From Him:
Okay, so while she’s written some fairly direct stuff about what we’ve been doing, I’ve been pretty vague in my posts. Random thoughts, notes from the front, that sort of thing. To be honest, there hasn’t been that much to write about since we’ve gotten to site (coming up on a month now). We’ve been running a summer program for the secondary school students (basically grades 7-11) for the last few weeks, and the final week of it is this coming one; that way the students get one week off before school starts back up.
The secondary school, which is where I’ll be working once the school year starts, has just under 200 students, and we’ve had a summer attendance of about 50-60. She teaches literacy-related stuff, and I’m doing “IT” – while it’s referred to as Information Technology, which sounds sexy and exciting, it’s basically typing and mastery of Windows and Microsoft Office. She can tell you in her entry what exactly literacy is.
So, basically, with me the students have been figuring out why they bump a button and ALL THE LETTERS COME OUT AS CAPITALS, the difference between delete and backspace, the magical Shift button, etc. Lately, we’ve gotten into even wilder things – Cut, Copy, and Paste, and so forth. I know, I know – it’s nuts. Who knew that I could not only teaching high school Spanish, but IT as well?
How do I get myself into these things?
Moving on from our professional lives, things have been interesting these last two weeks for us personally and socially. We’ve barely had to cook a single dinner for ourselves. Last Friday, we visited the next village over, being toured around by two friends of ours that live in our village and know the area. As we were going about on our BRAND NEW BIKES (which have already broken in various places a grand total of 5 times, in 2 weeks), we came down off a bridge and I was waved over by some guys at a rum shop.
Now, for the males serving here, this will be a common occurrence. There are little shops on the roadside, everywhere, and they sell snacks and bike tires and random things. They also often sell beer, rum, and vodka. They’re called Rum Shops, and basically about 5-15 men will be sitting and standing around, at any time of day, drinking. When the white boy goes by, just trying to live his life, he will be waved over and invited to “Troe a shot” (throw a shot). Now, refusing is generally okay, but you also don’t want to be rude. You need to be careful though, because Troeing a Shot can become killing two bottles of vodka at around noon on a Wednesday. So Friday we’re being shown the next town, and some guys wave me over. Well, it’s not like I’m off to work, or meet some official, so I go over, say hi, troe a shot (or two).
So, next thing, I’m invited (with She [remember: the only feminine pronoun is She]) to a guy’s house for dinner Saturday. Then, on the way back from the tour, we stop at some friend or other of our tour guides, and bing bang boom, dinner Wednesday was taken care of. We visited a Mandir (Hindu church) Sunday, and afterwards were invited by some new friends we made just then to some function or other, and bam, dinner Sunday was given to us. Monday we ate some Hassa, some fish we were given by the family that fed us Saturday; Tuesday we ate at She [not Her; SHE] counterpart (counterpart = professional associate on site, set up through our organization). Wednesday, I mentioned; and so the week proceeds, through Saturday, when we attended a “Jandi”, a Hindu thanksgiving. And we’re visiting new churches every Sunday as we get invited (we’re booked up for the next 3 weeks, at least), and every time we visit a new place, we get more invitations.
We were told early on that we would basically be celebrities. We’re obviously foreign (aka, White); not just any foreigners, but from the U.S., which is where many of the people here wish to end up; and we’re volunteers, helping out the community and giving up time out of our lives, giving up family and friends and money, to be here. So there’s general all-around positive feeling toward us. Plus, being blindingly white, people can spot us from WAY out, so lots of times we meet new people, but they’ve already seen us around – doing our morning run, shopping in the market, whatever. And we’re given more fruit than we know what to do with.
So, yeah. That celebrity thing was no joke. It will definitely be weird when we return to the states and find a new home – everyone won’t be fawning over us, kids won’t be staring, we won’t get dinner invitations for every day of the week. I mean, we were triple-booked this last Sunday; if we’d had enough hours in the day, we could have done a couple weddings along with the church service and lunch we attended.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
From Her:
Ode to Chacos
Oh Chacos, how I love thee…Let me count the ways….
