Since getting back, I haven't actually called a lot of people...in part it's because I STILL (after a week and a half here) haven't gotten a cell phone. The other part is the fact I kinda worry about the awkwardness of the conversation: almost like cold calling someone. It's just, logically/quantatively an awkward situation. It's not like when I was back for Christmas, when it's a "Hey, let's catch up really fast" conversation. Now, after 2 years of being gone, it's like a "Hey, how are you? Remember me? You wanna be my friend?" conversation. A little more awkward. Friends from before have had 2 years without me...now I'm kinda trying to fit into their lives. It's just...interesting.

In their defense, all of the friends I have called have been awesome and supportive. But what happens when I start calling people who were just good friends, not best friends?

I'm sure it'll all work out. It's just an interesting part of the readjustment process.

Oh and I thought of a couple other things to add to the last posting's list:

-all dogs here are nice and probably won't bite you

-the fact that you don't need exact change anywhere (or practically anywhere you go)

-restaurants in America have everything that's actually printed on the menu (I think that was on the last list, but I wanted to make sure)

Okay, g'nite.

Wow, a lot’s happened since the last time I posted. I finished my Peace Corps service and am now with my grandparents. There’s lots that could be said about the experience: the going away party was great, if not a little surreal, as was saying goodbye to people.

In Peace Corps, they say that the transition OUT of Peace Corps is much more difficult than the transition IN. This is for a variety of reasons, which I’ll speculate upon now.

When you go in, you don’t really know what you’re getting yourself into: it’s exciting and for the next two something years, there’s a plan. Yes, it’s hard getting to know the language and the culture, but you’re undergoing this transition with a group of other Americans, all in the same boat as yourself. After training each day, or even during training, you talk about the differences and the difficulties with others who understand almost EXACTLY how you feel, what you’re going through. There’s a nobility to what you are doing, to the transition you are undergoing: you are doing all of this to help people you’ve never met (or atleast that’s what you tell yourself: if you are honest, you are probably doing Peace Corps for yourself: to gain life experience, to experience another culture from the inside, to qualify for those post-Peace Corps scholarships, or what have you). It’s difficult but the end is insight, a mere weeks away for training, or a couple years (700 odd days, but who’s counting) away till the journey ends, till you COS (or Close Of Service: afterall when you leave, you haven’t quite learned all of the acronyms)

Fast forward 2 years (less if you leave early, more if you extend). Everyone doesn’t COS at the same time: rather it’s a trickle. When you leave, it’s not as a part of the group you came in with, and when you arrive in America, you go back to friends or family, most if not all of whom have never experienced something along the lines of what you’ve experienced. Your identity is taken away: you’re not an American (even though you are, it looses its importance) or a Peace Corps Volunteer (rather, you are an RPCV, a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer). There’s no job or housing waiting for you, no group of people who are readily available to talk and empathize with you about what you are undergoing. What you are doing, presumably laying on your family’s couch, or in your old room, figuring out what comes next isn’t noble: if anything, at 20 or 30 something years old, it’s a little bit sad. And, probably the biggest thing for me, right now, the curse and the blessing about coming back, is the fact that you’re viewing American culture through a slightly skewed lens. Yes, this once was your culture, you lived in it for 20 or 30 something years, but now you find yourself questioning what is normal, and even questioning this life you used to fantasize about. Below is a partial list of things like that, that I’ve found. Other RPCVs feel free to add your own. Post comments if you want/think I need further explanation.

-flushing toilet paper

-long hot showers

-not worrying about if the power is going to go out/not having the power go out

-actually needing to have a cell phone (although CV is starting to get to that point)

-NOT saying “Hello” and “How are you?” to everyone you encounter/everyone you meet

-speaking to people who have English as their second language, and not needing/feeling compelled to speak to them in their first language (I went out for Mexican food the other night and the server spoke English with a Spanish accent: my first reaction was to try to speak to him in his language. Why? Because for 2 years I’D been the outsider needing to use another language to fit in, to be served, to not get ripped off when out dining…I’m worried that this sounds a little bit racist, but it’s not meant to be…for two years I spoke another language, and often did it when I didn’t have to in an attempt to fit in: it’s weird not to have to do that now)

-there are like NO kids here, and the ones that are here, you can’t just go up to and play with because that would seem creepy.

-people actually bag your groceries for you

-I haven’t talked about Peace Corps administration for over a week: a record I believe

-if I say something in Krioulu, ninguem podi intendi (no one’s can understand)

-I go from an air conditioned house to an air conditioned car to an air conditioned building

-so many choices. This encompasses a lot: grocery stores and what they have there, the billion choices of ice cream; video rental places that have a ton of choices, and what they have aren’t pirated DVDs, malls with tons and tons of stores.

-restaurants that have absolutely EVERYTHING that’s on the menu

-not being able to instantly find my friends in any place.

I guess that’s all for now…I’m sure I’ll think of other things later.

5 days till I leave.

Wow.

I've known for the past two years that this day would come. In fact, at times, I've prayed for it to come sooner. But now, no.

For the past few weeks, it hasn't really seem real. More recently I've been busying myself with preparing to start a life back in the US, focusing on the future, not the past or the present.

It was only today, as I sat next to the 70 year old woman who has called me a Cape Verdean since practically the day I arrived, that it hit me. Holding her granddaughter in my lap, I smiled for the picture, and agreed with her that when I go back to the States, I'll be able to show that photo to friends and tell them that I had many friends in CV, that both the little one and the old one were my friends.

Moments like that one, simply sitting down with friends, and a few minutes later walking a hundred yards down and sitting with more people, playing with little friends and talking to the older ones, moments like that one will not be a part of my life once I leave here. I didn't appreciate that fact until today.

I have a feeling in the next 5 days, a lot of tears will be shed, both on my part and on the part of friends I've made here. I'm going to miss this place fiercely, and am sure will nostalgically look back on my time here.

I'm having quite an ideological crisis right now. Maybe someone can help me.

Fact 1: I believe that the rich should pay more to pay for programs to help the poor

By and large, I consider myself a liberal. One of the things I believe in is progressive taxation, especially of the really really rich. I just read a time magazine that the median real wage over the past 10 years has dropped nearly a thousand dollars. There have been studies that show that the majority of the past decade's increase in wealth has gone to the VERY wealthy, like the top 2% or 0.2% or something like that.

I also believe in having government pay for some things. Education, for instance. Job training programs to help people get skills they need to compete in a global marketplace. Health care for those who can't afford it (because honestly, what does it say about a country if they can't or choose not to provide a basic level of health care to all of their citizens? I'll let you ponder that one). Anyway, in order to pay for these programs, you need taxes. And while I think almost everyone should pay taxes, I think there comes a point where it's okay to tax people more to raise more funds. Like I said, I'm a fan of progressive taxation. (although I haven't figured out specifics yet)

Fact 2: I don't like getting overcharged in the market, just because of the color of my skin.

Especially when I go to Praia (or heck anywhere that's not my city), I will routinely be quoted a much higher price than that which would be quoted to a Cape Verdean. Yes, I save a little bit of money here, and yes, I have access to more (if I really needed a ticket out of this country immediately I have friends and family members whom I could borrow from), so I can afford to pay 50 escudos more for vegetables than an average Cape Verdean in the street; or 300 escudos more for a dress than a Cape Verdean. Yet it still angers me.

The people selling these goods by and large have been poor all of their lives. I'm guessing that they don't have a computer at their house and if they had to leave immediately to go to Portugal for an operation, they might not be able to borrow the money for it.

THE CONUNDRUM: If I believe in Fact 1, why should I have such a problem with Fact 2.

If anything, fact 2 takes out the middleman when it comes to redistributing income (from me, the richer person to a vendor who is presumably poorer (or more correctly who might have less disposable income) and is therefore more efficient. It gives people the power to choose what they want to do with the extra money, and if you assume, like much of economics does, that people are rational, they'll spend the money on the thing that brings them the most happiness (utility), as opposed to a government program which might mandate what those funds are used for.

Ahh....I just can't reconcile those two facts. Cognitive dissonance anyone?

