Today is my last day in Italy. After watching "The Sound of Music" with the girls yesterday, I decided that I should celebrate the end of my adventure here by enjoying a few of my favorite things. After a delicious breakfast of toast with apricot jam and green tea with honey, I took a little walk into the city center of Staranzano. Today has been particularly warm compared to the generally wet and chilly days that we've been having here, making my Italian coffee (espresso) and biscotti all the more enjoyable as I sat outside reading "Anna Karenina" and people-watching one last time at my favorite cafe. My trip couldn't end without a glass of Amaro Nonino, a liqueur made right here in the Friuli region that I have previously enjoyed in San Francisco, so I mustered up the courage to ask for the tasty beverage in a nearby bar (my Italian is not what it once was). At 11:55 a.m., I was sipping a glass of the herbaceous goodness like any good Italian- the bartender found my little quest quite amusing, and exclaimed to those standing by, "Ah, an American asking for Amaro Nonino!"

Tomorrow I set out for a four day vacation in Berlin, where I will be reunited with my dear friend Lisa. I'm looking forward to bike rides, flea markets, vegan brunch, German beer, and unforeseen adventures in a new city with an old and dear friend.

It's funny how things mostly just pick up where they left off. Just as before, Marcello greeted me at the airport and drove me to the family home in Staranzano. As we drove through Friuli, I was excitedly scanning the countryside for signs of change, but was equally relieved upon realizing that everything was as I remembered. When we arrived at the house, the familiar smell was startling- How did I ever forget that scent? And how is it possible that such a scent alone evoked such a hodgepodge of emotions? Happiness, anxiety, love, hope, uncertainty, calm and a sense of inner peace. This was not just a smell that brought back memories of my prior experience here, but one that also reminded me of who I was the last time I was here and what I had learned about myself in this home. This time around, I plan on bottling up a bit of this to go. A dab on the wrist every morning should do the trick.

Gine returned home from school shortly after my arrival. There was a bear hug, of course, a few awkward moments of the polite catching up, of course, and then an immediate shift into where we had left off. It was as if I had never left. Like I was a completely normal fixture in this home. We all decided to surprise Luce by picking her up from school together. Cristina, Gine and I entered the classroom side-by-side. As I was scanning the room anxiously anticipating my reunion with her, Luce caught sight of Cristina and ran towards her with open arms. Just as she was approaching us, I called her name. She quickly changed her trajectory and jumped into my arms, simultaneously exclaiming, "Oh, hi!," followed by a round of giggles. I was told that my hair was "bigger," by which she meant longer, and that she liked it, and then that I had to meet her teacher. The most polite introduction was conducted by little Luce, nearly bringing me to tears from a mix of sadness that she had grown up since I last saw her and pride that she was so clever.

The past few days here have included a number of moments that have touched my heart, warmed it up, cooled it way down, and even broken it on a few occasions. That's the thing about kids- things change every minute. They're happy, then sad, then crying, then laughing, then screaming, and then suddenly telling you that they love you. Like it or not, just being around kids gives you the same mix of erratic emotions. This reminds me, I witnessed a kid in San Francisco last week who was so frustrated that he screamed and bit into a tree trunk on the sidewalk. His parents were so shocked and disturbed that they didn't know what to do. I totally get it. Sometimes all you can do is just bite a tree. Once your mouth is good and full of bark, that's when you know that someone's going to curl up beside you, hand over their favorite stuffed animal to keep you warm, and tell you that they want to be beside you for the whole day.

So what do we do around here besides cry, giggle and scream our heads off? We practice grammar, read books, play charades, put together puzzles, learn songs, decorate Easter eggs, play video games, have tickle wars, play Go Fish, act like monkeys (literally), and of course, take breaks to cuddle and eat cookies. It surely isn't a glamorous vacation, but I wouldn't trade these moments for anything in the world (fun fact: world was the word-of-the-day today, along with planet, Earth, and globe).

My next adventure begins tomorrow as I head back to visit my Italian family in Staranzano for the month of April. Updates to come.

I'm going home. Wow. I would like to begin by saying that I'm really happy with this decision and that I've received incredible support from Peace Corps staff, fellow volunteers, my host family, and my family at home. So now everyone can stop holding their breath and hopefully enjoy reading how this decision came about so abruptly.

I never made it to my site, but you can read all about that in my previous post. The house being ready "just now" turned into a month-long waiting game that left everyone a bit disillusioned and weary of the whole situation. Peace Corps thought it best to remove me from the site and place me elsewhere. As it turns out, there weren't really any alternate sites that would have created a better situation... I would write more on this matter but I don't particularly feel like pointing fingers or blaming anyone for what happened because, well, I'm happy. So we'll leave it at that.

These past several weeks in limbo gave me a lot of time to think. As it turns out, my experience with Peace Corps was not what I had expected. When I first applied for the Peace Corps 16 months ago, my life looked completely different than it does now. I wanted to do service work, that's a given for any PCV, but I also was hungry for new experiences in a new place. I had nothing holding me back. No commitments, no responsibilities, and no reasons to stay. It made sense to do this. Just as it made sense to join the Peace Corps all those many months ago, it now makes sense for me to go home. I've realized that being away from the love of my life for the next two years is an unfathomably daunting task. Call it fate, insanity, coincidence, divine intervention, or just my golden ticket out, but when things fell through with my site, I felt as if it all happened for a reason. Hence why I feel so good about this decision.

Guyana has taught me so much. No matter where you go, people are the same. Time isn't all that important and watches might just be a waste of money. Dogs and children are the loudest things on the planet, goats are the cutest. It is possible to sweat profusely 24/7, though not pleasant. There's nothing better than fresh coconut water on a hot day, coming home to the smell of curry cooking when you're hungry, huddling under a mosquito net with close friends to watch a movie, and telling Guyanese people about what you made for dinner and having them say, "Wha? You cook dat all in one pot?!" Oh, and having them ask you "Shopping, shopping?" when you're clearly shopping. I'll never forget gaffing with Anita over breakfast, life chats with Kristin (I promise that I'll try to not be so pretentious this time around ;)), Marsh's poetry recitations, days marked only by the number of pages colored in a coloring book, leading yoga sessions at the landing, nearly sinking in the Essequibo River, burning my fingers while attempting to properly clap roti, or singing "I Will Always Love You" to a random guy on the street (that's another story).

I'm coming home with only happy memories. Guyana came at the right time in my life and it taught me what's really important in life. Namely, love. Go figure, right? So if anyone wants to find me, I'll be in San Francisco. It's time for my next big adventure, but this time I won't be flying solo :) Wish me luck!

I'm going home. Wow. I would like to begin by saying that I'm really happy with this decision and that I've received incredible support from Peace Corps staff, fellow volunteers, my host family, and my family at home. So now everyone can stop holding their breath and hopefully enjoy reading how this decision came about so abruptly.

I never made it to my site, but you can read all about that in my previous post. The house being ready "just now" turned into a month-long waiting game that left everyone a bit disillusioned and weary of the whole situation. Peace Corps thought it best to remove me from the site and place me elsewhere. As it turns out, there weren't really any alternate sites that would have created a better situation... I would write more on this matter but I don't particularly feel like pointing fingers or blaming anyone for what happened because, well, I'm happy. So we'll leave it at that.

These past several weeks in limbo gave me a lot of time to think. As it turns out, my experience with Peace Corps was not what I had expected. When I first applied for the Peace Corps 16 months ago, my life looked completely different than it does now. I wanted to do service work, that's a given for any PCV, but I also was hungry for new experiences in a new place. I had nothing holding me back. No commitments, no responsibilities, and no reasons to stay. It made sense to do this. Just as it made sense to join the Peace Corps all those many months ago, it now makes sense for me to go home. I've realized that being away from the love of my life for the next two years is an unfathomably daunting task. Call it fate, insanity, coincidence, divine intervention, or just my golden ticket out, but when things fell through with my site, I felt as if it all happened for a reason. Hence why I feel so good about this decision.

Guyana has taught me so much. No matter where you go, people are the same. Time isn't all that important and watches might just be a waste of money. Dogs and children are the loudest things on the planet, goats are the cutest. It is possible to sweat profusely 24/7, though not pleasant. There's nothing better than fresh coconut water on a hot day, coming home to the smell of curry cooking when you're hungry, huddling under a mosquito net with close friends to watch a movie, and telling Guyanese people about what you made for dinner and having them say, "Wha? You cook dat all in one pot?!" Oh, and having them ask you "Shopping, shopping?" when you're clearly shopping. I'll never forget gaffing with Anita over breakfast, life chats with Kristin (I promise that I'll try to not be so pretentious this time around ;)), Marsh's poetry recitations, days marked only by the number of pages colored in a coloring book, leading yoga sessions at the landing, nearly sinking in the Essequibo River, burning my fingers while attempting to properly clap roti, or singing "I Will Always Love You" to a random guy on the street (that's another story).

I'm coming home with only happy memories. Guyana came at the right time in my life and it taught me what's really important in life. Namely, love. Go figure, right? So if anyone wants to find me, I'll be in San Francisco. It's time for my next big adventure, but this time I won't be flying solo :) Wish me luck!

