels singing and the wise men bestowing their gifts to Maria and Jose (Mary and Joseph), all you could hear was the “chomp smack chomp” of popcorn being consumed. A few days later was the Festa di Velha, an annual festival honoring grandparents and elders of the community. I assisted in hosting the event by preparing food and dancing funana with the grandpas of Ribeira Das Patas.

Christmas day was strange for me. Up until this year, I was accustomed to a particular schedule of events; waking up to festive Christmas songs blasting as the sweet aroma of coffee brewing and blueberry muffins baking permeate the house. After rolling out of bed I would run down the flight of stairs to open presents with my family. This year, I woke up in an empty house to the usual roosters calling outside my window. With no real plans for the day, I went for a walk in the 87 degree weather wearing shorts and a tank top. Some friends later invited me over to spend Christmas dinner with their family. As I watched them unwrap their gifts of plastic toys and imitation perfume, we dined on bread, fresh goat cheese and hot tea. It was definitely an experience opening my eyes to the things I take for granted and to how fortunate I am in this life to be blessed with good friends and a strong loving family. Being here, I have watched sons and daughters being torn among multiple households, traveling long distances to spend the holiday with a mother in one town and a father in another. While the love supporting each divided family here is equally as strong as my own or any other family for that matter, I am thankful everyday that I will always have a family to believe in me, a father to coach me in strength and fortitude, a mother to guide me in spirituality, patience and faith, a sister to inspire me in the ways of life and love, and irreplaceable friends who I can always rely on to be my foundation.

New Years Eve was spent at the two day festival Pomba Branka. Again, quite a different experience. The festival did not start until 12:30, so as I am sitting in my house waiting to hear the music (my que that the party has begun), I stare at the clock on my computer and count down in my head 4…where is the shiny silver ball dropping? 3…where are the raised glasses of champagne toasting?, 2…where are the couples in eager anticipation already embracing? 1… Happy New Year!...silence. The party started half an hour later on the open roof of the local camara. We welcomed the new year with dancing, food and champagne.

These two weeks were marked by the forging of new relationships. Every day, a new family would welcome me into their home for dinner, a new menina would run up and hold my hand, or a new person would greet me by name. Acquaintances became friends and friends became family. Wanting to show my gratitude for the generous hospitality they have shown me, I invited some neighbors over for a three course American dinner, after which we cleared the room, put on music and began our own holiday festa. Although I spent the holiday season away from the familiar comforts of family and American tradition, my decision to stay here granted me a new kind of warmth and friendship, perhaps one which may have taken longer to develop had I left. I am no longer a blip in their lives as another American passing through, I am accepted as one of them, as family.

December 13, 2009

In contrast to the typically slow and relaxed pace of life in a small island community, which I have become quite accustomed to, the past day was filled with spontaneity. I woke up to find our faucets dry and toilets not flushing, our tank was dry. The camara was unable to refill our tank until the next morning, so I was forced into becoming a real Cape Verdean for the day and walking down to the community chefarise to fill up jugs of water. Typically the women carry everything above their heads, a balancing act with buckets of fresh fish, a crate of mangoes, or in this case a 5 gallon jug of water. I cannot even balance an empty cup on my head, there was no way I was going to risk breaking my neck in an attempt to try this feat so I opted for the more difficult American way. Using my two hands, I grabbed the buckets and began walking back, losing almost half of the water as it splashed onto the cobblestones below.

Around mid day I was doing my routine passia, walking around and socializing, when I saw some local boys heading down to the tanki with soap, shampoo and dirty laundry in hand. I thought what a great idea, after all I do need to take a bath and given our current water situation, why not? So I headed down to the tanki with my bathing suit, shampoo and 50 CVE rose scented bar of soap. The floor of the tanki was quite grimy and equally slimy, there were dead dragonflies, beetles and grasshoppers floating on the surface of the water and everytime a boy would do a backflip into the tanki, the exoskeletons would drift in my direction. Despite the deceased insects and slime, I don’t think I have ever felt so clean in the past 5 months. Strange but true, maybe the algae growth is good for the skin?

Upon returning, my host family living in Santiago surprised me with not one, but three phone calls each from a different family member. First my 15 year old brother Patrick called asking when he would see me again, after which my 17 year old sister Stefanie called to ask about my new home in Santo Antao, and lastly my 21 year old brother Sony called to let me know my Kriolu was better and he could actually almost understand me now.

Kate and I received a formal invitation to attend a private presentation at Babylonia restaurant in Lagedos for later that day. As guests arrived, a musical group from Mindelo serenaded us with morna. Distinguished guests mingled and dined on a sampling of Cape Verdean Cuisine while sipping on refined wine brought over from Fogo, a delectable relief from the two dollar table wine I have been accustomed to. It was intriguing to speak with such a variety of accomplished and skilled individuals. During the presentation I was seated next to a gentleman from France. He introduced himself to me in Portuguese, after which we conversed in English, and upon my mentioning of my Filipino heritage he began speaking in Tagalog. I came to find out he was fluent in French, Portuguese, English, Spanish, Italian and Tagalog. I was in the company of Cape Verdean musicians, British artists, French scholars, Portuguese international activists, and multilingual travelers. Style and panache clearly permeated the room. Here we were, individuals coming from all different backgrounds and parts of the world, exchanging thoughts and ideas while overlooking the vast fields of sugar cane as the sun set in the distance.