Your amazing tread
The super adjustable straps that allow for a custom fit
The super cool tan lines you have left on my feet
The way you match every article of clothing I have here (which isn’t much, but still…J )
How “tick” (thick) and durable you are
In case you haven’t realized yet, Chacos are pretty much the most amazing sandal ever, and if you do not own a pair yet, you need to go invest in some.
Leave it to Beaver….Remember that show? With Mrs. Cleaver? Well, sometimes I think we have gone back in time to that era. I have become Mrs. Cleaver, only I don’t have a cute little apron to wear when I cook. I am quickly mastering the talent of handwashing. This is not a very enjoyable task. Each week we make a couple different fruit juices for breakfast. One is a mixture of pine (pineapple), bananas, and oranges; the other is a mixture of cherries and passion fruit. They’re pretty amazing. Then, I get another pine and make fresh pine jam for the week. This is by far the most domestic I have ever been in my life. When not in the apartment, I wear skirts pretty much 24/7, because as a female, that’s what you do here. It’s definitely interesting to learn new ways of doing things, even though it may be frustrating at times when all I want to do is wear a tank top and shorts!
Ode to Chacos
Oh Chacos, how I love thee…Let me count the ways….
Your amazing tread
The super adjustable straps that allow for a custom fit
The super cool tan lines you have left on my feet
The way you match every article of clothing I have here (which isn’t much, but still…J )
How “tick” (thick) and durable you are
In case you haven’t realized yet, Chacos are pretty much the most amazing sandal ever, and if you do not own a pair yet, you need to go invest in some.
Leave it to Beaver….Remember that show? With Mrs. Cleaver? Well, sometimes I think we have gone back in time to that era. I have become Mrs. Cleaver, only I don’t have a cute little apron to wear when I cook. I am quickly mastering the talent of handwashing. This is not a very enjoyable task. Each week we make a couple different fruit juices for breakfast. One is a mixture of pine (pineapple), bananas, and oranges; the other is a mixture of cherries and passion fruit. They’re pretty amazing. Then, I get another pine and make fresh pine jam for the week. This is by far the most domestic I have ever been in my life. When not in the apartment, I wear skirts pretty much 24/7, because as a female, that’s what you do here. It’s definitely interesting to learn new ways of doing things, even though it may be frustrating at times when all I want to do is wear a tank top and shorts!
Saturday, August 11, 2007
A 2-parter
Somebody said, early on, that the more our site placement resembles what we were used to in the States, the harder it will be for us to adjust. I find myself agreeing with this statement a great deal. [Note: I just finished the post, and am looking at it – the first bit is long, and if you get tired of it, just skip down to the horizontal line; read the last paragraph before the line, and then the rest of the stuff after]
My partner and I are living in an apartment together, just like last year. It’s about the same size, if not a bit larger. One superficial difference is that the national architectural style emphasizes walls that do NOT go all the way to the ceiling – this helps to allow for the free flow of air (the blessed “breeze”) through the house; since we’re on the top floor of a building, it’s build with a peaked roof, we have walls that go up to a normal height, and then basically a barn roof extending up over us. Other than this, and the fact that the building is a bit outdated – something I got to live in during university years anyway, not to mention that I grew up in an old farmhouse now pushing 100 years old – when we walk into our home, (and this is key) there aren’t many aesthetic discrepancies between life here and life in the U.S.
There are, however, deeper issues. We have a scheduled blackout once per week, for maintenance of the grid. “Scheduled” is a relative term; sometimes The Schedule blacks us out on Tuesday. Sometimes Wednesday. Or maybe Thursday. Whatever. Also, when big storms (mostly in the form of high winds) come through, the power goes down.
This would be less of an issue if the electricity (“current” as it’s referred to here, as in, “We’ve had Current for almost a year in this town”) weren’t integral to the water system.