I arrived on the Essequibo coast almost 3 weeks ago with the intention of moving into my new house and beginning my service. Things don't always go as planned. Life near the equator is strange. You see, there are no seasons. It's always summer. There are no mornings, no afternoons, and no evenings. When the sun rises, it rises all the way, and when it sets, well, it just sets. Complete darkness in a matter of seconds. Everything in between is just midday.

I had to make a trip to Georgetown on Saturday to retrieve some packages from home that were being held at the post office. My watch stopped working at 11:20 a.m. and I spent the entire day having no clue what time it was. Before I caught on, I actually thought it was 11:20 for most of the day! As I was taking the speedboat home, I thought that it could be any time between 2 and 6 p.m. I forget sometimes that time even exists because there are no indicators. It's permanently noon on a hot summer day. That being said, no one is in a hurry to finish my house.

Further proof that time is irrelevant in Guyana is the phrase "just now." What does "just now" mean? Well, it means that something is going to take place in an unspecified time period. For instance, you may ask a mini-bus driver when his bus is going to leave. "Just now, Miss, just now." You may wait 1 minute, or 10, or 20, or an hour. You never really know. You may ask someone what time dinner will be ready. "Just now." When a meeting will start. "Just now." Or even when your house will be ready so that you can move into your community and start work. "Just now."

I realize that I may be coming across as frustrated or annoyed but I'm not at all. I've learned a lot about acceptance over these past few months. Sometimes you just have to let go of all expectations. You simply have to live in the present moment. Once you stop thinking about what's even going to happen in the next 10 minutes, "just now" makes perfect sense. In the States, our days are almost always predetermined. We have the whole day mapped out before we even get out of bed. The alarm goes off at a specific time. We leave for work at a specific time. We clock in at a specific time. We take lunch. We go home. We cook dinner. We watch the evening news. And before you know it, it's bedtime. Things are different when time doesn't exist. The sun comes up, you get out of bed. Once you finish the morning chores, you go to work. When you get hungry, you go home for lunch. Start to get restless in the afternoon? Workday is over. You cook when you're hungry. You sleep when the mosquitoes are hungry. It's simple. What you don't get done today, you can get done tomorrow. No deadlines, no timelines, no schedules. You just live life.

Farewell for now, all you slaves of the clock. I promise to write again just now.

Hello to all! Here is what I believe will be my address for the next two years. Please send ALL mail and packages to this address from this day forward- Don't send anything else to the Embassy or Peace Corps Office because neither will be cleared now that I'm out on my own. Thanks!

Whitney Miley

Mashabo Village

c/o: Suddie Post Office

Suddie, Essequibo Coast

Guyana, South America

I love and miss you all!

The hardest part of coming to Guyana to serve in the Peace Corps was saying goodbye to everyone I know and love at home. I experienced the same sadness and feeling of loss when I left my host family this morning in preparation for the big move to my site on Thursday. They really have become my family. I now have families on 3 different continents- I have my actual family in the States, my family in Italy, and now a family in Guyana. I feel so overwhelmingly loved and blessed. Traveling in and of itself is great, but nothing compares to the experience of becoming a part of a family abroad. I have been showered with constant love, affection, support, and appreciation over the past 8 weeks. Anita refers to me as her first-born American daughter- she says that even if/when she has other PCTs stay with her in the future, I'll always be the first and most special :)

I've had countless wonderful experiences over the past two months of training, but this weekend has by far been the most memorable time spent in St. Cuthbert's. We held a Family Appreciation ceremony on Friday night. I was in charge of all of the planning and organizing for the event- I quickly fell into my old role as caterer :) Along with a few other friends, I made pineapple salsa that was to die for! So tasty! We didn't have tortilla chips so we just ate it with cassava bread, an Amerindian staple. It actually turned out to be more reminiscent of bruschetta once the cassava bread soaked up the salsa and it got a bit softer. Family Appreciation was followed by Culture Day on Saturday. The highlights were our group singing the national anthem in harmony (it was actually quite good), a feast of delicious food shared by the entire community, and a rousing game of cricket that was kicked off by yours truly. That's right, I was first to bat! I was apparently quite entertaining to watch- the entire community was rolling with laughter :) Anita told me afterward that she had never seen me smile so big, laugh so hard, or make such funny jokes (Casey and Lisa, are you guys reading this? See, I did come to the Peace Corps and get funny!). I'd call it a successful day :)

Yesterday was my last day with my host family. Anita took me to the landing along with Robern, some other family members, and a few of the trainees. We spent the day gaffing, drinking Banks, grilling chicken, frying plantains, swimming in the river, making jokes, and soaking up the sun. It was the best picnic ever :) And no one worry, I didn't eat chicken (although it was tempting...)! I don't think that I've ever consumed so many calories in one day. Anita made me a huge lunch before we even went out to the landing. It was probably the best meal that I've ever had- daal and rice with curried pumpkin and bok choy. She also roasted some peanuts... Oh, and we had guava, grapefruit, and homemade guacamole! Needless to say, I've been detoxing today and have only eaten fruit.

I had no idea just how much my host family loved me until today. Robern had huge tears rolling down his cheeks when I told him goodbye this morning. He was so upset that he couldn't even look at me. I asked him if he was crying because he was going to miss me and he just nodded his head. I wish that I could've packed him up and taken him with me. Anita wasn't much better. I found comfort in knowing that I'll see her again on Wednesday for the swearing-in ceremony. That't the only reason I was able to hold it together. All of our host families walked us into the Mission to see us off. Somehow all of us managed to cram inside one truck. Let's just say that I've never been so uncomfortable in my life. I got a call from Anita a few minutes ago. She just wanted to make sure that I had made it to town safely and that I had been fed a proper lunch :) What am I going to do without that woman?!

The first part of my journey is complete. Training is over. I survived, I flourished, and I thrived. I can't wait to start my service! I almost forgot to mention, the village council in Mashabo decided to build me a new house! Life is sweet (pineapple is sweeter :)).

(March 25, 2011)

Last night was one of the best nights of my life. You don't realize what you have until you step away from it for a while. You learn to miss it. You feel its absence. When the PC truck dropped me off in front of my host family's house in the training community yesterday evening, I felt as if my heart might explode. I heard Anita's voice call out to me from the kitchen and immediately dropped my bags, kicked off my shoes, and felt my entire body sigh with relief when I turned the corner and first saw her vibrant, lively face. We gaffed in the kitchen for hours. We ate pumpkin until we were satisfied and laughed until we had worked it all off. I then took what was the most refreshing bath of my life. A bucket bath, indeed, but I had never felt so clean. I stood completely naked for the first time in 5 days. I had never felt so free, so new, so whole. The anticipation of sleep was almost unbearable. My tired, neglected, and starved body crawled into bed, which might as well have been the palm of God's hand, and I experienced solitude as I never had before. I was alone for the first time in what seemed like a century. No need to think, feel, say, do, or be anything. I just was. I just am.

Self awareness is a slice of humble pie. I thought I really knew myself before I left home, but trust me, you have no idea who you are until you're no longer you. When you open the door of an outhouse and find yourself thinking, "Hey, not bad," you're not you anymore. When you hold a plastic babydoll in your arms and practice breastfeeding so that you can counsel nursing mothers and you think, "Wow, I really do want to have a baby one day," you're not you anymore. When you see a chicken strolling along the road in front of you and your protein-starved self thinks, "Yeah, maybe chickens are food," you definitely are no longer you. When you laugh at how pretentious you were for thinking that living in the bush for two years was somehow your duty to humanity, you are no longer you. You're actually more of yourself than you ever thought possible. You're the real you for the first time in your life. All you can do is laugh at how human you are, how conventional you've always been, and how okay you are with just being normal for the rest of your life.

My site visit was comparable to an episode of Gilligan's Island. I've been assigned to a tiny Amerindian lake community just inland from the Essequibo coast. It takes a mini-bus, a speedboat, two taxis, and another speedboat to get to my village from Georgetown. The journey was interesting enough having only a backpack, a duffel bag, and a life jacket to lug around, so I'm not exactly looking forward to traveling back to my village with all of my stuff, plus a mattress, a two-burner stove, a propane tank, a bucket filtration system, and anything else that I collect along the way. I'll be sure to document the misadventure when the time comes. But there is light at the end of the tunnel: my village is almostly painfully beautiful. Seriously, it's a tropical paradise. I have a waterfront view from my house with palm trees and lush greenery everywhere. It's isolated, completely undeveloped, pristine in its natural beauty, and almost hauntingly quiet.

My house is in the process of being built. It's actually a pavilion that's being converted into a very simple wooden house with a single bedroom and a small sitting area. The decision to convert the pavilion into a house was strategic- it's located right next door to the primary school's kitchen, meaning that my kitchen is the school cafeteria. I'm hoping that I'll at least get a few free lunches out of the deal... It looks like I'll be having the PC experience that I always anticipated- I'll have an outhouse, a washroom to take bucket baths, a rain tank to collect the water that I'll use for bathing, cooking, washing, and drinking, no internet, and no electricity. On the plus side, I will have cell phone reception and the community is placing a small solar panel on my roof, so maybe (fingers crossed) I'll have enough power to have one small bulb and to keep my cellphone and netbook charged. My village feels super isolated, but I'm actually not too far from a cluster of other volunteers along the Essequibo Coast. I also have fairly decent access to several markets and shops in nearby towns.

