Well here I am. At the end of the road. Well, maybe not a road, more like a long twisting side street of my life filled with bizarre experiences, unique people, and the rather vivid memories that include goat slaughtering and 1 liter of water showers. I arrived in Praia today, the capital city where I will conclude all my Peace Corps business and be on my marry way. Of course I could not have said my final goodbye to the Cape Verdean people without a truly Cape Verdean experience: as many of you know, my landlady is completely crazy. Well, maybe I haven't mentioned this before, but she literally is completely crazy. She spends most of her time in Italy leaving her niece to take care of her apartment building and clothing store underneath. Those were the salad days. Well, unfortunately, she has been back in good ol' Sao Vicente now for about a month and a completely harassing, unreasonable individual. Peace Corps always pays their rent, they rarely have problems with landlords of any kind that I have ever heard of. But she has been claiming to high holy heaven that Peace Corps has been cheating her out of her rent and that she will take them to the newspapers if she has to! Well today concluded the scene with some truly spectacular yelling on both my and her parts in the middle of the road. I had to catch my flight at 12:00 and she was refusing to let me leave! She wouldn't take the keys from me, until she had confirmed with everyone she could that the rent had been paid. She wanted to drive around to her bank, wait there, call her financial person, who conveniently happened to be in the hospital for some sort of finger cut and so on. She yelled to me in the middle of the street that she was a victim in all this and that PC was going to cheat her out of her money! (By the way, Peace Corps of course has copies of all the receipts from deposits and transfers and so on). So I asked her if she wanted me to leave the keys outside the door when I left, if that would be better. She screamed that she was going to the bank and if the deposit hadn't shown up she was going straight to the newspaper to report PC and their awful, cheating ways. Oh brother. Anyway, I'm done with all that. I think it shows how much I've grown simply by the fact that I didn't cry and sit on the stoop in the fetal position.

So here I am, the last leg of my journey and it's like all events in our lives that come to an end. It feels like merely a blip on the radar. But when I stop and think, and examine myself I see that it has had a profound effect on my life and way of thinking. I would like to think that I have had a similar effect on some of the people here, but I cannot be sure. The world is changing so fast for the people here and they're catching up at record speed. Today on my flight, I saw a Cape Verdean man with an iPhone. It's incredible how much things have changed here even in the past two years.

This is experience is something I can't really sum up in words. I hope my blogs have been sufficient to share with you all a glimpse of my experiences, but I know that when I get back to the States, that I will still get pressed for the 6 second sum up of "So, how was it?" Well, it was fine. We all have forms and states of being, and for most volunteers, living here or any other country is simply another state of being. It's harder sometimes, sure. But human beings adapt at extraordinary rates and to adapt to different environments is practically what we were born to do. I loved my time here and no, it was not all easy, and of course having no water isn't ideal. But I didn't quit, which means I proved 100% of the people I know wrong. But it also means that if I can do it, anyone can. And volunteering isn't something that has to be done on a global scale. It can be a simple thing you do locally, but it's more often than not quite rewarding. Ok, I've had my PC poster-child spiel.

But I also want to thank everyone who supported me throughout this whole experience. It was often very comforting to know that people were interested in what I was doing and wanted to read about what I had to say. And of course a very special thank you to everyone who sent me packages and goodies. You have no idea how much easier life becomes with a simple little Ziplock bag :). Honestly, I cannot express my gratitude, and I hope that my blogs and photos were sufficient enough to provide you with a decent understanding of my life. Sometimes it's nice to live vicariously.

So I sign off from my blog, and sit in Praia for the next week, and then it's a nice little vacation in London after that. And then home. Finally.

So, I have a small observation to make about this country. Probably one of the last observations I will make. But it's something that strikes me as interesting simply because it's so purely cultural as to be quite unique I think. I was invited out by my adult English students to have a drink and perhaps a slice of pizza. My class decided that they wanted to meet outside of school at a place where we all could 'hang out.' At least that's what I understood to be the general consensus as it usually is with these social events. There were only 5 students in the class, so including me, we were only 6. An adequate size for an amiable group of people to simply hang out. But this term 'hang out' doesn't really exist here. The place they chose to go was loud and full of large tvs playing DVDs of live concerts by musicians, most of whom I had never heard of. So we sat, and drank Cokes and ate pizza and.....watched tv? I don't have a tv in my house, as I feel that it is not worth spending the money to watch three channel, one of which shows soccer 24/7. No thanks. But to socialize here is something entirely different then what I was used to in America. I can't imagine a group of my friends or my family going out to a restaurant and just sit there watching TV. We interact, we discuss, we talk and laugh and joke. Right? I mean, there are the exceptions, such as if we go specifically to a sports bar to watch a huge championship or something. But I don't remember CPK, or PF Changs having big screen tvs with music videos blasting. But it's even on a smaller scale. Nilton and I went over to his friend's house on Saturday night, because it was his friend's birthday. His friend's girlfriend was also there, so it was a nice group of the four of us. But right when we got there, he proceeded to turn on the TV and insert one of those famous music video DVDs and blast it. We could hardly hear each other. And for me, the foreigner, hearing the language properly is crucial in understanding what the heck someone is trying to say to you. So needless to say I simply kept my mouth shut most of the time, which is a shame, because wasn't the point of that situation to talk and socialize?

So that got me to thinking. What exactly is there to socialize about here? This is a small country and almost nothing on a grand scale ever happens here. If you think about the things you talk about with your family and friends in a social setting, almost none of those things exist here on a grand scale. Apple isn't releasing the new iPod or iPhone here, and there are no competitors trying to take over the cell phone market. There is not a huge world-changing presidential election here (although the last election here in May was very exciting, I doubt it was a blip on anyone's radar) that may effect the pitiful American economy or the global view of Americans. Cape Verde isn't making headways in the campaign for off-shore drilling, or saving the environment. The college I teach at isn't packed with Emo students drinking their way through 8am Intro classes. There just aren't these grand 'events' that unite the people here. They have nothing to discuss. I don't mean this to sound as though these people are just floating around living their lives, but in a way they are. Which is probably a good part of the reason why I'm here. But the population here is soooo small, under 500,000 people, that things are done one a much smaller scale. There are only so many people who work in the government and only so many people who work at a university, or a bank. Everyone knows everyone else, at least on each island. Just think about this: my first island, Boa Vista had a population of just over 4,000 people; the university I will attend next year has 10 times that amount of people in their undergraduate population, almost the exact number of people who live on my current island. Again, I stress that ASU, alone, has the same number of people as the island I currently live on and I live in the second largest city in the country. So I hope you can imagine what socializing here is, or is not.

Now, I'm definitely not saying that when my friends in America and I get together we discuss the geo-political ramifications of the Nintento Wii. I'm simply saying that we talk, comfortably about existence in general, an existence that seems to be so much richer with sensory overload that the only thing we can do is spit it all out when we interact. Here it's not like that. There is almost a complete lack of sensory input which therefor requires an additional buffer when you are in a social situation (enter the live concerts on DVD).

Anyway, that was my observation. In other news, my mother comes to visit me on Saturday, yay!!! And I leave this country in 37 days. Woohoo!!

So I'm back after yet another little break away from this blog. I find that my experiences aren't worthy of expression not because what I do is boring, but, well, because what I do is boring. I've expressed this before: I lead a normal life, nothing really that interesting happens to me because I live in a large-ish city, and I don't feel that my day to day activities warrant time spent writing or reading about them.

But, as school is winding down, I feel that I must share something, or no one will believe that I actually experienced anything of value these last few months. I have one official week of class left, although unofficially, two of my three classes have already ended and will not be meeting again. Woohoo! My experience with this school has been like experiencing ice cream and pickles at the same time (although some would argue that's a good blend of snack items, I can't believe that). The ice cream is the time I spend in the classroom and planning for the classes that I find so fascinating. I loooooovvved my literature class, mostly because I love literature of any kind. These classes were the best, and I was motivated to teach which transfered then to my students who seemed motivated to learn. The pickle side (and you all know how much I hate pickles) of the job was dealing with the administration. The director of this school I can only describe in certain company because the adjectives I feel describe her best are not words the general public should hear coming from such a well-brought up lady such as myself. Let's just say that she is difficult and mean and values formality and procedure far above the education of her students. She is an opportunist and micromanager and rarely produces any work of her own. She teaches one class that she rarely shows up for and is absent on account of 'sickness' more times than the rest of the teachers combined. As the director of the school, I understand that it's important to keep order, but her methods and policies are absurd and I am not the first person to notice. There is nothing I can do, however, as I do not have the power to try and help her see the error of her ways, also I think that would be a little presumptuous of the American 25-year-old with a simple BA degree to explain to the 40-something Cape Verdean director how she should do her job. So I live with it, like Peace Corps volunteers have lived with it in the past, and all I can do is warn the future volunteers to be wary and try to hold their temper.

But in other news, I have put my countdown back up on my wall. I had a countdown last year when I was preparing to go to England, and now it's back with the countdown for leaving. I leave this island in exactly 45 days. It's NOTHING!! And my mother arrives in 15 days to spend a couple of weeks with me, which will be nice. After I leave my island I will spend 3 days in Praia, the capital, just wrapping things up. Then I depart for London to spend a week before finally heading home. I arrive in Phoenix August 14th at 6:05pm (because I know you all want to be at the airport to welcome me:). And I cannot wait.

I have good news: I'm coming home August 5th.

Depending on the travel arrangements, etc. I will leave around the 5th and end up home the 5th or the 6th of August.

Hallelujah.

See you all then :)

The bottom photo is of the Americans, except the one who is taking the picture.
The top is the hotel we stayed in. It was so cute

The top is a view of Porto Novo, the port city in Santo Antão

The next two are the clouds going over the mountain. I am no photographer, so I hope I was able to capture these ok.

I have never been to Hawaii or the Canary Islands, nor any other island chain or archipelago, so I cannot make any unbiased judgments about the archipelago I am currently living on. But this place can be so breathtakingly beautiful, it’s astounding that more people have not noticed. In a way, I suppose this is a good thing, as if more people knew, the scenery and landscapes would not be quite as pure and untouched as they are now. This past weekend, the Americans and I had a mini-break on the island of Santo Antão. The island is about a 45 minute ferry ride from Mindelo, São Vicente (for those not keeping track, that is where I currently live). You cannot get to Santo Antão by any other means, as the terrain is such that the airport was shut down for safety reasons. SA is one of the largest islands in Cape Verde, and it is all completely untouched by any outside influence. It is one of the most purely Cape Verdean islands I have seen.
When you get off the ferry, you arrive in a town that looks like it was leftover from the development of Mindelo. It is similar because it is immediately accessible from Mindelo and therefore a little more ‘modern’ with amenities slightly easier to obtain. As you drive away from the Port town and into the mountains, you climb higher and higher until you can see Mindelo from across the channel. This side of the island is browner, and even looks a little like the Rocky Mountains in Arizona. But the drive itself is amazing. You continue to climb until you reach the clouds and there is so much moisture in the air that it is practically raining. You find yourself driving through the clouds and the air is thicker than any other fog you have ever been through. But then you reach a point where the clouds are below you and in fact only on one side of the island, running like a waterfall over the mountains to the other side. You now have to get out and climb a little ways on foot, as the road has stopped, but the highest peak is still above you. The air is crisp and there are pine trees everywhere. It reminds you of camp and the smell of pine-filled mountains take you back to your childhood when the biggest problem that faced you was the fear of getting pulled out of bed to go ‘Polar-Bearing’ in the freezing-cold lake the next morning. Your current problems have been left behind, under the clouds, and most certainly await you when you return to reality. But for now, you are above them, literally, and the world is serene, quiet, and the air is so crisp you can feel yourself breathing for the first time in a long time. You can see 360˚ around the entire island and on both sides, the clouds are pouring over the mountains below you, moving quicker than you ever imagined, and looking almost like a quiet version of Niagara Falls. You sit at the top and simply breathe because that is the only thing to do and the only thing you can actually hear.
But it is getting late and there are other things to see. You climb back down to the little town where you have parked your car. You have rented a car because as those crazy kids are saying these days, you are traveling like a ‘baller.’ It is easier to see a place and go where you choose when you do not have to rely on public transportation to squeeze you into a seat next to bunches of bananas and people carrying chickens. So you go ‘baller’ style and discover that you can control the direction you are going; an idea that has been a little lost lately. With your destination town in front of you, you drive on, down the other side of the mountain and through the clouds again. The road is not really a road, but a one-lane cobblestone thrill ride that leaves you puzzled as to how they ever cut through all the rock and mountain to construct such a thing. The people here do not have Caterpillar machines or fancy rock-carving technology; plus we are talking about roads that were created years and years ago. So you drive carefully because the cliffs on either side are at 90˚ angles to the road and one wrong turn and the ribeira is the last thing you will ever see. But being above the deep-cut rocks is all that has your attention at the moment, and it reminds you a little of the spectacular nature of the Grand Canyon. Sometimes, Nature surprises you in the most astounding ways.
You reach the town of Paul where Peace Corps Volunteers have been in the past, but have recently vacated for one reason or the other, and you marvel at the purity of the town. There aren’t words to describe it; it is simply a small town, cuddling against the mountains, shying away from the ferocious waves that crash on the other side of the town’s only road. You stay the first night here with a cute little Italian man who runs a cute little bed and breakfast he has built himself to preserve the inherent nature of his surroundings. His modern-style buildings are brightly colored and yet blend in with the background. Your room has a large balcony and the most magnificent view of the ocean. On the other side of the balcony, you can see the statue of Saint Anthony, patron saint of lost children. He is standing several feet tall holding a little child in his arms and watching over the town on the island that bears his name.
The next morning you continue your drive through the ribeiras and see that every piece of accessible land is tiered for farming. These people have taken advantage of all the resources they can to build a small life for themselves. Nearly everyone on the island is a farmer on one capacity or another. And for good reason: the earth is rich, the land fertile, and the food needed. It is not easy work, however, as the mountains are steep and difficult to climb. They seem to have no problem accessing places on the mountaintops that you would never dare to venture.
The next day is spend driving around the island, visiting remote little towns where Peace Corps volunteers actually live and enjoy themselves. Of course everyone in the town knows them, so when you show up in a group of white people, they simply assume you are looking for the only other white person for miles. You eat cheese homemade by a German man who has chosen to liv his life on a mountaintop making cheese and grogue and serving it to the tourists who make the climb specially for his delicious cheese. And when you ask for a salad, he goes into his garden and picks all the ingredients for you including edible flowers, and you savor the taste of the freshest salad you have ever eaten, as it is probably still growing as it sits on your plate.
That night you spend the night on a hill top at a nice hotel that serves fancy dinner to the usual multitudes of guests. But tonight it is your group only and you get all the attention of the bored but content staff.
Sunday is driving again, and it's the dreaded drive back under the clouds and back to reality, and you wonder how the most beautiful place can be so close to the city full of people and noise and again more people. As someone who has lived on a flat deserty island, and then in a large-ish city, the landscapes and tranquility and grandeur of this island was absolutely astounding. I dearly hope to go back some day.

There are several things to say at this point, but I had an interesting thought the other day. To continue my observations and amusements of the Cape Verdean people, I discovered something interesting recently. My first year English students, to whom I teach Literature, recently read O. Henry's "The Gift of the Maji" and they loved it. Usually I get a lukewarm response from my students; usually a select few like the story I assign and the rest are completely indifferent. But this one they actually got into, and they participated in class more than usual, too. I was surprised, I didn't think that this particular story would have such an effect.
Briefly, for those who are not familiar, "The Gift of the Maji" is the story of a couple who sacrifice their most precious possessions in order to buy the other a nice gift for Christmas. The story is ironic, in that the woman cuts her long and very beautiful hair to buy a gold chain for her husband's pocket watch. The husband, however, has sold this watch to buy combs for the woman's hair. So in the end they are both left with fairly useless gifts.
Anyway, I asked the question: "Who do you think made the greater sacrifice and why?" Well here is where the debate started. I always thought that the man made the greater sacrifice simply because hair grow back, and eventually the cobs would be useful again. But it would cost money to get back the man's watch. This was my assumption, and I wrongly assumed again that everyone believed what I did. Boy was I wrong. When I went to put this response on the board, there was an uproar in class like I had never seen. Oddly enough, it was the boys in my class who voiced the loudest protests. Hair, they claimed, was such a precious thing, that to get rid of it would be the biggest shame. The watch was a watch, they said, get some money from somewhere and you can buy it back easily. It was all the boys in the class who spoke out against cutting hair, which led me to my thoughts about the different opinions Cape Verdeans have for beauty and appearance.
Cape Verdeans have this opinion about hair that treats it kind of like this precious commodity. It wasn't until I asked Nilton and other Cape Verdeans I know that I realized that hair is like a status symbol. It kind of goes back to the whole 'mixed race' status I have mentioned before. A 'pure blooded' African has hair that's thick and course and breaks easily. Those that are more interracial have finer hair that can be brushed and styled and not just simply braided. Children and adults alike are often touching my hair, and when (on extremely rare occassions) it is blow dried and worn down, I always get comments and exclamations and more attention on the street. I've been told that cutting my hair would amount to a minor crime and that I would then be ugly. Well I always been sort of attached to my hair so I'm pretty sure I won't be cutting it short again any time soon.

On a separate note, as I have been here so long, I feel myself completely separated from American reality. I have this romanticized ideal of what America is and all I can seem to think about is the good. I know that when I get back home, I will be sourly disappointed with the state of things there, but I just haven't been there in almost two years. So much can happen and my memories and feelings have warped. My perspectives and views are all off I know, but I just can't relate to life there anymore. I was writing this blog about hair, and then I realized, well, maybe they do feel the same about hair in America as they do in Cape Verde. I actually have no clue. I can't comment on the differences anymore because I don't know what they are. I'm in this 'purgatory' state almost, not part of this culture yet not part of my own. It's a bizarre feeling, one I am anxious to get rid of. I just want to go home now, back to the America I keep romanticizing. I want the reality to hit me already and then I want to get over it. I'm anxious to have my real life back. I know I have done well here, and actually if you go to the Peace Corps home page you can see my name in a recent press release :) www.peacecorps.gov

Anyway, I am anxious to get home.

Strap in kids, it’s going to be a long one.

So in fine form, I have completely neglected my blogging duties and I’m sorry about that. Being removed and then resettled followed immediately by a vacation and then immediately back to work again, and now on break from school only to go back next week, leaves my life in a little bit of whirlwind. The ability to restructure myself into a normal routine has been a little difficult as I haven’t been in any one situation long enough to do so. The last time I wrote for you all I was about to go on the vacation of a lifetime. I will begin the story there and attempt to update you with my life since then.

Kenya was amazing, except for the tiny hiccup that was elections. I had been once before but, as I was two years old, the trip didn’t exactly stick in my mind. We began in the Mara, safariing around the wilderness. The weather was your typical plains weather: beautifully warm temperatures during the day, and near death cold during the night (ok, I exaggerate, but I haven’t been in any kind of cold in the past two years. It was a different experience for me). We slept in large comfy beds with hot water bottles placed there each night by the staff. It was beautiful and serene and Ashford was the best wildlife guide a safari-er could ask for ☺. Our trip continued through a rapid succession of four more places throughout the country where we saw wildlife, took lots of pictures, and ate enough food to feed a small country (something I would have been a little bit preoccupied about, but I adopted the mentality that ‘well it’s already sitting there on the buffet, I might as well eat it, I mean, what else could I do?) The last place of this phase of the trip was spent at the Mount Kenya Safari Club where we had the most amazing view of Mt. Kenya right outside our room (ok cabin, really). Of course the first thing my dad asked was “Hey can we climb it?” Responses mostly consisted of dubious looks followed by a stumbling explanation that basically meant “I guess, if you really want too…” But really, I wouldn’t put it past him, although he was informed that it is not Kilimanjaro, and slightly more challenging. After this, it was back to Nairobi to catch a flight to the famous Mombasa, a town that has gained infamy in our family and beyond as the place to compare other places to. Everything reminded my father of Mombasa, so much so that it became a running joke in our family. We spent a week at the Diani Beech resort lounging around, swimming, and of course eating. ‘Buffet’ became my new favorite word. The only downside of this phase of the trip was the disappointment we suffered on venturing into town. The Resort is long way off from the actual island of Mombasa, and my dad wanted to spend a day touring the island remembering the days when he was young and cheeky. It was just a matter of bad timing, in that the elections had just occurred and there was some unrest beginning to show in the main towns. But I was able to meet my father’s cousin whom he hadn’t seen in years, and she was a very nice woman.
Throughout the trip we saw every animal imaginable including babies of nearly every species. It was interesting to learn about the different familial relationships within the species. My sister’s favorite animal was the dikdik and if she hasn’t told you about it yet, just ask her and then wait five minutes for her to stop laughing. Dikdiks mate for life and when the spouse dies, the other partner becomes so sad that they commit suicide. It’s sweet, but a little depressing, I know. After coming back to Cape Verde, I have been thinking about this trip and looking at all the pictures we took. My family is such an interesting thing. I honestly believe that I have the best family in the world and we get along so well, (most of the time) that I forget that we are somewhat unique. There is a moment in this trip that stands out, and it really was nothing special. We were sitting in the Nairobi airport waiting for our flight to Mombasa. We had been bumped from our flight to one that departed a few hours later; so luckily we had some playing cards with us. The airport was minuscule, a couple of gates and a small café that served lovely samosas. The five of us sat there and played a couple of card games until we children decided to teach the parents how to play Spoons. Now anyone who has ever played this game knows that it isn’t the most discrete and quiet game in existence. But the five of us played and we played together; we weren’t loud or obnoxious, but we were having fun and laughing and in a type of pleasurable harmony that isn’t so common. Other people were pointing and looking at us, not in a derogatory or malicious way, but just to say, ‘hey, look at that.’ It was a nice feeling and one that will always stay with me. The entire trip had this same feel of harmony and just enjoying ourselves and of course eating more than our weight (ok, maybe I was the only glutton on the trip; it’s a fact my friends, that I hadn’t eaten a steak in nearly two years, so I of course gobbled any and all I could find. My eating endeavors were also not quite as gross as I seem to keep describing them). Anyway, it was amazing and I will be forever grateful for the chance to experience a trip like this.

And then the 30 hour trip back to reality and my new city of Mindelo on the island of Sao Vicente. I do have to say that I absolutely love teaching in this new venue. I teach at a teacher’s college now and while most of my students are around my age, if not older, they are there because they chose to be. They applied, took the entrance exam, and paid the large amount of money it costs to go to this school. Now, admittedly, they are not all whizzes when it comes to the English Language, and I wonder sometimes as to how they tricked the entrance exam (although this may say something about said exam), but they are only first years, and I am teaching literature, in English, which I know can be something of a challenge. But English Literature was my major in college, and so I really am having a great time. This is the first year the class was taught so there were no previous syllabi or any kind of curriculum or direction they wanted to go with the class. Sooooo, I got to make up my own ☺. The best part about it is coming up with literature I think appropriate for them. I get to teach a subject I actually like to students who actually want to be there. I have had so much fun planning this semester’s classes that I am completely 100% prepared for the semester, which honestly, I don’t think I’ve been 100% prepared for anything in my whole life, sadly. Maybe this is a foreshadowing of my future…. Dental school here I come!!!! No, but really, I am enjoying it, and I like my students and more importantly, they like me. My director has called my Peace Corps office praising my work, and they’ve even given me my own desk in the coordinators’s room. I don’t coordinate anything, but I am translating the school rules and regulations for them from Portuguese into English, so maybe this earned me a desk and free internet access ☺.