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cognitive_dissonance)

Last night, thanks to a variety of circumstances, I ended up spending the night, with other Peace Corps Volunteers, in the first place in CV that I ever spent the night in. Naturally, being there made me reflect on if and how I've changed since that first night. It was interesting to wonder what I'd do differently, if I did it again, having all the knowledge that I know now (minus the language, naturally) What I ended up realizing was that in certain respects I've come a long ways, yet in others I still have quite a ways to go. Am I glad I had this experience? Definitely. Would I want to do it all over again? Maybe. Would I be better prepared to do it all over again (or be in a similar, but not exactly equal situation)? Yes. Would/Could I be the type of person who deals with all/most aspects of the transition, of the culture shocks, (and all of the other challenges) in the most idea way? No/Maybe (Would/Could). Anyway, it was definitely interesting to be there. I'm glad I went too: coming back to my town (I was in the capital for 3 days) I felt the beginnings of closure, whatever that may be. I felt myself pulling back a little bit, starting to see myself once again as "the other" instead of as one of them; started to re-see life here with slightly foreign eyes. I'm thinking that it's a good thing.

As my time here slowly comes to a close, seemingly everyday, every interaction is cause for reflection and comparison. "Will I do this in America? Will I do something like this in America?"are questions that often pop into my head. Today was no exception.

I woke up, read a bit, and started watching a movie that I watched the night before. Then the power went out, so I got up and started cleaning up my living room (something that was at the top of my to do list). I'd been to my neighbor's birthday party (she turned 3) and since I'm like part of the family I was reminded to come back at 9am to help clean. Being fully integrated (and actually quite hungry this morning) I showed up at 10.

As a sidenote, I hate sweeping in front of Cape Verdeans. They are seriously so much better at it than I am. Worried that I'd be handed a broom and made fun with (not of, because they wouldn't be malicious), I cleaned up at the party, taking plates to the back, scrapping leftovers in the pig bucket (it's the pig's food), etc. At the PCV's party I went to friday night, I did the same thing at the party...kinda cool how good behavior can be universal. But I digress.

So Saturday, 10am. I walk over, worried I'll be told to sweep. I hung out for a couple minutes, expecting to be told what to do, but I wasn't. Then I saw someone starting the dishes. I went over to them and started putting things from the wash bucket to the rinse one (there are 3 buckets: one where the dirty plates go and get whatever didn't get put in the pig bucket gets washed off, another where you do another washing, and a rinse bucket). I was given a stool and for the next hour, did dishes. They then offered me a breakfast of leftovers, which I of course ate. This was eaten in a storage room, surrounded by and sitting on cases of ponche, with some of the other neighbors. It was then back to work. Around 12:30 I left to go home, where laundry (and a frightenly messy room) awaited me. I decided that in order to clean I needed a cleaner which I didn't have. So I went into town, which of course means that a 5 minute walk easily stretches into half an hour.

I got home and then decided that I needed to put one set of grades into the computer. This of course, was more important than laundry as the electricity could go out so it's best to do things on the computer when you remember. That ended up being an hour (+) of putting grades in, taking them out (making a hard copy for the class that's practically over), proofreading newsletter articles and reading the occasional newspaper article.

Then I was hungry, so I made a burger and fries (which involved making my own fries) While eating dinner I realized that I needed to make copies of something for tomorrow and since copy machines rely on electricity, it's best not to wait to make copies (this helps avoid the occasional urge to kick your own hiney..."I should have made the copies earlier in the day...now I don't know when I'll be able to. )"

While walking by the Ninja Turtle's house (he's a 6 year old neighbor), I get called by him. We talk, and he wants to go to downtown with me. I say fine and 10 or 15 minutes later, we're gone. In the mean time we've picked up, literally, a 3 year old. He's afraid of fireworks (which occasionally go off in celebration of a wedding) and refuses to walk. So the three of us set out.

It was really cute:the Ninja Turtle flexed and made me tell him he was strong. Then the three year old did the same thing, and added "I'm strong so I'm not going to be afraid of fireworks" This is the same conclusion and way of saying it and conquering his fear that a 3 year old in the States would use.

So we get to the internet cafe/stationary store/cheap international phone place/bar/restaurant and I go to make copies. I then see a fellow teacher at school, who's hanging out with one of my 11th students (she might be one of his) and her boyfriend (who is slightly older than my little sister...but that's normal here) The little kids get chips and we end up hanging out for half an hour until the Ninja Turtle gets up and just leaves. I took my eyes off of him for one minute and he was gone. Luckily the 3 year old is a better babysitter than I am and leads me to him (he'd gone to the front of his aunt's house next door) On that note, we leave.

I had fruit that was going bad (it wasn't bad yet...it just all needed to be eaten in the next 24 hours, a feat I couldn't accomplish), so I dropped it off with a family who lives nearby who I know rarely eats fruit. We actually didn't stay there that long.

En route home, the Ninja Turtle wanted to stop at another neighbor's house, so we do. One of the kids there is a 4 year old who idolizes the Ninja Turtle...if the Ninja Turtle climbs on a car, he does. If the Ninja Turtle barks at the dog, he does. It was cute, a while ago I taught the Ninja Turtle the English word for dog. He pointed to one of the neighbor's dogs and said "Doggie" and made the 3 year old repeat it. I think I might have explained my difference between "dogs" and katxors (dogs are animals that you can pet, katxors are ones that you can't... physiologically they're the same animal but to me they aren't) so I think the Ninja Turtle might have picked up on that because we passed other katxors and he didn't say anything.

So the dog, a little mutt, loves me. I'm one of the only ones who'll pet it or play with it. When I'm around it gets all hyper, jumps between my legs and just tries to play, something that the Ninja Turtle loved watching. He got the idea to feed the dog some of his chips, and him and the kid who idolizes him just got so much pleasure out of doing that (I know, in America, you generally don't let your neighbor's kids feed half a small bag to chips to another neighbors dog...but this is CV where this dog is one of the lucky ones who gets fed leftovers (no kibble) All the while the 3 year old is in my arms and refusing to leave because he's scared of dogs. We're there for an hour, probably, until fireworks go off again, causing the 3 year old to cry. We leave and then I see an RPCV who's in town. So that leads to some hanging out.

I get home, put my laundry in to soak and then realize I have more newsletter business to attend to. I don't like calling people too late, and it can be kinda hard to get in touch with people, so I make those calls.

I do some of my laundry and then realize that it's father's day. Fearing a power outage, I go online and email my dad and my grandpa. And now we're here.

ANYWAY, REFLECTION TIME

As I've written before, sometimes days just get away from you, not because of laziness but because that's how it is. You'll have been busy most of the day, yet doing laundry at 8:30 pm on a Sunday night (like I'm doing now), even though laundry was at the top (well, technically #2) on your weekend to do list. I somehow doubt this will be the case, but hope there are somedays similar.

I've had an easier time than some PCVs adjusting to this lack of schedule. Maybe it's because I'm from California or probably it's just because I'm me. I remember in college, I had things I absolutely had to do (like go to class or work), yet often I'd lie in bed wondering where the day went. I'd have run into a friend on campus after class and instead of reading/studying before work we'd have coffee or I'd walk them to their next class just to talk. I'd see someone during my 4.5 hour break between work on Sunday and we'd have lunch. I was already in the mindset.

However, I also had a lot more things scheduled, if though I was in college. There was class, and work. But free time, hanging out and socializing was also scheduled for the most part. The spontaneous, we ran into each other on campus so let's have coffee, were the exception, not the rule. You'd make plans to have coffee a week from Monday, or on Tuesday a friend would invite you to a party on Saturday (a mutual friend was throwing it so naturally you're invited even if the person throwing it didn't tell you...that's something that's different here: if you're invited to a party you'll get a personal invitation, unless it's a saint day...but I'm rambling) You'd exchange emails or phone calls about wanting to see a movie, and you'd schedule a time and a place. In fact, someone might even prebuy the tickets online...it was that scheduled. The only time I schedule social time here is with other Americans and that's because we all live in different cities, so you kinda have to schedule it (plus I don't have a cell phone here) As I reflect on it now, I think I'm going to miss the unscheduledness of social time, the ability just to go to someone's house and hang out with their multigenerational family. We'll see how it all develops.