OK, so let's get to the good stuff... The holy job description... It's almost too good to be true. My village has a small health post with two Community Health Workers (CHWs). One of them is a trained midwife and has been single-handedly delivering all of the babies in the community for the past 17 years. In that time, she's only had to refer 5 mothers to the regional hospital. Pretty impressive, right? So this isn't necessarily part of my job description, but we currently have five pregnant women and I'll be assisting with all of the deliveries! I'm super excited! Back to the job description... Nutritional counseling/education is a huge need in my community. Because the village is so isolated and it's quite costly to get into town, most of the villagers have very poor nutrition. Here's an example of what I was fed one day in site, which can be described as the typical diet of the community: for breakfast I had two huge rotis with channa and porridge (like oatmeal), lunch consisted of an insane mound of white rice with potato curry, a pine tart served as a snack, and dinner (the most painful dinner of my life) was more roti with a plethora of chow mein. My poor belly was swollen for the rest of the week :( In order to save the bellies of my fellow villagers, the CHWs and I will be constructing home gardens throughout the village. Yay for veggies! But it gets better. Family planning and sex education are are at the forefront of the work expected of me. Teen pregnancy is as common in my village as it is in Bartow County. And better yet, the CHWs said that I don't have to teach abstinence-only sex ed! Yay for more young girls taking care of their bodies and staying in school!

My site visit invoked some major fears, doubts, anxieties, and self-realizations that just continued to cumulate throughout the week, as I had zero privacy or time to process everything that was happening around me, to me, and within me. The only time I was alone for 5 days was when I used the latrine. I bathed in the creek morning and night with my host sister. I ate with my host family. I napped in the hammock with a host family member or neighbor only steps away from me. I even slept in the bed with my host sister. There was never time to think, to process, to debrief, or even to relax. Alone time has been very much utilized since returning to the training site. I'm feeling back to myself, my new self, that is. I feel good. I feel ready. And most importantly, I've learned not to take myself so seriously.

I'm writing this post from my modest bedroom in St. Cuthbert's Mission, veiled by a partially functioning mosquito net, clad in my favorite pj pants (which I've had since I was 16) and my boyfriend's t-shirt, and listening to one of my favorite albums, Bon Iver's "For Emma, Forever Ago." This is the closest I'm going to get to home right now. I've been neglecting my blog for these past few weeks not because I haven't had anything to say, but because I didn't really know how to start recounting all of the experiences I've already had here in Guyana. The first three weeks here have flown by, making me realize that I should start writing now before I forget some of these experiences. So here goes.

In order to more effectively prepare us for the experience we will have in Guyana, Peace Corps divided our training group into two camps- urban/coastal and remote. I was sent to the remote training site, St. Cuthbert's Mission, along with 11 other trainees. Throughout the weeks, our remote training group has diminshed to only 7 trainees. The rest of the 20-30 something (I've already lost count!) trainees are along the coast in West Demerara. I'm quite content to be here in St. Cuthbert's. It's a small Amerindian community with a population of approximately 1,500 people, located in Region 4 of Guyana. I have a fantastic host family! I live with my host mom, Anita, my host dad, Linden, my host brother, Kimmon (16), and host nephew, Robern (7). Unlike the other shy and reserved women in St. C, Anita is confident, out-spoken, and full of life and positive energy. Linden is a miner and travels into the hinterland regions for work, so I haven't seen much of him, but I do know that he's an excellent conversationalist, is very attentive, and is quite the pastry chef. Kimmon received his teaching certification and now teaches at the local secondary school. He's a super smart kid, very mature for his age, and constantly listens to music on his mp3 player. Robern is a pretty cool little kid. I never knew that a 7 year old could be so self-sufficient! Lately I've been reading with him during the day or after dinner- he does great in math but seems to have fallen through the cracks in reading. I've made getting him up to speed my own little project while I'm here in the community.

I spend most of my "free" time helping Anita in the kitchen or doing daily chores, but there's always a few minutes each day to spend lounging in the hammock with a good book. Time moves slowly here but there's always so much to do! Simple chores like bathing, washing clothes, preparing meals, and tidying up take a huge chunk out of the day. On a typical day, I wake by 6:00 a.m., practice yoga outside for about half an hour, take a bucket bath, dress, and eat breakfast (usually fried plantains or a boiled egg with fresh orange juice) before heading to training sessions at 8:00 a.m. At the end of the day, I get home just in time to help Anita with dinner. I can now make four types of Guyanese bread: roti, dry bake, oil bake, and fry bake (roti is my favorite). My favorite Guyanese dishes are the curries- I can make a mean potato and eggplant curry, and pumpkin curry with roti is one of the best meals that I've ever had. Oh, and the chickpeas (which the Guyanese call channa) are delicious anytime of the day- I particularly enjoy them for Sunday brunch :) There's also no shortage of fresh fruits here- pineapples, mangoes, paw-paw (papaya), bananas, oranges, coconuts, and passion fruit are a few of the things you can literally find just lying around. We have orange and coconut trees in our own backyard. In case anyone was wondering, grating coconut is not for the faint of heart- it's quite the workout!

Our training sessions have been going well. Today I gave my first health talk at the local health post and was very pleased with how things went. The talk was on family planning (my favorite health topic) and the birth control methods available to the community in St. Cuthbert's. We had an audience of about 15 secondary school students and a few young adults. I never thought that after only 3 weeks in country I'd be standing in front of a group of Amerindian teenagers talking about pregancy prevention and how to effectively use condoms, considering that Amerindian communities are known to be extremely conservative and that the schools have no existing sex education curriculum, so I'm ecstatic that the topic went over so well! The community health workers have requested that our health trainees present further talks on the topics of HIV/AIDS, other STIs, and drug and alcohol abuse. I finally feel like I'm actually doing something here, which is a wonderful (and much needed) feeling.

As I was walking home this afternoon, I was approached by a woman in the community who had heard through the grapevine (which is quite extensive around these parts) that I needed a pair of slippers to wear around the house. I had never met her before, but she came running out of the house when she saw me passing by, measuring tape in hand, and quickly introduced herself before she proceeded to lean down and measure my dirty feet. She asked me if I prefered any particular pattern and if I needed them by any specific time, to which I answered no to both questions. She replied that she already had the fabric picked out for me and that I would have the slippers by tomorrow. This must be how celebrities feel during the award's season. I continued to walk home with a grin on my face and an added hop in my step when I heard a little voice call out my name in a half-giggle, half-shrill of excitement. I looked up to see the bright, pretty face of a little 4 year old girl who lives down the street. I smiled, waved back, and walked away with a warmed heart, tears in my eyes, and an even bigger smile on my face. Today was some kind of small accomplishment. Here's hoping for many more.

I've been in Guyana since Tuesday morning and have already had to take a sick day. It was really nothing, but Peace Corps apparently takes a lot of precautions when it comes to keeping their volunteers healthy. The group left out yesterday afternoon to meet their host families at the training sites, but my vomitting self didn't make the bus. I'm totally fine now, and probably would've been alright had I gone ahead with the rest of the group, but PC thought it best to keep me and two other sick trainees around in Georgetown for a few days. I feel great today! I think my body is just having a little difficulty adjusting to a new diet- I've been eating a lot of sugar, probably some MSG (they put it in everything here), and I'm pretty sure that dairy has been sneaking its way into my tummy.

The sick days haven't turned out to be so bad. We weren't allowed to leave the hotel during our first week in Georgetown, so we were all going a bit crazy and were anxious to see what Guyana is all about. One of the current PCVs is still in town and has been taking us sick ones out and about the city. We ate lunch this afternoon at JR's- a little burger joint that has VEGGIE BURGERS! and french fries :) There's also a Mediterranean restuarant in these parts that has hummus and tabouleh. I'll probably head that way in a bit for dinner. We also peeked into a video store that sells pirated DVDs from the States. I got my hands on copies of Black Swan, The Kids are All Right, Winter's Bone, and Rabbit Hole. It should be easy to keep myself entertained around here.

I'll be heading off to St. Cuthbert's Mission on Monday morning to meet my host family and to reunite with the other trainees. It looks like it'll be a month or so before we come back to Georgetown, so in the meantime, please send letters to keep in touch.

Peace.

(*Please check my previous post for updated information regarding my mailing address.)

Day three's training sessions have come to an end here in Georgetown. So much has happened in so little time, but I'll do my best to touch on all of the highlights. When we arrived in Guyana on Tuesday morning, we were greeted by many of the current PCVs, who all looked surprisingly refreshed and energized, despite the heat and humidity. Maybe they were just excited to meet us, but I jotted it down as a sign that I won't look like such a glazed donut once I learn to take care of myself in this strange place known as the "land of many waters." So it was bit cliche, I do realize, but I immediately felt like I was in the tropics when one of the PCVs handed me a young coconut and a banana :) It was a delicious and nutritious breakfast (another good sign).