Let me give a quick overview of our water. We have two hugungous (slightly larger than ginormous) tanks sitting 10’ from our building, elevated up a bit higher than us and connected to the building by a pipe. These tanks previously caught and stored rainwater. This is a somewhat tricky proposition, but then again it’s rainy season 8 months out of the year here. With the recent advent of Current to the area, the tanks have been covered over, so no more rainwater comes in – this is a mostly good thing, as sometimes birds fly overhead and, well, you get the point; or bugs fly in and die, etc. – and the tanks are now filled, twice a day, from the local water supply. Water is pumped up high into the tanks; we then get water due to the magic of gravity (they’re higher than we are by just a bit, and water flows downhill). Simple, huh?
Well, then you add in that there’s a regular blackout once a week. During the blackout, you can’t turn on the pump, so the next day we routinely run out of water. Then there are the unscheduled blackouts. Then there’s the weekend, when the guy that turns on the pump isn’t around as much, or maybe he’s sick, or has a function attend to elsewhere. Or there’s the fact that we’re the 3rd apartment in the building to be filled (out of 4), and the others below us have full showers and one even has a clotheswasher, so there’s more use on the line. This is no biggie for the other two apartments, but we’re at the very top, and the tanks are only a bit higher than us; once the tanks get about 1/2way empty, the water level and gravity no longer work to our advantage. The shower is first to go, but we bucket-bathe anyway. Then the kitchen sink drops offline; finally the bathroom sink, as the lowest outlet for water, tapers off. Everyone else, below us, happily uses til the tanks are empty. We resort to the Saveyer 5 gallon jug I set up and refill regularly, and pray that the tanks get refilled before Saveyer is done. Saveyer Jug, as in Save yer @$$, is pronounced “Savior”.
I know this is a bit wordy to get to the point that water is tricky here. And heaven knows, if our biggest complaint at the end of two years is irregular water flow, then we’ve done pretty well by our organization’s standards (recent groups had a variety of gastro-intestinal illnesses, worms, a hernia, pregnancy, assault, etc.). I mean, after all, we’re not volunteering to do work in London or Boston. But I just want you to imagine moving to a new place that is roughly similar in appearance to every apartment and house you’ve inhabited for the last 25 years of your life, if a bit of a fixer-upper. But it’s not the same. Electricity is tricky, water moreso, and you know every (and I mean EVERY) detail of your neighbors’ lives (and vice versa), because there are no full walls, and certainly no insulation. The closer it is to home in the States, the harder it is to adjust – definitely true.
It certainly is interesting. As with our “Stanley” hammer that I mentioned in the last post (R.I.P.), things often seem a certain way on the surface. It might take good hard use, or just time, but usually once you push down below the surface of the water, you can see how everything is just a little off from what it seemed at first. Sometimes it’s an easy thing to adjust to, but sometimes, and some things, and some people, you have a lot of investment in – financial, emotional, or otherwise – and finding out the hard way that things are different can be a jolt. Being in a new culture can be like reliving your early teen years (remember how fun those were?) or your first years on your own, all over again – you just get to live life, see what happens, and learn from your mistakes and mistaken assumptions.
--------------------------------
A last, slightly more amusing note – the language barrier here is at times hilarious and also absolutely mystifying. The two of us love that it’s *the two of us*, and that as a couple we get to go through most every interaction together. This increases our comprehension of conversations to about 70%, and one of us can usually cover when the other completely misses the conversational boat. The language here is a type of Creolese, which has a distinct and differentiated form in each Caribbean country, so knowing one will only help you slightly with any other, or with Lewsiana-talk. Basically, it’s faster and clipped, and a lot of grammar rules are dropped. Few prepositions (at, to, from), and there’s only one pronoun form used for each person – me he she we you they. Also, tenses are highly optional.
Rough examples (and remember, we’re not masters yet):
English Local Creolese
I went down there. Me go down deh.
Tell him to come downstairs. Tell he com bottom.
(Upstairs is “top”: Most buildings are only two levels, so there’s just Top and Bottom).
We went down there. Awbedee deh.