As far as the new site itself is concerned, it’s s completely different from Boa Vista, I don’t even know where to start. Mindelo is the second largest city in Cape Verde, while Boa Vista was the smallest populated of all the islands. I can buy nearly anything here (except a good steak of course) and my apartment is big and I absolutely never run out of running water. All major amenities are present and there are so many restaurants that one could very easily go broke. Cruise ships park in the harbor and send the tourists abound. I sometimes miss Boa Vista; the smallness appealed to me, and I knew everyone there and my friends and I had fun going to the beach on the weekends and catching the food we were about eat. I enjoyed sitting on the stoop outside my boyfriend’s house in his two-street town, where everyone would go for the weekend and just sit outside and play cards or soccer. And then I will talk to Leland and here that one of the companies that sells water isn’t functioning at the moment and he hasn’t had water for a few days, then I smile and remember that things here are a little better. The climate isn’t so rough, the streets a little smoother, the life a little easier. And, of course, the highlight of it all: I can by sliced deli turkey and fresh lettuce! I know this does not seem like a huge deal, but how many times a week do you eat a deli sandwich? Uh huh, that’s what I thought. Imagine if there was NO deli meat (or only ham which doesn’t count for me) and you finally were able to get some turkey? It makes things just a little happier for me, along with the fabulous waxing lady I found in this cute little salon here. Aren’t you jealous that it costs me only $25 to get my entire body waxed? Ok, maybe if you’re a boy you’re not. The people here in Sao Vicente are a little different, it’s difficult to describe in words, but you see it in their actions and their behavior. The people native to each individual island are different in their own way, along with their language and mannerisms, and it’s nice to experience all this. But I like it here, I feel like it’s a small stepping stone between Sal Rei, Boa Vista and Phoenix, Arizona. At least I won’t be completely overwhelmed when I get home. Although I am completely aware that deli turkey isn’t exactly the scientific revolution of the century nor will it prepare me for the small little things that have changed in America that didn’t quite make it to international news; or all the movies I have missed for the past two years (although I did go shopping on Amazon the other day and blindly chose a few movies based on their descriptions as I had of course never heard of them nor all of this years Oscar winners I heard about. Sidebar: yay DDL, mom I know you’re happy!).

In other news, my boyfriend is still here with me in Sao Vicente. In true Cape Verdean fashion, the bank they were building on Boa Vista is of course behind schedule so he’s here until they finish the building. The Cape Verdean system owed me one anyway. He was supposed to leave at the end of January and he hasn’t heard any word as to when they are sending him back to Boa Vista. So, good for me.

Well I have just under five months left of my service here and I can practically taste America. The closer it gets, the harder it is for me to wait. I have an entire semester left of school, and yet five months seems like nothing in the grade scheme of things. This is what we call the home stretch and my mind is racing to begin the next phase of my life. When my mind isn’t occupied it often wanders to America, planning what I will do when I get there, what I will eat first, and then the days after that (hey, I’m a Fazel, of course my mind is on food). This is why I try to keep my mind occupied, because otherwise it just cries for America, and then my mouth waters, and then I remember lovely conveniences like free refills. I explained this concept to Nilton the other day and he was quite impressed. It’s the little things, my friends, the little things.

Well, this time around I am writing you all from Mindelo, São Vicente, my new home for the next few months. Mindelo is the second largest city in Cape Verde and so much more exciting in many ways. I have to say that I was not very happy about my "evacuation" from Boa Vista, as I had really enjoyed my time there. They tell you it generally takes about a year to fully settle in to your site and then the second year is always more comfortable and more fun. I must say that it is very true. But just when I thought all was comfortable, I was yanked out of my comfort zone and thrown into a brand new, much larger place. Mindelo is easy to get lost in, not just literally, but figuratively as well. This city is so alive and you will hear many people tell you that Mindelo is the smallest big city in the world. Everyone knows each other, but it's big enough that if you want to avoid someone, you can. The grocery stores are virtually unlimited and (gasp!) even open on Sundays! I can't tell you the exact population, but it's fairly large and just so alive. The change from Boa Vista is like night and day. When discussing my future options with Peace Corps, they were nice enough to let me basically have my choice of locations to go. I chose Mindelo because I had been here once before (last February for Mardi Gras)and loved the feel and ambiance of the place. It's large, but it's not Praia which I find too large and the shadow of the Peace Corps staff right over my shoulder. Here I can still walk anywhere within a maximum of fifteen minutes and the stores are plentiful and cheap. My apartment is very nice, it has two bedrooms and two bathrooms and I live in it by myself! Which is a little scary, and I'm thinking (to the objections of my mother) of getting a dog. It will keep me company and hopefully prevent a break-in which is unfortunately fairly common here. Anyway, I'm still thinking about it.

As far as my job goes, I will be teaching at Institute Superior do Educação (ISE) which is like a teaching college. It's where students go to school to learn how to be teachers. It is a higher education institution and I will be teaching a class that I may not be 100% qualified for, but most people tend to have faith in me, so I'll do my best. The class is called Cultural Literature in English Speaking Countries. Let's all give a round of applause for the fact that I may actually be using my college degree!! (I majored in English Literature). But I am nervous because, while the students will be easier and actually want to be there, they will also be my age and so I fear for my control of authority. But today is my first day and so let's hope that all goes well. I will just be giving introductions and doing a short little exercise. I will miss my students at the high school in Boa Vista, especially my new little 8th graders. They were just so cute!! But there is nothing much I can do about it really, and I'm sure they will have very little problem finding a new teacher.

Well as far as bad situations go, mine could have turned out worse. I never wanted to leave Boa Vista, but the outcome of this whole thing really worked out ok. I am in a city I think I will grow to love, expanding my teaching skills by teaching at a higher level of learning, and meeting new people which is always fun. Also, there are three very good friends of mine who completed their Peace Corps service this past summer. They stayed here in Mindelo and have opened up a English school of their own. Their business is going well and I'm grateful to have them here. Casey taught at ISE for the past two years and so she has been a tremendous help. I am just grateful that there is someone else here who has been through the same experience and is willing to help me through. Oh yes, things could be worse.

There are only three words I can think of for my current situation: THINGS FALL APART. It reminds be of the Chinua Achebe novel, although I must admit I have never read it even though I know my father is a fan. He is also a fan of the phrase "All good things must come to an end." He is generally right in a lot of these philosophical aspects. Anyway, let me explain.

For a while now, I have been dealing with a little (rather harmless in my opinion) stalker problem. The man is from Boa Vista, teaches at the high school and is believed to be slightly mentally imbalanced. I believe he is also a homosexual (not that this belief is in general an issue, but it is particularly relevant to the story). So why has he targeted me, you might ask. He has an obsession with my boyfriend, Nilton. Nilton is also a teacher at the school and we all worked more or less in harmony last school year. Since Nilton and I have begun dating, he targeted us both when we were together. I have to say that mental illness and homosexuality is treated as somewhat of a laughable folly in this country. Neither are taken seriously, nor do most people even believe that homosexuality exists in this country. I assure you, it does. But let me give you an example. When explaining my situation a while ago to the chief of police on Boa Vista, he finally understood that this man had a homosexual obsession with Nilton and not a heterosexual obsession with me. As the realization struck him, he shook his head as if negating what I had said. Clearly he thought I was mistaken and told me so. "No," he said. "That doesn't happen here. No." This man was a fairly educated person I had though.

About a month ago, the stalking escalated. From what I've learned since then, this man was on medication and had around that time stopped taking his medication for whatever reason. I must also point out that since the stalking and harassment started, the director of the school no longer allows him to teach class, but he is the monitor of the library. She does not have the power to fire him, that is left up to the Ministry of Education. Each school zone has a Delegate of the Ministry that is in charge of all things related to education in that particular zone. It is his or her responsibility then to evaluate the situation and make recommendations to the Ministry in the capital city Praia. Let me just point out that this situation should have been dealt with before the school year started. I have several rants and raves about our Delegate, one being that he is particularly useless, but I would be wasting time and energy complaining about someone I can do nothing about. Anyway, the man now being off his medication was free to allow his mind to wander and eventually made up an entire history for me. When he saw me on the street he screamed obscenities at me, and claimed I was a criminal. The final straw came one Saturday while I was waiting in the teacher's lounge at school for my class to start. He came into the room and spoke to me in English. Luckily for me, another English teacher was in the room and she was able to witness and understand everything that was said to me. Basically he called me a criminal again claiming that my name was not Nadia, and that I had killed several people in the US. He then continued to say that if I continued there he would kill me. Following a meeting with the two of us, the school director, the two witnesses in the teachers' lounge, and the useless Delegate, the ministry agreed finally to do an investigation.

As I said before, mental unbalance is taken so lightly here. People treat it as a joke. Even the police. This man went to the police with his papers he had written about this supposed secret life of mine he had uncovered and they all but laughingly told him to fax it to the Embassy of the United States here in Praia. The Embassy people would take care of it, they need to know! He took their advice in stride. Obviously not realizing the humor and joke of it all, he proceeded to fax this ridiculous information to the Embassy. That's when I got pulled out of Boa Vista.

I am currently in the capital city of Praia and have been for nearly the past two weeks. The decision has been made that I am never to return to Boa Vista so long as I am a Peace Corps volunteer. The exception is when I go back accompanied by a member of the staff to pack my things. I will be there for less than 24 hours before I move to my new home in Mindelo, Sao Vicente. The Peace Corps has been extremely difficult and stressful to deal with, but they have allowed me to choose where I would like to be relocated which was nice of them. I have chosen Mindelo for a few reasons, but mostly because I have visited the city before and I liked it a lot. It has all the amenities of Praia without the Peace Corps constantly breathing down my neck. I will be the only current volunteer there which means I will be living on my own, but there are three other "Returned" PC volunteers, meaning they completed their service. All three are friends of mine as they just completed their service this past summer. I have known them for over a year now. I will be teaching at the Instituto Superior de Educacao, which is not a high school. It's a type of college where students go to learn how to be teachers. My students will be older, they will speak English, generally, and they will be there to learn. It should be interesting.

Please. I did not mean to alarm anyone with this story. I want you all to know that I am ok and while a little emotionally exhausted and at times a little depressed, I am still trying to keep a positive attitude about my new life. It's just such a bummer because it took so much to settle into the life I had on Boa Vista, and to be ripped out of there without hardly any notice has pretty much turned my world upside down. I now sit in limbo in Praia while the Peace Corps finds me a suitable house. The only positive side about being in the capital during this time is going to the bug Thanksgiving dinner at the American Ambassador's house tomorrow evening. All PC volunteers on this island are invited, but you have to bring a side dish. I am staying with another volunteer while I'm here in Praia which is nice, because I'm not by myself in a strange hotel at least. Anyway, she and I will be making broccoli cheese to take to the festivities, and I'm happy that I can spend this holiday with a bunch of Americans and a lot of turkey! Yes, they have whole turkeys here!!!

But I am doing fine now, and I just hope that things go well for me in Mindelo. I wish all of you Americanos a very Happy Thanksgiving. And to my family, I of course miss you very much and wish I could spend this wonderful holiday with you. Perhaps next year. And to the Brits: eat a turkey sandwich in honor of the Americans :)

So let's be honest here. I am nearly 25 years old and I have developed a large zit on the right side of my chin, just below my mouth. And it's large. One of the largest I've had in a while. Having surpassed puberty a while ago, I don't generally get many outbreaks, or random huge zits; but the combination of hormones in my body, oil on my face, and stress in my life combined to form a nice little red lump on my chin. Now, you're probably asking yourself why on earth I would go through all the trouble of describing something so ugly and repulsive. The answer is this: every time I see someone I know, the zit is the first thing that's pointed out to me. Friends, students, boyfriend, even people I have just met feel it their place in life to inform me at that moment that I have a huge zit on my chin and make a face. Of course there is nothing I can do to get rid of it any faster, I just have to wait for the thing to simply go away. But that doesn't stop my boyfriend from looking at me every day and asking, "How's the zit today?" It's fine, thank you; a little cranky, but otherwise in a fairly good mood, I'm glad you asked. I have daily reminders that this thing is there, as if I actually didn't see it this morning when I looked in the mirror.

Although, the idea of a mirror is an interesting thing to talk about. Cape Verdians on the whole tend to be fairly conceited. They love taking pictures of themselves (by themselves in the photo), putting this solitary photos as backgrounds on their computers, on their Hi5 pages, and having entire photo shoots with just them, one person, in the photo. I tend to shy away from pictures, especially ones where it's just me in them, and they can't understand this. But there is a remarkably surprising lack of mirrors anywhere. In public restrooms, houses, purses, etc. Anywhere you would expect there to be a mirror, there isn't. In America, houses and public restrooms are filled with mirrors; they're even simply used as a decoration. Here there are hardly any, and none in public restrooms. Maybe that's why my zit was pointed out to me so many times: people really didn't know if I'd seen myself yet today.

So back to the zit. Last night, I went out to dinner with my friend Paolo (who I believe I've mentioned before), and he introduced me to two friends of his, a CEO of a construction company here in Boa Vista named Luis, and a woman, whose name I honestly cannot remember (thanks daddy). The four of us sat in a dark lounge for a little while and when dinner was up we moved to our dinner table over which had slightly more light. Luis looks at me and exclaims (translated) "Oh my look at that zit there. Is that because you're in love?" Um, what? There are two major things wrong with that entire statement: 1. I met you about 20 minutes ago. I'm glad you feel comfortable enough with me to not only comment on the condition of my pores, but also my love life. And 2. You're right. Love, like chocolate, causes zits. Since then three other people have made the comment about zit/love connection, and I just cannot figure that out. Anyway, so until luck blesses me (although, ironically, I just broke the mirror that was in my house last week), I have to endure the ridiculous scrutinizing of my zit, and of course in correlation, my love life.

It's nice being comfortable in your own skin. To be able to live your life without ever worrying that you're stepping on someones toes, or saying the wrong thing, or making a complete fool out of yourself. Today I had a feeling of complete contentment as I finished my classes. I have Friday afternoons completely free and I plan on making tacos for dinner :). I was in Praia at the beginning of the week and managed to buy salsa and guacamole (not that I like guacamole, but that really isn't the point). Ground beef has once again made an appearance at the local grocery stores, so tacos for dinner it is! Take that Chipotle!

While the tacos are broiling away in my house, there is absolutely no one on the island of Boa Vista at the moment. There is an obvious lack of tourists, restaurants and hotels are still closed, and the shame of it is, our famous brand new international airport is supposedly officially open. No one's flying out of it though. Last weekend and 747 came into the island just for a test run and it was such a big deal. Many important government people were there as well as locals who just wanted to see the big plane land. It went off without a hitch, so we're all still a little confused as to why this brand new fancy airport isn't bringing the tourists in by the truckload. It's a shame, really, and as much as tourism has it's ups and downs for a community, I think at this point, this island could really use a little foreign money. Tourism is this islands main source of economy and I believe that in a few years, this will be the most visited island by tourists. We will surpass Sal as the main destination, now having one of only three international airports (although, granted 3 international airports for a country the size of Rhode Island is quite a few) and more beach square footage than any other island, I think this place will just boom.

In other news, school is going really well, I do little lesson planning these days because I'm teaching the same levels and classes that I did last year, so I just stay with the same lessons. Although, I think the water gods are angry with Leland and I as we managed to flood our entire apartment last night. The water came back on very lightly, and we left the shower head in the barrel to fill up. Well we had cooked such a delicious dinner of BBQ chicken wings that we completely forgot about the barrel on the bathroom. Next thing we know, the bathroom, hallway and my bedroom are all flooded. What a waste!!! Not to mention, a lot of my books were lined up on my floor, so they are currently sunbathing on my balcony. Anyway, there was no lasting damage, and next time I don't think we'll be so careless. The water issues never cease. Sometimes, they lessen slightly, but never cease. Oh well. Thus is life.

Well, a new year, new students, and so therefore new ways to try and date the American teacher. They're finally getting creative, although of course not subtle, as nothing in this country is. I do have to say that my 8th graders just make me smile and laugh at their obvious, but oh-so-cute affection; while my 10th graders are just plain obnoxious (4 out of my 5 of my 11th graders are female and I had them last year, so I don't get any trouble from them). There is something about my 8th graders this year. I don't know if it's just a good batch, or if strategies of raising children morphed in the last year, I'm not sure. But these guys are just so into life! I have two male students in my 8A class who just give me the widest smile every time class commences. Today, as they were all filing in to the classroom, the little guy named Dener just stood right in front of my desk and had this big ol' smile plastered on his face. "Hi teacher!" he said. "HI!! Fine? Yes?!" "Yes, thank you Dener. And you?" Students filed past and tried to get by, but he fought his way to maintain his position in front of my desk with a big giant smile on his face. His height may come up to my chest. I really couldn't help but smile kindly on him and try and show him as much appreciative attention in return that I could. I expect an apple on my desk any day now.

The 10th graders, on the other hand are neither subtle nor cute. In fact, they're downright insipid bordering on contemptible. A few nights ago, after class ended three of the girls came up to me and said "Teacher, a bo é um bom pequna." Basically translated as "You are one hot babe." There was nothing I could say that would make them feel as ridiculous as they sounded to me, so I simply said "thank you ladies." A few minutes later one of the more infatuated boys came up to me and said (translated) "Teacher I have some doubts/questions about the material. Can you bring me to your house so you can help me learn better. I want to learn more." Riiiiiight I thought. Not only is it completely inappropriate (at least in my culture) for a teacher to invite an underage male student to her house, but PLEASE! You don't even have doubts on the material, you're just being ridiculous. Which is basically what I told him. Today I had those same 10th graders write an assignment in class. They were to write 5 simple sentences about themselves or someone else using adjectives and adverbs we had learned that day. For example: I am very hungry. This same cheeky boy decided to write about me and all my glorious beauty. "Nadia is very beautiful. She is extremely intelligent." (Oh yes he used my first name). I feel so honored, loved, and appreciated. It's kind of a game I'm playing with myself: see how many times I can get hit on by my students before I actually hit one of them :) Of course I'm just kidding......

Yes, I am extremely out of touch these days. I just looked over my blog site and realized it has been nearly 2 months since I last posted. This is very bad of me, I know, and I will try and update this site more often. I am now back to a semi-normal routine and will be able to write more often. Here is what's been going on with me for the past two months:

For the first time in my life I camped on the beach. Cape Verdians don't take camping lightly, and like so many things here, they are bizarrely organized. This is a thing almost all Boa Vistans do every summer as a mark of their time off. Things generally shut down for the month of August as school's not in session and it's an extreme low month for tourism. Lot's of restaurants and shops shut down (go on feria) and even a couple of hotels close their doors while business is at an extreme low. People travel, go to the beach, camp out and basically just have a vacation for a whole month. Anyway, I was invited to go on a camping trip with a bunch of my friends. There were about 60-70 people in total on this trip. Everyone pays a certain amount to cover food and drink costs, although a lot of the food is caught on the beach. One night they caught a whole bunch of little crabs and they were put in a large spaghetti pot and we had the most delicious spaget de caranguejo. Fish was caught and grilled whole and just eaten right off the grill. And one night, they even managed to catch a sea turtle. I won't go into the details of how the captured and caught it, because it was cruel and inhumane and I wanted to set the turtle free but they caught it a long way off from where the camp site was and I couldn't get there by myself in the dark. The next day the meat was cooked into a type of curry almost and eaten with rice. I have to admit that yes, I did experiment it and while I absolutely don't approved of the eating of an endangered species, I have to admit that the meat was tasty. In the interior of the islands, they eat turtle meat a lot because one fairly good size turtle can feed many people and they're caught for almost nothing, obviously because they do fishing themselves. I tried to explain to anyone that would listen that it's against the law here, and cruel to the environment. I got the same reaction I get for a lot of things I try and change: yes we know it's bad, but there's nothing we can really do about it. But the camping in general was fun. Everyone brought tents and sleeping bags to sleep in, a generator was brought to provide lights and music for the "discoteque" in the evenings. It was an unforgettable weekend and such fun. Not that I'm now a camping convert, once a year is plenty for me.

The rest of the summer was spent for the most part in Joao Galego, where all my friends live. Since there was nothing for me to do here in Vila, I spent nearly all the time I could in the interior of the island. Not that there's that much to do there either, in fact there's even less, but at least I would be doing nothing with friends.

School meetings began at the end of September and we have now been in class for about two weeks. I spent one last day at the beach with friends and we scraped conch shells off the rocks and made a really delicious arroz com mariscos. The beach we went to was again on the east side of the island and it was one of the most beautiful beaches I've seen on these islands.

At school, I'm teaching the same grades and levels as I did last year: 8th, 10th, and 11th grades. My 8th graders this year are 100% better than my students last year and for some reason they just seem smaller. But they're just so darn cute!!! I have about 80 new names to learn which makes things interesting, but they're really good kids and they listen to me which is nice. I am happy to say that none of my classes thus far has proven itself the Spawns of Satan, and I just don't think they will. I have a better feeling about things this year, I am more comfortable in my surroundings and in my life. I have friends, boyfriend, job, and I like it here. Don't get me wrong, I still ache for Chipotle and a decent salad at least once a day, but it's not quite the same sharp longing I used to have. I am happy, even though it is 100˚ outside with 100% humidity and no air conditioning in the school or my house. But you survive and learn to ignore it. So things are going very well, far better than this time last year.

Also, I have decided to upload my photos to one place that can be accessed by the public. It's just takes way too much time for me to upload them to several different places. So I have uploaded them to my Facebook page, but they are available to view by ANYONE! So here is the link, I hope you enjoy :)

http://lfc.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2016344&l=280c1&id=54500220

I sit here on a useless Monday afternoon. My eyes are tired and heavy from crying all day. I have lost my luggage for the second time in three weeks, and because I live in the most disorganized country in the world, they’re probably lost in the abyss of missing things. I have fought with airline workers on three islands and have managed to find the location of only one of the two bags I brought from London, England. It makes me think, once again, about my situation in life and the way my view changes with the surroundings I’m in. A week ago I was in a house of 15 people yet feeling liberated and free for the first time in a year. I came home to an empty apartment and a town of 2,000 people and I felt suffocated and compressed on my way to buy bread the next morning. And yet the camaraderie I felt at the music festival over the next few days could not have been matched anywhere else in the world. The people here, while so disorganized and at times backwards, can be so giving and sharing. Coming back from England has liberated me and yet confused me all at the same time. I felt relief coming back to my little apartment in my small town in the middle of nowhere and yet regret at leaving my family behind. I can see myself holing up here for the rest of my life hiding from the rest of the world and its complications, yet I can’t imagine not living the rest of my life in the United States. I feel comfortable with the people here but I ache for my family and friends I left behind. It’s been a year, and I have another year left here. I don’t know what that year will bring, and I want it to end yet am nervous for it’s culmination because then what? There are choices and decisions I dread making and a life I must choose for myself. I know I can’t have any help, nor can I please everyone with my choices. I feel torn, and I don’t like it. Being here makes me so happy and yet sick to my stomach. I miss so much from my previous life but life here is unparalleled. I know that I have done nothing but complain nearly the entire time I’ve served here, and I’m sure this blog will come as a slight shock to many of you. I’m just trying to convey a little of the confusion I’m feeling, though I’m sure I’m doing a miserable job. I guess my trip to England put my life here in perspective, one I wasn’t expecting to find.

The missing bag with all my clothes in it doesn’t help. The fact that I can’t just drive to the airport in Praia doesn’t help either. On a side note, I would like to thank all my little “bear” friends  for sending stuff with my family. I will send you a proper thank you I promise, when I don’t have 8 trillion things on my worried mind. But Derek, Stan, and Danielle, thank you so much for all you did. I really appreciated that stuff. Although, it’s all currently lost, let’s hope and pray that I will see that stuff (along with my clothes) again. I miss you guys.

Well I feel a new entry is once again long overdue. I mentioned before that July 4th is Boa Vista's municipal holiday. And they (please excuse the expression) balls out. The festivities began the weekend before with theater groups, and yes even our own Miss Boa Vista Pageant. How could I miss such an opportunity? There were 10 contestants ages 16-21 or so, and three of those 10 contestants were my 11th grade students. Nice. Well, of course it was not your typical beauty pageant. I expected (why I even create expectations for these things is still really beyond me) the ten girls to be shown in various outfits, along with maybe a talent contest, or something that would verify their respectability and reason for holding such a contest, other than to ogle the physical attributes of various (barely) adult girls. Of course, I was mostly wrong. The girls simply came out in different outfits, including bathing suits, while the same music played on repeat, people yelled, and random guys rapped in between sets. Of course, the two guys who rapped were from two different posses who of course got in fights. Although, I must say it was entertaining. None of the girls from my class won, although one did receive runner up. So congrats to her.