The past few days we've been in training sessions designed to orient us to our projects and prepare us for living with a Guyanese host family during our 9-weeks of PST (pre-service training). I, along with 11 other PCTs (PC Trainees), have been assigned to a remote training site called St. Cuthbert's. The rest of the 20 or so PCTs have been assigned to a coastal/"urbanish" site in West Demarara. We're all a little bummed that we have to be separated from the rest of the group so early, but I'm confident that there will be some advantages to having such an intimate training class. And yes, this means that I'll more likely than not be placed in a remote site for my two years of service. "Remote" can mean one of a few things- I will likely be more isolated from the coastal region and probably won't have running water, electricity, etc., but I could very well be placed in a "city" that's only considered remote due to its geographic location. I should receive my placement in a few weeks, so I'll try to keep everyone posted as I know more.

I've particularly enjoyed getting to know the current PCVs who are assisting in our trainning. They have offered incredible advice and insight! It's great to see how calm and collected they all are (another good sign), as well as how confident they are in their jobs and with their integration into their communities. It's a bit trippy to think that I will be in their shoes one year from now! But I have a lot of ground to cover in the meantime.

We passed today's morning session discussing our role as community developers in Guyana and how our work will fit in to the country's existing development strategies and goals. I am so relieved to learn that we actually have a very thorough and accessible community health care plan to follow. My first three months at site will be focused on Goal 1 objectives- assessing (alongside my counterpart) the community's needs through observation and discussions with the local people. Basically, I have to figure out what the community wants to cultivate before I know which seeds to plant. As tough as this job is going to be, I'm comforted in knowing that I won't be doing it alone (if done correctly), but rather with my entire community.

Oh, and the phrase cook-up-rice is a Guyanese phrase that refers to throwing everything all together (if I understood it correctly), as in Peace Corps has thrown a ton of information at us these past few days. I look forward to sharing more once I finally get out of this hotel and into my host community for training. It's getting a little cabin feverish around here. Well, consider this my last post for at least several weeks.

Rest assured that I'm healthy, happy, and eating plenty of chana (chickpeas, as we know them). Namaste, my friends. Be good in the land of plenty.

Hello, hello! I'm super busy preparing for my departure, so I'll keep this brief and promise to write more in the coming days. Here's a quick rundown of what's going on- I leave on Sunday for the PC Guyana staging event in Philadelphia. After an orientation and brief overview of things on Monday, we will take a bus to JFK and will fly to Georgetown late that evening, arriving in country early Tuesday morning. Ah! I can't believe that I'll be in Guyana in only 6 days!

If anyone is interested in sending something through regular mail (excluding Fed Ex packages) during my first two months of training, you can reach me at this address:

Whitney Miley, PCT

Peace Corps

PO Box 101192

Georgetown, Guyana

South America

Please note that this is NOT my permanent address in Guyana. After two months of training, I will move to my final placement site, at which time I will post my new address.

If you'd like to send a care package at any point during the two years using a service such as Fed Ex, you will need to send it to the PC office in Georgetown. You will need both the street address and the telephone number:

33A Barrack Street

Kingston, Georgetown, Guyana

South America

When calling from the U.S., the number is 011-592-225-5073.

More to come... Thanks for all of the continued encouragement, support, thoughts, and prayers.

It hit me today that I only update this blog when I'm traveling, experiencing something novel, or want to let everyone in on the latest news regarding my Peace Corps placement, but life is happening everyday amidst the chaos that surrounds a life in transition. My life is in transition, and yes, this makes me feel a little uncomfortable. It has been strange living here and there, depending on the charity of friends and family to have a place to sleep and food to eat, especially after a recent years of independence and self-sufficiency. That being said, these past few months have made me very humble and appreciative for the people that I have in my life. I'm so grateful that I've been able to spend more time with my family and friends over the holidays, something that I was not anticipating at all. Karma has been good to me.

After all of the heartache and confusion that it originally caused, I'm glad that I'm here and not in Guinea right now. It turns out that right here is where I'm meant to be at the moment. I'm more than okay with that. Sure, I live for adventure and excitement, and I value spontaneity above all else, but sometimes it's good when life forces you to slow down and take a look at your own backyard, so to speak. I spent all summer long trying to cultivate inner peace, calm and awareness, but I gave up my quest for enlightenment as soon as I crossed back over the Atlantic. It's about time that I realize that I can be just as complete here as I can be anywhere else in this world.

I'm heading to Athens this weekend for the New Year's festivities and I fully intend to blow the lid off the city. My love affair with Athens continues on... I'm looking forward to a glass of Terrapin Rye Pale Ale, a plate full of anything smothered with the Grit's yeast gravy, followed by a slice of chocolate death cake and a stroll along the soured streets of downtown, accompanied by the hum of drifters and dreamers offering their souls to anyone who cares to take a moment to feel. To feel anything of significance. I'm gonna sway and drift and dream and hum with the best of them.

Life just keeps getting crazier. As many of you know, PC Guinea was cancelled and I've been reassigned to serve in Guyana, South America. I'll be honest, the past few days have the toughest part of this whole experience so far. I didn't want to say goodbye to Guinea, in fact, I still am having a difficult time letting it go. I've spent months preparing to serve in Guinea- I've studied French, read up on the history, followed the election in the news, connected with volunteers who have served or were going to serve in Guinea, as well as constantly imagined what my life would be like there. And now it's gone. Just like that.

I've also mourned for the people of Guinea. There is such a need in the country that I'm afraid will only further be ignored and neglected under the immediate strain of its political situation. I can't help but feel selfish. I'm upset that I can't get into the country, when I'm sure that many Guineans wish that they had a way out. On a more positive note, Guinea is heading in the right direction. The Guineans have finally had their voices heard and now have the ability to hold their government accountable for its actions. Nonetheless, I can't help but envy the PCVs who'll get to go to Guinea when all of this stabilizes.

And now Guyana! I never in a million years thought that the PC would send me to South America, but they have. Initially, I was totally sold on Guyana. My placement officer told me that I would be doing Health Ed with an opportunity to work in schools with kids, something that I had demonstrated a strong interest in during the application process. However, I was very disappointed that I wouldn't be going to Africa or putting to use all of the French that has been collecting chaotically in all corners of my mind for the past several months. After speaking with my PO again and asking her for more options, she offered me an assignment in Morocco. I've always dreamed of going to Morocco, but after reading over the Welcome Book for the country, I realized that I was at best unprepared to serve there. It's imperative that PCVs in Morocco already have a strong background in French, as PST (pre-service training) focuses on acquiring language skills in Arabic. Cool, yes, but yikes! All in all, I believed that Guyana was a better fit for me.

So here's what I know about Guyana. It's located on the northeastern coast of South America, bordering Brazil, Suriname and Venezuela. The climate is tropical- hot, humid, and rainy. The country is very ethnically diverse, mostly being comprised of African and Indian immigrants. The official language is English, but Guyanese Creole is widely spoken (I'll be taught Creolese during PST:)). Because so many Guyanese are of Indian descent, Hinduism is widely practiced, meaning that vegetarianism is common and accepted :) Also, there will be an unlimited supply of coconuts!

My primary project is Community Health Education Promotion. From what I've read, Guyana doesn't have a developed or functioning health care system. In fact, there are few doctors or health care professionals available to the Guyanese that live in more rural areas of the country. Because of this, there are high maternal and infant mortality rates. Guyana also has a high rate of HIV transmission, as well as other diseases. My primary job will be to teach preventive health measures and to promote behavioral change. I will most likely be working in a school district, but I'll also have the opportunity to work in health centers or with NGOs.

That's all I have for now. I'll post again a little closer to departure time.

They meant it when they said that serving in the Peace Corps requires dedication, patience, and flexibility. Due to the recent presidential election in Guinea, Peace Corps Guinea has been delayed until January 13 (tentatively). Guinea has been in the process of completing its first democratic election for many months now, but not without complications. The unofficial results of the election were announced today, naming Alpha Conde as Guinea's president. At the moment, I cannot say whether this outcome is good or bad, but it has further deepened ethnic cleavages between two of Guinea's most prominent ethnic groups, the Malinke and the Peul. A conference call for all Peace Corps Guinea invitees has been scheduled for next week... Stay tuned for updates concerning the election results and my eventual departure.

As part of my pre-departure "homework," PC requested that I submit an aspiration statement. In all honesty, this was quite a daunting task. I'm trying to enter my service with as few expectations as possible, as expectations tend to render limitations and disappointments. Despite my fear of anticipation, I believe that my statement clearly defines what I hope to accomplish in Guinea, or at least illustrates what I intend to consider while developing my work strategies. The real truth is that I have no idea what to expect and I'm happy for it. (Thanks for editing, Nate.)

_ _

A: As I have read the provided documents that describe Guinea’s professional environment, the prevalence of grassroots efforts to solve pressing social issues has greatly excited and intrigued me. I firmly believe that lasting change and social betterment are only possible through motivating and empowering individuals to take the lead in solving urgent social problems. Following in the spirit of this “bottom-up” approach, I hope to contribute both effective leadership skills and a strong dedication to collaboration and cooperation among my counterparts and my community. As important as dedication, thoroughness, and resourcefulness are in the professional environment, I feel that no professional attributes are more significant than the ability to encourage and motivate others to contribute to the problem-solving process, as this is the only way to ensure that social projects are effective and sustainable.