There's this one mini market I shop at in town that has a charming feature about it: every so often it shows me capitalism at it's finest. Occasionally, when I go to pay, items are more expensive than they are marked. As the proprietress rings me up, she takes things out of my basket and announces the price as she inputs it into her calculator. Every so often she'll go this price has gone up. It's now ____. It doesn't matter if a lower price was marked on the price sticker on the shelf it was on, or if the price physically marked on the actual product in permanent marker on the product is lower, the price has been raised. I didn't start noticing this till recently (like in the past couple months) Sometimes I feel a little part of me, some dormant vestige of myself from 2006, stir and want to argue. "It's not right. If the price is marked X, the price is X, not X plus something." (the Xs are always replaced with the original amount of the item...don't worry, I don't think in algebra). The 2008 version of myself always takes over, going with the flow, realizing this is just the way they do things here (and by here I mean in her market). I've had my fights in the past, gotten all huffy and it's done nothing (wait, I can't buy shampoo and conditioner separately, I have to buy them as a pair? But I bought them separately last month. In fact, I only bought conditioner...I ended up leaving conditionerless and angered). I've always thought it's because food prices, and oil costs really are rising.

Until today. Last week they got in Betty Crocker Super Moist Cake Mix (in 2 flavors: Devil's Food and Yellow) Retail price 180 escudos. I bought one and made it and really liked it. I liked it so much that two days later I went back to buy another one. They were all out of the Devil's food, so I bought one of the two last remaining Yellow ones. Today, two days after buying my second box of cake mix, I went in the store and they had replenished their supplies. The sticker below the boxes said 180 escudos. I checked twice because I'm a dork and was comparing prices. When I went to check out, as the proprietress was pulling things out of my cart, she said "cake mix, 200 escudos, the price went up" The 2006 version of me stirred, but the 2008 version just gritted her teeth, said nothing and paid. I kinda wanted to say "The price didn't go up. You saw that they sold well, and decided to increase your profit." It's what John Smith says any rational person would do, and it's cool to see (almost) pure capitalism in action, working right before my eyes.

However there's a part of me that still doesn't like it and feels that it's somehow unethical. Ahh, the inner capitalism vs. socialism battle, which, kinda makes sense given my background (if you think about the cliches of being both an econ major and a alumna of Berkeley).

Yesterday I was just walking around town, killing time before night school. I showed up at the youth center where the guy that runs it was studying. He's studying public administration and was studying econ. He had a Xeroxes of a part of an econ text book, which naturally I had to look at. There were graphs similar (if not the same) to what I studied, with names I recognized, but couldn't exactly remember. Given 5 or 10 minutes with an English language textbook, it'd probably come back. It was cool: I learned the word for profit by looking at a graph and the nearby words.

We started talking about electricity, which naturally was out. He told me how the electric company was mostly private (it'd been privatized but I think the government was somehow involved), and how people stole energy. I then started thinking about if electricity is a private good or a public one. It was a fun thought experiment, but I think because of the language barrier, I lost him somewhere. If I ever get it together I might put it on here.

The electricity came back shortly before I had to walk to night school, thankfully. Walking in the dark sucks. The last time I had to walk home from night school during a power outage, I paid one of the high schoolers who was hanging at the youth center to walk me home.

I live in a very nice house. Nice by Peace Corps standards: electricity, water inside the house, even a hot water heater for the shower. All of which I'm grateful for.

To fuel my stove and oven I have a gas tank. A blue round gas tank like you'd use on a gas grill. That's all fine and dandy, until the gas goes out, like it did tonight.

For the past week I've been promising my students that I'd bring them cookies when we went on a field trip this Saturday. Cookies which kinda need to be cooked. Being lazy today, I didn't start making the cookies until tonight, and seeing as I ironically didn't want to waste gas, I didn't preheat the oven. I should probably also add that I've been looking forward to cooking dinner all night...I don't know why: I just haven't done it in a while and was looking forward to having a hot healthy meal.

All of this leads us to 8pm. I go to turn the stove on and it won't go. I try it a couple other times (actually for an embarassingly long time) before declaring that the tank is empty. Shoot. It's night and I could call and harass my landlord to drive me to the gas station that closes at 9, but he's old. So now I sit, cookies all formed and sitting in the pan, having to be at school at 8am, only to loose face and be harassed by the kids. Grrr.

Oh and if were me, I'd have a back up, but that's just not the way things are done here. Double grr.

"Of all the unavoidables in life, growth is probably the worst. Far more embarassing than death, growth is more than just change; growth is the act of changing, aging. It's the in-between. A sort of biological limbo that your parents never fail to capture on film. It's a state of not belonging, of transitioning from one thing to another-yet being neither-and it causes aches in your femurs and cracks in your smile. It makes you sweat, it makes you cut ties, and most times it makes your hurt. Of course, the one good thing about growth-the scheme's grand catch that drives everyone and everything to keep on sprouting limbs and spinning cocoons-is that after it is all over and done with, you've grown." - Lesley Bargar, "Stepping out with Riley Kiley: Capital Gains, Growing Pains& Grench Champagne in Aging L.A." Filter Magazine #26, p. 49

I got back from my Close of Service a couple days ago...it was really good to be home.

The way the past two weeks were, starting Monday the 5th (Cinco de Mayo!) I participated in a 2 day training design workshop with Peace Corps. The first day was super nice: coffee fueled but after the first couple hours, we actually got to do work, on a computer. It was so nice to be working on a project, on a computer, doing something that I felt a wee bit qualified to do (I know how to work well with groups and accomplish clearly defined objectives such as the ones we were given). People also commented on my work ethic, which was nice (gosh I sound like a tool, and work ethic might be overstating it: they were like Wow, when just given a bit of direction, you really soar; but it was still nice to be complimented). The second day wasn't as productive but it was still fun. The downside of it all was that it made me waaayyy less excited to teach. It showed me what I'm lacking in terms of personal fulfillment in the job.

So Monday and Tuesday were at that workshop: I taught Wednesday through Friday(and gave tests on Wednesday and Thursday). Saturday I also went to Praia and had lunch at one of the PC staff's houses: it was super nice of her to invite us over. Plus the food was really good.

So I have two night adult school classes: these are students completing their GED. I gave what I thought was an easy test to one of the classes. I hand out the tests, reminding students not to talk, and they go to the races. After like 5 minutes, I happen to look up and see a girl looking down at the chair next to her. After further investigation, I go over and see on the chair next to her, she's put her notebook, opened to just the page she needs. Mind you, the entire test is basically a vocab test. So I take her test and tell her to leave.

This is when all hell brakes loose. She starts yelling at me (the same phrase, over and over again in Krioulu) and when I try to explain, she simply changes the phrase and keeps yelling that over and over again. It's late, I'm tired, not just that night, but in general, of people trying and successfully taking advantage of me and not respecting me because I'm not from here. So I do the stupid thing and start yelling back. She tells me that she'll leave when she finishes her test, I tell her that she's leaving now. I should have stayed calm. I shouldn't have raised my voice. I should have just kept her test and told her to leave. But I didn't do any of those things.

I left the class to get another teacher. During day school, the other teachers always have my back and have helped me to control the students a lot. They seem to understand my situation and always, always, always have my back. Stupidly I assumed it'd be the same at night.

The student's basic argument was, that since she'd only written her name on the paper, she wasn't cheating. In my head, having an open notebook sitting next to you and looking at it is cheating.

The other teacher came in, heard her side of the story, and then told me to give her her test back, without hearing mine. I was SUPER angry at that teacher. Even though I'd asked him in for his opinion, I was like "Is this your class? I saw her cheating, she needs to leave." and then he was like "Well, she says she wasn't cheating, and she DID only write her name." Since I now have no authority, I give her her test back. The other teacher leaves, I huff around for a bit (I throw her notebook at her, just in case she needs to use it (I know, another thing that even now, I'm super duper embarrassed about). I then go to the front teacher's desk and cry quietly. While that was probably the least professional thing to do, I thought that they needed to see how their behavior affects me. I'm a person too, and if you are going to blatantly disrespect me, live with the tears.