The festivities continued Monday night with the inauguration of the new polivalente. Tuesday night the island of Boa Vista was blessed with the (relatively) famous singer Gil Semedo in concert. He performed two nights in a row. He's considered the Cape Verde Michael Jackson. I definitely could see where they got the reference from. He prides himself on his dance moves, which I must say were amusing to say the least. In all the festivities, barracas are also set up, sort of vendor stalls that sell grilled chicken, pork skewers, french fries, and beer. They stay open all night. Everyone gathers in the area before the concert and activities begin in the polivalente and eat, drink and be merry. The night of the 3rd at exactly midnight (so technically the 4th) they displayed a fireworks show. Let me just explain to you that there are a few things in this world that make me completely happy. A fireworks show is one of them. The fact that I was standing in the middle of a BBQ pit watching fireworks on the 4th of July made me completely content for the 15 minutes of the show, and I almost pictured myself somewhere in America at the time. It made me so happy, my little piece of home. I like these little reminders. Well Thursday and Friday were spent recuperating. The Thursday the 5th was Cape Verde's independence day, but this island is so pooped from their municipal holiday that absolutely nothing happens on that day. I'm pretty sure everyone simply sleeps through it. I know I did.

Since Friday was our year anniversary in Cape Verde, Leland and I decided to go out to dinner to eat lobster. It was delicious. Too bad my stomach didn't think so. I spent the whole following weekend in bed very very sick. Poo. Well I'm better now, although I have a slight aversion to the thought of lobster at the moment.

Well, in my life in general, I am still giving my little summer school make up sessions, they end next Monday. this Saturday we are blessed with having three newbies coming to visit us. The new group of trainees arrived a week or so ago, and they are sending them to various islands to get a feel for what it's like out here. It's a nice idea, something I wish they had done for our group. Anyway, we are being sent three newbies to entertain and (according to my mother) "taint their minds." They are to follow Leland and I around for four or five days to get a feel for what it's like to be a volunteer. Although I do really think this is a good idea, and in theory it should work, but I'm not doing anything at the moment. I am not really teaching, just having a few study sessions and they end Monday. School's out. The education volunteers aren't really going to get a feel for what it's really like. I spend a lot of my time on the beach these days :), or at least more than I used to. Oh well we will try and show them what it's like to live like a volunteer, and who knows, I may (of course completely against my better judgment) go to the discotheque again.

For those of you keeping track, Friday marks my 1 year anniversary of being in this country. Now, I know I've had my ups and downs, and periods of misery where all I wanted to do was go home. But raise your hand if you didn't think I was going to make it this far. Uh HUH! Well, I did and proved everyone I know wrong. But seriously, I would not be here if it wasn't for the support of all my family and friends, so I just want to say thank you so much for everything you've done for me and support you have given. One year down, one more to go :)

Well, the fourth of July is not only going to stick in my mind as an American holiday. All islands have their individual patron saint holidays. Boa Vista's happens to fall next Wednesday, July 4th. So there's reason to send sparklers in the air after all :) The entire island is scrambling to make preparations, they have built a new polivalente, like a sort of small stadium type place. Our apartment building has undergone rigorous construction for last two weeks, like it's going to make a difference really. But Boa Vista is determined to look it's best, especially my town of 2,000 people. They are making all the preparations they can to look and feel their best for all the people who will be coming in from all over the country to participate in simply a big party on the street, with maybe someone getting on the stage in the polivalente and singing at around 3am. I'm really not kidding. I was not cut out for this kind of socialization. This staying up all night and partying for two days straight business is killer for those of us who enjoy our sleeps! It's also a nice coincidence that Cape Verdian independence day is July 5th, the following day. So where else to spend it than the island that already began partying two days before?! So as we have heard from many of our friends, the island will be flooded with out of towners and no doubt the large handful of large-video-camera-toting-tourists. I am told by a friend of mine who used to work for the government, but now I'm actually not sure what he does, that an American singer/performer person will be coming to participate in the festivities. I believe he will be performing. I was pretty baffled when my friend Paolo told me his name and then asked me if I knew him. I'm sure a look of baffled amusement came over my face. I replied that sorry I didn't know him, although I held in the statements that America is not like Cape Verde, where everyone knows everyone else, if for nothing else but for the fact that they're probably related in some way. Anyway, he said he would introduce him to Leland and me and we would all go out for dinner.

Anyway, excitement is in the air for the up and coming party fest of non-stop drinking, eating, hitting buried chickens (probably while drinking and eating all that the same time), running through lighted bonfires (again, not really joking about this one), all while occasionally turning an ear towards the stage to listen to the current performer and possibly trying an attempt to dance with the nearest unlucky girl who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Well, I'm excited. No, really. This culture has managed to shine and excel at the most bizarre and random times, I look forward to seeing how they stand their steady ground in this event.

In other news, school is officially over, although I have to give a small recourse to a few students who managed to fail the cycle, meaning that their grades from 7th and 8th grade were bad enough combined that they may have to take a retest in order not fail my subject. I believe I have 5 8th graders who may be taking the course. When this recourse starts, or who exactly is coming, or really what exactly i'm supposed to do are still bits of useful information that have yet to be passed on to me. I'm not that worried anymore, as I am usually the last person to know anything. But it could have been worse. There could have been MORE than 5 people who failed. So my life has become a little more dull these days, as is evident by the complete lack of blogging, and for this I am sorry. I will give you all an update on the goings on of the festival as it progresses. But on the major plus side, ENGLAND IN 29 DAYS!!! Hope everyone is well :)

So, I almost never go to the discotheque. In fact, the last time I went was Christmas. So owing to a huge lapse in my judgment this past weekend, I decided to brave it yet again. The reasons for my going were basically one-fold: I was curious. You know, the same way a bug is drawn into the light and then gets zapped. It was something social to do on a Saturday night. Now my reasons for not going in the past have been about a hundred-fold and of course they were all reinforced the night I was there.

We the night began at a local bar where I was asked to be someone's girlfriend. Now this offer is not new, but the justification was quite original. He is a guy who works in our apartment building's office. He's actually the guy we ordered all our bookshelves stuff from, so he's an acquaintance of sorts. He basically told me that his situation in life demanded that he had a respectable looking girlfriend. It's not right that he has a comfy job in a respectable company and not have a nice little bit of arm candy to show off to all his friends (ok, when I refer to myself as these ridiculous things, please don't think that I was the one who actually said this about myself, these are all the silly things the beings we call male Cape Verdians come up with; I am not that conceited). Ok, well one interesting relationship proposal for the night, and we hadn't even made it to the disco yet.

We at the disco, I avoid the central areas as it is likely I would have ended up dancing with a sweaty smelly male who would likely thrust his hips just a little too close to mine and then I would regret ever being born and subjected to the kind of torture that is a 7 minute Zuk song. Who in their right mind decided that slow songs should last this long??! Not only that, but the DJ has decided to play a 1 1/2 hour run of these auditory nightmares and you can't really tell where one song stops and the other one begins, so what started as a 7 minute slightly bearable dance, turns into a mishmash of hell on a dance floor that has no apparent end. So anyway, I move myself to the outside and find a nice comfortable row of chairs that resemble a row of theater seats that were unceremoniously ripped from the theater and place on the wall of a Cape Verdian disco. So there I sit, waiting for 3am and therefor the bus ride home. Enter the man who wins the award for drunkest Cape Verdian at 2am. Conversation ensues. And when I say conversation, I mean he talks (and spits) about how beautiful I am and I try and politely inch farther and farther away from him. And before I know it, he has proposed marriage. Nope, I'm not joking.

Oh, I'm not done. 3am finally comes around. I am about to get up and go outside to catch the bus, when the man who wins the award for second drunkest man in Cape Verde enters, and sits down next to me. Several ridiculous compliments and a lapful of ponche later, I tell him I am leaving and I have to go. He seems to be a little troubled by this, but I am relieved to see he doesn't follow me. Oh nope, I was wrong. I am sitting on the semi-full bus and we are waiting for more passengers so he can cart a full load back to Vila. I see my latest admirer outside the window and I immediately try and hide myself. Didn't work. Onto the bus he comes and stands over me speaking nice and loudly so that all the people on the bus have a nice show to end their evening. He tells me that even though we've never had a conversation, he knows that I'm the one and he likes me so so much. I'm the most beautiful girl in Cape Verde, blah blah blah. It's just nice that it was dark or i'm sure I would have been 8 shades of purple by this time. People on the bus are of course staring and when I don't let him sit next to me he leaves once again. At this point I am tired, near tears, and I just want to go home. Oh, nope, he's back however. By this time there are of course more people on the bus, but there is also a non-groping/spitting man sitting next to me, thankfully. Apparently that is no object to my admirer who practically steps over him to hand me a little piece of paper with his name, phone number and address on it. I called it already, we're going out this Saturday :)

No, I haven't lost my mind quite that much yet! Anyway, that was my eventful Saturday night and if I ever consider going there again (unless it's for an extremely special occasion) will you please go to any lengths to stop me? Well, in other news, the end of the school year is in a week (yay!)and all my students have finished their final exams. Now, I just have to correct them all. Oh, and I go to England in 44 days. So excited.

We have had running water for the past 36 hours. I think that sets some kind of a record. I was thrilled to find that even after I had filled our rather large barrels that we have come to store water in for the week, that we still had running water. Lately, it's been coming on for about an hour a week, just enough time for us to fill up, and then it goes off. Not that I'm complaining too much, the water is sufficient and I've learned how to take a shower (conditioning and all!) with under 5 litres of water. It's amazing really.

Well, if I'm blogging about my showering habits, you all must know that life is clearly not that interesting. I didn't make it to the festival this past weekend, although I heard there were NO piãtas-chicken-in-the-ground style, so for those of you animal lovers, and really just normal human beings, you can rest easy knowing that I did not swing at a half buried live chicken. Like I would have anyway.

Leland is gone this week, he's in Praia for training so he can help out until PST for the newbies at the end of June. So I'm by myself in the house again, which has its pluses and minuses of course. I have heard rumors that our island may get another PC volunteer, although it would be in community development and not education, because the school doesn't really need another English teacher. So that could be exciting. This is our last week to review for the students' final exams, so things are pretty busy at school. It's definitely winding down, which makes me happy cause I'm tired of school, but at the same time, I won't really have anything to do when it's all over for the summer. Because of my traveling I won't really have the time to start any major projects, but what am I going to do for a few weeks at a time in between the school years? I dunno, anyway I'll figure it out.

Well, I'm sorry that was a disappointing update, but again, nothing really that interesting is going on here. I go to England in 59 days and I'm almost peeing in my pants with excitement. That's about the gist of it. I hope all is well with all of you.

Yesterday I was in a really good mood. I woke up happy and smiling, which is unusual for a Tuesday and I used to think they were my hard days. But since the Children's class, I have come to look forward to Tuesdays as they are the only day of the week where I don't have my children's class. Those classes are so exhausting and this time of year is so stressful anyway, that I look forward to the day where I don't have play Operator or slap hands in a Down By the Banks game with my six year olds. Also, I finally turned in my final exams, and other tests that I've had to make up, so my workload is considerably lighter for the time being. Anyway, I went to my first class at 8:30am yesterday morning, and they are my good eighth grade class and they did fairly well on the test, so I decided that before we got into some heavy review sessions I would let them play a game in class. It was a really fun game with music, and everyone was laughing and having a grand old time. So my good day continued. Well. At 11:40am I have, what I'm sure you're familiar with, my class from Hell, the other 8th grade class who last Thursday received a falta collectiva from me. Most of their class failed the last test, and only one person in the whole class passed the make up quiz that I gave on Saturday so I didn't feel that playing a game was the best strategy to help them learn. Plus, they are extremely hard to control and I know if I let them play a game, I would never regain control of the class. So, I commenced the class with attempting to explain what will be on the final exam (here on out called the PGI). Notice how I used the word "attempt." There are six sections of the test, I explained. Enter uproarious protestations here. "Six sections is a LOT teacher!" Let me just explain something. My PGI was checked by the Coordinator of the English department, the Sub-director of Pedagogy, and the Director of the School. It is in no way unreasonable in length or difficulty. Anyway, when the class finally quieted down (I had simply written 'PGI: six parts' on the board) there were still two boys who would not be quiet. So they got kicked out of class. Meanwhile, my loudest protester, a girl named Monica, had quited down, but she was hiding her head in her arms on the desk because for some reason she had found herself in a fit of giggles for no reason. She occasionally finds it amusing when I get angry. So, the two boys out of class, and Monica with a warning that she needs to face the front and listen respectfully, I attempt to continue. 'First part: reading comprehension' I write on the board. This time Monica has erupted into more laughter, and when I look at her, her back is to me, she is facing the back of the class, and when she turns around her face is red from laughter. So I then attempt to kick her out of class, as her laughing made others laugh as well. I tell her a few times to get out. This was her reply (first in Creole, then I'll translate):
"NO! A mi n ka fazi nada! Bu ka podi mandam pa rua, n ka fazi nada! A mi n ka ta bai, NO a mi n ka ta bai, a mi n ka fazi nada, a mi n ta fika li!! Bu ka podi mandam pa rua, n ka ta bai. No."
Translated: NO! I didn't do anything, you can send me out I didn't do anything. I'm not going to go, I'm not going to go, I didn't do anything. I'm staying right here, you can't make me go out, I'm not going."
Well, the whole class chimed in as well, putting their two sense where it didn't belong. I told Monica she gets a falta disciplina (she is now suspended for two days) and the rest of the class could just get out. I didn't give another falta collectiva, as it's not that fair to the ONE poor girl who wasn't talking, but I refused to teach the class anymore that day. Needless to say, I'm no longer in the good mood I was yesterday. But I've finished making up the tests, and my bad students were suspended, so things could be worse I guess. Oh and my Children's class ends today. So yay. But I just can't wait for the weekend.

Well, here I am in all my glory, a Peace Corps volunteer with so little to say. Although, I did, for the first time, give a falta collectiva in my Spawn of Satan of class. Today was climax of a very frustrating week. Only about half of the students actually showed up for class, and those that did for some reason would just not be quiet. Here, the discipline system works with 'faltas.' For example, if you don't show up for class, you get a falta. If you get kicked out of class, you get a falta. If you don't bring your notebook to school, or don't wear the proper uniform you get a falta, etc. These faltas build up and if you have so many in one class, they notify your parents. If you have so many in one trimester, you get kicked out of school. There are also falta disciplinas for if the students are fighting in class, or talk back to the teacher, or just do something extra bad. So, the students who didn't show up for class obviously got a falta, and those that did I basically kicked them all out, so they all got faltas as well. I gave two falta disciplinas to two students who wouldn't stop arguing and kicking each other. Well I got protests from the students of course, but I don't really care, cause I've had enough of their crap basically.

Everyone's so high stress at the moment, planning tests, then I have to plan makeup tests, then more tests, then final tests. I'm sick of planning/grading/re planning tests. But, on a more personal note, life is actually pretty ok. I think I'm the happiest I've been since I got here, and this is probably due to a variety of factors, but I can't imagine leaving at this point in time. There was a time in the beginning of my service where I contemplated leaving at the end of this school year; only I completely understand why they hold out service for two years. It's probably the perfect amount of time. My friendships are stronger, people have a sense of who I am, my students are comfortable around me except of course when they don't give a crap and half and won't stop talking. But I've noticed that just having been to the Norte and hanging out with the students who live there make them easier to deal with. Like they understand that I'm human, and not some foreigner they know nothing about.

But picture for a moment a college campus with about 4,000 students. All the students live on campus, and most of them are related. So everything you do, everywhere you go, everyone you talk to, it's all observed by someone who either knows you, or who's cousin is in your class. There is no privacy. Everyone is in everyone else's business because the campus is so small and secluded that people don't have anything else to do but gossip about everyone else. And because you're the "linda" Americana, your actions are monitored just that much more closely. That's like my life here. If I go out with someone other than Leland, people think I'm cheating on my husband. For the record, Leland is NOT my husband and even though we tell people this repeatedly, they don't seem to believe us. But I'm on a secluded island with 4,000 other people who are all someone else's cousin, so my actions are watched like a hawk by everyone around me. When I go to the Norte everyone knows and wonders why, and who invited me (the people in the Norte are fiercely defensive against keeping their little towns pure of outsiders/tourists. You basically have to be invited by someone who lives there in order to go. And in the car ride there, people will ask you why you are going to the Norte and who invited you).

Well this weekend, a friend of ours from Sal will come down and visit, which is nice. We like having visitors. Leland and I are throwing a little "American" party and invited some of our friends here. We'll make hot wings and pizza and just let loose. That's only if the back-again "bruma secca" allows our friend to fly here. Yes, the dust storms that interrupted our first Volunteer conference back in January are back and making everything gross and dusty again. Anyway, that's the small update on my life. I hope everyone has a good weekend :)

Last Tuesday was International Laborer's day. I decided to go to the Norte, specifically the town of João Galego. I've talked about that town before, Leland and I have been once. But several of the teachers that work at the high school live there, so a couple of them invited me to spend the Tuesday holiday with them. The town is almost on the other side of the island and there are beaches on that side. When Cape Verdians have the day off, they tend to have grelhas on the beach. A good friend of mine and some friends invited me along to theirs. Let me just explain something: when I think of grilling on the beach, I think of taking as few items as possible, the less to carry, the less to hassle with. Cape Verdians are the complete opposite for some reason. We left for the beach at around 9am and they brought everything, and I mean everything. Pots, and pans for cooking, dishsoap and sponges for cleaning, a plastic table to set up their "kitchen" and all the ingredients to all the food unprepared. It was remarkable, I couldn't believe how difficult it all seemed to me. I'm sure they have their perfectly logical reasons for doing this, I just didn't feel comfortable asking. For example: little tuna croquettes are made with canned tuna, mayonnaise, and spices. It is something that could have been mixed earlier at home and then brought all ready to cook. But instead, cans of tuna, jars of mayonnaise, and the spices were all brought separately and prepared there.

Anyway, it wasn't my picnic, so I just followed along and helped where I could. The first thing they did when they got there was set up their "kitchen" and prepared breakfast. We had two fires and a portable gas tank to cook meals for 10 or so people. It was some intense cooking. But the Norte "é sab" as they say here, meaning it's good. And it is good. The towns are small and so friendly. It's calm and quiet and everyone knows everyone. You go out for a walk and you end up staying outside for hours cause you find someone to talk to and you just sit there and talk. You remain on the stoop of a house, or in the main square on a bench or in a bar, it's just so cool.

This past weekend I decided to go up there again. Sunday was May Day, so Saturday night they held a party at the discoteca in João Galego. During the day, everyone just relaxes outside and talks and laughs. We would get a car and go to the other two towns that are in the same zone. Tarrafas has "world famous" ponche de mel a type of thick drink that's made from local grogue and honey. So Saturday, me and a few friends bar hopped around the towns, it was a good time. Saturday night was the big festa where there was of course more food than anyone could eat and fun music. Sunday was spent sleeping in. In the afternoon me and three other girl teachers around my age decided to go a little crazy and let go of some steam. We, four intelligent, composed professors were headbanging to Metallica and jammin to Snoop Dogg for two hours. It was great. I don't really even like Snoop Dogg. But these weeks are becoming stressful for us, we have so many tests to make up and grade. I gave my eighth graders their test last week and 40 out of my 60 students failed. So now, I have to make a make-up test of sorts so that all my students don't fail miserably at school. I'm exhausted and ready for the school year to be over. I have about a week left of my children's class which is just wonderful because as much as I love the little ones, it's a strain on my time and energy. The class ends next Wednesday and believe me I'm counting down the days.

In other news, my student Patricia was chosen to do the program in Praia. She's the only one on Boa Vista, and I'm so happy for her. I think she's a little nervous, and the people in charge of the program haven't been too forthcoming with the information about when it's going to be held and where specifically, so we're both a little frustrated at that. But it's the Cape Verdian way to leave everything to the last minute, so I'm sure it'll all work out in the end.

Well, I'm tired so I hope I didn't ramble too much. I hope everyone is well.

25th April 2007

Yes, the blogs are really piling up. Well, I am able to get on the internet now, but it is a very slow process. My computer-savy roommate explained that the main cable isn’t fixed, so the country is using a satellite replacement as a temporary solution. Apparently the satellite doesn’t carry nearly as much bandwith and with a country of 500,000 people using the same line, it gets a little slow. But I think it was a very bad idea to have a temporary solution. The mind set then becomes, ‘well, at least they have something, we don’t have to hurry to fix the problem.’ Brilliant. So for now, I will continue to write journal style and publish all million blogs when the internet allows.

Well, this past Monday was national Dia do Professores, or teacher’s day. So a great day was planned for all the teachers on the island. This of course includes the high school as well as all the primary schools. I would say there were about 100 or so of us teachers who participated in the day. They arranged for us to go to Venta Club, the humungous resort hotel that’s outside of the city, about a 20 minute drive. The Venta Club is an all-inclusive resort for tourists, so we never really see the tourists who stay there and they never really see us. Everything is included, and they have their own private secluded beach, swimming pools, a couple of restaurants, and their own discothèque. So everyone piled in the bus, and for about $20, we were given our run of the hotel as well for the entire day.

Needless to say, the problems started before we even walked in the front door. The teachers were told to pay 1,500 escudos (about $20) to be able to go. Everyone paid ahead of time. When we arrived at the Club, we were told that the actual feel was 2,500 escudos, about $15 more. The outrages started. No one brought money with them as this was an all-inclusive day, and who needs money? When you get a lot of Cape Verdians together, they tend to get a little overbearing. And since most of the teachers were women, they were not hesitant about letting their opinions be heard. Well since we were all there and making a slight fuss (although I have to interject this and nothing against primary school teachers, but it was they who were making all the noise. Those of us high school teachers were pretty blaze about the whole thing and willing to pay the extra 1,000 escudos later, as we didn’t have it with us) the Venta Club decided that they would let us in for an extra 500 escudos to be paid at a later date. Right. Like that’s going to happen.

Anyway, the place was amazing. And maybe my judgments a little screwed because I haven’t been around that sort of thing lately, but the place was nice. It was so big, and it had good food, and beautiful views and it’s own private secluded beach. I could definitely see why a British or Italian tourist would come to Boa Vista for vacation. Because you could be anywhere. On any beach in the whole world. There was no one else around for miles. The beaches in my town of Vila are 20K away, there is no one to bother you. So we Cape Verdians (I’ll just include myself in the group as I felt like I was anyway) spent the day lounging by the pool, eating, and for me, feeling really normal. I watched and got excited about a game of soccer, I played tennis on a grass court (aren’t you jealous daddy?), and swam in a (very cold, but who cares) swimming pool. It was really cool.

Trouble was bound to surface again in this perfect day. The main restaurant in the hotel is a buffet serve yourself type of place. They have a variety of different types of food, dessert and since it is all inclusive, a variety of beverages as well. So lunch came around and the hotel reserved an area of the sitting room for us and we were allowed to go and serve ourselves along with the other tourists. Now, even though the hotel is quite large and there were quite a few people staying there, the addition of 100-150 extra people is felt, especially in a dining hall. Our addition made significant lines and the food ran out quicker. I am sure that there was no lack of complaints from the guests. It’s not that we were that pushy (although the Cape Verdian culture doesn’t really include standing in line, it’s more of a just shove your plate in the front and grab what you can) I can see how the guests were frustrated with the sudden change of pace. Well, the evening dinner came around and we were told we could no longer serve ourselves; that there was now a set meal and we would be served. But we were asked to stay in place meaning out of the food serving area. Begin uproarious protestations now. Some people boycotted eating, some tried to leave and go home, all the while screaming about racism, that the blacks weren’t able to mingle with the snotty whites in their own country. Let me tell you something that my good friend Elizabeth (who is Cape Verdian) and I discussed: 100-150 people of any size, shape, or race, are a nuisance. They do get in the way, of course they do. I don’t think racism was behind the change of service, but it was a little abrupt and not explained properly, so of course there was going to be an issue. But the hotel had to bring in extra people to serve us and prepare dishes especially for us (although to add insult to injury they served us catchupa in between our appetizer and entrée leading people to believe that we were having that for dinner. Catchupa is the national Cape Verdian dish consisting of corn, some beans and occasionally ham pieces. Let’s just say it’s like putting a plate full of grilled cheese sandwiches in front of Americans who just paid about $20 for this dinner and telling them that’s what there was to eat). Anyway, this change was no easy task for them. Obviously, it was for the comfort of the guests and to make things a little easier on everyone. Anyway, but they turned our visit into Cape Verdian culture day, so afterwards there was a band who played Cape Verdian music (actually the only band on Boa Vista) and we all danced. And when I say we, I mean all the Cape Verdians and the tourists watched, which was awkward. I would have asked one of the torusits to stand up with me, to get them included in the dancing, but I was afraid I’d get a look like in the movie Dreamgirls when Eddie Murphy sings in that fancy Miami beach hotel to all the white people and the one woman jumps when he points at her (yes they have some new movies in the video store it’s very exciting). Anyway, it was just an interesting experience to be in such a segregated group, where such obvious racial tension was present all the time. Anyway so that was my day, it was a very good time, and I will post pictures when I can. I hope everyone is well.