B: I believe that working effectively within a prescribed environment first requires a thorough examination and understanding of its many social facets. I cannot state that I have enough knowledge of Guinea’s culture, social issues, or health-related institutions to adapt a strategy for effectively working within the country’s health sector that would appropriately address the problems that will be unique to my host community and counterparts. For that reason, flexibility and creativity will undoubtedly be key features in any strategy that I develop towards working effectively within my host community. As of now, my strategy is to remain open to new ideas and problem-solving techniques, to be responsive to the needs and concerns of my community and counterparts, and to remain flexible and able to quickly adapt to new strategies and additional social problems that may arise during my service.

C: My ability to adapt to the Guinean culture will undoubtedly be a significant factor in the effectiveness of my work. In any society, cooperation is only possible in an environment of mutual respect and understanding. Adapting to a new culture is not nearly as daunting as the possibility that my own culture could be unaccepted or misunderstood within my host community. I believe that adherence to cultural norms will be crucial in demonstrating respect towards my host community and establishing trust between us, however different they may be from my own cultural background. Once respect and trust have been established, I hope that my community partners and neighbors will be more interested in learning about my own culture. My intention is to address and discuss cultural diversity in a way that highlights the unique qualities of our cultures rather than the differences between them- differences which often imply incompatibility.

D: I look forward to completely immersing myself in all things Guinean during the pre-service training. Language proficiency will definitely be my top priority, as it is difficult to effectively work within a community without communicating in a common language. I foresee that this language accumulation will be quite a challenge, as I have only begun studying French in the past few months and must master proficiency in it and the local language of my host community prior to beginning my service. I have always been a bit self-conscious when it comes to communicating in a second language, but I am entering this situation fully aware that communication will be the key aspect of my project and necessitates much courage, dedication, confidence, and humility on my part. I anticipate that living with a host family will teach me how to thrive within Guinean society, as well as provide a sense of community and friendship that will encourage me to greet future obstacles with a strong and open heart.

I also intend to use the pre-service training period as a time to educate myself on Guinea’s health institutions and general perceptions towards health care. As my experience in the health care field is limited to the social aspects surrounding HIV and AIDS, I have much to learn about preventive health and education. I view my inexperience in the more scientific aspects of health and disease as a positive thing, as it will allow me to develop preventive health strategies that are unique to the needs of my host community rather than fixated on Western-specific norms. Therefore, I hope to gain a full understanding of Guinea’s specific health care needs so that I can effectively promote behavioral change among my partners and neighbors.

E: My Peace Corps service in Guinea will be the first significant step towards a life dedicated to combating social injustices, providing others with imperative information related to health and well-being, and ensuring that all people have access to resources that support and sustain healthy lives. Some may argue that these goals are naïve and unrealistic, but I cannot imagine leading a life that did not incorporate a commitment to the greater good of humanity. I have always planned to pursue a career in social work but with my placement as a Health Educator in Guinea, I anticipate further involvement in the fields of public health and education when I return home after my service.

It is likely that my service with the Peace Corps will be the most challenging and demanding experience of my life. I look forward to the personal growth and awareness that will inevitably stem from such exceptionally intriguing, challenging, and rewarding work. I am confident that through my service in Guinea, I will find strength in myself that even now I do not know that I possess. This strength and self-realization will serve unquestionably as a foundation for my future endeavors.

I just accepted my invitation to serve with the PC as a Health Educator in Guinea, a French-speaking country on the coast of West Africa... more updates to come.

It's officially time to set Italian aside and dedicate all of my efforts to learning (hopefully mastering) French. I received a call from my Peace Corps placement officer yesterday. He followed up on some of the concerns that I expressed in my original interview back in February. We spent a long time discussing my diet and whether or not I'm willing to adhere to the advice/demands of my PC medical provider. Apparently, the doc will have the final say on what I do and do not eat or I will be sent home. Just the thought of eating an animal makes me cry. This will definitely be my biggest challenge... and without further ado, I guess I should disclose what I know of my final placement. I'm definitely going to francophone sub-Saharan West Africa, my placement is definitely rural health care, and I'm definitely leaving either in mid-October or the first of December. I should know the exact location and departure date by next week. The key word in my placement is "rural"- my PO (placement officer) stressed the importance of learning French before my departure, as my in-country training will focus on the local language of my village. Rosetta Stone, please come through for me. It's hard to believe that in only a few months I will be able to speak four languages.

In the meantime, I'm enjoying life back in Athens. Saying goodbye to my Italian little sisters was probably the most emotionally wrenching thing that I've ever experienced. Only a few days after my return to the States, I headed off to Lollapalooza in Chicago along with two good friends, Casey and Lisa. We experienced a crazy three days of incredible music, with notable performances by The National, Arcade Fire, The Dirty Projectors, MGMT, Grizzly Bear, and Lady Gaga (I never thought I would say that, ever). After Lolla, we hit the road for two weeks of pure madness. We hit up Denver, Boulder, Flagstaff, Sedona, the Grand Canyon, Santa Fe, Austin, and New Orleans, enjoying the hospitality and generosity of couch surfers all along the way. We also had a fabulous stop-over in Mississippi to visit all of the grandparents. The instability and constant change of scenery was most refreshing after a quiet and stable summer in Italy. And now, I'm learning to once again be still, at least for the time being. Life is such a trip.

We celebrated Luce's 4th birthday on Sunday. Here's a little glimpse of the festivities...

With only a week left here in Staranzano, I think that now's a good time to reach some sort of conclusion about this summer and my experiences as an au pair in Italy. First of all, this is the best job that I've ever had, but it's coming to an end at the right time. I had no idea coming into this what to expect. I knew nothing about this family or this region of Italy. I also didn't know if I had the patience to deal with kids for 30 hours a week or the ability to conduct effective English lessons. I have learned that I have a whole lot of patience. I also have reconfirmed that my heart is bigger than Texas- I don't know how I'm going to leave these girls. It's truly been an incredible experience to live and function as part of this family for the past 2 1/2 months.

Here's what I did wrong- I never established an ounce of discipline with these kids. My philosophy is always to just shower everyone with love, which works great when those getting showered are receptive. I'm not saying that these kids aren't loving, but they are kids and I've learned that kids tend to be selfish to the core. I wouldn't say that I've spent the whole summer being taken advantage of either, but what I am saying is that my job title would more appropriately be "My Size Barbie that can move and talk" rather than au pair, teacher, or babysitter. Sure, these kids have learned a lot this summer, but they don't realize that at all. They still think that I'm a shiny new toy that came all the way from America to do tricks and entertain them. Having arrived only a week before the family's new cat, Neve, I can greatly sympathize with the torture that she has endured. Neve has also learned patience.

Only a few weeks ago I was teaching Ginevra the differences between the many titles for females. In order to demonstrate two of these, I said, "You are a girl. I am a woman." Her reply was, "No, Whitney, you aren't a woman. You're a girl." "No, Ginevra, I am a woman." "OK, You're a big girl." But that leads to what I did right- I am Ginevra's friend. She's had some issues with the girls at school this past year... You know, that age when the queen bees arise to suck out the souls of the weak. I remember being targeted myself... I was in the 5th grade and, according to the "mean" girls, I had head lice and wore high-waters (only the latter was true). As a big sister and a former victim of the insecurities of other females, I've been able to relate to Gine and many of her current struggles. She tried to run away from home a few days ago just to see if Luce would get upset. I immediately recognized this and did my best to coax along the appropriate response from Luce. After Gine successfully fit into my suitcase and told Luce she was heading to America with me, Luce was in tears telling her that she was sorry for whatever she had done and that she loved her. The whole thing ended with Gine sitting on the stairs, Luce in her arms, both girls crying and holding onto one another with all of their might. After it was all over, Gine said to me, "Whitney, I wasn't really going to run away. I just wanted to see if Luce really loves me." I told her that I knew all along. She asked, "But how did you know?" "Because I have a little sister, too."

So here's a little summary of the progress that we've all made together these past 10 weeks. I'm sure there will be a few additions after our 11th and final week...

Things that Ginevra has learned:

Present continuous tense

Simple past tense and many irregular verbs

Expressing future intentions using “going to…”

Prepositions of place, movement, and time

How to write a friendly letter

Synonyms, antonyms, and homophones (she’s even beginning to pronounce these words correctly!)

Plural forms of irregular nouns

Comparative and superlative adjectives

Giving simple directions

Talking about daily routines, the weather, hobbies, etc…

Common occupations and job titles

Body parts

Idiomatic expressions (her favorite is “It’s raining cats and dogs!”

Marco Polo, Simon Says, and I Spy

“The Hokie Pokey,” and “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes”

Things that Luce has learned/can say:

“It’s mine!!!”

“It’s my turn!”

“Stop!”

“Good morning,” “Good night”

“How are you?,” “Fine,” and “Thank you”

“I can do it”, “By myself”

“Help”

“Again”

“It’s ready”

Me, I, you, she, it (and sometimes she even uses them correctly!)

The verb “to be” (once again, sometimes she conjugates correctly!)