The class quieted down for a bit. After I was through crying, I got up and walked around, to try to help them. I wrote an apology in their language, and mine, on the board, saying that if I wished to be treated as a professional, I need to act like one, and acting like one does not include yelling at a student. They said it was okay. I also caught the teacher as he was leaving. I apologized for my behavior, and he said I didn't need to, but I could tell it helped a lot. Outside of class I also apologized to the girl, who still insisted she was innocent.

The next day I saw another student from the class. She'd been sitting behind the cheater and saw what happened. She said that I was right, and had I been a Cape Verdean, I wouldn't have got treated in the way that I did. It was nice to be backed up by someone who was there.

Sunday was a party at a friend's house (the high schooler got confirmed into the church), followed by my first night of the Close of Service Conference. That ran till Wednesday night when I came home and slept, and slept.

It was the last time that everyone who is left from my training class is all going to be together. A definite cause for reflection. Even though many of the group dynamics were the same, or at least similar to Pre Service Training, I felt that I was different, more chill, more mature. It was definitely a nice feeling. Plus it made me realize how insane PST was: here we were for only 4 days together, in hotels with gloriously hot and pressure-ful showers, knowing the language and the culture, and yet by the end I was ready to leave. It was really nice to see people, really nice to catch up. I've made some really good friends there and can't wait to see how the friendships will develop once we are Stateside.

My two proudest/happiest moments from the conference are as follows:

1) When one of the training staff, during informal time when some of us were hanging out, getting a little bit of work done, well she commented on how much I've grown, and how she could see that. A pat on the back is always appreciated, plus it was a nice confirmation of what I already knew.

2) When I gave an impromptu 5 minute English class to preschoolers. I was walking back from the market, after hunting for my lunch, and I saw a preschool with a teacher and a couple students, sitting on the stoop. I said hello, and they invited me in. The kids were all sitting down for story time, so I introduced myself, and together, we counted to five a few times in English and Portuguese. It don't know why it left me with such a good feeling, but I can guess: 1) I like preschoolers; 2)it showed me how far I'd come with my language skills, being able to talk with them in their language and the such, and 3) along similar lines as 2, just having the confidence, and not being nervous in front of a large group, improvising something, to me these are tools/skills that I really gained/developed here.

Oh and I also discovered schwarmas (like the CV version of a California burrito) and mint ponche (which tastes like slightly alcoholic melted mint ice cream...it's quite good), both of which I'll have to have more of before I leave.

Okay, now it's time to stop procrastinating and grade the 200 tests I gave last week.

Things important to know for this brief story:

-Whenever I walk around, I say hi and talk to almost everyone I run into, old people, young people, students, three year olds who call me "teacher."

-Today I was wearing a shirt that says (in English) "Tell me again why is it I need a boyfriend?"

-During my entire time here I've been single.

So as I was walking to the market I got stopped by a couple kids: 12th graders who speak English well to moderately well. So the following conversation was held in Kringlish (when you mix Kriulu and English)

"Hello Teacher."

"Hi guys"

"Teacher, do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Do you have kids?"

"No, but I'm young, I'm only 24."

"Your twenties are the time to have kids."

"But why do I need to have them?"

"Because God tells us to go and multiply."

(me, inwardly "D'oh/Touche)

(The boys continue) "Teacher, a lot of guys here like you but are too shy to say anything."

"Good. They need to keep their shyness."

"See that guy over there? He likes you. Pssstt." (calls said guy over)

Me: "Sorry, this kid wants to arrange (get with) you." (the dude walks away)

This is repeated a couple more times, to my slight embarrassment.

Seriously, do kids/students do this in America?

The night before my birthday, I spent making pizzas with my roommate, and the neighborhood kids. I'd gotten a late start, so I drafted a couple to help me . We made the dough (they helped measure) and then they went off to play in my house, disrupt things, do shots of balsamic vinegar (it was out, and one of my favorite kids open it up, tried it and then got the other kids to try it). So right as we're about to put the crusts in the oven the doorbell rings, and in walk my roommate and the neighborhood kids: they'd drawn pictures of me on balloons. It went from relative calm to love-filled chaos in 30 seconds. The kids all wanted balloons, even through the plan was to hang them up for the party the next day, so there was crying. Some were playing, others were climbing all over things, and I was trying to capture some of it with my camera. It was fun, chaotic, crazy, and lovely. They all went home, I finished the crusts and prepared for the parties the next day.

I was having 2: one in the afternoon for the little kids, and one at night for the people my age.

It was weird: I wasn't actually stressed about the party. I had no clue who'd show up, and I didn't actually call anyone to confirm. The only way I knew that we were getting snickerdoodles was the fact that the person bringing them called and told me. I knew what we were having for dinner, trusted that there'd be enough food, knew that there was music, and honestly was quite chill about the whole thing. The electricity went out, and I got a little bit worried; but I just made sure we'd have candles. Luckily it came back. All during the day I wasn't really stressed, from cleaning and cooking

The party ended up going okay. During the party I was really content. Doing my own thing, not really worrying about anyone else. I did my jobs: reheating the pizza (which I tried to lob off on someone else, but ended up doing it), doing the occasional clean up of the kitchen (washing dishes so the ants wouldn't attack); having fun. I didn't worry if people were getting along: trusting that they would, and if not all of the conditions were there for a good time, so it'd be their own fault. I decided that since it was my birthday and a party at my house, I could eminent domain anything in the fridge: juice, wine, beer, food, whatever. I really wasn't worried about asking anyone for permission to do anything, if I could have one of their juices or if they wanted another one. It was just nice and relaxing. I totally, for the most part went with the flow and just wasn't stressed. Oddly it was only after that I realized that the party wasn't spectacular (but perhaps more on that in an upcoming blog post)

The next morning, almost everyone left early. The Brazillians, a couple that we know, stayed and slept in as did one of the guys. Since it was 8, I was up, and there were things to be cleaned, I got to it. Doing a load of dishes, sweeping and then mopping the floors by hand (food had spilled and ants were already attacking); stripping the tables of their tablecloths (aka bedsheets) and washing them by hand; washing another couple of sheets by hand. My Ipod Shuffle firmly attached to my ponytail with an elastic, fueled by sugar from the leftovers (including the cake that we didn't cut and the icing that we didn't use for the cake) I kept my going-on-five-hours-of-sleep self going and cleaning. People woke up and hung out: I talked with them a little bit and kept cleaning. I took a little break when the neighborhood kids came over, but even cleaned a little bit while they were here. The weird, and important thing was, it didn't seem like CLEANING, chores I had to get done, that I avoided, that like, really blew and stuff. (teenage speech on purpose). It was just what I had to do, and things that would get done in their own time. Stress wasn't really there, rather acceptance.

Oddly it was only after that I realized that the party wasn't spectacular (but perhaps more on that in an upcoming blog post) Not just that, there wasn't really the magic of a birthday. When the teachers at school sang me happy birthday, that was nice and I felt super special, and was on a happy high for a little bit. When the kids next door sang (I had a kid party earlier in the day for my little friends) I felt a little special, and then not really bothered by the fact that they proceeded to make my house a mess. Anyway, the all day giddiness and magic that used to accompany every March 15 just didn't seem to be there. Yet I was chill. I called a friend tonight (the 16th) to apologize for not listening to her enough, and mentioned this. She posited, among other things, that maturity is just that: a trade of "magic" or to be more concrete intense feelings (both good and bad) for chillness, the ability to know that it'll all work out and that only you control how you feel.

I read this (http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/02/us/02fengshui.html?hp=&adxnnl=1&adxnnlx=1204463703-hLzWmopzpPfnYI4wi6E7rw) and it reminded me of yet another reason why I love this country....Can you guess?

Mark Twain: "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream."

“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life’s realities.” - Dr. Seuss

Last night I went across the street to my neighbor's house. I had to ask one of the the kids my age (well, I guess if you're over 18 you're a young adult but whatever) a quick question.

That however was impeded by the 3 year old, one of my favorite people in the world. He's the one who used to call me LiLi, but now uses my name :) There he was, at 9 at night, singing the same stanza to a popular song at the top of his lungs, doing a little dance where his whole body shook, over and over again. There was such joy in the his voice, in his body. He was doing something just because it made him happy, regardless of what others said (his mom, his cousin, his brother and me all told him to be quiet but he just kept at it, somehow seeing the smiles in our eyes and voices, knowing that he'd get away with it.) His little song and dance routine in turn brought us all a little happiness.