As night descended and we parted ways, I was quickly brought back to the reality of my status as Peace Corps volunteer in Africa. As I climbed into the back of the jeep, livestock climbed in after me to be taken back to Ribeira Das Patas. After holding two baby goats in my lap for the duration of the car ride, we returned just in time for Cha Da Morte to commence their usual Saturday night festa above the mercearia. From swimming in a tanki, to sipping expensive wine with intellectuals, to drinking ponche on a rooftop while dancing to zouk… today was an exception to the usual tranquil predictability of a typical day living in Ribeira Das Patas.

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years. - Abraham Lincoln

Part of Cape Verdean culture is the celebration of Catholic saint days. Each zone has a designated saint for which they hold a festival once every year with activities ranging from attending Catholic mass to the sharing of good food, music and dancing. On my island of Santo Antao, the season for festas has officially begun with the 3 day Festa di Santo Andre taking place in Ribeira Da Cruz. Saturday, I decided to hitch a ride with some of my friends. The first suitable mode of transportation we saw pass by, a white cargo truck with an empty bed, we waved down and all piled in, 22 in all. Everyone crowded into the vehicle as I reserved my spot at the front, clinging onto the grid like metal “headboard” of the truck bed. We took off. Peering over the roof of the truck, with the wind blowing wildly through my hair, I paused to take a moment and breath in the fresh air, take in the moment, and observe the spectacular view as we drove through the mountains and down toward the shore.

Upon arrival we made a quick stop at the local mercearia for snacks, pastels (fried bread filled with fish) and fried moella (eel). We then made our way toward the ribeiras to watch the horse races. They wanted to sit on a ledge of rocks midway up the ribeira wall, an optimal view of the race below. However, doubting my ability to climb they said maybe we should sit with everyone else at the top of the ribeira. Of course Im not going to let them think I was incapable of doing anything they could do, so I threw my flip flops on the floor and started climbing barefoot. They followed and we situated ourselves on the ledge of rocks on the ribeira wall. The race commenced and everyone began making bets and wagers as to who would win. I respectfully declined to any gambling knowing my bad luck. Finally I agreed to participate in one round. As the 3 horses of the next race pranced by to the starting line, we all carefully watched making our guesses as to which would win. I said any horse other than number 2, that one looked skinny and weak….well apparently skinny and weak was actually lean and agile. Horse number 2 won.

We crammed back into the same cargo truck on the way back to Ribeira Das Patas. This time the sun was quickly setting so as the sky was decorated with luminous stars and a full moon, the warmth of the sun’s rays were replaced by a cold night wind. Sitting on the rusted floor of a cargo bed does not provide much protection from the elements so any intrusion of personal space was welcome. The guys gave up their masculine complex for the 20 minute car ride to huddle a little closer for warmth. I thought it was funny. I took a picture.

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

“Man's mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions.” ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

Updates:

1.) The Dengue Fever epidemic has begun to stabilize in Cape Verde. Since October 1, there have been over 12,000 cases of the malaria like illness, with 900 reported daily. It has since then dropped to 600 cases daily. November 6 was declared by the Red Cross as a National Day of Service to Combat Dengue. I visited the local community along with students and staff from the secondary school to educate families about the dangers and preventative measures of Dengue.

2.) The winds of Bruhmaseka have arrived. Every year around this time, powerful winds sweep over the west coast of Africa, forcing sand and dust from the Sahara over the Atlantic and toward the islands of Cape Verde. While some days are still crystal clear, other days will be overtaken by a heavy haze of dry dust and particles, obscuring the otherwise intricate and picturesque landscape of Santo Antao.

3.) The entire San Joanenses soccer team moved next door. Up until this week Kate and I had this block of houses to ourselves, now we share it with 15 sweaty male soccer players. In a way it evokes remembrances of college and living next to a fraternity house, minus the theme parties and jungle juice.

4.) Last Monday I taught my first Touristic English class for Adults. Having never before taught in my life, and having not the slightest idea of how to prepare, I researched every website I could find for pre existing lesson plans. I wrote out an outline for my first class in my little notebook, covering greetings, introductions, and the verb “To Be”. I brought a box of chalk, my notebook and a Portuguese dictionary. Everything went by great, the class of 25 all participated, people asked questions, and I successfully went through all my material… in 20 minutes. This is an hour long class! What in the world can I fill 40 minutes with? I was able to pull out a few other things out of the air, and finish the class on time after quite a bit of repeating and writing sluggishly slow on the chalk board. All in all, with an exception of the first day, I think everything went pretty well for my first week of teaching. I have an excellent group of students. It is exciting and invigorating when I can detect the determination and genuine interest of a student. Yesterday a young man asked to borrow my notes for further studying, after which another student asked if she could come by my house today for a private lesson. Their commitment is reenergizing and serves as reassurance to me that my service here is of valued importance. I teach 1 hour classes, 3 days a week beginning at 6pm. I guess this makes all the Kern females teachers, my mom teaching kindergarten, my sister teaching 1st and 2nd graders, and me teaching adults.