19th April 2007

I was on the Cape Verdian radio today. I thought that was pretty cool. At least I think was on the radio. I didn’t get a chance to hear myself. But I’m pretty sure I was. I didn’t even know Boa Vista had its own radio station. I have no idea where the station would be, but whatever. The one and only journalist on the island came to my little-people English class today and wanted to interview me and a couple of the kids in the class. He pretty much asked me the same questions I asked myself at the beginning of the children’s classes. ‘Why are you teaching English to little kids 6 years old?’ So I explained in the best Creole I could that it’s valuable to give kids a foundation for this language, since this island in particular is becoming so touristy. A couple of my little ones counted to 10 in English, they were so cute. So, that was exciting. In other news, we’ve decided to hire another maid. Our one we had months ago stopped showing up after like three visits. Then I was doing the laundry for a few months but I don’t want to do it anymore, so we’ve hired someone else. Hopefully she’ll stick around longer than two weeks. Although, it’s hard to do laundry without water, which we’ve been out of for two days now. Again. The Peace Corps was nice enough to send us two large barrels to store our water. It’s enough to bathe, wash the dishes, and flush the toilet for a few days, but not enough to do laundry or anything major like that. We are getting used to it, and it’s a little easier to live with the barrels, but still irritating. Oh well. And it looks like the internet isn’t coming back any time too soon, so sorry that the blogs are piling up.

18th April 2007

So of course the one week where I can’t access the internet everyday, I have like a million things to say. Today was the interview for the program in America. Like I thought, it was a little too good to be true, but not a total disappointment. This interview process was supposed to happen around a month ago, but for transportational reasons (have I mentioned I hate TACV, Cape Verde Airlines?) they couldn’t get to Boa Vista until now. The people from Wesleyan University had already gone back to America, so the woman who came was a representative from a section of the Cape Verdian government in charge of all youth activities. She works for the group that sort of in charge of all the Youth Centers in Cape Verde. Because of timing issues, she told me that they have already chosen the five Cape Verdian students who are going to America. Well, needless to say, I was pretty disappointed for my students. But she also told me that the students chosen had to go through rigorous language scrutiny. They have to be pretty much fluent in English and under the age of 19 to boot. A difficult process. But there is another program in Cape Verde over the summer that is sort of the same thing, only in this country. A few students from America are even coming here for it. It will be a intercultural exchange sort of thing for American and Cape Verdian students. Around 20 Cape Verdian students are chosen from around the islands in various forms of artistic expression: dance, theater, and music (both singing and playing of an instrument).

Two of my students decided to apply. They are 11th graders and only level III English. In this particular program, the English is not as rigorous, but as the Americans and Cape Verdians will be in classes together, English will have to be somewhat understood, and I don’t know many American high schoolers who can speak Portuguese, let alone Creole. Patricia, probably my best student, decided to apply for the dance section and Zelinda applied for the theater. The woman who came to do the interviews was very nice and I liked her a lot. She let me sit in on the interviews. I may be slightly partial, but I think my girls did the best out of everyone who applied. They had to exhibit some proof that they were able to do what they say they could. Patricia spoke English very well (ok I coached them a little before hand, but how could I not!!) and she danced various types of dance and showed she was ready to learn new types. Zelinda pulled off a monologue and showed quite some aptitude as an actress. Her English is not quite as good as Patricia’s, but she did just fine I think. Well, the interviewer afterwards told me that she would for sure take Patricia. Zelinda was a definite possibility and there is probably an 80% that she would go. But none of the other applicants were really considered. MY STUDENTS! My own, level 3 (!!!!) students were chosen for this program. Now, I believe in the school as a whole, and yes I would have been happy to seen any other student go, but the fact that it was my student just makes me so proud . So, I think they find out for sure in the next week or so, but I was so proud of them in the interview, they held their own, and didn’t seem as nervous as the other students, they were so great! Ok, well that’s all I have to say and I’ll keep you all posted on the for sure outcome of this whole business.

17th April 2007

I’ve assigned a section of “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” to my 11th grade class. They are only level III English, but they are fairly smart kids, and tend to pick stuff up fairly quickly. Leland used this particular story in one of his adult English classes and it seemed to go over fairly well. I though it particularly bold of me to try it with a level III high school class, but so far, it seems they are liking it. It’s a little deviation from the ordinary at least. The section of the story is Chapter 2 of the novel: The Glorious Whitewasher. In this section, Jim, the slave, has a few lines of dialogue that are quite difficult to discern, but remarkably, the class was able to figure out what English words he would be speaking. I was actually quite proud of them. I hesitated a little, explaining the language of the black slave, to a room full of students who were only sitting there because the slave trade began in the first place. Their ancestors just happened to be “lucky” enough to not have made it to the Americas. I put “lucky” in parentheses only because it’s not as though they were treated any better. Cape Verde, in the slave era, was a rest stop for the Portuguese slave traders. They stopped here to regroup after kidnapping the West Africans. Some of the kidnapped were left here to serve the Portuguese working here permanently. They may not have made it to the American horrors, but they were slaves here none-the-less, although I get the feeling it wasn’t quite so severe.

In a semi-related topic, a group of people associated with Wesleyan University (Leland’s alma mater, coincidentally) is coming tomorrow to interview any 10th, 11th or 12th grader who exhibits a fairly strong grasp of the English language and a strong background in some sort of artistic expression. This includes, theater (both acting and technical), singing, dancing, visual art, writing, or photography. The group is selecting various Cape Verdians from around the country to go to Connecticut to participate in a 5 week workshop at Wesleyan University to expand their English and artistic base. Tomorrow the representatives will come, and interview the students who show interest. I have encouraged my 11th graders to at least gain the experience of interviewing, as this is a valuable skill regardless. I have one or two who will try and who I think have a fairly decent shot of getting this position. I somehow find the whole thing just a little bit too good to be true. Opportunities like this are so rare, that when they do occur, it’s almost as though they are so delicate you don’t want to believe in them too much. For at least one of my students to make it to America to have the opportunity to express their culture through artistic means is just such a great thing for them, and I truly hope that I know a student or two who makes it. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime for these kids. They dream about going to America, and for a deserving student to have the chance to experience a college-style life, even if for only 5 weeks, just makes me happy and hopeful that they’ll make it. Well by the time this is posted, we shall know how it went, and if my bad feelings of it being too good to be true have any basis or not. I’m hoping not. Wish my students luck!! Some of them really deserve this.

16th April 2007

So I found out today that our internet will be disconnected until around the end of this week. Not just our island’s, but the whole country’s internet. This is due to someone dropping their obviously heavy boat anchor right on the country’s DSL line in Praia, snapping the fiber optic wire in half. This raises several questions: 1. Why is the very important wire not buried deep under the ocean floor; 2. Why was a boat able to drop its anchor in it in the first place; 3. Why is the wire running through a place where boats park themselves? These are all valid questions that of course have led to the argument over who should pay for the wire to be fixed. The boatman or CV Telecom? I, personally, feel that it is the responsibility of CV Telecom to pay for the wire repair as it was in a dumb location to begin with, plus I hate CV Telecom for my own reasons; perhaps, then, I am biased. But anyway, this means that I am currently blogging at home and will publish my blogs when I am able to use the internet again, so these blogs are in journal format. Sorry about that.

Well, things are going fairly well these days. School and work is back in full swing, although there is that distinct smell in the air: the smell of things coming to end. Spring is ending; summer is coming upon all of us quickly. It’s the smell of the end of school and the crazy and fun times ahead. The students have an energy that’s like the last inhalation before you blow out and blow off all that steam. It’s a good feeling. My students are anxious to be finished, and I don’t really blame them. They are behaving slightly better in class, although “better” isn’t the best word to describe it, I just can’t think of the appropriate word. It’s almost as if they feel that if they just hold their breath, keep their heads down, and do the work, they’ll get out of here just that much faster. Well, they won’t but it works all right for disciplinary purposes.

Although, the end of the school year is approaching quickly. There are 6 different grades that make up the secondary school. These 6 grades are divided into three cycles. The first cycle is 7th and 8th grade, second cycle is 9th and 10th, and third cycle is 11th and 12th grade. At the end of each cycle, the students have a large cumulative test, called a PGI. Weeks are spent reviewing for this test, as it is crucial for their final grades. In two and a half weeks, I give my first test of the trimester. Then for the four weeks following that, I will review for the PGIs in my 8th and 10th grades. They take their tests beginning the 6th of June. This trimester will be over before all we know it. I’m in the fifth week of my little people English class. I still love it, and the break I had a couple of weeks ago was very much needed, as it is exhausting to keep up with 6 year olds as well as plan new lessons and discipline the 8th graders all in the same day. But I like it, it makes the days pass quicker.

I know I talk constantly of counting down the days, passing the time, and basically sit in anticipation for the end of all this business to be over. I don’t mean to sound as though I am going through hellish torture here. It’s funny, because in my past life (ante-Peace Corps) I remember counting the hours until work/class was over. But I don’t think that I’ve ever counted down the days for a selected period of time. And like I said, I don’t hate it here by any means, and I’m not miserable (most of the time ); but I guess I look at my service here as one long work day. My trip to England is like lunchtime. Each school break in the middle of school is like the ten o’clock coffee breaks that I always forgot to make coffee for :) (I was never good at making coffee). My life, like my days used to be, is divided into breaks and quantified time spaces. I jump from break to break, like jumping form hour to hour in a workday. It’s no way to live life I know, but my life is currently unique and calls for unique ways to cope. Anyway, things are good, classes are going pretty well so far, I have finally booked our tickets to London after much trouble and deliberation with airlines, and Leland and I have some pretty solid friends in the community that make the experience just that much better. It took a while, but I can now say that we have fit ourselves pretty neatly in daily life here. Everyone knew us before, but now nearly everyone who knows us says hello to us on the street. We are no longer the strange Americans, but we are “so-and-so’s teacher” or ‘profesora de Corpo da Paz.” It’s nice to fit in finally.

By the way, I just received a card in the mail today from my friend who is in the Peace Corps in Macedonia. It was a Christmas card, and it was sent out December 12th, 2006. I guess there is absolutely no predicting this ridiculous mail business.

15th April 2007

I just wanted to make a note first: I think my last blog might have gone slightly misunderstood. It was not I who was mugged. Two other volunteers were here visiting us for spring break, and they wandered to a part of the beach that is a little more deserted. Two men approached them and demanded their money and bags. They dropped everything and ran. They weren’t hurt, and didn’t lose much, but it was still an unfortunate experience and I’m sorry that it happened on my island, which is usually so safe. They have, however, caught one of the guys after two elderly British tourists were attacked in the same place. It seems that only one of the muggers was there, and pulled out a knife to threaten the tourists. They were willing to oblige, but the mugger made an unfortunate call by holding the knife up to the woman’s neck. The husband lost it and attacked the mugger and knocked him down. He grabbed the knife (that was thankfully dull) and the woman got a slight cut on her face, and the man ended up with cuts on his hand, but between the two of them they knocked the guy down and called the police who caught him. The police here sent our visiting volunteers a photo to identify the guy and it turns out he was the same one. So, well done British tourists! Although, I can’t say that was the smartest move.

Last night Leland and I went to a coworker’s son’s first birthday party. There are four people who work at the Youth Center, not including Leland and I. The woman who now runs it is named Vilma and it was her son’s first birthday. Her second in command, so-to-speak is a Shon who is dating a very nice teacher at my school. We hang out with that couple a lot (you may have seen the photos of us rolling around the desert with them). Then there are two young people who work the internet café mostly: Diva and Johnny. Diva is 19 and, of course, very pregnant. In fact, she’s due next month. I like Diva a lot. She’s very nice, and is fun to talk with about life in general. But I do feel sorry for her, for obvious reasons. She is not married to the father of her (oopsie) baby and she’s only 19. Vilma’s life, on the other hand is the complete opposite. She is in her late 20s, in a pretty solid marriage to a very nice man, and they live in a nice apartment with the cutest little guy for a son. I sat next to Diva at the party as Vilma was showing everyone her son’s baby book. Similar to the one I had when I was a baby, it is full of silly baby statistics, like when he said his first word, what it was, first day and time he walked, rolled over, crawled, etc. It had photographs of the mother, father, and extended family. Diva and I looked through the book together and I thought about the contrast between Diva’s situation and Vilma’s. Vilma went to college, got her degree, had a stable job and husband and then had a child. Diva barely finished high school before she became pregnant with a man who probably will not marry her, and still lives with her parents and works probably very close to minimum wage in a job that she won’t be able to move up in.

Let me back up and clarify for a moment. There is nothing wrong with Diva’s situation, and it happens to women all over the world, in 1st, 2nd, and 3rd, worlds, among the rich and poor. Child out of wedlock is nothing new to anyone, nor do I believe that it is by any means a catastrophe in any situation. And I know I have harped on the pregnancy issue in this country already, but just sitting there, with this girl who is my brother’s age looking at the photos and symbolic lifestyle that she probably would never have made me sad. But there’s nothing I can really do about it, maybe that’s the most frustrating part. I just hope that the baby gets a better chance than she had.

Saturday night, Leland and I decided to attend a Gala. Yeah I said Gala. Who knew, right? We paid about $20 to sit in a large discoteque that was converted into a rather nice dining hall, complete with table service dinner and (nearly) full bar. There was live music, presentations of art and other artisan work, and all the who’s who of Boa Vista was there. It was another one of those things where Leland and I had to keep kicking ourselves to remember where the hell we were. Namely, in the Peace Corps on an African archipelago, and not in New York City or Chicago at an art exhibition for the latest chic artist. We were dressed to the nines, surrounded by most people who were speaking English (although there were Cape Verdians there as well, among them mine and Leland’s counterparts as well as some other teachers from the high school). The Gala was put on by an Italian who owns the main grocery store in town and is married to a Cape Verdian and now lives here. I don’t think his initial design was to make money, I think it was an attempt to bring an elevated ‘something’ of the western world to a country that is conflicted as to whether it wants to join that world or not. At any rate, the event seemed to be somewhat of a success although not all the tables were sold. The food was ok, served in ‘European portions’ (Cape Verdians tend to serve their food heartily and on a generous pile of rice, beans, and french fries) but was brought out in 5 courses. A coursed meal. Yeah we were surprised too. I think I’ve been to a total of about 5 dinners that contained more than three courses in my whole life, the majority of these being weddings (although the one more memorable one was the one in Paris, France where my family and I went one night, and in between they brought us these Champaign classes full of palette cleansers in three different colors, one being green, it was so odd. Remember family?) Anyway, the idea that I was sitting at a Gala being served my second entrée while sipping on a glass of wine was entirely ridiculous to me, but made me feel just a little more human, even if most human beings don’t engage in that type of event on any type of regular basis. That’s not the point, really.
I live a completely different life from what I know like to call my “former life.” Any semblance of that life makes me feel a little more alive, even if it was not a regular occurrence in this “former life.” But I have no access to regular occurrences from my “former life” so these snippets of irregularities have to do to keep the memory and emotional feeling of who I was alive. I can’t go to Wal-mart, Target, a normal video store, the movies, the mall, or shopping really of any kind. So the abnormal ‘Western-style’ occurrences that happen, even the ridiculous ones such as Galas, are taken advantage of and loved for every minute they allow me to remember what it was like to live a life that I was used to.

The past two weeks have gone by in a kind of blur and I can only hope that the rest of my service continues in this swift fashion. I am coming to a dip in my mood, only to be expected after the emotional high I found myself on when surrounded by people I feel comfortable with and can get close enough to touch, or come in human contact with. It’s not that I don’t have Cape Verdian friends, but it seems, to me at least, that there will always be this barrier between us as Americans and them as people of a different cultural lifestyle.
The week began with those of us first years arriving in Tarrafal, a beach community on the northern tip of the main island of Santiago. We have lost 5 volunteers since our initial training but have recently gained one new volunteer from amongst those evacuated from Guinea recently. We are now, then, 29 first year volunteers. Monday and Tuesday were spent catching up with friends, laughing, and basically reliving a more compact version of our initial technical training. There was an abundance of snacks, including fruits and pistachio nuts (!) (of course food had to make a small appearance in my narrative; it wouldn’t be a Fazel experience if it didn’t impact me in some way. Although I must say that I was neither the only one thrilled nor the most enthusiastic about the appearance of the exotic sustenance). Tuesday evening the second year volunteers arrived in true second year fashion: absolutely nuts. I’m pretty sure this place makes you crazy. The sessions became slightly more interesting and the nights a lot more lively, as it is the one and only time that all 35 or so of us Cape Verde volunteers will be in the same place at the same time. For a lot of us, being isolated on an island with only one or two other people who are like you makes you hungry for the human interaction that only other Peace Corps Cape Verde volunteers can provide. We clung to each other sharing our stories, letting lose, and laughing and laughing until we eventually had to go back to our isolated lives. I, along with some others, tried to stretch out our time away as long as we could and I ended up staying the following weekend after the conference was over in the capital city of Praia. A lot of my friends had decided to hang around as well, so to me it was a no-brainer to tag along.
Last Sunday I got to visit my homestay family in Sao Domigos. I hadn’t seen them since I left for Boa Vista nearly 7 months ago. My homestay mother’s niece had died taking them to a nearby town, but they arrived back to Sao Dominogs in time for me to spend about 20 minutes with them. I felt bad, and told them that the next time I would spend more time with them. It’s interesting to see the way the homes that hosted volunteers have changed in the past few months. Our families receive a daily stipend to support us, which is usually more than enough to support us as well as the rest of their entire family. So needless to say, they usually have some money left over. Houses were remodeled, new TVs and DVDs were bought, and there is a brand new armoire in the room I used to occupy in my homestay household. But I was happy to see them, as they were happy to see me, and I am just sorry that I wasn’t able to visit them before now. I should be going back to that island some time in June or July so I will hopefully be able to see them a little more.
Well I came back to Boa Vista early last week and home to a houseful of guests. Leland had come back the Friday before when everyone was scheduled to go back to their sites and so was here to welcome other volunteers who wanted to extend their “vacation” as I did. We have heard from nearly every volunteer who has visited us here that our site is by far the best site on Cape Verde. I would not argue that point by any means, as our beaches are amazing and this island is relatively safe (although there was an unfortunate experience that happened with two volunteers that were visiting last week being mugged just up the beach from the windsurf shack that Leland and I generally hang around. They weren’t hurt, but it left most of us in complete shock, as this is something that we never hear happens). So Leland and I know we have it good as far as location goes, but the lack of other human contact is something I wish I didn’t have to deal with.
Which is why you will all be happy to know that I have made a rip down calendar that is one page for everyday I have left until my friend Stephanie and I fly to England to meet my family who I haven’t seen now for a little over 9 months (!), a lot for me. It was my way of quantifying an event that I can actually keep track of; plus it keeps me a little saner and gives me something to look forward to every morning (and I might as well confess at this moment that the map of the London Underground system has now become my computer’s background). I begin the third and final trimester of the school year today and I could use all the sanity I can get. I know it will go by quickly and hopefully without too much rediculouslessness, but this is Cape Verde and of course the PC so who the hell knows?
In other news, I did attempt to learn to windsurf, and found myself sore the next day. Of course, I stayed on the sand, just practicing holding the sail in the proper way and learning how to grip it and stuff, but I can now say that at least I have begun to learn! Also, the market just got mangoes back in, so I think their season is picking back up which makes me happy, although they are still slightly expensive, costing about $1.50 for each mango. When the season is in full swing I have a feeling they will become slightly cheaper which is just splendid. And mother, you will be happy to know that in my newfound appreciation of veggies, I have started eating zucchini on a fairly regular basis. I actually quite like the flavor, and stir-fry has become one of my favored dishes to make. Meat and chicken have been a little difficult to obtain these days, so I have officially been a vegetarian for the past three days ☺ Tasha, aren’t you proud?

The local grocery store in my town got in a whole shipment of fresh fruit this week. Including….are you ready for it….PEARS!! I just about had a heart attack. Having limited funds with me, I bought two and an orange and smiled nearly all the way home. When I went home, I tried to ration myself with my newfound fruity wealth: one pear today, the other for breakfast tomorrow. I succeeded, but only in that I allowed myself to eat the orange that evening as well. On the way to class the next morning I ate the other pear with relish.

I was on my own this weekend, as Leland was in Praia for some conference. I have never been in this town in my house alone since I arrived. I was lonely and a little bored the first night, but I found it miraculous that 24 hours later I had completely readjusted. I told myself that Saturday I would treat myself to lunch in the praça (main square) where I could read and relax outside. I took the money I was going to use for lunch and went back to grocery store and bought myself an entire kilo of pears instead. I was pleased at the price. It cost about $3.00 for a kilo of pears (about 9-10 pears). As I sat in my kitchen eating a pear for dessert that night, I thought about my zealous pear devouring. I ate the pears down to the nub. If I could have eaten the seeds and the stem, I would have. This made me reflect on all my eating lately. When I first arrived in this country, I remember being amazed at the way Cape Verdeans ate their food. They find every morsel and eat it. A small chicken leg will go in to their mouths and a few seconds later, out will come a spotlessly clean bone. It’s not that their that hungry, it’s that why waste it when it was so hard to get in the first place?

As I have said before, fruit is quite the luxury. In general, it is expensive and hard to get. For what it is and the kind of sustenance it provides, it generally isn’t worth purchasing for most Cape Verdeans or for us. For just under twice the price of my kilo of pears, I can purchase a couple of boneless chicken breasts that I can then shred to make BBQ chicken. This lasts Leland and I for about a week’s worth of lunches.

But it wasn’t just the pear I have been eating with such care. It has now become just about everything. Wasting food, or anything for that matter, is something we avoid very carefully. We only make what we can eat, or what we can store and eat later. Cape Verdeans have very little waste. I remember living in my homestay family’s house and they barely had a trashcan. It was a small bucket that served for small things like napkins. Cape Verde just is simply not a disposable society. Any food waste they had went either to the dog and cat or in another bucket later given to the pig. I had to keep a plastic carrier bag in my room to throw my trash away, because a trashcan just isn’t a staple part of a person’s individual needs. I, on the other hand being the wasteful American that I was, had q-tips, wrappers, and other random pieces of paper that I threw away on a daily basis. When I moved out of their house, I went to throw the trash away. My little homestay sister was there and offered to take it out for me. By this time I had a few bags worth of things I didn’t want anymore (such as magazines my family had sent and had since been shared and discarded by my homestay family) as well as actual trash such as used q-tips, my nail clippings, and other private trash. My little homestay sister took it with her and when I came out into the common area after packing I saw the magazines out once again and my trash scattered around the room. I was completely mortified. A person’s trash is just so personal. But I guess one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and these people were even playing with the case my Intuition razor replacement came in. Disposable items just aren’t as prevalent here, so even my trash was something interesting to them.