I want to be that. I want to do that. I want to be confidant enough to do a little song and dance just because it makes me happy, and not care what others think, and in turn have my happiness bring others happiness.

As an addendum, en route to the place I am sleeping this week, I decided, screw it, there's no one around, so I kinda model walked down the street, even pulling the clip out of my hair, just because it made me happy. I stopped before I got into the light, so I guess I'm a work in progress. When I made it up the stairs to the house, I went to the bathroom and tried to imitate the little dance, and it did make me happy. I looked like an idiot, but one that was laughing and having fun. I haven't quite reached the three year old's level of who cares-ness: I sashayed and danced when I thought I wasn't being watched...but I figure posting it online kinda takes the whole "no one knows" out of it, but let's just say it's my way of retroactively dancing in front of ya'll.

Makes me wonder what would happen if were were all a little more like the 3 year old.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/7270743.stm "Harry withdrawn from Afghanistan" When I first read the title of this article, I thought for some reason they were pulling Harry Potter books/movies/etc from Afghanistan. Upon reading the article, I learn that they are pulling Prince Harry...third in line for the English throne. Makes me think a lot about the US, our leaders, and their/our commitment to war...

Bribed with a book...

I guess people know me pretty well here...a fellow teacher at worked asked me to do a favor for him (read a 6 page report he'd written for the first part of his university thesis) At the same moment, he lends me a book that he says is very good (and is actually one that I've been wanting to read for a long time (My Brother Sam is Dead). I love that a) I can be bribed by a book; b) I'm sharing books with other people here and c) people know me well enough to bring me books...yay for my life!

Last week was something quite stressful...here's a greatly condensed version...

Monday during my time with one of the classes, my toughest class, I gave a test for the history teacher. Before I gave the test I told the kids that each time they talked, I'd write their name down and give it to the their teacher with the suggestion that that he take a point off of their test.

This system worked without problem till the end, when a kid, who I usually didn't have problems with, decides to talk for the second time. I go to make a mark, and he stands up, insists that he didn't do anything,tries a couple times to grab the paper from my hand and refused to either sit down or leave.

Afterwards, I talk with another teacher and have them help me fill out a formal complaint form. The kid ends up getting suspended for 3 days.

His mom ended up making a big deal about the incident and writing a letter which she sent to the student association, the teacher's association and some other group. Of course, I learn about this little by little and it's the not knowing, the lack of information about what's going on which is so stressful. My boss at Peace Corps is called, meetings are held, all sorts of stressfulness...Trouble sleeping, stress, it just sucks.

It all ended up getting resolved (or atleast I think it did) and went way better than I thought...I learned a lot about how the school works, and am learning more about the school's problems in a very hands on, from the inside out way.

The plus side is that it made me realize that I have friends here and in the States. Fellow teachers were super supportive, as was Peace Corps, as were my friend from home. Plus it's definitely something for interviews...a challenge I overcame or something.

Feb 10, 2008 My day spent as an adult

7:15 AM Wake up

7:30 AM Start doing laundry....fill the two buckets with water, and one with soap, the other with fabric softener. Start laundry by hand, albeit with a washboard

8: 15 AM Breakfast and break from laundry...rewatch an episode of "How I Met Your Mother" from Season 1 that you've already seen a billion times...start overusing the words "Legendary", various types of "high five" (ie phone high 5, international high 5, self high five etc), and awesome

9:00-9:15 AM Continue with laundry

9:45 AM finish with laundry

10 AM start sweeping and mopping the floor by hand (use broom but no mop...instead a pail of water with bleach and a rag)

11:15 finish mopping for now. Get dressed, head into town and go shopping.

12:30 or 1, Come back from shopping. At the mini market, get made fun of in a combination of English and Kriulu for slipping and skinning your knee on Thursday. Get an extra free bread thingy (which you still haven't learned the name of) from a student, who was difficult for the first 6 months of class last year, but who the last 3 months came around and now really likes you albeit whose English still is quite bad.

1-1:30 Put away groceries. Make lunch.

1::30-3 ish Eat lunch. Watch part one of a tv show that you got at a 99 Cent store when you were in the States (unfortunately you do not have part 2) Title: "My Global Adventure" a documentary about a Canadian 24 year old who goes on an 8 month 24 country trip...it documents both the countries and her changes as she discovers new cultures. Reflect a little on your own adventure. Be bummed that they didn't come to Cape Verde, but did go to Portugal.

3-4:30ish Lesson plan, make birthday cards that you'll probably be too lazy to send on time.

4:30-5:45PM- Sweep the front porch area of your place and your neighbors....sweep outside too...literally sweep and put dirt in the trash...why? because all the other people are doing it...sweeping outside and putting dirt from outside in the trash...just call me Sisyphus.

5:45-6:15PM take a break while your roommate and a CV woman start making a traditional CV dish (cachupa).

6:15-6:45PM As your roommate leaves to go running and as the cachupa continues to simmer, start cleaning the other half of the living room, by hand, with a mixture of bleach and water. Kinda ignore the CV woman sitting on the couch across from you as having people watch you clean can be uncomfortable. To aid in this, blast Dido's Life for Rent, which the CV woman actually likes.

6:45-7PM Mop the kitchen by hand

7-7:15 ishPM Lukewarm shower, which instead of feeling cold (like it did when you came back from the States) now just feels warm (and bareable)

7:15-8PM Random puttering around. Finally settle down with Tolkien's the Return of the King.

8-9ish- Dinner which was yummy...followed by rewatching a couple Friends episodes for the millionth time...or maybe it was How I Met Your Mother, who knows. After a long day, use any excuse to laugh.

February 9, 2008, 9pm - A little shiver of joy

The NGO-er just drove by dropped off a plate covered with a cloth napkin. When I uncovered the plate, my body did an involuntary little shiver/wave of joy, starting at my head and going all the way down to my toes. It was a plateful of chocolate chip cookies. Yay!

February 9, 2008 - LOTR quotes of the moment

"The great tale of wonder, like the great novel, is not a preoccupation of children...the adult mind has, if anything, greater need of fantasy than that of a child." -Loren Eisley, New York Herald Tribune Book Week, quoted in JRR Tolkien's The Return of the King

/'

In the next quote, pay special attention to the last line, which I just think is poetry

" The Sixties were no fouler decade than the Fifties-they merely reaped in Fifties' foul harvest-but they were the years when millions of people grew aware that the industrial society had become paradoxically unlivable, incalculably immoral, and ultimately deadly. In terms of passwords, the Sixties were the time when the word progress lost its ancient holiness, and escape stopped being comically obscene. The impulse is being called reactionary now, but lovers of Middle-earth want to go there. I would myself, like a short.

For in the end it is Middle-earth and its dwellers that we love, not Tolkien's considerable gifts in showing it to us. I said once that the world he charts was there long before him, and I still believe it. He is a great enough magician to tap our most common nightmares, daydreams and twilight fancies, but he never invented them either; he found them a place to live, a green alternative to each day's madness here in a poisoned world. We are raised to honor all the wrong explorers and discoverers-thieves planting flags, murderers carrying crosses. Let us at last praise the colonizers of dreams." -Peter S. Beagle, Watsonville, California, 14 July 1973, in the introduction to The Return of the King

February 9, 2008- Roommates

"So we're not that unusual" my roommate says to me after returning from a week spent with other Volunteers on another island.

"How so?" I ask.

"Apparently we're not the only ones who cook dinner together and then watch a DVD together before going to sleep," replies she.

"Well, lots of people do that..." and then I actually think it through (and think it through aloud). Here there isn't much else for us to do, nights tend to be quiet, so what else are you going to do. As my roommate pointed out, it's not as if either of us has a ton of (or any) "friends to hang out with on a school night" like we might in the States. Plus we don't have internet to drive us to our separate rooms and our separate lives. If in the States, you get placed with a roommate (via Craigslist or whatever), there's a high probability that you won't be friends, or if you are it's because you made a concerted effort somehow. Here the opposite is true: it takes a concerted effort not to be friends with your roommate.