I agreed to teach only for 6 months, however I think I may continue my classes for as long as there is an interest. If I am going to begin something, I want to finish it. Many of my students want to be proficient in English in order to be more qualified for work. 6 months is not sufficient enough time for that, so I will commit myself to continue teaching as long as there is someone willing to learn. After 6 months however, or maybe even sooner, I will begin picking up other projects as well. Ideas: 1) working with the local youth organization 2) teaching business development classes 3) starting a kind of SIFE (students in free enterprise) group at the local school 4) planning for a girls’ leadership camp 5) working with development of the local pensaos, Bed and Breakfasts 5) Helping a friend setup a small video game café for students during their school breaks.

English is not the only thing I have taught thus far. I found myself using the quotations gesture quite a bit out of habit, before finally realizing these people had no understanding of what I was doing. “Im confused. She is randomly putting both her middle and index fingers in the air and waving them around while she talks.” So I explained saying “You know how some people will be drinking grog but not want anyone to know, so instead they raise their fingers in this gesture and say they are drinking “WATER”. Get it?” They got it and use the gesture quite frequently now.In Krux Grandi, I organized a Safe Sex seminar along with the other business volunteers and local youth association. I’ve also taught some of the students here how to make friendship bracelets as well as how to play a few chords on my guitar.

A significant portion of the Peace Corps service is dedicated to a cultural exchange, a two way process. Everyday I continue to learn something new whether it is about resourcefulness, creativity, culture or anthropology, or sometimes just how to live simply. Many times these lessons are bestowed to me indirectly, merely by observing human interaction, I am caused to reflect and discover new aspects of life, human nature and myself. As I mentioned before, seeing their sincere desire to pursue knowledge is inspiring. Their ambition to learn and progress fuels my own passion to serve and work towards making a difference in the lives of others as well as my own.

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

“The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.” – Flora Whittemore

I left my house in Ribeira Das Patas at 8:30 am and headed west without any real destination. As Santo Antao has a mountainous terrain, all the roads are incredibly curvy and windy (windy as in winding road, not breezy windy), so what would normally take 2 hours to hike, instead takes 3 ½. At one point I said this is ridiculous so instead of following the round about road, I decided to save time by descending straight down through boulders and tall grass. After all, the shortest path between Point A and B is a straight line, right? So following my own imaginary path, I started descending, first carefully hiking, then assuming a surfer’s stance (front leg extended, back leg bent at the knee, rapidly sliding through loose rocks and eroding soil, with both arms extended for balance), I gave up this strategy soon after for a crab walking position (slowly crawling on all fours, belly button facing up), this lasted for all of 2 minutes before I was sliding down the rest of the mountain on my butt.

Finally reaching the “real” path, I continued on until the ocean was in sight. I took advantage of a txiga in Ribeira Cruz to rest my tired legs. Jao, Fidel, and Guilimano informed me that the ocean was still another 45 minute hike. After chatting for a bit, I continued on my way, descending the cliff into the ribeiras, through the lava flow passage way, and finally I set foot on the black sanded beach. About 5 hours and ten miles later, I finally made it! I had no service on my phone, so the time was stuck on 12:41 and I was convinced by this time it was 3 pm and I didn’t want to get stuck hiking back in the dark on my own. I will admit, there is something exhilarating about being somewhere unfamiliar and having no sense of time or place. No distractions, just you and the world.

As I struggled back up the cliff side, I couldn’t help but notice the farm boy 30 feet in front of me who was out pacing me with his 6 cows. I see myself as moderately fit, but somehow their slow and steady pace was much faster than my short, quick, trudging steps. Then the cows left their little, or rather big “cowpies” every 3 feet in the middle of my path as to taunt me and my struggle.

After nearly dying of heat exhaustion and thirst, I came across the house I had txiga’ed at earlier. Fidel and his wife invited me into their home for rest, lunch and wine. I couldn’t ask for better timing. I stayed there for about two hours eating, chatting and resting after which they helped me find a buleia, or free ride, back to Ribeira Das Patas.

Later in the night, Kate (my roommate) and I joined some of the locals, walking down to the next village for wine and ponche (a locally made drink distilled from sugar cane). We all settled down on a pile of rocks along one of the dirt paths in a sugar cane field, chatted and laughed under the stars. Not too long after, someone brought out a large panela of fish soup with twenty or so bowls and spoons. On our way back, 3 of the guys hopped a wall to grab some mangoes off a tree. Talk about midnight munchies…fish soup and mangoes. We all walked back in one large line, arms interlocked like your first Friday night of college with new friends.

It was a good day. Lots of exercise, lots of new friends and lots of Kriolu that I actually understood!