Food, however, still remains the area we are most careful with. We are not of the mind, mind you, that you have to finish everything on your plate just because it’s there. Occasionally, of course, one simply is just too full to finish. But we don’t make a lot to begin with. We go through a painstaking effort at the grocery store to plan out exactly what we’ll cook and just how many ingredients we need to make the desired dish. It’s not that we can’t afford to buy more, it’s just that there’s absolutely no need to. Which is almost exactly the attitude felt by the rest of the people of this country. There is no need to have more, when having less works just as well, if not better. It’s like that line from Sabrina (I know I’m a romantic comedy movie weirdo): “More isn’t always better Lionus, sometimes it’s just more.” Anyway, the pear extravaganza has made my weekend and in a week we go to Praia for our big conference, which marks the end of the second trimester. Two down, one to go! So at the moment, things are looking up ☺

So I just thought I would inform everyone about what my students had to say about this World Wise exchanging of letters thing:

Male student: "Teacher, I want a girl, a (said in English) love"
Female student: "Teacher, the boys in America are very good looking, I want a boy"
Female student: "Teacher, I'm going to ask them to send me a passport so I can go to America"
Male student: "I will write (said in English) 'I am hungry.' Cabo Verdianos are hungry"
Male student: "Can we exchange phone numbers too with our (said in English) love"
Male student, said in English to mimic what he would write: "I live in house that is barraca" (The slum-ish section of town, apparently this is a joke)
Male student, also in English: "I like cook catchupa"
Me to male student: "American children don't know what barraca or catchupa means. You have to explain it"
Male student: "I'll ask for money then they can know what a baracca is"
Me: "You have to write in English, and no asking for money!"
Whole class: Uproarious protestations

Yup. I can't wait.

Yes, it's been a while. I've been neglecting my blogging duties. Well, to be honest my life is currently not that interesting. I absolutely love my children's classes and although they leave me exhausted at the end of the day, I really enjoy teaching the kids. My high school students are obviously another matter. They of course leave me exhausted as well, but for very different reasons. It is a mental struggle to be in the high school environment. I find the little children are harder physically to keep up with, but my high schoolers keep me mentally and emotionally drained. So, needless to say, at the end of the day, I all but collapse.

Peace Corps has a program that's called the World Wise School program. It is where each volunteer who chooses to participate is matched up with a teacher from a school in the United States. The teacher uses the volunteer as a tool in her classroom. They exchange letters, photos, and any other relevant information. It is a way for American students to become familiar with other countries and cultures, and helps the volunteer gain perhaps a slightly unique view on their own situation. Well, after 6 months of being at site, I was finally paired up with a class from Las Vegas, Nevada. The teacher teaches 6th grade English and we have decided to set up a little pen pal sort of thing with my eighth graders. It is fairly bad timing, as we are well into the latter end of the school year, and most of you understand how efficient the mail system is here :). I received my first email from the teacher about a week ago, and we have been exchanging emails since about what it is exactly we should incorporate into our classes. Well, for me, th pairing came as quite a surprise, I was given no warning as to when I might receive a match, so I have nearly every class period planned out for the next two weeks (after which the trimester ends, and we go on a two week break before the final one begins). Again, bad timing. But the teacher's emails intrigued me. I didn't get the feeling she had researched Cape Verde all that well. Of course I will be the first to admit that Cape Verde is a slightly out of the way country and not many people have heard of it. But she expected individual photos of all my students and weekly correspondence. It was odd. I was slightly taken aback. Then she thought the students could exchange letters about entertainment in each country. As one of my friends put it: "what, like sitting on the stoop and drinking grogue?" Because that's about it as far as entertainment goes. I know my students will be thrilled to hear about the latest goings on with the likes of 50 Cent and Jean-Claude VanDamme; but somehow, I don't think going on a passeio (leisurely stroll) around your 2,000 person town will thrill the masses of 6th graders at a Las Vegas high school. I just hope they don't write to us about tassels and Chippendale's.

In other news, Leland is going out of town for the weekend to some conference thingie in Praia, so I have the house all to myself. Although that also means I will absolutely bored out of my mind since there is a complete lack of entertainment here in this country. And it's the end of the month so funds are a little tighter of course, which makes culinary endeavors slightly more difficult as well. Oh well, good thing I like to read.

Oh family. What a complicated structure sometimes. Cape Verdean families are something of a marvel. The sanctity of marriage is almost non-existent. This trimester, instead of a final exam for my eighth graders, I decided to have my students do a family project that would incorporate a family tree and a composition about one side of their family. It's very interesting to see their family trees. Some students have 45 cousins, while others are fairly compact only because the father has had to move to Portugal or the United States to find work. But I find the family unit here fascinating. I will keep you updated as to the progress of these projects when the time comes nearer for them to hand in.

Along those lines, I received the photos I ordered off of Snapfish from the family cruise. My students were pretty insistent on seeing photos of my family. So you will all be happy to know that I showed them all your smiling faces and they loved every minute of it. They said I had a very beautiful family, and especially like the photo of Heather, Kim, Azmina, and Natasha. I have very beautiful girls in my family, they said. Some of the girls also developed a small crush on Aaron and Shaheen, and they were delighted to hear that my family would be visiting this summer and could I please ask the rest of them to come too? I said of course, I will do my best. So everyone, just know that you were all invited by the students of my 8A class to come out this summer to visit me :) But they really did enjoy the photos and so did I.

So this is always the way things happen: the minute one thing in your life is going well, the other just completely blows up in your face. I began my children's class yesterday. I have one hour of class in the morning and another in the afternoon three times a week for the next 8 weeks. I very much forgot how much I LOVE little kids. I had only three little girls show up for each one of the classes, but we had such a blast. The girls in the morning were a little older and came with notebooks and pens in hand ready to absorb and write down anything I had to say. But they were so eager, and wanted to know everything. My afternoon girls were a lot younger, 6 years old as oppose to the girls in the morning who were around 9 and 10. My afternoon girls just wanted to play and sing Head Shoulders Knees and Toes the whole time. Which was fine with me, so we played and sang and basically had a grand old time. They're just so FUN!

Well on the other hand, today I gave out three faltas da disciplina, (basically a disciplinary write up) all to my one class, also known as the Spawn of Satan class, 8C. When I first let all the students in the classroom, two of the boys had begun to fight. They each had the other in a choke hold and were punching back and forth. So before all the students had even come into the room, I had kicked out two. Then as the students were coming in, a girl closed the door all the way, maliciously not allowing the other students to enter (this particular door locks from both the outside and inside if closed all the way. The only way to get out or in is to pass the key through the window to someone standing out there so they can unlock it from the outside). So there's a third student who I kicked out before class even started! I didn't give her a disciplina, however; she was just being annoying. Then, about halfway through class, while they were doing exercises, I was leaning over helping a student, when a particularly irritating student caressed my rear end to get my attention. I use the word caress, because I really can't think of another word for it. He snickered as I turned around with astonishment on my face. Well I let it slide because I thought maybe, just MAYBE, I had miss-interpreted it. Well five minutes later when I was standing in front of the class explaining the lesson he asked loudly and repeatedly if he could kiss me, In English, mind you. "Teacher can I kiss you, can I kiss you?" Yeah that was the end of that. Out he went and another falta da disciplina went with him. Well a few minutes after that I kicked the rest of the class out about 15 minutes early because I basically couldn't take it anymore. They weren't listening, no one was doing the exercises, they had no respect for me or anything I was trying to do in class.

After class I went to the director of the school, who is also my Peace Corps counterpart (basically my counterpart/helper person) and told her that it had to stop. She promised to speak to the class tomorrow. I felt sorry for her, she was clearly coming down with the flu or something. She's got a tough job and I feel sorry for her a lot, but she handles herself well, and I think from what I have heard, our school is one of the more disciplined in Cape Verde, if you can believe that. But just from hearing other volunteers' stories, I think this island has one of the better run schools. It's small and there aren't that many students. It's slightly easier to look after everyone if there aren't that many to begin with. So now I sit here trying to fill out a disciplinary report in Portuguese about my miscreant students. I'm tired.

Ok the first two photos and the fourth are of the parade again, the third photo is of me and my friend Stephanie who lives on Maio. The last photo is of a group of volunteers all in Mindelo for the festivities.

Ok so here are some pictures, but blogger has changed its format and I can't see the photos; they don't actually show up in the edit page anymore. So I will try and describe them the best I can. The top two are some floats that were in the parade. If you look closely at the first one, the float is actually made of garbage. I think this was a Clean Trash group of some kind. The third picture is the sunset over Mindelo, so pretty. The last two photos are pictures of the parade. There were a lot of groups of people dancing with elaborate costumes. It was very neat.

I am currently reading Ernest Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls. I have hardly read anything by him, possibly a short story when I was in high school, but none of his novels. I must say that I really do enjoy this book. I was never interested I guess because I always assumed I wouldn’t like him. But honestly, this guy’s not bad. Don’t worry this is not a book review, nor do I pretend to posses an expertise on most things literary. But there is one thing in this novel that sticks out to me: the language. Hemingway’s dialogue is that of transliterated Spanish. Meaning, if you were watching this novel as a movie, the characters would be speaking Spanish. But what Hemingway does is not translate the novel into understandable and everyday speaking English, but transliterates it from the Spanish dialogue as if you were the interpreter of the Spanish-language movie translating the dialogue word for word in your head. One of my favorite and more often used phrases is: “I obscenity in the milk of thy …” Now I was never 100% fluent in Spanish, nor did I learn nor speak it in the 1930s or 40s. But I assume that this is a slang phrase for something that could have been understandably translated into English. Something along the lines of “screw you” (wouldn’t that be an interesting phrase transliterated into another language). We instead are left here with an amusing transliteration that pretty much gets its intended meaning across.

Now, it is the use of the word ‘thy’ that truly interests me. His dialogue in transliterated English uses the subject pronouns ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ for the familiar tu form in Spanish. I remember back to my high school Spanish days when were taught all the verb conjugations, including of course the tu form. I don’t recall, however, it ever being translated as ‘thee.’ This form of communication in English is all but dead, but is it possible that transliterated, it still exists in other languages (I really wouldn’t know for sure I am also no linguist)? But it made me think about the languages here. When the TEFL volunteers were going through our language training back in July and August, we were told that the tu form in Portuguese is nearly irrelevant for us to learn. No one here uses it and in Brazil it is practically obsolete. The reason for its lack of use here in this country, I was told at the time, is familiar speaking is dominated by the language of the people, so-to-speak: Kriolu. Whenever one speaks Portuguese, it is automatically assumed you are in a formal setting and therefore there is no need to learn the informal form, you use the formal ‘you’ form of você. ‘Well, good,’ everyone thought, ‘one less conjugation for me to learn.’ Imagine my surprise, then, when I entered the classroom and the students are speaking to me in informal Portuguese. Hm. Not dead.

But it becomes a hazy line when you are trying to teach your students the translations for even simple phrases like, “Do you like to dance?” You ask them to translate and you will get two different responses: “Tu gostas dançar” or “Você gosta dançar” which isn’t really a problem until you see the confused look on some students faces, they can’t understand how two of their conjugations mean the same thing in English. It then is out of my area of TEFL expertise. Although I don’t think it would go over well if I told them that “Tu gostas dançar” literally means ‘thou likest the dance?’ But I smiled inside a little when the thought occurred to me that other languages are still using this type of communication. Because it sounds so funny to me. Maybe that’s why the Cape Verdeans were smart and just threw out this manner of speaking for a much simpler less grammatically structured blend of Portuguese and Creole. I’m sure this translation is not what they are hearing themselves when they speak in the informal form, but it just amused me that English has done away with this segregation of address, while most other languages still continue to safeguard the line that separates formality from familiarity.

Oh Carnaval. Well, in a nutshell, we had a blast. Leland and I got to Mindelo Saturday evening along with two other volunteers from Sal and a good friend of mine, Stephanie who lives on Maio. We all stayed in Casey and Elizabeth’s house in Mindelo. The people here go crazy for Carnaval. The day after Valentine’s day, students began dressing up and putting copious amounts of makeup on their faces. At first, I didn’t understand. Girls had red tights on and sparkles on their faces. I thought to myself, Valentine’s day is over, what are they all dressing like this for? Well, naturally, I asked. CARNAVAL TEACHER!! was the response I got, like “duh, what planet did you come from that you didn’t even know it was Carnaval time. Silly me thought it was in 5 days. They start things early around here. In Mindelo it was much the same. Crazy people in crazy costumes. On Sunday, there was a buzz in the air, we walked around the very cute town and just felt what it was like to be in a larger city. Sunday evening the parades began. Small, and with a few interesting floats. One was made entirely with garbage. On Monday was the big party day. Everyone in town (including ourselves) was scrambling to gather the pieces for their costumes. The children looked as they do in the US on Halloween. Everyone dresses up. The children were in Spiderman costumes, and the favorite costume of a male Cape Verdean between the ages of 16 and 40 is women’s clothing. The cross dressing was incredible. I mean these people go all out. I will post pictures later. But if you click on the link to Courtney’s blog you will see more pictures of the floats and such. Monday evening was another parade, and Elizabeth, a fellow volunteer, participated in the dancing. Afterwords, her group hosted the largest party in town, where everyone danced, drank, and partied well into the morning (although I was a little party pooper and getting sick, so I went home a little early). Tuesday was the day for the big parade. Huge floats made their way around the town along with dancers and musicians. It was truly a sight to see. I have never been to Mardi Gras in the US, but from what I hear, I think the Cape Verdean Carnaval is not nearly so scandalous. There was no bargaining for beads, if you know what I mean, and actually very little obscenity at all. It seemed to be good clean fun, although the amount of alcohol consumed by the general population (not me daddy!!) was quite astounding. Women set up little stands on the sides of the main thoroughfare roads selling drinks like water and soda but also homemade ponche de mel: basically the Cape Verean national beverage grogue (made from sugar can grown here) mixed with honey and lemons to make it sweet and thick. They handmake pastels: little fried pastries with fish inside. Some even set up a grill and sell chicken or pork skewers. It’s quite the event. Definitely very worth going to. I didn’t get a chance to go the Santo Antao, which is the island that is about an hours boat ride from Mindelo. It’s a shame really, I have heard may great things about it. I believe it is one of the more beautiful islands with ribeiras and great green mountains. Leland was there and he said it was very nice. On the way back to my island, I stopped in Sal (Leland and I have to fly through there anyway every time we want to travel from or to our island, so I figured I would just stop and rest there for a few days). I stayed with Caryn (look further down, you’ll see pictures of her. We hung out around her town, I went and sat in on one of her classes, and we went down to Santa Maria, tourist haven of Cape Verde. It really does feel like you’re in Mexico when you go down there. I could have been in any beachy tourist town on the planet. Grand hotels, overpriced drinks, more white people than natives. It was slightly surreal. There was even a sushi restaurant there for a while before it closed (I assume it went out of business, though I don’t think anyone’s too sure). But it was so nice to relax before coming back to my life again here. But all in all a great vacation.

On a separate note, I have been asked to teach a children’s English class at the Youth Center. The children will be aged 6-11, which slightly hinders things since the 6 year olds can’t read, I’ve been told. Anyway, my class begins Monday, and I will be teaching two classes three times a week for the next two months. This is, of course, on top of the teaching I already do at the high school. But we will be doing basic things like ABCs and colors, animals, etc. If anyone has any ideas, please let me know. Reminder: I am attempting to teach English to 6 year olds who don’t even speak a structured language themselves. Oh wait, I barely speak this unstructured language myself. It’s really a good thing I love children. Leland and I were surprised actually; we didn’t think anyone would be interested. I mean the children who are 11 years old, are getting ready to move into the high school where English instruction is part of the curriculum anyway. So what silly parent would want to pay 4000$00 about the equivalent of $50 to have their child learn English they’re just going to forget in three months anyway? Well, apparently a lot. Which is why we now have two classes a day instead of one. Peachy.

Emotions are tight at this point in my life. I have come halfway to the halfway point and am starting to question myself again. It’s not so much that I don’t want to be here, it’s that I really just want to be home. Everyday I think of something else I miss, something small and stupid, but it has an effect. I really do appreciate the packages, though. Aunt Lisa, Heather and Kim, the last package was perfect, so thoughtful, and of course, delicious. Thank you so much, it really does brighten my day, possibly even the week. I know this is just a rough time again, but I’m getting sick of the rough times. I just have to pull through I guess

Valentines Day

I hate Valentine’s Day. Ok wait, let me back up. I have never hated Valentine’s Day until I came to this country. I have spent the last three days making silly decorations for the Youth Center for reasons which still have not been fully explained to me. Some sort for event, I really have no clue. The other thing is, people in this country are so rediculously crazy over this holiday. Yesterday, my high school put an average-sized decorated box in the common area. ALL DAY students were piling that thing up with notes and letters they had written for their Valentine. I mean these are middle school and high school students we’re talking here. I don’t think I would have had the guts to give my secret crush a Valentine in Middle School. Even if it was done anonymously. But these kids spent all day yesterday in class and everywhere writing these elaborate phrases and drawing cheesy pictures that will be distributed today to the classes. I could not believe the enthusiasm that went into this event. I mean, maybe they are writing to their girlfriends and boyfriends. It is entirely possible that every single one of my eighth graders has a significant other. In fact when I told one class yesterday that I didn’t have a boyfriend, they all laughed and gave me looks like “yeah right, Teacher.”

Leland and I were discussing this phenomenon last night, and we could honestly not wrap our heads around it. We can’t understand why they are so into this particular holiday. And in it with such vigor. I mean, decorations, and secret letters, and cheesy phrases and poems found on the internet. They love cheesy crap like this. But the idea of a relationship is not a steady institution. In fact, I dare you to find one Cape Verdean male over the age of 16 who has not cheated on his girlfriend. The Kriolu term is troca pé, which literally means, “change feet” for cheating. So I don’t get it. It’s shameless and so enthusiastic unlike anything I have ever seen. Maybe if I say St. Valentine is in the hospital, they will all line up with equal vigor for the condoms distributed there. I don’t know.

Yes, I did receive Valentines from students and here is a sampling of what one said (yeah in English):

I love you so much
I don't know to who love you but not who smiles,
To you, who smiles to you, doesn't love you and
who love you, is here crying for you, is not
fair I need to know the reason why caan't we be
one. There's no resaon my love is here for you.
...tell me if you want will be my girlfriend.


Yeah. Not exactly sure who it was from. Doesn't matter. So rediculous.

Sorry I don’t get much time to sit on the internet for hours on end anymore, so this was written at home a few days ago, I am little behind, but hopefully that makes it a little better edited…

12 February 2007

Thank God for the preservative….

The Portuguese word for condom is preservativo.

Today, I ran into a girl from one of my eighth grade classes who hasn’t been back to class this entire trimester. I had an idea why, as it is not an uncommon phenomenon, but my suspicions were confirmed when I saw her today. She called to me on the street and I went over to see her. I always liked her; she was more often than not interested in what I had to say in class. And since she was in the Spawn of Satan class, the fact that she occasionally paid attention made me like her all the more. Well the first thing I noticed when I saw her in the street was the protruding belly. We proceeded to make small talk and I asked her why she hadn’t been back to class this trimester (already knowing the answer but isn’t that what small talk is?). She patted her belly. Having been prepared for this response, I reacted as cheerfully as I could and congratulated her. I then asked her if she was happy and she responded that she was, even though it appeared as though she was going to burst into tears just at the sight of me: a symbol of what her life was and could have been had she not made one (or probably repeated) silly decision. She told me she didn’t know the gender of the child, as she was only two months along which I know to be a complete lie as I would not have been able to see the belly from across the street had that been true. She told me this lie because she’s known about the pregnancy for a while now. My guess would be about 5 months at least. In this country, if you are pregnant you are kicked out of school immediately. She had managed to hide it until she could no longer pretend that she was simply gaining weight and dropped out of school after the first trimester of her eighth grade year. She is 15 years old.

As I walked away, I thought to myself about what anyone could have done to prevent this. Obviously this was not planned, nor had she delighted in the fact that she found some sneaky way to get out of going to school. Abstinence is about as unheard of as being on time here, so the only thing anyone can really do for these children is preservation. In steps my preservativo.

Interestingly enough, I continued to think about my pregnant student all day, including at dinner. I had decided to try one of the items my grandparents sent (by the way, thank you so much I just love everything, really). It was a package of dried beef flavored stir-fry type noodles; a miracle dish that you just add water to and instantly becomes a meal. To this I added broccoli and made a lovely dinner for two that turned out to be quite tasty. My grandparents’ package took about two months to get here, and all that time every single item in that package stayed preserved. It all arrived just as “fresh” and ready to eat as when it was purchased off the shelf 8 weeks prior. And to that I say, thank God for the preservative.

But as I started to think about my food, and my pregnant student, I realized that nothing here in this country is preserved. When we go grocery shopping, there are no mixes, no dried beef flavored noodles; not even any white eggs (on that note, I think it would be slightly amusing to show a Cape Verdean a white egg. I don’t think they would believe that it was actually a chicken egg). Everything we buy is either fresh or frozen, but never preserved. The listed ingredient on the back of the can of tomatoes is just that: tomatoes. The canned tuna contains tuna and vegetable oil. Even the jar of Nusco (a Nutella-type delicious chocolate spread) has less than 8 ingredients in it, all of which I have heard of and can pronounce. Now I am not saying that I don’t enjoy preserved food, in fact the entire time I was eating my newly acquired Ramen Noodles for lunch (thank you Grandma and Grandpa) I was praising the sodium caseinate and the disodium guanylate that made it possible for me to be enjoying such a scrumptious lunch.

The idea of such a preservative is not in practice here the way it is in the States. We Americans preserve everything, including ourselves. I mean, granted of course, we definitely have our fair share of unplanned teenage pregnancies. But the educational backing for preservation is there and there are an abundant number of resources for anyone who is interested. That is hardly an option here. There is no CVS or Osco pharmacy down the street that I can pick up my choice of condoms, let alone a Planned Parenthood. Here, there is only the public hospital or the occasional day when they are given out at school. And NO ONE wants to be seen going into the hospital for just condoms. The waiting room is the steps outside of the too-small building so everyone sees you go in and out. Apparently the backwards philosophy is that they are too embarrassed to be seen going into the hospital to get condoms for fear everyone will know what they are up to, but when they show up three months later for the sonogram, that’s ok.

So there is some work to be done in this much-unpreserved country. The food can stay as is. And while it is a little blander and not nearly so tasty and interesting as the preservative-infused miracle foods, it is by far healthier, and in this sense they are preserving their bodies. But this society needs to continue the preservation of themselves; not allow their 15 year old daughters to get pregnant. Education is the only road I see, and I am currently trying my hardest to push for it. But I am one person, albeit accompanied by 40 other volunteers in this country who are hopefully trying as hard as I am. So I will continue to eat my Ramen noodles while perusing over more effective ways of educating the youth about self-preservation. And it is to this I say: thank God for the preservative :)

I had some interesting thoughts last night while I was in a particularly funky mood. Tuesdays are my day from hell. Between teaching class and tutoring I spend about a total of 6 hours at school. Boo.

Oh the glory days. I almost can't remember a time without...:

1. Credit/debit cards. Everything is cash. I can't even buy a plane ticket without cash.
2. A car
3. New music
4. Movie theater/new movies (although the video rental place that provides sometimes sketchy copies of movies is fairly up to date. And on that note, Miami Vice should go down in history as the worst movie on the planet).
5. Leland
6. A beach and hammock
7. Painting/learning Arabic and Hebrew for fun. I mean who does that besides Leland and me?
8.Writing this blog.
9. Seeing my family for over 6 months straight. I miss them :(
10. Cooking all my own meals (although I should get used to this. It's not a unique PC thing I know).
11. Rarely speaking my own language (of course except with Leland).
12. SHOPPING!!! Oh how I miss you Scottsdale Fashion Square. Don't worry Coach store, I'll be back!!
13. Um oh yeah, HOT WATER. Although interesting note, I actually took the time to warm up water this morning and take a bucket bath. It was so all it was cracked up to be.
14. Handwashing and hanging all my clothes. Please see picture below. Trust me when I say I do this every 3-4 weeks and I am sore for the next week afterwords.
15. My friends. I miss you guys :(
16. Making fun of my sister to the amusement of my brother.
17. Cheap(ish, relatively) fruits and vegetables.
18. CHIPOTLE!!! Enough said.
19. Not using a match every time you light the stove/oven. You get burned more than you think.
20. Plastic lawn furniture. Yes, our tables and chairs provided by the PC are outdoor plastic patio furniture. Classy.
21. The dollar. I have no concept. Who wants to shop with escudos? Or at all?
22. BABW!!!
23. Yeah my little law school buddies!! :) Congrats on being over 1/2 way through Brian and Melanie!!
24. ZOO CREW!! Can we all meet up and do something gong-show like, like play touch football at 3am in the snow?
25. Vegas. Who wants to go? Brian, I knew you'd say yes.
26. 24/7 Internet access. Although in all fairness, I have it better than a lot of other volunteers.
27. TV. What even is that?
28. SUNS games. Daddy I'd go with you!
29. Ranch dressing (but thank you Mel for the steady supply, I think about you every time I eat it, which is like everyday)
30. While we're on food topics, SUSHI!! I love sushi so much. And a decent salad. Like the Southwest Caesar Salad from Paradise Bakery.
31. A garbage can. Remarkably, you can't buy one here on my island. So we hang plastic carrier bags from the kitchen door knob. Incidentally, if you're looking for something to pad those packages, those plastic bags you get from the grocery stores very much come in handy here. Wait, what's a grocery store?
32. Exercise. I've become kinda freakish about that.
33. The symphony chorus of dogs outside our apartment. Oh yeah and sleeping with ear plugs.
34. Obscene amounts of dust/sand everywhere. I mean everywhere.
35. Wearing glasses everyday. I wear contacts about once a week. They hurt my eyes. See point 34.
36. Not having a couch. We have a foam double bed mattress that substitutes poorly.
37. Heating/AC.
38. Drinking water out of a refillable filter. Believe me when I say it's a huge pain in the behind to fill that thing up like every other day.
39. No sliced bread. Seriously.
40. Making silly lists like this :)

Well that's all I have to say for now.