Yeah, you like that last one? Lots of times “we” becomes “Awbee”. I think it’s like “We’ll ALL BE doing …whatever”. And then “We’re going down” or “Let’s all go” becomes Awbedee. I spent a good 3 or 4 days trying to figure out who the heck this Awbee person was, and why I never met them, especially when they were always mentioned in conjunction with some group activity of which I was a part.
Oh, here’s one last one. When a local sees something demonstrated by some masterful person, snorts, and retorts “Ikoodadooda”, smile and agree. Of course they could have done that.
My partner and I are living in an apartment together, just like last year. It’s about the same size, if not a bit larger. One superficial difference is that the national architectural style emphasizes walls that do NOT go all the way to the ceiling – this helps to allow for the free flow of air (the blessed “breeze”) through the house; since we’re on the top floor of a building, it’s build with a peaked roof, we have walls that go up to a normal height, and then basically a barn roof extending up over us. Other than this, and the fact that the building is a bit outdated – something I got to live in during university years anyway, not to mention that I grew up in an old farmhouse now pushing 100 years old – when we walk into our home, (and this is key) there aren’t many aesthetic discrepancies between life here and life in the U.S.
There are, however, deeper issues. We have a scheduled blackout once per week, for maintenance of the grid. “Scheduled” is a relative term; sometimes The Schedule blacks us out on Tuesday. Sometimes Wednesday. Or maybe Thursday. Whatever. Also, when big storms (mostly in the form of high winds) come through, the power goes down.
This would be less of an issue if the electricity (“current” as it’s referred to here, as in, “We’ve had Current for almost a year in this town”) weren’t integral to the water system.
Let me give a quick overview of our water. We have two hugungous (slightly larger than ginormous) tanks sitting 10’ from our building, elevated up a bit higher than us and connected to the building by a pipe. These tanks previously caught and stored rainwater. This is a somewhat tricky proposition, but then again it’s rainy season 8 months out of the year here. With the recent advent of Current to the area, the tanks have been covered over, so no more rainwater comes in – this is a mostly good thing, as sometimes birds fly overhead and, well, you get the point; or bugs fly in and die, etc. – and the tanks are now filled, twice a day, from the local water supply. Water is pumped up high into the tanks; we then get water due to the magic of gravity (they’re higher than we are by just a bit, and water flows downhill). Simple, huh?
Well, then you add in that there’s a regular blackout once a week. During the blackout, you can’t turn on the pump, so the next day we routinely run out of water. Then there are the unscheduled blackouts. Then there’s the weekend, when the guy that turns on the pump isn’t around as much, or maybe he’s sick, or has a function attend to elsewhere. Or there’s the fact that we’re the 3rd apartment in the building to be filled (out of 4), and the others below us have full showers and one even has a clotheswasher, so there’s more use on the line. This is no biggie for the other two apartments, but we’re at the very top, and the tanks are only a bit higher than us; once the tanks get about 1/2way empty, the water level and gravity no longer work to our advantage. The shower is first to go, but we bucket-bathe anyway. Then the kitchen sink drops offline; finally the bathroom sink, as the lowest outlet for water, tapers off. Everyone else, below us, happily uses til the tanks are empty. We resort to the Saveyer 5 gallon jug I set up and refill regularly, and pray that the tanks get refilled before Saveyer is done. Saveyer Jug, as in Save yer @$$, is pronounced “Savior”.
I know this is a bit wordy to get to the point that water is tricky here. And heaven knows, if our biggest complaint at the end of two years is irregular water flow, then we’ve done pretty well by our organization’s standards (recent groups had a variety of gastro-intestinal illnesses, worms, a hernia, pregnancy, assault, etc.). I mean, after all, we’re not volunteering to do work in London or Boston. But I just want you to imagine moving to a new place that is roughly similar in appearance to every apartment and house you’ve inhabited for the last 25 years of your life, if a bit of a fixer-upper. But it’s not the same. Electricity is tricky, water moreso, and you know every (and I mean EVERY) detail of your neighbors’ lives (and vice versa), because there are no full walls, and certainly no insulation. The closer it is to home in the States, the harder it is to adjust – definitely true.