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

“Every man must patiently bide his time. He must wait -- not in listless idleness but in constant, steady, cheerful endeavors, always willing and fulfilling and accomplishing his task, that when the occasion comes he may be equal to the occasion.” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

If there is one quality I have refined within the past three months it would definitely be patience; if there is one behavior I would change upon my return to America, it would be my level of empathy and patience for those struggling to speak English. Have you ever been the “awkward foreigner”, alone in an unfamiliar country, struggling to get by even in mere day to day situations? I’m not talking about going to Cancun for spring break with 5 of your best girl friends and your worst predicament is not being able to ask in Spanish where the closest bar is (miss you girls :) )…I’m talking about living in a foreign country for an extended period of time, not as a tourist, and not as a vacationer, but as a member of the community. If your answer is yes, then you may know how incredibly exhausting, frustrating, maddening and challenging it is. Knowing enough “just to get by” isn’t enough. I am living here. I am working here. I need to develop relationships and communicate with colleagues. I need to research and I need to teach. I need to learn to speak the language just as well as any other Cape Verdean here, but it is difficult learning without a tutor and your only means of learning is through talking with people and integrating. Now tell me, how can you learn a language orally, from non English speaking locals, when you can’t understand a single word to begin with? The other day I went into a restaurant and asked N pode tene picanha favor? Instead of asking for picante, hot sauce, I asked if I could please have a girlfriend. A little bit more about Cape Verdean Kriolu:

1.) Kriolu is an only spoken language. Although it is a dialect derived from Portuguese, it has orally developed over time, therefore it is only spoken and not written; this is why if you google Cape Verde… Kabu Verdi, Cabo Verde, Cabo Verdi, all appear.

2.) Every island has a different dialect. I learned Southern Kriolu (Badiu) on Santiago which is completely different from Northern Kriolu, which I am now required to speak. In the North, they make fun of you if you accidentally speak Southern Kriolu (which I do a lot)…think British English vs. American English

Southern- “Modi ki bu sta, kuze ki bu fazi oji?” – “How are you, what did you do

today?”

Northern – “Manera ke bo sta, U ke ki bo faz oje?” – “How are you, what did you do today?”

3.) Like in America I suppose, there are a zillion different definitions for one word. In other cases there are ulterior meanings for some words depending on context. Of course I like to explore so I learned the equivalent Kriolu expression “N gosta de spadja pe”…… “N gosta” meaning “I like”…. “Spadja pe” literally meaning “to spread feet…or legs” You can see how I’ve already messed that one up. Then “mama” depending on the accent means either “mom” or “breasts”. Sooooo….its pretty confusing and I’ve definitely learned the differences the hard and embarassing way.

4.) Teenage boys here have a jolly good time telling wrong information to the “American”, many times just adding confusion to the already existent mass of confusion. For example, if you ask a 15 year old boy what his name is, it is typical he will normally say with a big smile pipixu, then when I say “Hi pipixu”, he will snicker to all his friends that I said the word “penis” in Kriolu.

Being on the other side of the fence and assuming the role of awkward outsider is definitely eye opening. It is tough. I have a new found respect and admiration for anyone who genuinely tries to learn, no matter how terrible their accent may be.

Everyone tells me everyday, literally everyday, that if I find a Cape Verdean boyfriend I will learn the language much faster. While it may be true, I always respond “I don’t want a boyfriend. Studying and work are more important.”Lol, See if you find me saying that in America….Anyway, so for mom and dad and everyone else who made a wager that I would have a boyfriend within the first few months….you owe me $20! I’ve made up my mind to learn the long way. As I mentioned, if there is one quality I have refined during my stay here, it is that of patience.

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

“I believe that the rendering of useful service is the common duty of mankind and that only in the purifying fire of sacrifice is the dross of selfishness consumed and the greatness of the human soul set free.” - John D. Rockefeller, Jr.

I left my house this morning to seek out a German ex patriot who I was told began construction on a Pensao, Bed & Breakfast Inn, after moving here six years ago. Subsequent to an hour and a half hike through the ribeira, I came across his stone fortress situated at the top of the mountain, overlooking the entirety of Ribeira Das Patas. My first question was a hopeful “Bo fala Inglese?”, or “Do you speak English?” but alas the answer was an unfortunate no. After giving me the official tour of his unfinished Pensao, in a German accented Kriolu, Erick explained his current stalled situation due to an accumulation of opposing circumstances. I offered what help I could and by also extending an invitation to join my English classes. We spoke for 5 hours about everything from business development and drip irrigation, to hair restoration products in Brazil, to hand gliding and malaria. He invited me to stay for lunch so I helped him harvest some corn for lunch and herbs for brewing tea….probably some of the best tea I have ever had. Before leaving, he gave me two heaping bags of fresh tea leaves and one more bag filled with malaguetas, or chili peppers.

I began walking back to my town accompanied by a stranger carrying a bucket of mangoes. Before parting ways, he insisted I take a bag of mangoes back with me.

I continued on my way but soon discovered that the road I had been following had since dissolved into nothing but corn stocks and a faint foot path. Always up for a new adventure, I decided to ignore the fact that I was lost and to keep going. It wasn’t long until I discovered where the path led. 30 feet in front of me I spotted a woman standing in front of her small home staring at me with an expression I could not quite place. Meanwhile, her agitated dog is snarling, baring its teeth and yanking at its rope violently. Thoughts running through my head… “Please, please, please don’t let that rope snap!” “Please don’t let this woman strangle me for trespassing onto her land, angering her disgruntled dog and trampling all her crops”…I was too close now and had already made eye contact so I continued approaching. I greeted her and to my relief she returned the smile and extended a familiar Txiga! Her straw thatched house was about the size of my bedroom that I am currently writing this entry. The floor was cracked cement covered in dust and remnants of ground corn. The walls were adorned with relics of Catholic saints, tattered photos of family members, and an outdated wall calendar from 2003. Looking up I noticed random flashlights, dried gourds, rusted tin cans and disintegrating paper were hanging from and stuffed between wedges of the straw and branches composing the roof.