A few years ago, there was a contest in the United States that asked people to write an exposition on American life and culture. I don't remember the exact details of the contest but I do remember that the winner was a returned Peace Corps Volunteer. It is not that Americans don't fully understand their own culture, but those who are removed from that culture for a time experience a type of insiders scoop to an outside opinion. There are several groups of people who remove themselves from Western culture for various reasons. Those in the Military, for example, are asked to leave their friends and families and serve an aspect of life that involves removing themselves from their culture, while remaining culturally aloof in the country they are serving. On a culturally similar level, people in foreign service travel to countries to serve a government and therefor live slightly above the norm. Now, I am not trying to be the poster child for Peace Corps service, you all know that this experience has had its taxing moments. But my point is the PC service allows you to live amongst people. I live, work, hang out, talk, joke, laugh with these people. The Peace Corps has three pillars of cultural immersion: 1. To help those within the host country help themselves; 2. For us volunteers to learn about another culture (and then in turn bring that knowledge back with us); 3. To help our host country to better understand our culture. What happens when you live and breathe amongst another culture while still retaining values and memories of your original culture, you blend the last two pillars of cultural immersion together. I have started to learn about me and my original culture. It's like looking at an older version of yourself through the eyes of someone whose life is nearly the complete polar opposite of your previous existence. It is in this sense that the winner of the contest was able to so completely evaluate and comment on American life and culture.

Yesterday I found myself browsing the Internet Movie Database. After looking at the nominees for the next Academy Awards and realizing I had heard of none of them (nor had I seen previews, nothing), I decided to get a better idea of the basic plot outline for a few of these upper echelon movies. Now, admittedly, the film industry (and on a slightly larger scale, entertainment as a whole), is only a part of Western culture, but a fairly significant part in my opinion. But what I stumbled upon were the top five movies currently playing at the box office (disclaimer: I am going solely by what IMDb.com posted so I don't know exactly how accurate it is or how often they update). Of course, having heard of none of them, I decided to browse each one for a plot summary. What I found made me (and Leland) laugh out loud. In first place was your typical potty-humored, Wayans brothers mock of every serious movie that has made over $100 million in the past year or so. In second, was (again typical) mobster, hit-em-up chaser movie with a lot of cultural slang and cool regional accents. Third came another cheesy, trying-too-hard to be funny Ben Stiller comedy with an excuse for lame comedy engulfed by an even lamer plot line. Fourth made us laugh the hardest: the predominantly African American dance-off movie, made with the same cookie cutter as You Got Served, Save the Last Dance and even Drumline. And finally, in fifth place came the staple romantic comedy about a woman trying to move on in life after tragedy strikes (yes, I know my idol Jennifer Gardner graced this one, but as lovely as she is, come on). I feel like the only thing missing from the list was a sleeper Sundance flick or a save-the-world before the hour and half is up type craziness.

Now, I understand that I have just garnered a flash, a glimpse if you will, of American life. But that is exactly my point. Because my entire world doesn't flow within American culture, I can step back and observe when and what I want. And having an insider perspective (having lived within this American culture for 20 years of my life) allows me to more objectively evaluate nuances within the culture. I can watch your life go buy with a filter, observing points that stand out the most. And because these points of culture tend to stand out so much (and because American culture has always been something of a fluorescent light to a bug) people in other cultures tend to pick up on these major points. So in this instance, I am not only gaining my own unique perspective on American culture, but I can also observe others observing American culture and therefor understand why they have the views that they do. If a Cape Verdean were to look at my list of five movies, for example, the would probably be interested in only two of them. Movie number two because of its gun-toting, shoot-em-up ridiculousness and movie number four because of the dancing contest and the fact that most of the cast is African American. They may even assume that all the actors are Cape Verdeans who are living in America.

Which brings me to my next point. The general outlook on life as well as areas of common sense are often astoundingly naive or just very different. For example, we have an African American volunteer her with us. When he arrived, everyone just assumed that he was Cape Verdean. Not that he was from the country Cape Verde, but that he was a Cape Verdean living in America. They just assume that all the black people they see in America were at one point Cape Verdean. That another African country has people living in the US is a concept a lot of people here don't understand. Another example: During my medical issues, I left for Praia on a Wednesday (missing that day of class) and returned the following Wednesday (missing that day of classes as well as all the days in between) and returned to classes Thursday. But because I returned in the middle of the week, my students denied the fact that I had been gone a whole week. "No," one of my students said, "It's only Thursday. You haven't been gone a whole week!" I argued with my tenth graders for five minutes, insisting that I had missed four classes and not two (as they had assumed because they seemed to have forgotten that I was gone for two classes the week before). Because I wasn't gone a named week, I clearly wasn't gone for a whole week. Even though eight days, to me, constitutes slightly more than a full week, no matter how you name it. It's these simple and minute observations that interest me. I often wonder where the foundation for this type of thinking came from. And then you see their ideas of America, that everyone is rich and the weather is perfect all the time (granted these views are not limited to Cape Verdeans, but probably a majority of similarly situated countries). But being immersed within this culture I am starting to grasp where these opinions come from. One cannot look at the representation of American culture in my magic list of movies and not gain some kind of crazy conclusion. So here are my own conclusions about a life I left behind and can now only glimpse when I get a flash of a cultural point that was strong enough to make its to my newly found cultural level and side of the world.

Some random thoughts:

It's just about perfect here as far as weather is concerned. At night and in the morning it's a little chilly, you need a sweatshirt. But as soon as the sun hits, it's nice and toasty, even a little too warm; but in the shade, with the breeze it's just lovely. Sort of like how Arizona should be around this time of year. If it wasn't snowing and freezing all the flowers.

There are a lot of pregnant women on this island. I mean, the population of this place is tiny, and there seem to be many women who are preggers. Helena (I have mentioned her before, she's the Portuguese teacher who took us to Joao Galego) is pregnant and just thrilled about it. Last week, an OBGyn arrived on the island and created quite the crowd. I believe he may have been here on vacation, he was staying at the hotel Leland and I stayed at when we first arrived. Or maybe his coming to treat the women here was an excuse for him to come to this island when the weather is just perfect. Helena informed me after class one day that she had to hurry and get to the pensão (hotel) so she could wait with all the other pregnant women to see the doctor. I walked in front of the hotel the next day where there were swarms of pregnant women waiting to see the doctor. Maybe if they lined up this eagerly for some sort of birth control method, they all wouldn't be as uncomfortable (ie waiting on the street for who knows how long while pregnant). But who knows, I'm sure a small percentage of those women may have actually planned to be pregnant.

Leland and I went to a town called Estância do Baixo (literally translated as 'lower state') on Saturday. A woman (Elizabeth) who teaches at the high school with me is dating a guy (Shon) who works at the Youth Center with Leland. So they invited us to their house on Saturday. We packed up food and drinks and headed out to the desert just outside their town. Shon dug a small hole in the ground, filled it with coal and lighter fluid and we had ourselves one of the best bar-b-ques I've ever been to. We ate and then we rolled around in the desert the whole day (don't worry, pictures will follow). The desert there is beautiful. It looks like the Sahara (although in all fairness I don't actually know what the Sahara looks like in person); it is filled with just sand dune after sand dune, with the occasional rock formation and random tree. We picnicked right under a huge tree and hung hammocks, talked and just chilled all day. It was all around a great time. It almost made up for the fact that we came home to no water.

Sunday, since there was no water, I spent the entire day on the beach in a hammock, and Leland windsurfed. It was a perfect day for lounging around. And in the evening I got to speak to my parents! That made me very happy. Luckily the water came back today, which is good because I still have sand caked in my scalp. But if you ever get the chance to barrel-roll down a sand dune, I highly recommend it.

So randomness, and fun. And the countdown has begun until we go to Mindelo for Carnaval (sort of the Cape Verde version of Mardi Gras). Leland and I are leaving in less than three weeks to take a vacation on the island of Sao Vicente. The second largest city, Mindelo, is famous for its Carnaval: a three day festival of craziness. We can't wait.

Before I begin, I just want to say that I am fine, everything is ok for the most part, so that's over. I am back from the big bad city and have discovered a few things over the past week. First and foremost: The Big City it slightly intimidating. My tiny town of Sal Rei, Boa Vista has just over 2,000 people. But not only is the population small, the town is condensed. There are no outlying neighborhoods, everything is packed within a 10-15 minute walking distance. Even the town I lived in during training (Sao Domingos) had twice as many people and the town spanned a least 4-5 times the distance. Everything is so spread out on Santiago.

We have one fairly large grocery store in my town (at least I thought it was large). It carries all your basics, plus the occasional foreign bonus. For example, you can almost always get chicken, beef, some sort of fish, eggs, flour, pasta, and kitchen items such as dish soap, napkins, etc. Recently, they had a load of spices come in, which was a nice treat. And about a week ago, they managed to import Suaza and Jose Quervo tequila. Something, I discovered, you cannot even get in Praia. Yay for us. But walking into the grocery stores in Praia is like a whole new world. There is one large "Americanized" grocery store that carries fruits and vegetables, and has a meat counter that is nicely stocked, but for all organizational and cleanliness purposes, still posses that air of Cape Verde. In another area of town, there is brand new grocery store that opened up since I have been in Praia (about 5 months ago). Being inside of it felt like being in any grocery store in central London. It was so European. There is just no other word to describe it. It was three stories. On the first floor were most of the food items, including a proper meat counter that was clean and organized, a produce section to rival some American stores, and isles upon isles of goods you would never dream of finding on my island. Things like soy sauces, curry pastes, even a Nando's brand piri piri (like we don't have enough of our own piri piri here). The second floor had beverages and household items and toiletries and on the third floor was an LG Electronics store. In between the second and third floors there was even a cafe with fancy tables and everything. It was so foreign to me, and yet part of the same country that I am living in. Cafes and restaurants (mostly, I noticed, foreign-owned) are mirroring ones you could find anywhere in Paris, London, or Italy.

Is this considered advancement? Because Europeans have brought their money and their exports and have built these big fancy stores with foreign goods? I never took an economic development class in my life but is this how we are going to pull this entire country out of its borderline third world status? That is a question I cannot even give an opinion on, I know too little of these things to pretend to be an expert. The interesting thing about this particular country is that we are a group of islands. And just because one city has managed to propel itself into borderline second world status, doesn't mean the rest of the country, or even the rest of that particular island, will immediately follow. These cafes and stores are highlights of an advancing nation, but the outlying neighborhoods are still poor and living in cinder-block huts with no electricity. Any country has this contrast, even in the United States, not everyone is on the same economic level obviously. But as far as growth is concerned, are the richer going to get richer, leaving the poor to get poorer? Or are all the economic levels going to grow together, still maintaining a class structure, but elevating them all to a level that is tolerable for everyone? Only time will tell.

In the meantime, other minute differences were noticed, which left me to ponder which place I would rather be: Praia, or Sal Rei. Taxi cabs are a must for any type of travel, especially at night. You have to carry your purse in front of you and guard it all times. There are a lot of people, and knowing every person who passes you in the street is nearly impossible. In Sal Rei, I can walk anywhere anytime probably naked with money taped to me and no one would bother me. Day, night, purse in front or in back, makes no difference. There is hardly any crime here in my town, and being on your guard is something that doesn't need to be thought of every time you step out onto the street. Praia, however, has it's markets with clothes and food of all kinds. The fact that there are more people there allows you to diversify your friendship base, also leaving more chances to maybe meet that special someone (not that I'm looking). Sal Rei, no one is really coming in or out of this town, it pretty much stays the same all the time. Same people, same festivities, same places to go, etc. But I never thought too much about that until I went to Praia, realizing that there were a million restaurants, clubs, bars, shops. I even saw the exact make and model of my father's car, only in black. That care was a rarity in Arizona!! My jaw was open for about 30 seconds after seeing it. Here in Sal Rei, there is one discotheque, a few restaurants, and one main grocery store, and all, like 10, of the privately owned vehicles are easily identified. But I like my town, and I like the people in it, and of course I love my beach. Boa Vista in general is just so laid back, "tud tranquil" as the Boa Vistans would say. Praia, is like a fast paced city; the New York City, if you will, of Cape Verde. I feel like Sal Rei is like Pensacola (although in all fairness I haven't been back there in a while). But just that type of feel to it. A small town where everyone takes it easy, hangs out on the beach, no one worries too much. The trade off is we don't have all the fancy things you can find in the big city. But it seems to suit us just fine.

In other news, my birthday went surprisingly well. During the day I suffered through uncomfortable doctors appointments and a blood draw or two. But in the evening, Neusa took me and another volunteer out to dinner. From there we went to yet another volunteer's house. Her college-aged students were throwing a goodbye party at her house for a student who was leaving to go to the United States. So my birthday kind of got incorporated into the party. It was fun: full of dancing, eating, and just having fun. So all in all, a fairly decent birthday celebration. Sidebar, I can't believe I am 24 years old. That's like mid-20s. The only downside, was I was practically unreachable so my parents were unable to call me on my birthday. But hopefully, I will speak to them tomorrow. Well that is all from me, I know this was a long one, but sometimes you just have a lot to say :)

Well, as most of you know, tomorrow is my birthday. I will be 24 years old. I think that officially puts me in the "mid-twenties." Yikes. But instead of celebrating with friends and family at home, or even with friends on my own little island of Boa Vista, I am here in the capital city of Praia, awaiting doctors appointments. I won't bore anyone with the details, I don't think there is anything to worry about, but let me just say that the word "lump" tends to freak everyone out. So I am here in this city. I am not exactly sure how many people live in Praia but I do know that it's over twice the amount that live on my entire island. So when I got here, I found myself a little dissoriented. You can't really go anywhere unless you take a cab because the city is so large and there are a lot of big hills. Plus it's not that safe here. I have to say, that I don't really like it. I have been a little afraid to venture out into the city, for fear that I won't be able to find my way back to the Peace Corps office or my hotel. It's a slightly alarming feeling. In my tiny 2000 person town of Sal Rei, Boa Vista you can walk from one end to the other in 15 minutes at the most! I hadn't even stepped foot inside a car for 2 or 3 months until yesterday when one had to take me to the airport.

But when I made this comment to Neusa, the Training Manager, she looked shocked. "You were overwhelmed by this?" she said, "what are you going to do when you get back to the States?" Hm. I thought. That's a good question. But I don't think it was necessarily the size of the city that intimidated me. It was simply being in a strange place and not being able to completely flow with the language and culture. It took me a little while to get used to the people and way of life on Boa Vista and I feel comfortable there. Being here is strange and different, and it's not my town. If had to live here, I would (hopefully) have no problem adapting to the people and culture here. But I don't have to live here, so I will go back to my little beach town where all the roads are second nature, and I can recognize just about everyone. I thought that maybe getting off my island for a few days would be nice. It just goes to show, be careful what you wish for.

As far as my birthday goes, Neusa offered to cook dinner at her house tomorrow night for me and invite the Volunteers that live in Praia to go as well. But I thank you for your comments and the packages that are being sent. I really don't have any special requests, but you can pretty much send anything. There are no restrictions on imported stuff, at least not that I know of. But this country is pretty relaxed, I think I could talk my way into getting a cow sent over here if I wanted to. So don't worry about restrictions, in fact don't worry at all. Whatever you send, I am sure I will love it. And thank you again.

Me and my friend Caryn who visited us just after New Years
Me and Leland at one of our favorite restaurants for dinner. Yes, daddy there is wine on the table. Also notice the large poster behind us of delicious fruit that you can't get here.
Mel, Courtney and me at the beach. They arrived to visit just a few days after Caryn.

Nice day for a stroll on the beach...
The windsurf shack where we hang out sometimes.
Courtney, Leland, Mel, and me at the beach in Sal Rei. The surf shack is behind the camera.
Me doing laundry on New Years Eve. The water had come back on 30 mins before this after 8 days without. So I panicked and did the laundry before we ran out again.
Us just chillin at the surf shack.

"So, why did you decide to join the Peace Corps?" If I could feed a starving child for every time someone asked me that, there would be no more starving children in the world. I tend to give a different answer every time, depending on the mood. But, honestly, I don't have a good answer. And now I am here. I had placed myself in the mindset that this was my life, but as my grandmother aptly corrected me: not a life, a lifestyle. She is absolutely right. This is not my life. This is a temporary state until I find my next temporary state. I guess that could be the best answer to the afore mentioned question that has just hypothetically rid the world of hunger.

But what if I have decided what I want that next stage in my life to be? Do I maintain this current state, and just wait it out? Or do I jump to the next thing, eager to begin something else. I am, by nature, a quitter. But in my mind, I wouldn't be quitting so much as moving on a little faster than I had previously anticipated. There's a word for that as well: impatience. Something else I tend to practice. These are just my latest musings. Oh, the thoughts of an idle weekend.

Don't get me wrong, I do like it here, and I do intend to stay for the entire two years. And while teaching is not the easiest thing in the world, it definitely has its moments and rewards. The kids tend to grow on you. I care about them too much to leave under any circumstances. But I have sort of figured out what I want to do with the rest of my life which is more than I can say for myself six months ago when I got on the plane to get here. I was going to place myself in a temporary lifestyle until I figured out what to do with myself the rest of my life. Well I figured it out a little quicker than I thought, so now the waiting comes. Luckily, we do a LOT of that here, so I'm used to it. But coming here became about the people here as well as me. So now the lifestyle becomes richer and the day to day routine becomes bearable and even somewhat comfortable.

Speaking of patience, it no longer bothers me when I have to wait at the post office for 45 minutes for apparently no reason. Or at the airline office when there is one person in front of me, and I have been waiting for 20 minutes. Leland commented that we have learned to simply space out really well in situations that call for it. It doesn't even bother me anymore when the little girl sitting behind me kicks my chair for an hour straight. Or when the sketchy video we rent from the slightly sketchy video store skips and freezes right at the climax of the movie. I have finally been given the gift of patience. Amazing.

So I will be patient and I will get through this and when something else unexpected happens (like the gas running out at exactly the worst moment in time...hasn't happened yet, but we expect it to at any wrong moment), then we will expect it, as we have learned to expect the unexpected. And if something does catch us by surprise we always have patience and adaptation on hand to help us out. Plus where else in the world could you be sitting in an auditorium full of people cheering on a group of 8 year old girls dancing like they're simply missing the pole and we should be holding a fistful of $1? Yes, Leland and I were quite horrified, but everyone else seemed to enjoy it (there were even glimpses of pride), so we clapped right along wide-eyed and slightly stunned. So, in conclusion, I will see you all in 19 months :)

Hello everyone. Yes, it's been a while since I blogged. Actually just a week or so, but to me it feels like a lot longer. I hope all your Christmas and New years holidays were nice and well-spent. Ours were good here as well. It's not often that you get to lounge on the beach in the month of January. The New Years passed for me fairly quietly, as Leland and I got back from dinner around 10pm and discovered the water had come back on (count it: 8 days without water). So naturally, I freaked out and immediately began doing the laundry. Don't worry, I have a photo. Here, actually counting down to the New Year isn't as big of a deal as the all night party that immediately follows it. So Leland went out and tried to find this all-night party. I stayed home and did the laundry and actually had a great time doing it. I'm not sure I could have stayed up all night dancing and partying. Plus it ended up costing about $35 for the party, and money is a little tight right now, to say the least.

Well the day after New Years, our friend Caryn came down from Sal to hang with us for a few days. A couple days after her, Mel and Courntey came in from Santiago. It's funny, because out of 45 or so of us Cape Verde volunteers, 9 or 10 of us are Capricorns. Courtney commences the month, and I am the last. Caryn, Mel, and Leland are all Capricorns as well. So we had a mini-Capricorn celebration while they were here. Our plan was also to chill on the beach and just take a relaxing vacation before what we thought was going to be an All-Volunteer Conference. The five of us were supposed to fly back to Santiago together last Sunday and meet all the rest of the volunteers on all the islands for a big large conference. But, of course, in true Peace Corps style, they cancelled it two days before we were supposed to fly out, leaving Caryn a little stranded on our island. The Saharan desert tends to have these really large dust storms that blow all the way over here to the islands and end up grounding a bunch of flights all around the islands. So it appeared as though some of the volunteers weren't going to make it, so the conference has been postponed until March. Needless to say, we are all very dissappointed. We were all looking forward to getting off our respective islands and seeing everyone again. It just makes me even happier that people came out to visit us over the winter break, even though we had water problems.

So now we have all been unexpectedly thrown back into our jobs, and to the dismay of my students, I won't be missing any classes any time soon. It was just such an upset to all of our schedules. Leland was planning all his projects around the conference; I hadn't prepared lessons or anything because I wasn't prepared to come back to school yet. And mentally we were all in vacation mode still. So this week has been a little rough, and it's only Wednesday. I just was not prepared to be working this week.

Time passes quickly here, only because you look forward to the next activity. The conference was the activity that everyone was looking forward to. Now Leland and I have planned to go to another island in the middle of February for a large festival. It's kind of like the Cape Verde version of Mardi Gras. So that will have to suffice as the next large event, even though it is 5 weeks away. But time will pass, as it always does and before I know it, it will be summer (something I also am looking forward to imensely). But we are back to work, back to the daily grind, and back to the daily minor struggles that are our lives. I know you are all feeling the same thing. But another year begins, and here we go.

Me cooking the mashed potatoes. Yummy.

yay our little baby hilal chickens. so cute.
this was our pathetic christmas tree.
Me in our kitchen with the cooking all finished.
The group of us at Christmas dinner. Brady, me, Jocelyn, Daniel (jocelyn's boyfriend from the States), Yasmine, Leland. Jon is taking the picture (so obviously you can't see him).

Weekend full of Christmas fun, friends, frozen chickens, and in true Peace Corps style, water shortages.

Day 1: Saturday December 23rd 2006

8:00 am: Wake up, wash sheets, prepare for guests to arrive. Watch several movies to pass the time.

4:10 pm: Guests arrive: Brady, Jon, Yasmin, Jocelyn, and Jocelyn’s boyfriend from the US. We all sit around and talk a while.

4:30 pm: Take Jocelyn and boyfriend to hotel to check in. Walk around the town a bit.

6:00 pm: Everyone’s hungry. All eat dinner, discuss going to discothèque later.

9:05 pm: Come home from dinner, decide to relax a bit before we go out.

11:00 pm: I take a shower, begin to get ready.

11:30 pm: Jon’s turn to shower.

11:33 pm: Hear Jon in the bathroom: “Nadia, I think I am too stupid to turn on your shower”

11:34 pm: Go in to check. Have a small panic attack as we turn on all the faucets in the house and none produce water.

11:36 pm: Enter Leland and Nadia swearing profusely.

11:40 pm: Decide to react to water outage by getting drunk and going to discothèque anyway.

2:30 am: Leave discothèque disappointed at the crap DJ.

3:00 am: Say my prayers before sleeping that water will miraculously arrive tomorrow.

Day 2: Sunday, December 24th, 2006
Update: Still no water.

10:00 am: Head over to Jocelyn’s hotel to brush teeth, wash face, use bathroom.

11:00 am: Decide to go to the beach, there’s water there.