February 9, 2008 - Look at me :)

As I was walking home from night school (held Saturdays at 8:30 am) I saw this group of 7th or 8th graders, with their noses up against the windows of this craft store: a place that typically only tourists buy things from (where I got paintings I brought back for Christmas). Of course there were a group of white tourists in there. I felt like such a grown up when I said "What are you doing?" and the boys said nothing. I was like "Well, go in the store and practice your English, French, or Portuguese or leave. If you want to watch a branca, I'm right here. Go." And they did.

I understand the interest...to be truthful whenever I see foreigners, especially ones from Europe, I'm curious. But I've also been on the other side: at a bar with a bunch of other Volunteers, with a bunch of Cape Verdeans watching from the other side of it (poking through the bamboo walls), and it's just uncomfortable.

February 8, 2008- Cool ride

I just heard of a Peace Corps Volunteer, somewhere, getting a belaya (ride) on a yacht. How cool is that?

February 7, 2008- Okay, I've done something :) I can leave now

Anyone who knows me knows that among my other notable attributes is my natural inborn, klutziness. There are numerous stories of it, although in my defense, I have learned how to catch myself, just exactly where to put a hip or hand to prevent a cup or bowl or what-have-you from crashing off the counter. All of that training was of no use today when I totally ate it.

Naturally I was running slightly late to school. At 8:03 AM, as I neared the bottom of the sloped, dirt and rock driveway which makes the entrance of my school, somehow I tripped on a rock or whatever and just totally ate it. My right hand went down to catch myself, but unfortunately, that was not enough: my left knee was skinned. I started doing that nervous laugh as I heard some kids far back laughing a me. Luckily most people were really nice, dusting me off (I was wearing a black skirt, which showed all the dirt), helping me to my feet. I went to the bathroom, and one of the cleaning ladies (whose daughter I teach) helped wiped the dirt from my arm (where I didn't notice it was there). Another student made sure my bag was clean. Even though everyone was being so nice, needless to say, it left me flustered and cursing under my breath way too often.

By my 4th period class, word had spread and as I arrived, the students were concerned, and also kinda into making fun of me. After a class where they didn't really pay attention (I took a note that said that it was one of my 9th grade student's 19th birthday, naturally I said Happy Birthday. That brought the whole class to sing "Happy Birthday" (in Portuguese) to the student in the middle of the class, even though I told them to stop. I swear that they've realized something it that I didn't realize until after college graduation: teacher's really have no power, especially when confronted by an entire class full of singing students. Some of the students were claiming that they didn't understand the material, even though we've been covering the same stuff for 3 weeks! I took make up away from 2 girls (and tried from a third, who realized that I have no power and wouldn't give it to me) and told them that I'd give it to them the next day. That class I was near tears and probably more anxious to leave than most of the students.

I ended up walking home with 3 students from my other 9th grade class. In English, they kept asking me if I'd "crashed" I told them that cars crash, but yes, I did fall. "No you crashed" "No, I fell" "No Teacher, you crashed" "No I fell". Then, I'm pretty sure that one of them told me that I had to diet and exercise. It took a while for me to understand the meaning of the Krioulu for diet (even though it's similar). At that, I walked quickly, so I'd be ahead of them, if the tears, which were dangerously close to surfacing, chose to show themselves. I then told them (in Krioulu) if they told a girl she needed to diet and exercise in the US, she'd punch them. One of them said (in English) "Then I'd call the FBI." "What?" "The FBI, the police". Then in Krioulu "Oh, how did you know about the FBI?" "Playstation 2: Vice City." America has so many great exports :) Although the kids did say that they liked the music that went along with that.

Of course I had to teach night school. Of course I was running slightly late (but the night school students are never on time) So I'm walking by the rec center, outside which guys can typically be found hanging out. One of my students, told me not to fall. I stopped for a couple moments and talked with him and his friends then in English said "I gotta run." He's like "No teacher, don't run." Smarty pants.

On my way back from school, I saw kids who go to school in the afternoon. They asked how my knee was. News travels fast here. :)

On the plus side, now that this is out of the way, I think I am one step closer to going home (me being me, naturally I would have to have at least one embarrassing fall before I left)

Feb 6, 2008- America the accidental imperialist

I was eating lunch with one of my ex-student's families because today is Salted Cod Day (check your Catholic calendar to know what the actual celebration is...here you go somewhere and eat really salty food...ick) Anyway, after lunch the TV was on, and probably 3/4 of the Portuguese language international news program was about the US. A lot was about "Superterça" (Super Tuesday), which blew me away (the Republican winner at least). I understand that, who becomes the President of the US has implications for the world (which brings up another thought experiment: if the President of the US' actions affect people all over the world, should they be aloud to have a say in who the President is?) Anyway, no only was news of the presidential primary on, but also a piece on the 1st race up the stairs of the Empire State building, and the fact that the NY Giants won the Super Bowl. Someone please tell me why these last two are of any importance to the Lusophone world.

Feb 6, 2008 -I'm a LOTR fan now...finally

So the summer before senior year of high school, I bought all of the Lord of the Rings books and and attempted to read them. I got through the Hobbit and forced my way through half of the Fellowship, but finally put it aside. It was just too boring.

My senior year of college, I reread the Hobbit and once again bought the rest of the Trilogy...granted I got the Two Towers and Return of the King used for a dollar fifty each. Needless to say, I only got through the Fellowship and barely started The Two Towers.

I brought the Two Towers and Return of the King with me to CV. And again, barely read the books. The Two Towers I took with me to Christmas my first year, and it was that book which I used as an excuse to separate from the rest of the group and melodramatically sit on the ground, with my back against the wall, and cry (with the book open, so if anyone came in I could be reading) Anyway with my time here coming to a close and the journey still not complete, I decided to actually try to read it again. I forced myself through the first 5/6th of the book.

Suddenly, today, when I was reading, it became interesting. I found myself debating over whether I could leave 40 minutes later so as tyo finish the book. I just finished The Two Towers (it ends in a cliffhanger) and am anxious to start Return of the King.

It's just so weird: last night I was telling my friend how I was reading it just because it was popular: it's modern literature and it helps if you want to be culturally literate. It's also one of those books that is both considered a classic by girls and guys alike and has been widely read by people my age (and older and younger) (it's not like Pride and Prejudice, where girls really like it and most have read it, but guys are just like eh.)(also to be correct, I'm talking about the whole series) Now I'm actually enjoying it and will probably finish the Return of the King next week. It's actually sad, my journey with Frodo and Sam and Co. is ending at the same time as my journey with Peace Corps and Sam and Co.

"[Frodo's faithful servant, Sam Gamgee said] "The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because the wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that's not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually-their paths were laid that way, as you y put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn't. And if they had, we shouldn't know, because they'd have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on-and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right though not quite the same-like old Mr. Bilbo. But those arent always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we've fallen into?'

'I wonder,' said Frodo. 'But I don't know. And that's the way of a real tale. Take any one that you're fond of. You may know, or guess, what kind of a tale it is, happy-ending or sad-ending, but the people in it don't know. And you don't want them to.'"

The Two Towers by JRR Tolkien, pp. 407-408, italics and underlines mine.