She handed me a large plate of papas as well as the lukewarm cup of coffee she had been sipping and motioned me to join her four little children seated on the floor eating the corn meal dish. I am aware that Cape Verdeans are known for their generosity but I had a feeling she had giving me her own lunch. I did not want to be rude and reject her hospitality, but I also did not want to eat her only meal. After much insisting on her part, I finished the papas and coffee and we chatted for a bit. As chickens and kittens casually wandered into and out of the house, I asked her about harvesting crops and if she went into the city to sell her products. Her response was both rousing and moving. She explained that many people living here do not have anything. They do not garden, thus they have little or no source of income, and no food. She gives most of her crops to those who need it; however there are times when she does need to sell crops in order to support her 6 children (all living in the one room hut we were currently sitting in).

I am incredibly overcome with feelings of wonderment and admiration. These people have next to nothing. Erick is struggling to get his business off the ground, yet he gives me a generous portion of the crops he needs to sell to fund the rest of his pensao; A passerby I just meet shares mangoes that he had undoubtedly gathered for his family; and now this woman hands over her own food to a complete stranger trespassing on her land. I have come to here to offer what knowledge and skills I have to help the people of Cape Verde, but with almost nothing they have helped me more than I could have ever imagined. To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson “It is one of the most beautiful compensations of life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.” I will never doubt the power of small acts of kindness.

“Happiness is not a destination: it is a manner of traveling. Happiness is not an end in itself. It is a by-product of working, playing, loving and living.” – Haim Ginott

Today I had a plethora of fresh-off-the tree unwashed mangoes followed by a tall glass of leite de vaca, unpasteurized milk (slightly tasting of grass) fresh from the cow in my neighbor’s yard. Therefore my stomach is paying the price and my room mate Kate is ironically suffering from the same “talky, gurgally, pissed off at all the mangoes” stomach cringing symptoms, therefore we are now confined to our house for probably the next two days. Anyway, I had a revelation today. I was down in the Ribeira today with Noeliza and Sandra, two of my Cape Verdean neighbors, gathering dead tree branches for cooking. Ribeiras are the steep cliff like ravines carved by lava flows, water and the wind, running like mazes in between the towering mountains. After rainfall, water flows down into the passage ways and out to sea, making it ideal land for farming and fruit orchards. As we were walking along the rocky passage way looking for tree limbs, we would stop every now and then to grab some fresh mangoes off the trees. This was accomplished by throwing rocks up into the branches and waiting for the tasty little fruits to fall on the ground. By the way, mangoes are part of the Cape Verdean diet. You normally consume 5 mangoes each day, biting into them like apples, peel and all. After which you are guaranteed to have a mouth full of mango stuck in between your teeth. The upside is that it forces you to floss every day, a tedious task I have always hated.

Anyway, I became excited at the fact that I have now handpicked several different kinds of local fruits…mango, papaya, guava, avocado, azadenia, fruta di pao…next time I go on vacation with my family and friends I can show off my new knowledge by identifying and climbing random trees to gather fruit! Then it hit me, I am exactly like my mom! My sister and I always make fun of my mom because we will go for a casual walk, whether in Hawaii, Australia or Virginia, and look back to find our little Asian mom a couple feet behind, off in her own little world, putting some random plant or fruit in her mouth like a little kid puts a toy car in his mouth….what seemed so strange and slightly crazy before is not quite so bizarre anymore. It’s funny how they always say people tend to grow up just like their parents.

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

“If we hope to live not just moment to moment, but in true consciousness of our existence, then our greatest need and most difficult achievement is to find meaning in our lives.” – In Search of Excellence

This past week, SED (Small Enterprise Development) volunteers flew, or in my case took a boat, to Mindelo on the island of Sao Vicente for a two day counterpart conference. While the purpose of this trip was to formulate an initial three month plan of action, it also served as a final brief vacation before commencing two years of rigorous integration, planning and work. Mindelo is a major port city attracting tourists and sailors from all parts of the world. Even before arriving Monday morning, while taking the ferry boat into the city, I shared a conversation with a German journalist named Maurice about world travel and volunteering. After lunch, I decided to pass on coffee with the other volunteers and join Neusa and Ana Lisa at the hotel pool, my PC Training Manager and PC Program Manager. While I am Filipino American, they are both Cape Verdean American, so it was interesting to hear stories of their own experiences, both in here and in America, that have developed as a result of a mixed heritage. We then continued to exchange thoughts on spirituality, personal development and future aspirations.

Tuesday, another volunteer from Santo Antao introduced me to three spirited sailors from Switzerland, England and Australia. They were docked at the harbor for a brief pause in their journey from South Africa to the Canary Islands. As we toured their boat, they told us stories about living at sea, not seeing land for months at a time, and the story of how they chanced upon each other. One of the three had been working an unsatisfactory job and when he came across the two sailors he asked if they needed a crew. After the positive response, he quickly traded in his job to chase the horizon and pursue life. After I finish my two years of Peace Corps, I know what my next adventure will be.