11:32 am: Have a panic attack again: how am I going to cook mashed potatoes and broccoli cheese without water?? If we’re out, then everyone’s scrambling to get water.
I must scramble too!!

11:34 am: Leave beach to go purchase some 5 litre bottles of water.

11:56 am: Come home, feel a little better. Notice funky smell coming from bathroom area. Investigate smell realize it’s result of 5 people living in one house using the same toilet and not flushing. Foresee outbreak of dysentery.

12:20 pm: Everyone else still at beach, decide to take a nap. Having no water is mentally exhausting.

2:00 pm: Take chickens out of freezer and place in refrigerator to defrost overnight.

3:00 pm: Brady, Jocelyn, and Yasmin come back from beach, we go look for some food.

3:32 pm: Find a place serving little tiny sandwiches. Decide to splurge on large dinner. Did not remember we were to have very large dinner the next night as well.

8:00 pm: After some have showered at hotel room to dirty looks of hotel staff, we go to dinner. Discuss going to discothèque again for their large X-Mas bash.

9:45 pm: Disco idea vetoed, as we are all stuffed, tired, and have no water (this seems to influence a lot of decisions made).

11:00 pm: All lie down, watch a movie, I go to bed instead.

11:03 pm: Say prayers again hoping water will appear on Christmas day as a gift from the water company or providence in general.

Day 3: Monday, December 25th, 2006 Merry Christmas.
Update: Still no water, can no longer enter bathroom because of smell.

10:00 am: Wake up. Brady, Yasmin and I go to hotel to shower, brush teeth, use bathroom.

11:56 am: We come back, everyone decides to go on a hike. I stay behind; contemplate cleaning house, cooking dinner, and the funky bathroom smell.

12:30 pm: Take chickens out of the refrigerator. They are still frozen. Of course they are.

12:31 pm: Have a minor panic attack. Decide to clean the house.

12:47 pm: Decide that our X-Mas present to ourselves will be to flush the toilet. The one flush we get until the water comes back on.

1:03 pm: Clean the few dirty dishes with ½ liter of left over drinking water.

1:17 pm: House is cleaner, smells better (thanks to bleach in the toilet), and I am slightly happier.

1:19 pm: Sit down, put on the 7 X-Mas songs I own (including 4 different versions of O Holy Night) and just sit listening. Wish myself a Merry Christmas.

1:46 pm: Check chickens. Still frozen. Enter swear word of choice here (sorry Grandma, and by the way, Happy Birthday!!).

4:04 pm: Decide to marinate chickens anyway. Maybe by 5pm they will be thawed completely. Ignore ice chunks still in between the legs.

7:19 pm: Dinner is completely ready and completely delicious: SUCCESS!
Three baby chickens marinated in piri piri, garlic, seasoned salt, pepper, and rosemary roasted with potatoes and carrots; served with mashed potatoes, broccoli-cauliflower cheese, sweet corn, and gravy.
Give myself a small pat on the back for nothing going wrong (as would have been expected, judging by the weekend we were having).

9:32 pm: Ceremonial flushing of the toilet. Merry Christmas. A fresh start to make a new funky smell.

12:00 am: Can’t do dishes, just go to bed.

Day 4: Tuesday, December 26th, 2006
Update: Nope, still no water.

10:00 am: Wake up, wander around Vila, find that all the important businesses are closed, i.e. Youth Center (has internet and bathroom) and our building office (has person who fixes water).

2:30 pm: Put friends in taxi to airport. Sad to see them go.

2:36 pm: Depression sinks in as friends are gone, no washing of the dishes or flushing toilet is possible. Decide to drown sorrows by sleeping the rest of the day.
Apartment once again smells like a port-o-potty.

Christmas would not have been the same without the friends. I am very grateful they came. A lonely Christmas dinner with no water would have been miserable, but they made it bearable and funny. I also discovered that I very much need to find a hobby/occupation for the next two weeks or I will go crazy.

Short update: we still have no water and when I asked our landlord this morning when he thought we were going to get water, he said that water this week is very difficult. Even though it is only our building that seems to be having trouble with water. But, he said, maybe by Friday we would have water. For those of you that were paying attention, that will add up to about 1 week without water. Our apartment smells like rotten food. Aaaaand we've hit another low point. Hope you all celebrated your holidays well. I will have pictures of our dinner and stuff up in a little while. Happy New Year!

First, I just want to say thank you for the comments. I don't think you understand how much I appreciate it when people leave comments on my blog. It's very comforting, if that makes any sense. So thank you :)

Well I went to the market this morning to pick up my freshly killed chickens, and the lady who was supposedly getting them for me gave me some story about maybe they were here yesterday, but now they aren't here. Sorry. I was actually not surprised. Or angry. Well now what to do? Earlier in the week, I had seen some frozen turkeys in one of the mercados (small grocery store). But when I went over there this morning, no turkeys. All sold out. They did, however, have whole frozen ducks (I know right?!). They also, thankfully had little teeny frozen baby chickens, each about 2-3lbs each. So there were my choices: tiny frozen baby chickens (halal chickens from Brazil, no less. I know, very bizarre), whole frozen duck (I don't even know how to begin to cook a duck), OR we could go to the large grocery store and pay $15 a kilo for a whole roast to make roast prime rib. It was quite the weird, twilight zone sort of choice. Well, Leland and I didn't want to pay the money for the beef, plus our oven is finicky and if I screwed up a $30 piece of meat I would be very angry with myself. I have no clue how to cook a duck, plus duck on Christmas seemed a little odd. So we will now have seven people for Christmas dinner here: a Jew, a Muslim, a few Christians of various sects, and an agnostic. All sitting around three baby halal chickens. On Christmas. I thought the idea was very amusing. Sorry if I offended anyone with the religious comments, I just thought it was funny.

I will also make mashed potatoes, gravy (thank you mother), sweet corn, and we will roast potatoes and carrots in with the chickens. But the best part of all is the broccoli-cauliflower cheese. And of course fudge for dessert. So hopefully the cooking will go well, and I won't burn down the kitchen like I almost did last time. Our friends arrive tomorrow and we are so excited to have them here. The weather has been nice, a little cool, but perfect for beach lounging. They are coming from an island that doesn't really have any beaches, so it will be a nice change for them. The packages have not arrived, so I will have no gifts this year, but I will have halal chickens and broccoli cheese. And of course, my friends. I mean, come on? What more could I possibly ask for :) Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you celebrate the day well.

I think I would like to talk about racial issues this time. I do not want to sound racist at all, and it is by no means my intention to offend anyone, I just want to tell it like I see it. And it might be a long blog, so if you're not interested in this type of subject, then skip on my friend.

Briefly: The Cape Verde islands are located just under 400 miles from Senegal on the west coast of Africa. Our country is technically part of the continent of Africa, just as Madagascar is. As I have mentioned before, the people here do not look typically African. There is heavy European intermixing, especially in the northern islands, and here on Boa Vista as well because of the tourism and European business venturists. We have a very strong influence of Italians and Portuguese, and there is a lot of interracial marriages. So in this sense a lot of the Africa people here look like African Americans; meaning they still appear with African influence, but lack the dark color that is stereotypical of African appearence. And then there are people here who have immigrated from Senegal and Guinea-Bassau and even Nigeria. You can always single these people out. The color of their skin is very dark, and they are strikingly black. These continental countries have experienced little interracial mixing, almost none and therefor are true black people. As I mentioned before, they are immigrants, and so work jobs that a typical immigrant works in any country, and are therefore slightly poorer than most of the rest of the "Cape Verdean" population. They live in a seperate part of town, that resembles a slum-like little village and mostly keep to themselves.

Now to most of us (namely most volunteers and Americans in general I would hope) race has long since been a major cultural issue. There is, of course, the occassional off-color comment, or the small joke among close friends (even multi-racial close friends). But the kind of racism that I have seen on this island alone is completely appalling. I have to say that I am wholly surprised at the level and severity of the racism that is freely expressed on a daily basis. I think it stems from the idea that Cape Verdeans don't really consider themselves 'African' in a sense. They seem to have forgotten that, although they are not technically on the continent, their country is part of this area of the world. The continental Africans, those from Senegal and Guinea are often scorned or made fun of. A friend of ours who works at the bar accross the street is from Guinea-Bassau and when we go to the disco, he cannot get any girl to dance with him. Not becuase he is an unattractive person, but because he is "African". Yesterday I was sitting around at the Youth Center with Leland and the five other people he works with there. One lady, Vilma, is probably the lightest in skin color of the five of them. She may be fairer than I am. It looks like she maybe has some Brazillian influence (also very common around here). She is well-educated, has travelled to both Portugal and Brazil, I believe, and is university educated and works with computers. Iva, the director of the Youth Center, made a comment yesterday that we should all go to the continent of Africa for a vacation. Everyone who works at the Youth Center should pick a few countries like Senegal and Guinea and travel around for a few weeks or so. The others were discussing it and Vilma chimed in, "No, I don't want to go to black Africa. Let's go to Brazil!" I hope my mouth was not too wide open when I looked at her.

But that is the kind of mentality that is so apparent here. Their background is so diverse, that I believe they think themselves better than everyone else. It's ironic that the mixed-race people should find themselves for once feeling above the pure-blood race. Very un-Harry Potter :) I was trying to think today if I could complare this mentality with any that most people in the world are familiar with, but I just couldn't think of another instance where this was the case. So I thought I would share this little social conundrum with you all.

Christmas has finally sneaked its way into daily life. The Youth Center where I now spend most of my time, is decorated with twinkle lights and a small Christmas tree. It's a little bizarre. Our friends from Sao Niccolau are coming down on Saturday and I am very excited to see friendly faces. We have asked some ladies that we know in the Norte to sell us two chickens. I made sure that they were going to give them to me ready to cook. I didn't want her to hand me the whole chicken still squawking, as I could foresee happening. So we have decided to roast the two chickens along with potatoes and carrots. I'll make mashed potatoes as well. And get this!! I found frozen broccoli and cauliflower!!! I was so excited yesterday, it honestly made my entire day, and quite possibly my month. I am not even joking.

I have been pretty down lately, as it looks like the the last two packages my mother sent will not arrive. They were sent normal mail, no tracking or anything which probably lead to their theft in the mail. Things thus far have not had a problem arriving, but with the holidays, I believe that people get desperate, especially in a third world country. So needless to say, I am giftless and not a little disappointed. So disappointed in fact that I burst into tears in the Post Office yesterday, much to the dismay of the lady who was helping me send out a package to my family. It's been 7 weeks now since the first package was sent out and I have pretty much given up all hope. It doesn't help that my entire family (including extended family on both sides of my family no less) are ALL on a giant cruise together. And I am here. It is the trip of a lifetime. Some may argue, however, so is this.

So this is just one more struggle that I am faced with, and a little perseverance and several tears later, I will probably get over it. But being a girl, the emotions are currently winning, so I will go home and get my frustration out by putting on my headphones and making tortillas. I promise it's therapeutic.

I just wanted to get in one last blog before I pass out and die from exhaustion. This morning I gave my 8th grade classes their final test. Believe me when I say that to battle 30 students to no cheat, while answering a million questions at once is no easy task. You have to constantly be on alert. There is no honor system here, no moral stronghold that prevents a student from teaching. In short, this is not PCDS. Ok, I admit that the test was a little harder than last time. And a little longer. But I felt that these students were capable, and that we had reviewed in class and during lessons enough so if they had studied sufficiently, they would have done well. The key word here is study. They prefer, for some reason, to spend the majority of their time making cabula or a 'cheat sheet'. One guy even had his entire notebook opened on the floor. So now after just having given two tests in a row with my heightened alert, I feel like calapsing. So now I have to go home and grade all 60 tests before tomorrow morning at 7:30. I can't wait.

And I would take a shower, but our apartment building, and I think a lot of the town is currently without water. Yes, we ran out of water yesterday. So we can't wash the dishes, our hands (gross), oursleves, or flush the toilet (also gross). I have no idea when we are going to get any more water. I think it comes in on a truck from another town. But if there's a shortage, there's a shortage and there's not much you can do about that really. I've been brushing my teeth with our drinking water from our filter, but that's going to run out soon as well. Buying water is expensive, but if we don't get water soon, we're going to have to start doing that. At least just to brush my teeth!! Well I am off to grade tests, and more tests, and MORE TESTS!! This trimester is never going to end.

Up and down we go. Where we stop, I don't really know. My frustration reached (one of) its peak yesterday. We have had a telephone number and a contract that we paid good money for for over a week and a half now. We even managed to scrounge up a telephone and a cable because the extremely unhelpful really annoying man who works in the CV Telecom office just handed us a phone number and sort of expected us to go away. Being new at this, we didn't realize that the office in Praia had to unblock our number and that CV Telecom would actually provide us with a phone when they came to our house to make sure the line and signal worked. But no one came. So everyday for the past week we have been hiking up to the CV Telecom office (and believe me, the hill in the heat is no small feat) to demand that a technician come to our house to fix our phone line because we now had everything except for a dial tone. I told myself and Leland that I was going to walk into that office everyday until they sent one of only two technicians to our house (but this island does not have that many people on it, so two sometimes three technicians apparently is fine). I don't mind so much because it's the same office as the post office and I have been expecting packages from my family which are unusually late, but that's another story. So we go into the office again yesterday, and again I open my empty mailbox and feel the disappointment of no mail. We spotted the technician outside, who also happens to be one of Leland's old students. He talks to us for a little while (in my opinion mostly about nothing substantial) and he says that they second technician is in the North and that when he comes back he will come by our house. It was around 1pm at that time. So I knew what the guy said was a load of crap and I knew that he knew it was. Why can't people just tell the truth about that stuff? So as we were leaving, he asked us if we had a number he could contact us to let us know when the other technician would be arriving. Yeah, then I snapped a little. I had been mostly silent at this point, but when I heard him ask that question I turned to him and said (slightly louder than I probably should have): No! We don't have a contact number because we don't have a telephone because we have been waiting for you to come fix it! I think I caught myself in the middle and quieted down this small outrage before it could have a lasting effect. But I have managed to keep the Princess inside at bay thus far and yesterday she had had just about enough.

It's funny because you can't really yell at people like that here. There is no Better Business Bureau, no manager, no boss. If you make these people mad, they then don't really care about helping you because they don't really have anyone to answer to. It's kind of like the situation for a our furniture. We have been waiting over a month for shelves and a lock box we were told would take two weeks at the most. It's not that I have a problem waiting (well maybe I have a little problem waiting), but there is no need to lie about the length of time it takes to do something. My point is, however, that I cannot go to his boss or to the company and complain about their delinquent worker. The three carpenters who are building our furniture work in a small yard that has a couple of large tables and one large metal shipping container to hold all their supplies and wood. As a result, Leland and I are still living out of a suitcase. But we have mostly gotten used to that.

The frustrations of yesterday weren't helped by the fact that we found a cockroach in one of our cupboards where we keep our food the night before last. Sooo, needless to say, we sprayed some Raid and then went out for dinner. We did manage to find this really cute little restaurant that serves Gnocchi for about $4.00 and they have homemade delicious ice cream that costs about $1.00. Bonus. We were very excited about that. The good news is we now have a telephone. The technician came to our house today finally. Probably because we hiked up to the office again, and I demanded to speak to him or find out where he was before we left. So our phone is fixed, we have connection to the outside world after 6 weeks of no phone. And I have been assured by the carpenters, that for sure by Friday our stuff will be finished. But I could tell by the tone of his voice, the same tone the technician used yesterday, that he knew he was lying. So we will wait some more for our shelves because there is nothing else we can do about it. And I will continue my finger-crossing in hopes that my mother's packages make it. I justify their extreme lateness by the fact that there are actually more Cape Verdeans living outside this country than in it. So imagine an entire country's worth of people trying to send Christmas presents to their loved ones. In a country this small, that makes for a lot of mail.

Pictures from AIDS day: December 2nd, 2006 These are the students waiting outside the Youth Center for the events to start
And more waiting....

A soccer club doing a demonstration in the Praça
Shon on the left (Tony's son from another relationship) and little Peter on the right (Tony and Helena's son)
Leland finishing the race.
Some of my tenth graders. They're good kids.

The march from behind, getting started.
The march of high school students going through the town.

And it's Monday. The first day of the last week I actually have to teach anything this trimester. We have the last round of testing this week and then next week is spent doing Christmas activities. I have some American Christmas music I will be bringing in and teaching them. Basic stuff like Jingle Bells and Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. Maybe they'll be entertained. And if not, someone famous like Mariah Carey singing Oh Holy Night should at least pique their interest slightly.

I just wanted to take a moment and reflect. I feel as though I have completely settled into this life. I have a routine, I have a house I take care of, a job and friends. There are material things that I noticed I lacked, that I don't notice anymore. Things like Ziplock bags (luckly Leland brought some with him when he came and I had a few also, but we have since run out) How many times a day do you use a ziplock bag? They don't sell them here. Iceburg lettuce. How many times a week do you eat salad? I haven't eaten a proper salad in 6 months. Not that they sell Ranch or Caesar dressing here (but of course thank you Melanie and mommy for sending some). Television. Leland and I don't own a television. We could buy one if we wanted. But they are expensive, and except the occasional American movie or program, it's all silly soap operas from Brazil anyway. Microwave. How many times a day do you use that? I think you could buy that here too, but again, expensive and not many people have them. The shopping mall :) Everyone knows how much I loved my shopping. But these are all things I have learned not to love anymore. Things I no longer rely on. It's amazing how much stuff you can live without.

Hot water. Let's talk a little bit about the hot water. This is the exception. Something I don't think I can forget about. It is very cold outside. I wear long sleeves everyday to school, and in the evening I have to layer my clothes. Taking a shower in this place has since become a bigger pain in the rear. We have no shower curtain and the shower head is hand-held. It's basically a shower base that we stand in in the middle of the bathroom. So needless to say, water inevitabley gets all over the bathroom floor. And we don't have hot water. The cold water showers used to come as a relief after the very hot and dusty days. But now that it's cold outside, let me just tell you how miserable the cold showers are when you are already cold. So I just don't shower very often now. I know that's gross sounding. But I figure that I am also conserving water. Showering is an effort and takes mental preparation and planning because it's cold and miserable, and the bathroom gets completely covered in water afterwords. So the showering isn't done as frequently as normal.

Other than that, I had a very slow weekend. I mostly stayed inside and read. Leland went to Mazurka Saturday night and said it was about the same as last time. I just wasn't up for going. I went to the market this morning (early Monday mornings are always the best time to go) and Tony's aunt was there. She said she and some other ladies come up from the North on Monday mornings to sell what they have grown in their vegetable garden. Which isn't much. Usually watermelon, cucumbers, tiny carrots, and very large squash. Today they had kale, which is a type of lettuce, bitter like romain but very leafy. But I buy what I can from her and her friends, because anything else that they don't sell, I go ahead and buy from my main lady who always has everything else, Luz. She imports other fruits like oranges, apples, and bananas, and occassionally pears and grapes. She has all the basic other veggies like potatoes, onions, peppers, garlic, eggplant, and tomatoes.

So that is all, I will try and post some photos of our AIDS day this evening. Are you guys excited for the cruise yet? :)

So I have seen my first glimpses of Christmas. It's funny, because I keep forgetting that Christmas is just around the corner. People have begun to put lights in their windows. And they are amazed when I tell them that houses in the US have competitions with lights and decorations and put little miniature Nativity scenes and Santas with reindeer on their roofs and in their yards. I get wide eyed reactions when I tell them about the grandiose displays of Christmas joy and how everyone seems to be in on it whether Christian or not. And the stores with their sales and discounts and lines...ok I've already lamented about the lines. So anyway, I got a little excited when I saw the lights in the windows. Here for Christmas, people do put lights up. They do have Christmas trees as well. Not real ones, obviously, but you can purchase little fake ones from the Chinese Loja.

Sidebar: almost all towns have a little shop that is run by immigrant Chinese people. These shops generally carry really bizzarre and random items that are usually fairly cheap. Things like plates, other kitchen items, clothes lines, mirrors, and random clothes. We buy all our tupperware and plates and stuff there. They don't, however, carry anything Chinese, or east-Asian at all, like soy sauce or Ramen noodles. When I first walked into the Chinese Loja, that's what I thought would be in there. Boy was I dissappointed.

Anyway, Christmas. Helena has offered to lend us her little small tree, as she says she wants Tony to get them a large one this year. So who knows, maybe we will have a little Christmas cheer in our apartment this year. A group of our volunteer friends from another island will be coming down for Christmas, so it will be nice to have some friends for the holiday. We will lie on the beach and sunbathe.

Although, I must say that it has been getting quite cool here lately. I mean, nothing freezing, but I actually had to wear a sweatshirt to class today!! It has been cloudy and very windy, which doesn't help the dust situation; but the combination of the clouds and wind make for a very chilly day.

So next week I give out my final round of tests, and I have decided to make them difficult and cummilative of the whole trimester. It's not that I want them to fail, but if they aren't going to listen, then it's really their own fault. Two weeks left in the trimester, and can you tell I'm excited??

So I got punched in the head last week by one of my students. I thought I would start off this blog with a fun little catch line like that. But I'm not joking. So my crazy 8C class has just been escalating (see below for photos). They have been getting crazier and crazier as the trimester comes to a close (we have less than three weeks!) Last week, I put them into groups for some group work. I almost never let them choose their own groups, as this inevitably ends in chaos and some kids getting left out. Well this time, I chose their groups, but I clearly did it wrong. A girl and a boy were placed together that just could not seem to get along. They were bantering back and forth for a little while and I tried to control them. I should have taken the hint and switched one of them into another group. Well next thing I know I look up and the girl has reached across the table and punched the boy in the face. So he reaches back across the table and proceeds to choke her. Another (rather large, 17-year old) boy gets up and takes boy 1 and throws him across the tables, and then proceeds to choke him. By this time, my legs have started to function again, so I go and stupidly stand in front of the girl facing the boys. As boy 1 gets up and starts to come at the girl (and me as well now) the girl takes a swing at him, misses and hits me instead. Yeah that was nice. So I yell at the girl to get out of the classroom, and large boy carries boy 1 out of the classroom and the four of us walk to the director's office. So boy 1 and girl have now been suspended. Later I found out that another boy in the same class was suspended the same day for bringing a knife to school and threatening another girl with it (this boy by the way is the chefe de tourma or class delegate type person). This place is going absolutely crazy. But the trimester is almost over, not that I am counting down the days or anything.

On a separate note, our AIDS race went pretty well. A lot of people came, there were a lot of activities that were planned. World AIDS day was actually on Friday, but because of work and school and such, all the events were held on Saturday. We had different athletic groups perform various skills, there was a DJ there who played music. The students from the high school marched around the town, and then there was our 5k. I think we had about 15 runners. Not too many, but enough for people to cheer when they all came to the finish line. No women runners. Apparently women aren't usually thought of as runners. It's times like that where I wish I could run 5k. To be the only girl in the race would be kinda cool, and show them that woman actually can run. But alas, I am no runner, never have been, so I took position of event photographer (And I hope to post those photos soon). But all in all a good day, fairly successful and the weather was not too bad either.

And finally I would just like to say that I successfully made chicken curry this weekend that was delicious if I do say so myself. I even hand made the chipatis (not too different from tortillas). Thank you Auntie Muneera for the recipe, and mommy for the spices. My next cooking conquest is bread. I am determined to make some good bread for croissants or cinnamon rolls or something. Well that is all for now, I hope everyone had a good weekend.

So today is December 1st. "It's coming on Christmas, they're cutting down trees..." How are those lines at the Gap? The full shopping malls and oh the traffic? It's things like that I absolutely DO NOT miss. I remember just before I left to come here my mother and I were standing in an unorganized line at the Gap. I was so frustrated with the lack of attention to how things were being run I actually said to my mother "I hate this place, this country. I can't wait to get out of here. Be in a place where there will be no lines anywhere." Yes it may be hard to be in a foreign country where they don't speak my language and it's dusty, etc. But I don't have to sit in traffic everyday, stop listening to the radio because they play crap Christmas music, look for a parking space, wait in line 30 minutes for a cheeseburger (mmm cheeseburgers....) or fight the mean lady in the store for the last shirt that's 25% off the original price. Oh thank goodness for small favors. It's interesting, because I haven't heard a breath about Christmas here. And I am in a Christian country. But there are no commercials, no signs, no rediculous advertisments, nothing. I find that in a country like this that doesn't have that much to begin with, can't have that much to give away either. Gift giving doesn't strike me as something that is as widely done as in America or Europe. Which leads me to the fascinating observations on socio-economic situations here in Sal Rei, Boa Vista.