Sorry to have been such a spaz and not updated...a combination of me refusing to use my pen drive (for fear of getting viruses) and not having the mental space to blog about my life. Instead of starting from when I got back, I just started writing about whatever's been going on. Enjoy! (or don't, whatevs)

Ants have invaded my house They were always around, but ever since I've gotten back, there's tons of them. You leave a crumb on the counter and they come out in full force. I've seen them on my computer (eww) and in rooms other than the kitchen. Arg. On the plus side I've seen fewer cockroaches. Yay! Where have all the eggs gone? When I got back, the moment I went shopping, I noticed that eggs were nowhere to be found. Even a month later, they are few and far between. I am told that it's not egg laying time for the chickens. I thought chickens laid eggs year round. Weird, but I like it. It helps you to remember that your food doesn't come from a Star Trek style Replicater, but rather from actual animals. My John Henry moment A part of the street was recently rebuilt. It was truly an interesting process to watch, and stupidly I didn't bring my camera to document it. The most striking thing/image of this whole process, the mental image that will stick in my mind forever, was what I call the John Henry moment, where for me history came back alive. I was walking home from work, midday, when I came upon the road. In front of me there were half a dozen guys and a big rock. Five of them were standing back, while one, bare chested with sledgehammer in hand, raised the hammer, pounded the rock, and repeated. I'm assuming he worked on it a while, and then the other guys went at it. History suddenly came alive....I was able to visualize the tale of John Henry much better, and it came to me that lots of people actually did this (do this) in America. Backbreaking work, in a dusty local, with a sledgehammer, one pound at a time. (The rock was roughly 2' wide, 6"-1' high and probably a couple feet deep, but I could be exaggerating...in any case it was a big rock. I certainly couldn't lift it if my life depended on it) Seeing relatively immediate results I've been teaching night school for people who are going back to get their GED. Since night school is all privately funded, if you teach there, they pay you separately from the regular (day) high school. One of the rules of Peace Corps Volunteers is that we can't receive monetary reimbursement for anything we do: Peace Corps pays us our living allowance, and we aren't allowed to earn any other money from work we do (although barter is still allowed: so if I started tutoring person X, me and that person could work out a deal where in return for an English lesson, they'd feed me dinner, which no one has ever offered to do :) ) For the night school, I've arranged to have them pay my wages to the library (as long as I never see any of the money, I can still get paid for work I do). Friday the head of the library gave me a big pile of books and told me to write "Donated by ______ (my name)" At first I didn't want to write my name in the books: I'm not teaching night school to leave a legacy of books with my name in it, I'm teaching because they need a qualified English teacher, it's an opportunity to interact with people I wouldn't otherwise, and because I have the time (plus with the exception of elementary school, I've now taught preschoolers, and middle schoolers through adults....kinda cool). However the librarian insisted that I write my name in the books, and I'm glad that she did. I added "Peace Corps Volunteer" after my name because without Peace Corps I definitely wouldn't be here and wouldn't have been able to donate the books. It was really nice to see that I will actually continue to have an impact when I'm gone, and one that is measurable: these books will be used for years, and without me they might not have had the resources to buy them (the library is relatively small, and the books are hugely applicable and interesting to students) Oh and if you are wondering, the books were varied: a big, huge Portuguese dictionary, two copies of the constitution of CV, a textbook on human rights, a huge (like 1000+ page) history of the Guinea Bissau-Cape Verde War for Independence (CV and Guinea Bissau fought the Portuguese together for Independence, and I think most of the fighting actually occurred in Guinea Bissau), a couple concise guides to various sciences, a sociology book, a book on computers, and a few others. I'm finally an I-Pod person, God help me For years, and years, and years, I've resisted. Even before I-Pods (or should I say "portable MP3 players) came along, I resisted getting a portable CD player. For that glorious semester I was running everyday, I resisted, relying instead on the music inside my head (which led me to mentally repeating one line over and over, but hey, I was way harder core than all those wimps listening to music, right?) I hate the way that headphones are used as a do not disturb sign for people. Granted I usually carry a book with me almost anywhere, but books don't make it physically impossible to hear someone, and can actually start conversation (it's a lot easier for a stranger to see the title of the book and comment on it, as opposed to "Oh, you have an MP3 player...how ubiquitous . What are you listening to?" or straining to look over someone's shoulder to catch a little glimpse of the screen and then comment on the music.) So right before I came to PC, I bought a little, 512 MB I-Pod Shuffle, and then gave my friend all of my CDs to send to my family (which subsequently got lost in the mail, arg, and yes I do know that I'm a BLiP (a bizarre little person)) I'd rediscovered it a while ago...the master plan was to give it away when I left, but curiosity got the best of me. I opened it. It's a nice, simple little device.... essentially a pen drive that you can plug headphones in. It doesn't even need a charger: it charges from the computer. Feeling like a slug, after the feast day yesterday, I decided to try to work out. A friend had lent us her Pilates DVD, but alas, I could only hear the music, I couldn't actually see it, so that was out. I could run in my house (go up and down the stairs, so people won't see me/talk to me and so dogs won't chase me.) For running to be sustainable, I'll need to use an MP3 player...If I'm running inside, I can't really sing to myself to keep myself psyched and keep myself interested (outside, the terrain takes away a little of the monotomy) Since I have a roommate who has a completely different schedule than me (she wakes up when I'm leaving to go to work) I can't use the radio for music. Anyway I take out the I-Pod and it seems pretty nifty. I put in the headphones and run a couple laps around my living room...this is definitely doable. And thanks be to God, it takes two hours to charge, so I won't be running today. Oh God, I've become an I-Pod person. This feels just like freshman year of college when I let go and started using instant messaging. Or when I got on MySpace (actually, I'm still not on, but when I do go on, I have a feeling it'll be similar. I got a kid suspended I have one class I call the class of devils (not to be confused with the class from hell which was last year) The school director's been in a couple times to admonish them and give them a talking to. Other teachers have problems with them, but obviously not as big as I do. She told me to give her reports on what the students are doing, and a couple Fridays ago I did just that. Not only that, but I had a fellow teacher translate for me and write it in Portuguese (as a sidenote, being here has given me a LOT more compassion for the illiterate, and immigrants, and teachers of every variety) In this one class, often the students that make the most noise are the smart ones: I go to slow, they get bored so they make noise. Plus the guys are in 9th grade, hormones firing every which way, which can be a bad combination. One of the smart yet poorly behaved boys came in and said a curse word in English. I've explained the significance of the f-word to them, and they know that if they say it they have to leave. I heard the boy say it and then asked him to leave. He wouldn't so I continued teaching (I've wasted so much time trying to get people who don't want to leave to leave and it usually just ends up showing how powerless I truly am) At various points, the kid would talk too much and I'd ask him to be quiet. He'd want to answer a question and I'd tell him that he didn't exist: afterall he was outside the class. During this class, I wrote down in English what was going on in the class: when I threw a kid out, I'd write down if he went, and why I threw him out. At one point the student who cursed walks up to the teacher's desk (mind you without permission) and reads what I wrote. He then looks at me, and tells me, in English, that he didn't say f*&k, but rather that he said f*&king s*&t , as if that made all the difference in the world. A few days later I learned that he'd been suspended for 3 days. While I felt bad for him, as if I'd been more consistent through the year and if I'd had better classroom management skills, he might not have said those words, I think it was deserved. I am his teacher and he needs to learn respect. I'm rich and so are my students I think if I had to teach high school in America, I'd teach civics or history. As a result of this inclination, I sometimes end up trying to make parts of my 5th year English classes like this by putting up information on the board for discussion during the 1st 10 minutes of class (while students are still settling in) I'm reading Joseph E. Stiglitz's Making Globalization Work. I quoted a sentence word for word on the board, so the students could realize that they are speaking real English (not just school/workbook English) The statistics were -80 percent of the world's population lives in a developing country-as of 2001 46.9% of Africa's population made less than $1/day, which is equal to 316 million people Rereading that paragraph, here's a couple more statistics: 40% of the world lives on less than $2/day, and a sixth of the world's population, or roughly 877 million people live on less than $2/day. Anyway, once the faster kids translated for the slower ones, a kid shot his hand up and said "Teacher, you are rich" and I said "Yeah, compared to you guys I am. Compared to other Americans no." It felt slightly awkward, so I decided to make the moment even more awkward. I told the class that compared to the Continent (in this case the Continent means the rest of Africa), they are rich. A couple kids tried to say no, but the faster ones shut them up (or should I say, explained to them). To drive the point home even more, I put up this statistic, that I got from a Newsweek article -1/6 people in the world does not have access to clean drinking water I asked how many of them had drinking water at their house (even if they had to get it from the community fountain) They all did. So they were better off than roughly 1 billion people. In essence they were richer than 1 billion people. It's something to think about. Fun exchange with neighbors I was at my neighbors' house, playing with their kid, when they offered me some cake and dolce de papaya (which I just recently discovered...it's like candied papaya, slightly burnt with cinnamon...yummy) I had some and they were like "Kumi mais" (Krioulu without translation intentional :) ) Me: Nåo, se N kumi mais, N ta fika gorda, e quando N ka podi arranja ku um Merkano, e ta fika faulta de nhos. to which they just laughed. Naturally this led to a discussion of namorados e pamodi N ka tene um. N fla-s ki N ta bai Merka na Agosto e N ka kre responsibilidade. Mais, N ka kre ser documento de um alguem. Depois, N fla-ski Deus ta arraja pa mi. It was nice, one of the ladies was like (in her language) If you ask God, he'll give to you. It was a comforting thought. They also said that I was one of them, and it's true: they are my family over here (plus the NGO-er) They also asked what did I like better, blacks or whites. This sounds bad, but they were talking about guys, and white doesn't necessarily mean "American/European" but rather can mean lighter skinned guys or darker skinned ones. I replied that black or white, it's just skin: it's what's your heart that's important. That led to an interesting discussion about one of their friends, a lighter skinned Cape Verdean who is living in Italy (from what I've heard it's quite a racist country), who has turned racist and will only date white/light skinned guys. The person has a hard time even shaking hands with a darker person. My first reaction (the unculturally sensitve part) was (to myself) that's just ridiculous: you're all black. The part of America that I'm from (not just location but socio-econ) classifies "black" as anyone looking of African origin (this is the same reasoning that puts Halle Barry and Barak Obama, both half black and half white, as famous BLACK people) However, after that millisecond of thought, everything I've learned here came into play and I got it: yes discrimination is wrong, but I do see how they can mark differences. I also told them that I was thinking of carrying around a picture of me with one of my guy friends to pull out whenever anyone hits on me (especially if they are drunk: it's not so much dangerous as annoying) They found the idea nearly as amusing as I do (coincidentally, I've run it by the guy friend, and he's like "You're using me," and I said "Yep." Loneliness Dja-N Txiga My roommate left for another island to celebrate Carnival. For me, the idea of sleeping on a floor (at another PCVs house) and going somewhere where I don't speak the language (there's a different Kriulu up north), just to get wasted, and dance with a lot of people I don't know, just really didn't appeal to me, so I decided to stay home. Anyway, it's three days in and I miss having another American here. Granted I have the NGOer (who is awesome and totally helped me out last night). It's just a lot easier to be reminded that your friends are a billion miles away when there's someone else to cook for. On the plus side, when I'm back in the States, wigging out because I'm jobless or whatever, I'll remind myself of times like these. Yesterday was my town's feast day. 7 or 8 time zones away it was also when two friends were having a joint birthday party in CA. I went to 8 houses and hung out and people were happy that I came by, but honestly, I'd probably have given that up to be beamed (Star Trek style) to CA to go to the party and be with friends my age and my culture. I guess ideally the party'd be here, with all the Americans hanging out with people here and then later in the night retiring to my house to party. I tried to call my friends to wish them a happy birthday, but that didn't happen. Although I DID chat online with a couple good friends which was really nice. One was like "Wow it must be really hard not being able to keep in touch with your family and friends" and it'd have been really nice had I been able to say "No, I'm used to it now" but the annoying thing, it's only partially true. I'm in the 2nd world...ie there are phone lines to America, and the internet; I CAN call America from my house, but it's $2/minute (you can get a good lunch a restaurant for like $4 or $5, just to put things in perspective); internet isn't cheap enough for me to have it in my house, but it's here so I can go to an internet cafe and use it, it's just different enough to really remind me that I'm not in the States. Anyway being so far away is difficult. I went home and couldn't really sleep...at school there was a geometry problem that I couldn't solve (it's Math month, so mindteasers are all over school)...so as to prove that I'm not a complete idiot I opened up my GRE prep book and started doing math problems at like 11pm. BLiP nerd alert! Errata Stuff that got cut from the I-Pod person one: read at your own risk...if not, just continue to something else....(and yes I get the hypocrisy of me not wanting to say hi to people in the street after I went on about why MP3 players are bad (because they make it harder for strangers to talk to you), but the big difference is, it's my job to talk with people here: I live in a small town and if you are running and forget to wave to someone or don't respond/yell back they get angry and you'd hear about it, and that's just no good; plus in the states you can run with relative anonymity...here if I started running outside, everyone would comment on it, and even seemingly innocuous comments could cause me to have a bad day (ie Wow, I saw you running. Is that the first time? (what is she saying I can't run?) Or "Are you running because you are worried about being fat when you go back to the States? Don't worry. Fofa is sexy. " I just might slap someone on a bad day for saying that)