Wednesday, I was in search for a traditional African tapestry to hang on my wall and happened across an artisan shop where I met Abigail, the store owner’s niece. She told me about growing up in Ghana, the customs, culture, and about Gye Nyame, a traditional symbol used in Ghana meaning “Only God”. Later that night two travelers from France who were staying in our same hotel, joined us at a nearby restaurant to listen to a trio performing one of Cape Verde’s most beautiful forms of music, the Morna.

Speaking with these individuals reopened my eyes again to the reality of how big this world is and the countless opportunities that lie within it. I must live with purpose, not only from moment to moment, but in true consciousness of existence and in a constant process of progress; speaking with those more intelligent, listening to those more spiritual, learning from those more successful and lending a hand to those less fortunate…a refusal to live within my own means.

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

“The seas only gifts are harsh blows, and occasionally the chance to feel strong. Now I don’t know much about the sea, but I do know that’s the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong; to measure yourself at least once; to find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions. Facing the blind deaf stone alone with nothing to help you but your hands and your own head.” – Into the Wild

After roughly 180 hours of Kriolu lessons, 135 hours of culture/technical training, 40 hours of Portuguese novellas and 9 immunizations, PST is coming to a close. It is my last night with my home stay family in Kruz Grandi. Tomorrow I will swear in as an official Peace Corps volunteer after which I will depart to my new home in Santo Antao, and begin my two year journey.

So how am I feeling at this very moment? As eager as I am to leave behind the Katxupa and my molded room, I am also realizing what else I will be leaving behind. The past nine weeks I have gained a second family in the community of Kruz Grandi. While yes I have had money stolen out of my room, and yes there are an abundance of threatening bandidos sipping their grog on the only road to my house every night, there are just as many caring and loving people who have adopted me as family... walking me home, scolding me when I come home after dark, holding my hand crossing the street, continually inviting me into their home to txiga. When you are walking around the village or hiking along the mountainside, there are always women sitting on their verandas washing clothes by hand or grounding corn in pillongs for making the national dish Katxupa. Whenever you pass by, they will frequently ask you to “txiga” literally to “arrive”. This welcoming gesture demonstrates the value Cape Verdean’s place on morabeza , or hospitality. The women open up their homes often times to complete strangers who happen to be passing through, offering bolashi, fresh mangoes, juice and respectful conversation. I admire this distinguishing aspect of their culture, partially because it causes me to reflect upon the difference in our own cultural norms. I have been living at my home in Herndon, Virginia for 11 years and I believe I only know one of my neighbors.

In addition to my community, I have come to love and respect my Peace Corps family. Our core of staff is sincere, respectable, inspiring and always supportive, and I appreciate the time they dedicated to our development. As for the volunteers, we are thirty individuals from thirty different parts of America. We have different backgrounds, different spiritual beliefs, different skill sets, different experiences and thus different stories to share. I look forward to seeing how each of us utilize our inherently unique gifts to leave a positive impact on Cape Verde and this world.

I expect the next two years to be not only an adventure, but a challenge, both mentally and physically. I anticipate I will encounter loss of motivation, countless frustrations, disappointments and a longing for home, family and friends. It will be difficult, but if I can always remember what it was that initially brought me here and what it is that continues to fuel my passion to serve and learn, I will make it through the two years and perhaps come back stronger and with a better sense of self then when I first boarded the plane for Cape Verde.

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

“Life is not a problem to be solved; it is an adventure to be lived.” – Wild at Heart SED ( Small Enterprise Development) volunteers typically stay in their assigned villages every day for language and technical training with the exception of Wednesdays which are Center Days in which all trainees both SED department and TEFL (Teachers and Vocational Education) leave their hubs to meet in the city of Assomada for a day of general cultural and medical training. So today, after 8 hours of learning about the African parasites and the different kinds of diarrhea that we can expect to experience, the majority of trainees decided to remain in the city for a drink or two. Rather than partaking in a high quality 200 ECV bottle of wine (equivalent to $3), Lisa and I chose to walk around the open market and explore. Within ten feet, my right foot plunged into a crevice between the cobblestones filled with a questionable coagulated black substance. The thick black tarlike sewage covered my right foot and splashed all over my legs. The entire strip of Cape Verdean women in the market ceased their gutting of fish and swatting flies off mangos to stare at me while I let out a few slightly audible groans and moans in English. Lisa accompanied me back to the bar where the other trainees were still enjoying their cervejas, and the woman working there was nice enough to take me behind the restaurant to help me wash the black sludge of my feet. She used the empty gasoline container to pour water on my feet and I knelt down to reach the bar of soap off the cement ground. Still half way bent over, I glanced up to find two tiny brown eyes inquisitively staring back at me. Chained to the staircase was a light brown monkey, with his furry face literally an arms length away from my face. Of course I thought it was cute, but still a little shocked at seeing this monkey appear out of nowhere, nonetheless so close to me that I could basically see its fleas, I said “Oh! Ola!” Before I could finish the “Ola” the monkey sprang through the air attacking my arm, latching on to me with all four arms, legs…and tail. The lady immediately wacked it with a washboard, throwing it back onto the floor. I made it out with just a few scratches, but I douched it in instant hand sanitizer…..hopefully the “Kills 99.9% of germs” guarantee works for Ebola and rabies too. **Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

Here is a slide show of our first 9 weeks in Cape Verde, enjoy!