It certainly is interesting. As with our “Stanley” hammer that I mentioned in the last post (R.I.P.), things often seem a certain way on the surface. It might take good hard use, or just time, but usually once you push down below the surface of the water, you can see how everything is just a little off from what it seemed at first. Sometimes it’s an easy thing to adjust to, but sometimes, and some things, and some people, you have a lot of investment in – financial, emotional, or otherwise – and finding out the hard way that things are different can be a jolt. Being in a new culture can be like reliving your early teen years (remember how fun those were?) or your first years on your own, all over again – you just get to live life, see what happens, and learn from your mistakes and mistaken assumptions.
--------------------------------
A last, slightly more amusing note – the language barrier here is at times hilarious and also absolutely mystifying. The two of us love that it’s *the two of us*, and that as a couple we get to go through most every interaction together. This increases our comprehension of conversations to about 70%, and one of us can usually cover when the other completely misses the conversational boat. The language here is a type of Creolese, which has a distinct and differentiated form in each Caribbean country, so knowing one will only help you slightly with any other, or with Lewsiana-talk. Basically, it’s faster and clipped, and a lot of grammar rules are dropped. Few prepositions (at, to, from), and there’s only one pronoun form used for each person – me he she we you they. Also, tenses are highly optional.
Rough examples (and remember, we’re not masters yet):
English Local Creolese
I went down there. Me go down deh.
Tell him to come downstairs. Tell he com bottom.
(Upstairs is “top”: Most buildings are only two levels, so there’s just Top and Bottom).
We went down there. Awbedee deh.
Yeah, you like that last one? Lots of times “we” becomes “Awbee”. I think it’s like “We’ll ALL BE doing …whatever”. And then “We’re going down” or “Let’s all go” becomes Awbedee. I spent a good 3 or 4 days trying to figure out who the heck this Awbee person was, and why I never met them, especially when they were always mentioned in conjunction with some group activity of which I was a part.
Oh, here’s one last one. When a local sees something demonstrated by some masterful person, snorts, and retorts “Ikoodadooda”, smile and agree. Of course they could have done that.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Post Two of the Day
From Him:
We've now been at site for a week and a half. Things are going smoothly. We're getting to know people, getting our living arrangements worked out, starting to go out visiting people and places, and running our summer program 2 days a week; my partner does literacy work, and I do some computer literacy -- typing, working with Microsoft Office, etc. I was having some random thoughts the other day after I finished working with the students in the computer lab, so I typed them out and saved them.
When I used to think of South America, I thought Spanish. I thought burritos, beans and rice, and so forth. I was wrong. Forget the fact that Brazil, larger than the continental United States, speaks Portuguese, and exports more beef than the U.S. There’s also the Caribbean. That’s where we are. Bear that in mind, as you read about our adventures and experiences.
Aside from this awakening, the two of us have learned a few other things. Here are some examples:
Things I have learned:
Traveling at 140 km an hour in a minibus isn’t scary, when you think that 5 km = 2 miles – so, less than 60 mph. When you realize that the ratio is more like 3 km to 2 miles, meaning that you’re going more like 90 mph, it’s much scarier.
Some cockroaches just can’t be killed. They can only be negotiated with.
Just because a hammer says “Stanley” on the side doesn’t mean that it’s a Stanley Steel hammer; it could easily break, for example, the very first time you use it, leaving you to discover that, beneath the yellow veneer of the handle, it's constructed of some strange crappy plasticish material. You need to look for the “Stanley” manufactured (embedded) into the steel hammer head.
Carrying 1 five-gallon water jug (almost 50 lbs.) makes you strong and manly in the eyes of others. Carrying 2 makes you stronger and manlier to them – and really stupid to yourself.
Curtains are much more important than you realize.
8 o’clock is a perfectly reasonable bedtime if flying bugs are all over your house, attracted by the light. 7 o’clock is fine too, if there’s a blackout.