Different

I’ve been back, vacationing in the States for just over a week now and I’ve come to the not so astonishing conclusion that things here are not better or worse but just different. Before this trip, when people (either in the States or CV) would ask me which was better, I’d say different but then give a list of pros and cons about each place (ie the US has reliable internet that I could have afforded in my house but a much faster pace of life), but now the only adjective to describe it is different.

The pace of life here is certainly faster…in CV an average day for me is teaching for maybe for hours and then doing what Americans would consider nothing else: cooking and relaxing after lunch for a bit, going down the street into town for an hour or two (to do food shopping and mingle and “chiga” (literally arrive but more like “hang out”) with friends and community members, back home, then back to the streets to play with my neighbors or lesson plan or make dinner. Then perhaps dinner and a DVD, with lesson planning maybe in there or phone calls concerning the newsletter or t-shirts. My friends here seem to constantly be go-go-going, especially during the weekdays (but they are amazing and took time out to hang with me…THANK YOU) gym to work or school all day (no time to go home and make a hot lunch) to errands to home to sleep. Wake up and repeat.

Along similar lines, I’ve become more relaxed about being on time. Before PC while I wasn’t always punctual, I would always stress out about being late: I couldn’t understand people who would just kinda meander and be like “we’ll get there when we get there, it’ll be fine” Now I am one of those people. I think I am almost chronically half hour late, the flip side being I don’t really stress out about it (the exception being travel). It’s actually quite an enjoyable space to be in.

CV also has some “customs” or cultural morays that I like which I wish we’d adopt. For example, the first thing you say to someone, almost always, is “How are you?” (in Kriulu or English depending on whether they are your student or not : ) ) You get in a cab, you say “How are you?”, you get in a bus, you sometimes say it (I mostly always do), you go to a restaurant you say it, etc etc. In Boston, they just don’t do that. Strangers would be taken aback when I would ask them. CA it was more accepted…while I don’t think that everyone there does it, people generally aren’t taken aback when you do, and they’ll chat nicely with you. What else…oh so when you walk in someplace (ie work, or a house or whatever) you always always personally greet everyone…it’s okay to interrupt a conversation to shake someone’s hand (not only is it okay, but it’s expected). Likewise when you leave, you do the same thing. At first I thought it was annoying, but now I like it. My sister had friends who spent the night one night and when they came in, I went down the line and shook each of their hands, and for a second was perplexed as to why others weren’t following my lead.

MORE TO COME LATER...

Within two hours of arrival at my friend's house, naturally Akon came up.

her: "Who's Akon?"

me: He's a big star. He sings.

her: So he's Cape Verdean?

me: No, he's from Senegal and is popular all over the world. I can't believe you don't know his songs. (I proceed to hum some more of his song and attempt to sing the words)

her: Nope, I never have heard it.

It's just weird to think that someone could not know this ubiquitous (sp?) song, one that is just normal to me, which I can half sing in my sleep. It's further proof that my culture is no longer that of the people I graduated college with.

More observations to come.

I'm half convinced that an Adviso (Notification) went out to everyone in my town telling them to play a joke on me and make me look and feel like an idiot.

Why?

Well, a couple days ago, being lazy, I put my hair into two braids (like pigtails but braids) This is one of those styles that reminds me of working on a farm in the South...when I wear my hair like this, I half expect Auntie Em to come fetch me and Toto because we need to husk some corn or something) So I walk down the street and people who know me are like "Emily, you are pretty. Who did your hair?" (this said in Kriulu) Or "Emily, abo e chic hoje!" Or "Teacher, you are very beautiful today" (said in English by a 12th grader) They even convinced me to wear it to work today, which I did. I got compliments on it.

I really am half expecting Ashton Kutcher to pop out from behind a hiace or a pastel stand and say "Emily abo dja Punk'd" (Emily, you were just Punk'd)

:)