“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods; There is a rapture on the lonely shore; There is a society, where none intrudes; By the deep sea, and music in its roar: I love not man the less, but nature more…” –Lord Byron

With every day that passes here, I am amazed; amazed at the detailed perfection of Cape Verde’s landscape, amazed at the wonderful people I continue to meet everyday, amazed at the intellect and insight of staff and fellow volunteers, amazed that I am actually here living out one of my dreams. I am standing only at the doorway of my service so I cannot begin to imagine the perspective I will gain along this journey.

Up until this point, everything has been so surreal. Waking up to the sounds of roosters calling and children playing in the street below, the crystal clear sky, the rich blue waves of the ocean, the jagged mountainsides; after the first rain fall, the dusty shade of brown left by a seven month dry season are within two weeks, swept over by a vibrant and lush green veil of vegetation. While I try to take in everything I hear, see and experience, I find it difficult because everything is so drastically different and new. If I were to wake up tomorrow in the comforts of my own American home in Virginia, it will seem as if this were all a dream. It is strange to think about how you can place all your effort into embracing each moment, and yet be limited in how much you are mentally able to absorb. It is frustrating in a sense; observing something of such magnitude and being constrained from experiencing, understanding, and embracing it fully.

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself “If I lived through this challenge, I can take the next thing that comes along.” – Eleanor Roosevelt

This past weekend we took part in what is called Demystification. Trainees are assigned to follow volunteers currently in service. We visit their site for a weekend in order to gain a realistic perspective of the Peace Corps experience before swearing in. Lisa and I were assigned to stay with Sarah Mendelson in the village of Hortelao; a tiny and very rural community consisting of 56 families. No Electricity. No Running water. While one of the most rural sites, it is also one of the most beautiful. Hortelao is fixated in a valley between mountains, so much of the water from higher elevations flow down into the valley, saturating the area with vibrant color and life. Hiking through the groves of banana and mango trees was exhilarating and no doubt fun, however when the sun goes down it’s a different story. Here is an excerpt from my journal entry:

“I am writing this journal entry by the dim glow of candlelight…on a foam quasi-mattress…on the cement dining room floor…next to a broken refrigerator filled with both dead and living mice. It is literally two shoe lengths from my mattress and we can hear them scuffling around in there. Lisa called dibs on the side of the mattress away from the fridge, so lucky me… I just killed a giant red ant with my flip flop, there is a tarantula sized spider living in the doorway above my head, mosquitoes are humming in my ears and I am just waiting for the mice to come out and play. No mosquito net, no fan, no lights…only two Asians, 1 mattress and a bunch of Cosmo magazines.”

And here is an excerpt from the next day:

“My site better not be anything like Hortelao! I thought I would be able to handle rural, but Lisa and I were awake terrified all night. The mice scurrying around our mattress and knocking books/pans off shelves, the incessant howling and shrieking of wild animals outside our windows, the cockroaches chirping by our feet and the obnoxious flies and mosquitoes perching on every part of our bodies. The heat was intense, but we continued to huddle beneath a sheet in an effort to separate ourselves from the various creatures of night sharing our room. There was zero electricity so the entire valley of Hortelao was in sheer darkness, only intensifying our senses to current surroundings. Lying on a makeshift mattress while our sweat seeped into the foam, we could do nothing but stare into the black void, listening and counting down the minutes until sunrise.”

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

Cecilia Kern

Corpo da Paz

Alto Peixinho

Porto Novo, Santo Antao

Republic of Cape Verde (Via Portugal)

“God gave us eyes so that we might see; he gave us ears that we might hear; he gave us wills that we might choose; and he gave us hearts that we might live.” – Wild at Heart

For those of you who know me well, you are already aware of my never ceasing pursuit of life’s adventures. With every grain of sand, every mountainside and every sunset, there is an opportunity to experience and learn as long as you have your eyes open long enough to see it. With that being said, If I don’t make it home alive in two years it will be due to my insatiable appetite for exploration. In the preceding weeks I have engaged in quite a few spontaneous hikes involving scaling mountain sides, rock jumping off the coast of North Santiago, and exploring 5 ft pitch black irrigation tunnels (Needless to say, I was the only one who could get in there without ducking). Climbing an uncharted mountain with three other volunteers was indeed one of the most liberating and adrenaline inducing experiences…having no planned course just a simple destination of “up”. There were points where we had to climb vertically on all fours, and there were times where we had to cling to the cliff surfaces as close as possible. There was one point almost right out of a movie, we were walking along a narrow passageway atop loose rocks and dirt, someone’s foot slipped freeing a massive boulder and sent it hurling downward toward two local passerby’s. We yelled “Kuidadu!” meaning “Careful!” and they escaped its path just in time.