“Sooo cute!” (usually said in reference to Neve)

“Bad cat!” (once again, in reference to Neve)

Colors

Numbers 1-20

Letters (more or less, even though she screams her head off every time I try to sing the ABCs)

Body parts

Many basic nouns, including names of animals, toys, foods, places, and every day objects

The concept of “big” and “small”

Making comparisons using “bigger” and “smaller”

“Itsy, Bitsy, Spider,” “I Scream, You Scream, We all Scream for Ice cream,” “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes”

Simon Says

Things that I’ve learned:

Patience

Understanding

Humility

A few words in the "Gradese" dialect (only spoken in Grado and in our home)

How to say "thank you" in German

More French than I probably realize

The many uses of tea tree oil

How to teach English (more or less)

How to effectively bribe children (it has come in handy many times)

How to practice yoga in a very non-Zen environment (i.e. amidst screaming children)

How to make paper flowers

How to get rid of lice naturally

How to explain to children that just because you have breasts does not mean that you’re lactating (thank God)

How to make rice milk and almond milk (though I haven’t tried either yet)

How to gulp down a bottled beer in one swallow (I only witnessed this, but would be happy to show anyone the technique)

How to properly use and appreciate a bidet

The Italian postal service is more inefficient than that of most third world countries

Buses are only on time when you’re running late

You can find School House Rock and Sesame Street episodes on YouTube! (Ginevra loves them)

The Italian version of “Rock, Paper, Scissors”

Couch surfing is the only way to travel

Where to find falafel anywhere and at anytime of the day

Today I went to the opera, but let me start at the beginning. I should be in Ljubljana, Slovenia right now. I found someone to host me through Couch Surfing about 3 weeks ago and was really looking forward to meeting her and exploring the city, but well, that didn't go as planned. For some reason the automatic ticket machine at the station wouldn't give me a ticket and, shock of all shocks, there was no one working at the ticket window, so I couldn't go on my trip. I was slightly bummed but there's still that part of me that believes everything happens for a reason, so I told myself that I'd come up with something grand to do today (my free day). That's when it hit me- I'll go see an opera in Trieste!

So I decided to take the bus to Trieste first thing this morning. Once again, I didn't have a ticket and couldn't figure out where to buy one on a Sunday (everything is closed), so I decided to just hop on the bus and plead my case to the bus driver (similar to what I did last weekend when I rode the train without a ticket, but that's another story)... Anyway, it turns out he told me "va bene" and I had a free bus ride without even having to plea, cry, or yell (yelling is quite effective in Italy- typically whoever yells the loudest wins the argument. Oh yeah, as a side note, the customer isn't always right here). Trieste is beautiful. I can't believe that I've been so close to the city this entire time and only visited for the first time today. I spent the morning on the pier and later walked around the city. I somehow managed to find the way to San Giusto (a castle) without a map, but I guess not really because this homeless German hippie pointed me in the right direction. We had a nice chat about waiting for yellow submarines, travel, Buddhism, and just life in general.

Then it was time to find something for lunch. I walked around for a while and then I saw it- those trusted words that always ensure tasty falafel is only moments away- "KEBAB." After an hour of enjoying air conditioning (it's hard to find around here), listening to Turkish dance music, and reading "Catcher in the Rye," I decided that it was time to locate the theater. I found it alright but- I'm sure no one will be surprised by what's to follow- the ticket window wasn't opened. I eventually realized that something was wrong when the show was scheduled to start in one hour and there was absolutely no one in or around the building... right about then is when I met Attila. I asked him if he knew where I could buy a ticket and he informed me that the opera was at another theater! He was nice enough to accompany me there and we struck up a little conversation... Turns out that he's an opera singer and is performing in another opera that begins later this week. When we got close to the theater he asked me if I'd like to pay for a ticket or go in with him. What?! Get in for free?! I'll take that option, yes! He told me to keep quiet and stay close, so I did. He took me through the back door and we entered behind the stage. After wading through people, props, and cords, we made it to the front of the theater. Sensing that I was a little nervous about this whole stunt, Attila insisted that we share a coffee so that everyone would see us together and not suspect anything. Then we chose my seat, which changed a few times because some people actually had reservations. Finally one of the attendants caught on to the act and asked us if we had tickets. Lucky for me, Attila was who he said he was. He whipped out his special card that proved he was part of the opera world and told the woman that I was his girlfriend, although I'm not sure that she was convinced because he was easily 20 years older than me. She suggested that she show me to a seat that had not been reserved and walked me right up to the front row. I couldn't believe it!

The "operetta" (little opera) was called "Sissi" and told the story of Princess Sissi (as she's known in these parts) who was Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary back in the mid-late 1800s. She's kind of a big deal around here. I'm actually not really sure what was happening because the opera was in German, but it was nonetheless amusing to watch and the music was just lovely. Anyway, Attila gave me his number and told me to get in touch with him if I want to see his opera this week... So maybe I'll actually see an Italian opera while I'm here.

I'd say that I had a nice experience in Trieste.

Where to begin? First things first, Villach, Austria is one of the most beautiful places that I've ever visited, and it's hands down the cleanest place that I've ever seen. You can drink the lake water, seriously... I doubt that anyone has ever drank the water in Allatoona and lived to tell about it... I had my first couch surfing experience and it couldn't have gone more perfectly. My host, Nathalie, met me at the station with her friend Andrea. The two of them took me to a nice little restaurant in the city center (similar to downtown Athens in size) where we ate greek salad al fresco and sipped on something called "squash" (kinda like a non-alcoholic daiquiri). Then we headed to the local cinema for an international short film festival. Unfortunately, we missed the first half, but the films that we did catch were awesome (strange thing though- the films were all in different languages (mostly Arabic) but were shown with English subtitles, not German). Then we went to hear this Serbian band called Repetitor play. We were skeptical at first, but ended up having a lot of fun. The highlight of the night was this old guy (in his 70s) who whipped out a harmonica and started playing along (I forgot to mention that this was rather loud music). It was awesome.

So the next morning, I woke up to a beautiful spread on the table that had been prepared by Nathalie's mother... fresh baked breads, fruit, oats, honey, homemade jams, coffee... they don't make them like that in Italy. This family was beyond hospitable. After breakfast, they took me to Monkey Mountain. It was a little bizarre to see monkeys in Austria, of all places, but we had a great time and the park was beautiful. We then returned home for lunch- Nathalie's mom had prepared a traditional Carinthian dish that was comprised of fresh pasta (kinda like a dumpling) stuffed with creamed potatoes, garlic, and spices. It was delicious.

They also fed me some sort of cake that tasted like cinnamon raisin toast and Austrian chocolate. We left the house full and happy as we headed off to a little island on one of the lakes. I can't even begin to describe the view from the island. But even more impressive than the mountains was this lake... the water was blue! and you could see the bottom! and you could drink the water! Unbelievable. Ah, and we also ate apple strudel.

Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to spend in Villach. After the little island excursion, we had to head back to the station. I'm now convinced that couch surfing is the only way to travel. I was completely blown away by the hospitality and generosity shown to me by Nathalie and her family. I was a complete stranger and not only did they take me into their home with no reservations, they devoted themselves to making sure that I had an authentic experience of their city and culture. I hope that I can one day return the favor.

I can't sleep. When I attempted to go to sleep at midnight, I discovered a mosquito in my room. Like any sane person, I chose to kill rather than be made prey throughout the entire night, but I was apparently unsuccessful. I woke up at around 3 a.m. to the sound of buzzing... and within the next few seconds had to dig the little sucker out of my eye. So with a swollen eye and a bite on my back, I jumped out of bed to seek my revenge. I'm assuming that I was more successful this time as I haven't heard or seen the little monster in several minutes... I hope I find a reliable mosquito net in Africa- I don't think I could deal with this every night.

Now that I'm here, I might as well say something about my day. I went to the market today in Monfalcone, which takes place every Wednesday in and around the main piazza in the city center. I went with a goal in mind- fresh tofu. That's right. After much research, I found someone in this neck of the woods that makes fresh tofu and seitan and also grows organic veggies and fruits. This probably won't sound like much to any of you, but I was quite happy to leave with the following treasures: 1 block of home-made tofu, 2 cucumbers, 4 white peaches, 2 ripe avocados, and 2 grapefruits. In honor of the fresh hunk of soy goodness that's going to supply me with much needed protein and amino acids, I give you an old and trusted friend, Tofu Baby...

They say that home is where the heart is, but what if your heart is all over the place? A piece of mine is somewhere on I-85 listening to Yppah with Nick to my left and the night sky hovering above us. Another piece is sitting in the Rome airport listening to a stranger play classical guitar (maybe he's not such a stranger anymore, but I'll get to that part). A little piece is in meditation as Cathy spouts out profound, yet so simple, words of wisdom. I never knew that yoga could make you cry until I met her. There's so much beauty in simplicity. In presence. That's where my heart should be- in the PRESENT. In the here and now. Today that stranger in the airport told me (via facebook chat) that "here" isn't home to me because I'm not present. Another bit of my big gushing heart is already somewhere in Africa. And yet, I think the largest part of it is years in the future, somewhere on a little farm.