Killing 40 wasps in 2 days does absolutely nothing to diminish the number flying in through the windows every afternoon.
When you’re the new person in town, and everyone knows it, and you’ll only be around for a limited period of time, you easily become an Anonymous Confessor. People will often tell you much more than you need to know about situations, or history.
Thank God for books.
Thank God for curry.
You think that Z is Zee. But it’s not. It’s Zed. This can cause more problems than you might think. (Stupid British influences...)
You can easily bathe in one bucket of water. In fact, if you put forth a little effort, you can do everything below the head in about a 1/2 gallon. Hairwashing, facewashing, and shaving take up the rest of the bucket.
Taking a chicken from squawking to being eaten is less work than I expected.
We've now been at site for a week and a half. Things are going smoothly. We're getting to know people, getting our living arrangements worked out, starting to go out visiting people and places, and running our summer program 2 days a week; my partner does literacy work, and I do some computer literacy -- typing, working with Microsoft Office, etc. I was having some random thoughts the other day after I finished working with the students in the computer lab, so I typed them out and saved them.
When I used to think of South America, I thought Spanish. I thought burritos, beans and rice, and so forth. I was wrong. Forget the fact that Brazil, larger than the continental United States, speaks Portuguese, and exports more beef than the U.S. There’s also the Caribbean. That’s where we are. Bear that in mind, as you read about our adventures and experiences.
Aside from this awakening, the two of us have learned a few other things. Here are some examples:
Things I have learned:
Traveling at 140 km an hour in a minibus isn’t scary, when you think that 5 km = 2 miles – so, less than 60 mph. When you realize that the ratio is more like 3 km to 2 miles, meaning that you’re going more like 90 mph, it’s much scarier.
Some cockroaches just can’t be killed. They can only be negotiated with.
Just because a hammer says “Stanley” on the side doesn’t mean that it’s a Stanley Steel hammer; it could easily break, for example, the very first time you use it, leaving you to discover that, beneath the yellow veneer of the handle, it's constructed of some strange crappy plasticish material. You need to look for the “Stanley” manufactured (embedded) into the steel hammer head.
Carrying 1 five-gallon water jug (almost 50 lbs.) makes you strong and manly in the eyes of others. Carrying 2 makes you stronger and manlier to them – and really stupid to yourself.
Curtains are much more important than you realize.
8 o’clock is a perfectly reasonable bedtime if flying bugs are all over your house, attracted by the light. 7 o’clock is fine too, if there’s a blackout.
Killing 40 wasps in 2 days does absolutely nothing to diminish the number flying in through the windows every afternoon.
When you’re the new person in town, and everyone knows it, and you’ll only be around for a limited period of time, you easily become an Anonymous Confessor. People will often tell you much more than you need to know about situations, or history.
Thank God for books.
Thank God for curry.
You think that Z is Zee. But it’s not. It’s Zed. This can cause more problems than you might think. (Stupid British influences...)
You can easily bathe in one bucket of water. In fact, if you put forth a little effort, you can do everything below the head in about a 1/2 gallon. Hairwashing, facewashing, and shaving take up the rest of the bucket.
Taking a chicken from squawking to being eaten is less work than I expected.
Post One of the Day
From Her:
(Written about a week ago -- our swearing-in was Thursday, 7/26/07)
We did it! We’re officially volunteers now. Our swearing-in ceremony was held at the U.S. Ambassador’s house in the capital city. It was a gorgeous, balmy, humid day. Everyone dressed up in their formal dresses and ties. Girls wore their hair down for the first time in two months (it’s too hot to wear it down here). We were serenaded by a steel-drum band that played hits by Lauren Hill and Celine Dion. They also played our national anthem, which was still surprisingly inspiring to listen to, even when performed on a steel-drum. Speeches were given by His Excellency, the Ambassador; the country director; the Minister of Health and a representative from the Ministry of Education; and the best speech of all was given by one of the trainees, whom we appointed unanimously to give the speech for us. After being sworn-in and receiving our pins and certificates, we enjoyed a variety of appetizers, including chocolate éclairs, chicken curry pastries, tuna balls, and chicken and vegetable pastries. Two members from each host family were invited to attend as well. Our mom and dad attended the event.