To put your minds at ease, I have had some educational experiences as well, not just the life threatening adventures. Today I decided it would be a good idea to try and desensitize myself by going next door and observing my neighbor’s (the butcher) activities. With one hand pressed to my mouth and the other hand partially covering my eyes, I gathered up my nerves to have her explain to me the process while she was in action. Needless to say, I can now identify most internal mammal organs, and I now know how to make authentic sausage. On a different note, as for some other activites…With the other SED volunteers, we were able to visit the US Embassy, a local Camara and Santiago’s National Park Serra Malagueta. We met with the former Prime Minister of Cape Verde as well as with the Farmers’ Association in Tarrafal. I have also attended Cape Verdean Catholic Mass (in Kriolu) and the religious Festa de Santana. I know how to manually wash my close in a bucket, take a shower in a cup and how to “xixi” (go number 1) in a bowl… (My host sister’s house does not have a bathroom, so they always have a plastic bowl available instead).

I have only been here a few weeks, but every day I continue to broaden my perspective through people I meet and the different experiences I face. I am excited to discover where this journey will lead me.

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.

“A man cannot discover new ocean’s unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.” – Andre Gide

After a one day staging in Boston Massachusetts, I….along with twenty nine other eager volunteers loaded up our luggage and headed to Cape Verde (Cabo Verde) Africa. Upon arrival in the capital city of Praia from the 7 hour flight, we were greeted by staff and volunteers currently serving the archipelago of islands. We remained in Praia for 4 days, staying at the Residencia de Madre Teresa for a brief orientation. Last Sunday we left the sandy shores of Praia for Assomada, the primary city of Santiago island’s interior. There we had our much anticipated first meeting with our host families at Eskola Teknika. We were welcomed into the school by a children’s group joyfully singing in Kriolu and tossing flower petals in the air as we walked by. As soon as we passed through the choir of children, we were face to face with thirty native families, and for a good ten minutes while our director was speaking you couldn’t help but observe the clear manifestation of two distinct cultures. The American volunteers with our hundreds of fancy luggages and laptop bags wondering which family we would be going home with…. The Cape Verdean women dressed in their cultural lensus and panus, and just as eagerly staring back wondering which child they would be adopting for the next nine weeks. My mom spotted me before I could find her and she ran towards me with open arms and a huge smile, picked me up and started shaking me in the air while showering me with kisses. (Glad I didn’t have to worry about a culturally sensitive greeting)I could respond only with a smile and an “Ola” as that was pretty much the extent of my Kriolo a week ago, and we headed to my new home in Kruz Grandi.

My first week of PST (Pre Service Training) has passed and now I am currently typing this journal entry while lying on my new bed. Everything here has been great so far, the food is delicious (aside from a few bizarre foods), the people are friendly and hospitable, the landscape is amazing, and everything is perfect. Of course there are a few downfalls….the insects on steroids….the first night I slept only 3 hours because of the 3 maybe 4 inch long barratas (cockroaches). Then there are also spiders the size of tarantulas, and mosquitoes, all in my room AND on my bed! I’ve gotten a little used to them now though. I just continually try to picture the animated little cockroach from Wall-E….I also duct taped my mosquito net to my mattress so they can’t get in, it’s a little bit of a hastle, but worth it. It is cool because it is almost like a farm here. We have chickens, pigs, cows, donkeys, dogs and goats…The downside is that my neighbor is a butcher operating out of her house so I hear the last pleading sounds of a cow or pig or goat every morning. Then as I am walking to school 2 hours later, I will usually see it laying lifeless in front of my house (I can go into detail, but trust me you don’t want me to). As for the bizarre foods I have now had fish head soup (Im like mom now), cow liver and rice, and Soupa de pe di Cabra (Ground Goat Feet Soup)…..hmmm Im almost like Andrew Zimmerman on the travel channel….almost….

A typical day for me would be:

6:45 – Wake up to the roosters calling (or to the sounds of other animals next door), crawl out of my mosquito net and take a cold bucket bath with a little less then a gallon of water.

7:30 – Eat breakfast, typically a roll with butter and instant coffee with powdered milk, but sometimes my mom switches it up. This morning I had Fidgus which are basically the same as funnel cake, and yesterday morning I had a massive bowl of rice topped with freshly made French fries drenched in ketchup and mayo, still with my instant coffee. (They top almost every dish with ketchup and mayo, and Im not gonna lie, it is delicious)

8 – Language class with the other business advisors

12 – 2 – Lunch with host family, typically some kind of spaghetti soup, or chicken or fish stew with rice…and soda…We have soda for pretty much every meal including breakfast sometimes

2-5 – Language/cultural/technical training

5-8 – Hike, explore, or network and meet people in my community

8pm – Dinner, either fish heads/chicken/pork/beef/goat, potatoes, yucca and rice or some other surprise, but always a lot of carbs. Watch Portuguese novellas with my family that I don’t understand

10 – Take another cold bucket bath and crawl back under my mosquito net and either study, read, or watch a movie until I fall asleep to the soothing sounds of cockroaches chirping and scurrying through my luggages…..speaking of which, I hear them now so I suppose that is my queue to fall asleep and have my psychedelic malaria pill induced hallucinating dreams…..

**Disclaimer** These thoughts and opinions are expressed solely by me and are not representative of the Peace Corps.