Proverbs 4:23 says, "Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." Everything that I do flows from my heart. It's my well-spring of life. What am I searching for when it's all right here? All beating right inside of my chest. It's beating right now telling me "this is life. this is home. this is all there is." There is nowhere to go and nothing to do. This is it.

So I guess it would only be fair to talk about Italy now, I mean, that's why everyone is reading this, right? I'm doing quite well. The girls have exceeding warming up to me- I'd go as far to say that now we're inseparable. The simplest moments are always the best... like when Luce pops her head into my room unexpectedly and just grins at me... or when she wraps her entire little body around my torso and tells me, "You mamma tiger and me baby tiger." When I'm not engaged in a rousing game of mamma tiger or monkey or shark, I've been learning French. So far, so good. I've also been devouring books, but that's been temporarily put on hold as I've read everything that I brought along, have already raided the English section of the local bookstore, and am awaiting a delivery from Amazon UK... I hope that Dostoevsky and Kerouac will be here to join me soon. I guess I'll end this post with a book recommendation. Everyone, and I mean everyone, go out into this beautiful world and find yourself a copy of Yann Martel's "Life of Pi." You can thank me later. (Thank you, Marla.)

It only took a bus ride to Monfalcone, a train to Venice, a train to Treviso, a bus to the airport, a plane to Girona, a bus to Barcelona, and a taxi to Carrer de Provenca for me to realize that I don't really know Brandon Hanick. I first met him two years ago during Athfest and now only know him in the context of two weekends. I heard his band (King of Prussia) play at the 40 Watt and somehow ended up having a long conversation with him. Following another small encounter and a message on myspace, I found myself just a few days later in his bedroom recording background vocals for his latest EP ("The Time of Great Forgetting"). Brandon moved to Barcelona the next day, and now two years removed, here I was at his doorstep. Juan and I didn't see much of him over the weekend, but we did catch him play a show at the Miscelanea on Friday night. I felt like I was home. Not really in a physical sense, it was more like the completion of something strange that began two years ago and had been floating around in space ever since looking for an end. Whatever odd bit of closure I had been seeking, I found in Barcelona.

Barcelona is beautiful. It was nice shaking things up a bit in a new country. I mean, I don't feel like I'm a tourist in Italy anymore... I speak the language, I'm familiar with the culture, the flow of everyday life, and so on. It was nice to be vulnerable again, to depend on a map and street signs to get places, and to trust that (in the case Juan wasn't willing to speak for me) someone would understand English or maybe a few Spanish words pronounced in an Italian accent (or maybe they were a few Italian words poorly pronounced in a Spanish accent). Regardless, nodding your head "yes" or "no" gets you places in any part of the world, except maybe in India (I hear they just bob their heads in little circles there).

We spent most of the weekend admiring the architecture of Gaudi. The Sagrada Familia was incredible. Gaudi designed the church and began building it in the late 1880s and it's still being built to this day. It should be completed in 2030, so Juan and I decided that we will meet back in Barcelona when we're both 43 to see the finished project. Guell Park was also great. Very whimsical. Unfortunately, we only had the funds to admire the facade of Gaudi's buildings, so we greatly appreciated and took advantage of the park's free entrance. When we weren't searching for one of Gaudi's buildings, we were looking for vegetarian food. We found a few great veg restaurants, one was even completely vegan, but we also ate a lot of falafel. Thank God for deep-fried chickpea mash and the gracious souls who sell the stuff all over Europe. We also drank a lot of fresh juice (coconut-kiwi was my favorite). Ah, and then there was sangria, which is not so typical of Barcelona, it's more of a rest of Spain kind of thing... which is probably why we were charged 30 euro for only two glasses, but I'm trying to forget that.

Now I'm back home in Staranzano. The girls have finished school for the year, so now our play schedule will be a bit more flexible. The rest of the summer will be pretty quiet, dedicated to my yoga practice, reading, improving my Italian, and learning French (required by the Peace Corps, assuming I receive my final placement in West Africa). I'm focusing on being aware, present, centered, and calm. Very calm.

No, we did not all get perms in our hair. We have head lice. They were first discovered in Luce's hair after dinner last night. After breakfast this morning, we went ahead and treated all of us. Cristina and Marcello made up an all-natural concoction to kill these little suckers- you start out with some kind of essential oil from India (it smells like garlic), you then comb your hair and look for the lice (we didn't see any in my hair), and then you apply a mixture of all-natural baby shampoo (the one we used is made from oil and flower extracts) and a drop of tree oil. After you have your hair nice and oiled up, you put on a shower cap and keep it snug for an hour. And then you no longer have lice, or at least that's how I hope it works (I'm still wearing my cap now!).

Many of you know that I have eaten a vegan diet for the past 3 years, with the exception of a few weak moments and some time spent in Italy (this summer included). Nowadays, everyone is familiar with the term "vegan" but most people don't understand what it means to be vegan. It's more than not eating animal products- it's a political statement, a moral stance, a commitment to a cruelty-free lifestyle, and it requires constant awareness of everything that you eat and use or wear on your body. Sounds like a lot of work, huh? It is. But what are the rewards? Better health, a purer body, a cleaner environment, comfort in knowing that you aren't consuming dangerous chemicals, hormones, and antibiotics (assuming that you also eat only organic foods), the knowledge that you aren't contributing to the cruel mass slaughtering of farm animals, or supporting the harsh and unsanitary living conditions of farm animals used not only for meat, but also for eggs and dairy products. In a spiritual sense, I believe eating a vegan diet allows you to live closer to God. Our minds and bodies are not pure when we are absorbing the pain and suffering of animals, as well as the associated chemicals and hormones. From a humanitarian perspective, indigenous peoples in places such as South America are being driven off of their lands by food production companies that are mass-producing soy and other crops in order to cheaply feed factory-farmed animals in the US and Europe. Furthermore, the pesticides and other chemical used in the production of food for factory farmed animals poisons water supplies and contaminates the air that the local people breathe, resulting in birth defects, sickness, and death. These practices are also detrimental to the environment. Forests are being cleared to make way for soy crops to be used as animal feed. Also, factory farms produce tremendous amounts of waste! These practices are detrimental to soil health and local water supplies.

I've been in Italy for 3 weeks as of today. Already I have eaten butter, gelato, cheese, and eggs (though they have all been organic, except for the gelato). After studying the European Union extensively at UGA, I was under the impression that the EU had outlawed factory farming. While it is true that farms are held to higher standards in the EU, animals used for conventional food production in Europe are far from free-range, healthy, or happy. There's a small pig farm right up the road from us here in Staranzano. I can hear the pigs squeal during the day and when the wind blows a certain way, I can smell their waste. I run by this farm almost everyday, but I have never once seen a single pig. They're confined indoors. Cristina told me that I'll know it when they're being slaughtered. She says that they sound like screaming children as they're being killed. Even before it's their turn to die, they can see and hear the other pigs being slaughtered. They're terrified. They release adrenaline. You consume this terror and adrenaline.

With this post, I am recommitting myself to a cruelty-free lifestyle. You don't have to go completely vegan to take a stand against the dangers and injustices associated with factory-farming and large-scale food production. Here are some other options... Eat organic and try to eat local. Read food ingredient labels before you make a purchase. Most people only read the caloric and fat information, which is important, but it's more important to read the ingredients (don't buy things with chemical preservatives, artificial colors or flavors, or high fructose corn syrup). And please, oh please, don't let your kids eat this stuff. There are some great all-natural brands of "junk" food that taste even better than what you're used to. For instance, Newman's Own makes great "oreos," pretzels, and crackers, and you can easily find these products in Kroger or other conventional grocery stores. Better yet, the Newman's Own company dedicates its profits to several charity organizations. On that note, help out the poor communities that are affected by large scale food production. Local farmers in the third world can't compete with the cheap food products that result from mass production by large companies. Buy fair trade products, such as coffee and chocolate. You can find these things easily labeled in the grocery store. Dole may be screwing over small banana farmers in Central and South America (I don't know this for a fact, it's only an assumption), but you can help level the playing field by purchasing fair trade products from developing countries.

You are what you eat. Think about it. I've been at this for a while now and I'm far from perfect, but I'm always here to answer any questions, direct you to the appropriate literature, or to share my favorite recipes. I wish you all happy eating :)

It was pouring rain when I stepped off the train in Siena. Giancarlo and I were drenched by the time we made it back to his apartment, but I couldn't have cared less. After a year, it had all come back full circle. I was reconnected with my Italian roots. I was home. With wet hair and squeaky shoes, we waddled our way to the Piazza del Campo. I had only one thing on my mind. Coconut gelato is perhaps the most delightful thing that I've ever tasted. After a year of separation, it didn't let me down. With the first taste of sweet and creamy coconut, the memories started pouring in and the sun emerged to shin brightly over a perfect piazza, a perfect day, and two friends reminiscing about a perfect Tuscan summer.

After a bottle of Prosecco, we headed to the school to accompany the new students on an evening walk around the city center. I enjoyed observing the reactions of the students as they learned about Siena's rich history and legends. I imagined myself in the same situation a year ago... eager to learn, to experience, to grow. I have learned, experienced, and grown, but I was still just as bright-eyed and mesmerized by Siena's beauty and depth. Giancarlo and I slipped off early and met Roni, another staff member, and her friend Monsi for dinner. As we discussed the previous summer as well as future plans, I realized that a lot changes in one year. But how nice it is to experience life's little comforts... Good conversation with old friends, the taste of fresh pasta, and a familiar night air veiled with stars that I have often contemplated.