The highlight of the day was by far the party that we threw for all volunteers, host families, and staff. My partner and I were involved in the planning committee, and with everyone’s help, the party turned out to be a great success. We were glad to help with it. After all, we planned a wedding….this was no big deal! The host families helped to prepare the food, which was delicious! The menu included:
Phoulouri dipped in Mango Sour (fried balls made from split pea flour)
Dhal Puri (Roti with the yellow split peas inside)
Chicken Curry with Potatoes
Cookup (Rice and Beans)
Channa (chickpeas with spices)
Fruit
If we were to plan our wedding again, I think this would definitely be my new menu. The food here is amazing. The party was a great time to talk with current volunteers and to get to know them a little better. This was also the last night to be able to spend time with our host families. We will definitely miss them! I know I will be making frequent phone calls to ask for cooking help (it was agreed by everyone that our mom was the best cook in our village).
While on the subject of food, we are no longer in the lap of luxury that we had during training. We will be making all of our food from here on out. Luckily, I did learn how to make some of the dishes and wrote down instructions for them. We just got a refrigerator delivered, and we bought an electrical two-burner range top to do our cooking. The first night we couldn’t get the range top to work, so we ate barely cooked okra. I would not recommend it! We’re looking forward to going to the market on Saturday and asking them to kill and pluck a chicken for us. I think I might have to look away as they do this.
(Written about a week ago -- our swearing-in was Thursday, 7/26/07)
We did it! We’re officially volunteers now. Our swearing-in ceremony was held at the U.S. Ambassador’s house in the capital city. It was a gorgeous, balmy, humid day. Everyone dressed up in their formal dresses and ties. Girls wore their hair down for the first time in two months (it’s too hot to wear it down here). We were serenaded by a steel-drum band that played hits by Lauren Hill and Celine Dion. They also played our national anthem, which was still surprisingly inspiring to listen to, even when performed on a steel-drum. Speeches were given by His Excellency, the Ambassador; the country director; the Minister of Health and a representative from the Ministry of Education; and the best speech of all was given by one of the trainees, whom we appointed unanimously to give the speech for us. After being sworn-in and receiving our pins and certificates, we enjoyed a variety of appetizers, including chocolate éclairs, chicken curry pastries, tuna balls, and chicken and vegetable pastries. Two members from each host family were invited to attend as well. Our mom and dad attended the event.
The highlight of the day was by far the party that we threw for all volunteers, host families, and staff. My partner and I were involved in the planning committee, and with everyone’s help, the party turned out to be a great success. We were glad to help with it. After all, we planned a wedding….this was no big deal! The host families helped to prepare the food, which was delicious! The menu included:
Phoulouri dipped in Mango Sour (fried balls made from split pea flour)
Dhal Puri (Roti with the yellow split peas inside)
Chicken Curry with Potatoes
Cookup (Rice and Beans)
Channa (chickpeas with spices)
Fruit
If we were to plan our wedding again, I think this would definitely be my new menu. The food here is amazing. The party was a great time to talk with current volunteers and to get to know them a little better. This was also the last night to be able to spend time with our host families. We will definitely miss them! I know I will be making frequent phone calls to ask for cooking help (it was agreed by everyone that our mom was the best cook in our village).
While on the subject of food, we are no longer in the lap of luxury that we had during training. We will be making all of our food from here on out. Luckily, I did learn how to make some of the dishes and wrote down instructions for them. We just got a refrigerator delivered, and we bought an electrical two-burner range top to do our cooking. The first night we couldn’t get the range top to work, so we ate barely cooked okra. I would not recommend it! We’re looking forward to going to the market on Saturday and asking them to kill and pluck a chicken for us. I think I might have to look away as they do this.
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