The next day we took the bus out to Acquacalda to visit Luciana, my host mother from last summer. We walked down Via Dante. Rang the bell. Waited. Climbed the stairs to Number 18. And there she was to greet me with a glowing face, warm hugs and many kisses. I felt so loved. I sat in my old chair at the table as she served us coffee and chocolate cake. Nothing had changed. She was still my Italian mother... the woman who had fed me, cared for me, and taught me how to live in a new little world. The sound of her voice was comforting. Her thick Tuscan accent was no easier to understand, but I was glad for it. I somehow managed to say goodbye and we left. Just like that.

We spent Sunday in Florence. Once again, food was on the mind. We made our way to "Il latini," a restaurant popular among the locals for traditional Tuscan cuisine. We sat family style, surrounded by couples speaking Italian, French, and English. Just as the previous summer, the waiter offered us no menu, but this time I knew just what I wanted- pappa al pomodoro- a thick soup made from stale bread, tomatoes, onions, basil, and vegetable broth. Next, I had fresh pasta with tomatoes and zucchini. The red wine was bottomless, of course. Dessert was strawberry mousse and a glass of Moscato, followed by freshly baked cantuccini and a shot of a traditional Tuscan liquor (it was the only thing that we left on the table). Lunch was followed by a nap in a nearby patch of grass. Naps are a must after an Italian meal.

Giancarlo and I said our goodbyes and I headed to the train station. Three hours later, I was home again. To a new home. I wonder how deep my roots will plant here... What will grow from this new experience.

Grado is called the island of gold. I now understand why. Paolo picked me up this morning and took me to Grado for the day. At this moment, I cannot configure the appropriate words to describe my day, both in terms of relating what I saw in Grado and in what I experienced with Paolo and his family. It's probably best to start at the beginning... Paolo is a nervous kinda guy. Not clumsy or fidgety, but very emotional. For this, he told me that he couldn't talk to me while he was driving. I am already inclined to appreciate silence, as opposed to engaging in meaningless conversation, but this was a very different kind of silence. A warm silence. Throughout the day, Paolo and I continued to share moments of silence (it was a bit tiresome frequently changing between Italian and English). I felt as if there was a profound understanding and respect between us, one that seldom exists even between old friends. It was very calming.

After we walked along the beach, around the city center, visited the church, the port, and passed (in slight disgust) a parade of red Ferraris, we headed to the fishermen's docks on the lagoon. Paolo's father picked us up in his little wooden boat and took us out to the family's "casono," a word that refers to fishermen's huts on little islands throughout the lagoon. We passed the afternoon with the company of Paolo's parents, drinking wine, enjoying a pleasant lunch of pasta and garden fresh salad (the arugula and radicchio were grown there on the island), and soaking up the sun. Paolo had told me about his brother, Fabio, who studied abroad in Georgia while he was in high school. After the family received a phone call from Fabio, they passed the phone to me to ask him where he had studied in Georgia. It really is a very small world. Fabio lived in Cartersville and went to Woodland High School. Of all the places in the world... He invited me to come and visit him Milan. Maybe I will.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon on the beach. Paolo leaves on Tuesday to spend some time in another self-sustainable ecological camp, this time in Florence. He doesn't know how long he'll stay. Maybe forever. I can't help but feel extremely privileged to have spent a day with Paolo. In bocca del lupo.

I'm exhausted. Earlier this morning I took my first run in Staranzano. I found a little road that weaved through the countryside and passed by several wheat fields. It was beautiful. The run was followed by my daily yoga practice. This afternoon I spent several hours playing hide-and-seek with the girls. Actually, it was more like playing tag. I was running while holding Luce on my hip the entire time, so needless to say, Ginevra did most of the hiding/effective running/tagging, I did most of the counting/sweating/feet dragging, and Luce just giggled and said "VAI!"(it means "you go") and "GET HER!". Easy for her to say.

Here is a photo that I took with the girls on Saturday. It was taken on the balcony of Marcello's office in Monfalcone's main piazza. More photos to come...

Tonight I met Paolo. He is one swell guy. Paolo is from Grado, the hometown of Cristina and Marcello. Paolo just returned from spending some time in an ecological community in the Alps (he biked all the way there and back). He says that he's searching for an "alternative reality," one in which people no longer live off of the earth, but live with the earth. To him, this idea is rather radical. He seemed to think that I couldn't understand his philosophy and was reluctant to explain it to me in Italian (he said it was too complicated). But I understood perfectly. I'm also searching for that alternative reality. For a life of simplicity, void of egotism and materialism. For a place where "Yes we can" is not just a slogan but a way of life. A world where capitalism is viewed as antique and barbaric. Where equality is no longer granted but definite, natural.

Paolo says that his life has consisted of three steps. At the first step, Paolo believed that he could change the world for the better. Realizing that this was rather naive, Paolo moved onto the second step. He no longer believed that he could change anything, and didn't see any reason to try to fix a world that was so knowingly corrupt. But like anyone with the propensity to acknowledge the inequalities and material corruption of the world, Paolo was unable to remain apathetic for long. Thus, Paolo is now on the third step. To create an alternate reality. To build his own little world. One day when the unsustainable system of capitalism falls, when the soil of large-scale farmlands is depleted, and when people are actually poisoned by processed foods and cable news shows, Paolo's little world will still persist. Is it really so radical to be one with the earth?

Human beings are leeches and there is only so much blood to suck before the earth is dry.

On a lighter note, life here is good. The food is good, the conversation is excellent, life is slow, and Luce said "let's go!" today.

Day one is coming to an end. I'm here in Staranzano and it's beautiful. Getting here should have been a disaster by most standards, but I handled it quite well. My flight out of DC to Munich was delayed due to the volcanic ash, so I missed my connecting flight to Trieste and added another 6 hours to my 16 hours of travel time. Marcello, my host dad, picked me up from the airport in Trieste and drove me to their home in the quiet and lovely countryside, which is only a 10 minute drive from the airport. Cristina, my host mom, and Little Luce (not yet 4) greeted me at the house. I decided earlier that I would only speak English around the girls, knowing that if they hear me speak Italian they'll be resistant to speak in English... so I immediatley began speaking to Luce in English. I'm not quite sure if she understands anything that I've been saying... she just responds with "si'!" to everything I say and then she giggles. Shortly after my arrival Luce exclaimed that she had to "pee pee" and asked for Cristina's assistance. From the bathroom I heard her exclaim "Mamma! Whitney parla inglese!", followed by a chorus of giggles. This kid is seriously the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

My living situation is pretty much ideal. Their country home is quite large, especially by Italian standards, and is very quiet but not too isolated from the cities of Monfalcone and Trieste. My room is upstairs with the playroom and office space. It's small, but quite cosy. I have a little window in my room that opens up onto a balcony that oversees the neighbor's farmland. While napping this afternoon, I enjoyed the accompaniment of chirping birds and one over-zealous rooster. This rooster might be my only problem. I also have my own bathroom, which again has a large window that overlooks the neighbor's garden... I just hope the neighbor doesn't overlook my showers.

Dinner was quite pleasant. I met Ginevra (10) and must say that I couldn't have imagined a more peaceful, kind, and thoughtful child. Her English is surprisingly very good. She seems to understand everything that I've been saying and tries her best to respond in English. She is quite clever though... She hasn't heard me speak Italian but knows that I can, so she tends to rattle on in Italian and then asks me to translate for her. This might actually be better for me as it will help me to improve my Italian. Dinner was simple, which I greatly appreciated. We had a delicious vegetable, rice, and bean soup that Cristina prepared, along with bread and fresh olives. Dessert was fresh strawberries:) I was pleased to find out that Cristina shops at a completely organic ("biologico") market. She is also very sympathetic to animal suffering and only eats meat when it's neccessary for her health (she is critically iron deficient).

Tomorrow is Saturday and the family will be taking me "in giro" around the city. We will also visit Grado, an island on the Adriatic. I can't wait to get my toes wet.

A presto.

Tomorrow I leave for Staranzano, Italy, my home away from the home I no longer have. I moved out of my apartment in Athens on Sunday and it was much more emotional than I had expected. I realized the full scope of the decisions that I've recently made when I packed away my favorite tea cups, knowing that it will be at least 2 1/2 years until I use them again. Now that I have everything neatly packed in boxes and have said my long and tearful goodbye to Athens, I'm looking forward to another summer in Italy as I somewhat anxiously await to receive my Peace Corps invitation.

I will be living with a family in Staranzano for the summer and teaching their 2 kids English, or at least trying to teach them English. The girls are 3 1/2 and 10 and speak little to no English... this should be interesting. The town is very small and near the coastline of the Adriatic Sea. The only thing separating me from the Adriatic is one more trip to Target, the ride to the airport, a change-over in DC, another change-over in Munich, and a ride with my Italian host family from the airport in Trieste to our home in Staranzano. This is going to be a great summer.