There is a distinction between the classes here, something I had yet to really see here in Cape Verde. I guess it shouldn't surprise me, what with all the tourism and such. But I have noticed that it breaks down like this: first there are the Italian migrants, who have come to live here and brought with them European money that stretches very far. They have opened up hotels, retaurants and other tourist attractions and are living very well on money brought in from outside, as well as the money earned from European tourists. The next level are Cape Verdeans who work for the government. People like Paolo who can afford to take two people out to lobster and steak dinners (sidebar: yes he took us out again last night and I ate my first steak in 6 months. It was another bizarre experience but not really the point here). They are the elite Cape Verdeans, able to live comfortably and especially on an island which offers the finer things in life, they can indulge once in a while. The next level I would estimate to be the store owners, teachers, and people like Leland's counter part Iva, who runs all the Youth Centers on the islands. The teachers in thic country get paid remarkably well, as it is a sort of status to have completed enough education to be able to teach. It requires a college teaching degree available here at the institutes of higher education on two other islands. Iva, as well as my counterpart and the director of the high school Denise, have both received their educations in Portugal and have come back to jobs that are slightly above the teachers and store owners, but in the same general category. Next, are the slightly poorer Cape Verdeans. The people who are manual laborers. Our maid, for example, or the fisherman. This category also includes the women who are vendors at the market. Some of them come from the North and have little vegetable gardens from which they bring small items to sell. Others have managed to find a way to import other fruits and vegetables, such as oranges and grapes. The final category is (like so many countries, the US included) the immigrant workers. I was surprised to see how many people come from West Africa to work here. They work in odd little construction jobs when they can. It is a fairly good market for that here because of all the tourism and other construction that is going on here at the moment. They all seem to live in an area that is slightly inland of Sal Rei, and looks like (for lack of a better term) the ghetto. It truely is tough living in those parts. You can always tell who has migrated from the continent. They are much darker in color, and look stereotypically African. We have noticed that Cape Verdeans themselves are actually fairly light. You can tell there has long been a European mix in the gene pool. Anyway, so as Peace Corps volunteers, we have found ourselves on the slightly higher end of the food chain as people who would actually be getting paid in our position would be doing quite well. We live off of about $350-$400 a month, which does not sound like much to you I am sure. But things here are relatively cheap. But now you know why I have not spent $15 on a steak myself (that's almost a weeks worth of groceries!!), and probably never will while I am here. This money is used to pay for our utilities each month (gas, water, electric) and food mostly. We spend about $20-30 at the grocery store and market per week. So it is plenty for us to live on here. We struggle a little at the end of the period, but who doesn't? And we are still paying for large items such as furniature and the like. So after all the settling-in is done, we should be fairly steady.

So there's a little idea of the financial life a Peace Corps volunteer. Happy shopping :)

Weekend was interesting. Sometimes we have those, other times it's just basically sit around and read or watch some DVDs. But this weekend we actually had some things to do. Ok, background info: the Camara is the local governing body here, and each zone has one. On the island of Santiago, there are several Camaras because there are several zones. I am not sure how they split the zones on each island, but it has to do with general population I think. Think of the zones as similar to counties. Boa Vista (my island) only has one Camara because the population here is so small and there aren't very many towns other than Vila, where I live. The Camara functions similar to a state-run government system. There is a president of every Camara and his position is somewhat similar to the mayor of different towns in the US. Here where there is only one Camara, however, the president's position is similar to that of the governor of the state, as his governing body pretty much runs this whole island and all 4,000 people on it. Yes, there are only 4,000 people on this whole island.

Anyway, most community development volunteers work closely with the local Camaras as they are able to get funding and provide the most help through this governing body. Leland's job is an exception, he works mostly through and at the Youth Center, but the two are very closely connected. So we know a lot of people in the Camara. One person who has been friendly and very helpful to us since we got here works for the Camara and his project/job is to do a complete overhaul of all the Youth Centers on the island. His name is Paolo. There is a Youth Center in almost every town. So here, that's about 5, plus two that are currently being built in other small towns. So needless to say, we see him a lot. Friday night he invited Leland and me to dinner (as he was at the dinner party we threw at our house). We went out to a very nice restaurant which was a little bit of a treat for us. Ever since we moved out of the hotel, we don't go out to eat ever because it's so expensive. Paolo is the sort of person who is in control of every situation. Not in a bad way, but in that protective-I-want-everything-to-be-right-for-you type of way. So he order our dinners for us, which ended up being lobster. First time Leland and I had lobster on this island and it was very good. He apparently got too impatient waiting for me to take all the meat out of my lobster, so he ended up deshelling it all and placing it back on my plate. If I hadn't been three glasses of wine in by that time, I would have been a little grossed out. After dinner we went to a rooftop restaurant where there was a band playing (the only band here, they play everywhere) and the President of the Camara was there. Paolo knew and greeted everyone. But the President's situation made me laugh a little. He was sitting at a fairly long table and on his right there were three pretty young Italian (aka white) women sitting and on his left were thuggish looking African men (aka body guard type people). I had to have a giggle about this because it just made me realize that no matter where you are, people in governmental power are all the same (or you can draw your own conclusions here :). Anyway we went to another bar after that where Paolo told me that his marriage and therefore his life was in trouble because of me. I laughed it off like I laugh off every ridiculous attempt to hit on me and am now avoiding him for a little while as per what I have found to be the best method. So that was fun.

Saturday night Leland and I went to Mazurka, the only discotequa on the island. This is only the second time we've been there because the place doesn't open until midnight and that's simply just too late for me anyway. So I stayed up, and we went. And it was nuts. Have you ever seen the second Matrix movie (I think it's the second one) where they're in that underground city and there's this techno-rave like dance going on? Yeah this is what that place was like. Techno pounding, which is quite irritating dance music and people just grinding and sweating on the dance floor. My favorite however, was the big bus that brought all the tourists (young and old!) who are staying in one of the nicest resorts here in town called the Marine Club. They have their own bus, I thought it was funny. We were there until about 4am, but it was fun.

On a separate note, I dreamt about my sister last night. I miss everyone very much, don't get me wrong. And some days are worse than others. But if you had to ask me who the one person was I missed the most, my answer would immediately be Natasha. So needless to say, after the dream, I woke up a little depressed and missed her more than ever. Anyway, this week will be focused on AIDS as December 1st is World AIDS day, and this Saturday is our race. So that's all for now, happy Monday!

Another week has gone by, and we are but four weeks away from the end of the trimester. Four weeks away from the end of the first third of the school year. I cannot believe how time has passed.

I particulary feared for yesterday to come, as it was Thanksgiving and the first time in my entire life I was not going to be spending it at home with my family. I have been without a phone for the past three weeks, and therefore have not been able to speak to them either which has caused me more pain than I initially realized. But between Leland and I we managed to have a very good day yesterday, considering the circumstances. Leland was able to solve my phone situation, bless him, and I was able to talk to my family through the internet of all things with a headpiece at a very reasonable price. This was such a blessing to me. It was so good to hear my family's voices and on a day that had meant so much to me as a symbol of familial unity.

Well Leland and I bought our halves of a chicken each, marinated them the way we each wanted and baked them. Let me just take a moment to tell you about our stove/oven. It is gas, which on the stove is no real problem for me; I am used to this, although the lowest setting on the dial is not acutally low, but a high-medium temperature which makes simmering stuff very difficult. But a gas oven with the flame actually inside is something very new to me. It makes cooking slightly difficult because so much heat comes from the bottom of the oven where the flames are and might I say, slightly exposed in some areas as is normal I guess. Also, the lowest setting on the oven is 180 degrees Centigrade, which is just under, I beileve, 375 F. Which is rediculous in itself. So the fitted pan I used in my attempt to make roast potatoes which weren't all that bad, but they were far from the quality of my mother's and therefore MILES from the quality of my grandmother's. But hey, I tried. So after I finished the roast potatoes, I decided to place the chicken on a piece of foil and then on the fitted rack. I figured that becuase the bottom of pans get so hot, I didn't want the bottom of the chicken to stick to the pan it was on, so the logical choice was tin foil. Hind sight, as they say, is 20/20. My intentions were good, but had I been thinking all the way through the business, I would have cleaned the fitted pan that the roast potatoes had been in, and placed that under the tin foil contraption. But I didn't. When Leland came back from teaching his class the chicken had just been placed in the oven and everything was going fine until we heard the little drips of chicken fat sliding off the tin foil and sizzling on the bottom of the oven. It wasn't long until so much fat had dripped off that it was now on the verge of lighting on fire from the flames below. And then it did light on fire, and there was a very pretty image through the little window of our oven. But that's where the fun stopped as we didn't really want to get blown up, nor burn down our entire apartment building as that would have been MOST inconvenient! But the chicken was done anyway, so the oven (after the fire display) was immediately turned off and we enjoyed our large pices of chicken with mashed potatoes, roast potatoes, corn and gravy. Leland and I treated ourselves to some fruit at the market so we had grapes and watermelon for dessert, along with the chocolate chip cookies I was able to make thanks to my dear mother :)

Speaking of chocolate chip cookies, no one really has those here and the package of mix I had made 2 dozen which Leland and I don't at all need to eat so I decided to take a dozen to my 11th grade class yesterday. I have only twelve students so it was perfect. The grammar lesson was the passive voice and as that is used in writing recipes, I looked up the actual recipe for chocolate chip cookies online (as the mix I had been sent would not suffice as an ingredient they could actually get here) and I served the cookies while teaching them the recipe at the same time. They loved the cookies and seemed stunned when I told them I baked them myself. Of course I didn't tell them that I had a lot of help from Betty Crocker and that the recipe I was giving them and they were eagerly writing down wasn't exactly the cookies I had served them. But it's all good, and I was happy that they enjoyed them just the same.

Anyway, that was my exciting day yesterday that was more pleasant than I had originally feared, which made it all the more enjoyable. The only sadness brought to the day was the passing of a very dear, but very sick aunt. I am sorry for mine and my family's loss and that it was experienced on a day of such usual joy and familial happiness. She will be missed, and it is now best to look back on the days we spent with her, especially the entire of last summer that she spent with my family in Phoenix. She was there when I left to come here and we enjoyed her company greatly. But she is now at peace.

Bom fin de semana nha gente :)

There is a saying here: N ka ten forca. It literally means "I don't have the strength." I have come to understand that it actually implies something along the lines of "I don't feel like it" or "I don't have the energy to do this." My physical strength has been waning this past week, though I have not been able to attribute it to anything in particular. I have not been able to get through the day without a lengthy nap, which is odd considering that I sleep very well most nights. I am fatigued, and while my metal strength seems as strong as ever, it had appeared as though I had little to blame on my downward motion of my physical state of being. It has perplexed my mind these past few days which has led me to contimplate its origins. While I have long since been the most fit person in my family, I believe that my endurance here is stronger than it has been in a while. I walk everywhere, and when calculated out, it tends to be about an hour's worth of walk a day. And the weekends are not without the occassional swim in the ocean.

My next thought went to the heat. It is still scortching hot here, and I spend most of my day sweating. But being an Arizona girl, this doesn't concern me much either. As to the sweating, I thought I might be a victim of dehydration, but Leland and I find that we have to fill up our 7 liter water filter almost every day to keep up with out water consumption. We are rarely without our trusty Nalgene bottles :)

After this I considered the food, and that I was perhaps malnourished. But how could it be so? The food may be plain, but I rarely find that I lack one of the major food groups (except fruit because it's so darn expensive, but I eat a lot of jam which I figure makes up for almost none of it, but hey what can you do?). I try and and eat as many different colors of vegetables as possible and make a conscious effort to take my vitamins. So that can't be it.

And then it dawned on me. While my physical strength is down, it is merely a symptom of my underlying problem: emotional endurance. I am leading a completely solitary life. I have no friends, no family, no one (besides Leland, not to undermine his valuable position as roomate) to share my current state of life with. When the Peace Corps tells you to prepare to be lonely, they don't mean physically lonely; I clearly misunderstood. They mean emotionally. Having grown up in a very tight knit family, they were always there for me, and I rarely lacked a large amount of friends to pad my support system. But now I am here on my own, and on today of all days I am feeling it most. My eighth graders today did not understand what Thanksgiving was and had heard little of the holiday itself. But when I explained to them that during this large scale holiday families in America gather in a way similar (if not more so) to Christmas, they immediately understood that I "fika triste hoje" (that I am sad today) and why I did not have the strength and usual vivacity in class. It is the first time I have ever been separated from my family on this grand holiday. And while I have not cried yet (go me!) I know that emotionally, I am drained and this solitary life is starting to take its toll.

Leland and I are cooking two halves of a chicken today, as we cannot buy a whole chicken, let alone a whole turkey on this island. We have decided also to make mashed potatoes and, at my insistance, roast potates. Thanks to my mother, we have a plethura of gravy and we will make some sweet corn. And for dessert, choclate chip cookes (also, thank you mom) Small scale, but it is just the two of us Americans (besides some crazy old guy somewhere we keep hearing about) so there is no point to go crazy. My emotions I know will pick up, for there is nothing left to do but accept and move on. Which is what I am resigned to do and my will power will just have to overcome my current state of emotions or I will never survive. But I am determined to, so I take this as any other day and continue in the current life I have chosen.

Happy Thanksgiving to all, and know that you truely all have something to be thankful for, myself included (ok I ended cheesy I know sorry).

PS. it must be a sign, but the American guy just walked into the Youth Center where I am sitting writing this, and he really does look a little crazy, ha:)

Another week going by. They are progressing more and more rapidly all the time. I am now in my 7th week of teaching, I have been doing it for almost 2 months! My goodness. Well there is nothing too much to report, only that our AIDS race is progressing quite well and Leland and I were both surprised at how quickly and adeptly the leaders of the Youth Center and local government got behind us. Which is excellent that they have sort of taken this thing and run with it (ha no pun intended). In our training, it was encouraged that we include various Community Content Based Instruction (or CCBI) in our lessons. This means that while teaching grammar, include something that would benefit the children's minds of maintaining a healthy and organized society. AIDS, for example, is a CCBI topic. This week, however, I have devoted to keeping the school clean. One of Helena's 11th grade classes is very concerned with the trash dumping at our school. It is true. We have a cantina at the school, a type of cafeteria where the children can go in between classes and get a little snack. The children are only class half a day, so there is no formal cafeteria like many American schools. 7th, 8th, and 9th grade go to school from 7:30am to 12:30 pm, while the older three grades are there from 2pm-7pm. This is done because there is not enough space in the school to teach all the children at once.

Anyway, about the trash. This week, my 8th grade students are making posters in English about cleaning up our school. They LOVE to draw and do artistic things, so this seemed like a good idea. They put so much care and effort into it, it's unbelievable. I will post the posters in the window when they are done, and hopefully take a picture so you all can see my little darlings and their artistic talents :) Next week I will focus on AIDS as it is leading up to December 1st, World AIDS day.

Speaking of drawing, I have enrolled myself into an art class that is offered here at the Youth Center. I have never taken an art class by choice in my entire life. And to take one that is not taught in my native language proved to a bit of a challenge during the first class last night. But it gives me something to do in the evenings, and to express my creative side, however small it may be, is something I feel I could enjoy. Plus it gives me a chance to completely immerse myself in the language and I am forced to understand. Although next time, I will bring a dictionary with me. So that's all for now, not that interesting. Sorry. Hope to have some crazy story next time, but for now it's just me and a simple life :)

I know it has been a little while. The truth is, I haven't felt that I have had much to write about. My life here has become exactly that: a life. Anything I do here doesn't seem out of the ordinary because to me, it no longer is. Everyday has become a routine and it seems I have adapted fully to this way of life. My mentality has accepted that this is my life, this is the way it is and so I have stop questioning what happens to me on a daily basis. To me, it is just another day. Adaptation is such a wonderous thing really.

Last week I gave my students their first test. And their abilitites to adapt to the art of cheating astound me. They spend so much time and effort cheating that it is a wonder they don't use these creative skills to study. This is usually a comment that many a teacher makes, but it's true! I was never a serious cheater in all my years of school, and the lengths that these children will go to is amazing. They sit in desks of two, so it is very easy to copy off your neighbor. So I thought I would be tricky and make up two different tests. In essence two different tests for each table. And when they received the test back with some answers marked wrong because they were the answers of their neighbors questions, they still didn't understand why I had marked them wrong even though they had written the exact same thing as their neighbor. It's funny. But I have found that sometimes the common sense is just plain lacking.

So my weeks are pretty regular now. I go to the market on Monday mornings usually after my first class, so around 8:30. It's the best time to go as the vegetables are often fresher and they have more of a selection. I usually buy from one woman named Luz. There are about 6 or 7 vendors in the little marketplace but she usually has the most selection and fresher looking veggies. You can get pretty much everything here. I usually buy carrots and cucumbers because they make a wonderful snack especially now that I have been given the gift of ranch dressing (thank you Melanie, and mom of course). But you can get squash, zucchini, eggplant, potatoes, just about everything. I usually don't buy those veggies unless I know we will cook with them in the next couple of days. Things tend to spoil quickly. We always have onions, garlic, and green peppers in the house; Leland is a big fan of all and they cook well in things like BBQ sauce (yes we make our own because you can't buy it) and spaggetti sauce. We buy fruit very rarely because it's so expensive. It costs about $5 a kilo, which turns out to be like 2 or 3 oranges. That might not seem like a lot to you, but that same amount of money can also buy me a kilo of carrots, half a kilo of onions and garlic, and six eggs. Soooo, needless to say, fruit is something of a luxury. Going back to the BBQ sauce, we usually make a big batch of it and then use it for making a large batch of shredded BBQ chicken. This goes great on sandwiches, or in a quesadilla. I make tortillas about once a week. It takes about a half hour and they are so good and last about a week or so. Cheese is something that is readily available here, we even have parmesan! It is expensive, so we only buy it occassionally. There is a lot of pasta as Italians are a plenty here as well. For dessert I have perfected the art of making fudge, although the last batch I made for some reason will not freeze, so we have taken to just scooping it out and eating it like ice cream :)

Last night Leland and I made pizza and invited Helena and Tony over along with their two kids. The pizza came out quite nicely, considering Leland had to hand make the dough and I the sauce. But with the BBQ chicken on top, it was delicious :) So food is no trouble here. And we have become creative in the ways that we buy and cook food. We have tried to stop keeping left overs here, as nothing has any kind of preservative in it and things tend to go bad quickly, even if they are put in the fridge. We hand make a lot of stuff that can last such as tortillas, bread, fudge, BBQ chicken as this makes our lives a little easier since it is so much effort to prepare a meal. Also we have hired an empregada or a maid. The Peace Corps allowance allows for this and I figure that cleaning has not always been a favorite of mine to do, and the money PC gives me isn't really mine to begin with, so I might as well give it to a woman who can do the job better and needs the money more than I do. But the way, she will also be doing our laundry. Nice. Now that we don't have a machine in this apartment, we would have had to hand wash it. No thanks. Anyway, this blog dragged on longer than I thought, I am sorry if you were bored about all that food stuff. But things are going well, we are just waiting for the carpenter to finish our furniature (there is no local Ikea of course) and things will be just lovely! Hope you are all well.

It happens to every Peace Corps volunteer some time in their service. They consider leaving. I in NO WAY plan to leave here. But these types of thoughts have been circulating in my mind. When I signed up for this, not one single person actually believed me. No one thought I could do it. Not one. I have a tendency to quit things and so I can understand where my family's doubts lay. Also, as my nickname has long been "princess" and I often live up to the word, I could see how my friends didn't believe me. But I have no plans on leaving, I could never do that to my students. Plus proving everyone I know wrong has a sort of bittersweet satisfaction to it. But that's not to say that thoughts of leaving haven't crossed my mind in the past three days.

Our group of 33 has now lost 2 and I can see why they say that Cape Verde has the highest Early Termination rate in all of West Africa. What this means is that more people choose to quit the Peace Corps early in this country than all of the PC countries in West Africa, including Senegal, Mauritania, and other countries that I could see being slightly harder than this one. But it's not just about being hard. The first person to ET (early terminate) from our group didn't leave because it was hard. He left because he didn't feel that this was the appropriate place for him. The work he was doing was something he could be doing anywhere. He was working with youth, something that this place does need but in his eyes, it was something that wasn't extraordinarily necessary. What I am trying to say, is that for him, maybe it was because this place is normally very easy to live in that he felt he was not needed. His efforts could be spent in a similar situation in the United States, where working with troubled youth is also a much-needed effort. As a teacher, my duties are fairly clear. For me, however, my thoughts have drifted from my work.

Leland and I moved into our new apartment on Monday. And we have not showered since. To be sure, an apartment with four walls and a ceiling is far better than the mud-style hut I envisioned myself living in when I signed up for this gig. But I have learned in the past three days that my new motto is "patience is an incredible virtue." Our bathroom was completely empty. It didn't even have tiling. No shower, toilet or anything. I wish I had taken a picture. Our kitchen was not usable either, as the guy had not finished painting any of the house, including the kitchen and both our bedrooms. So Monday evening we went out to dinner, and I accidentally left my ATM card in the machine. Lovely. The first night we spent in our new apartment was hot, sticky, and full of mosquitoes. Also, the lovely dog chorus that lives just outside our window loves to put on concerts in the middle of the night. Did I mention we have a cockroach problem? Yesterday and Monday were spent purchasing items for our house. Things we haven't yet needed like pots, pans, plates, fans, etc. All while both of us have full time jobs. What bothers us most is that this isn't something we should have had to worry about at this point in our service. The Peace Corps should have secured us a permanent house before we got here, so we could have spent our initial week when I didn't have school doing all of the household errands. As it is, Leland and I have wasted two and a half hours today just trying to get a phone number in our house. We now have it, but we are waiting for the guy to come hook it up. It's a good thing the hook up guys is one of Leland's students. The phone line is all the more important now because my cell phone ran out of batteries yesterday, switched itself off, and has now refused to turn back on. So, we have no contact to outside world (minus of course the internet which I love to spend my time on, lucky me I know).

Our frustration reached its peak yesterday evening when the bathroom still hadn't been complete and we still couldn't cook. In the past three days, I have probably cried more than I have slept. Luckily they have finished the bathroom today and we can finally shower and pee. Things are beginning to look up again I guess. We just need to buy some bug spray and we'll be set. More or less. So we continue the struggle, the past few days have been the hardest. But things can only go up from here, right?

Well, I am officially exhausted. Completely. I might have dozed off waiting for this web page to load. And I am sure that I have one eye open and one eye closed :) Of course I can't confirm that because I no longer have a mirror. Today was our moving day. Again. But we have finally moved (mostly just our stuff) into our new apartment. Along with about 6-7 workers. My favorite is the guy painting my bedroom walls as we speak. Or the two guys tiling the bathroom (that does not yet have a shower), one with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Yes, the place is incomplete and all of my belongings are sitting on my bed so the man can finish painting the walls and then sweep out my room. We can't set up the fridge or stove because he's just paiting the kitchen as well, so we find ourselves scrounging for cheap retaurant food. Did I mention I can't wait to wake up high tomorrow from the paint fumes? So, yes I have rambled on a little bit about how my life is a little difficult at the moment, and when put in perspective, it's really not all that bad. But this moving business probably could not have come at a WORSE TIME! My classes are ok, and this week is a little easier for me because it's testing time. So I don't really have to lesson plan, just make up review excercises for them to practice. Then grade the tests and go over them in class. So as far as school goes, it's not so bad. But planning this race thing and all that is stressful. We only have 3 more weeks to get everything planned out and ready. And why does that feel like such a short amount of time?

On a sidebar, I kicked two students out of my class today for the first time (not counting the time I dragged that other girl out of class. I didn't really kick her out so much as take her myself). They were both boys in my eight grade class, one 16 and the other 17 (do you remember how old you were in eighth grade? I'm pretty sure it wasn't 17...yeah). The 17 year old causes problems a lot, so today he created a ruckus with the boy he was sitting with. He was messing with the girl who sits in front of them. She stood up in the middle of me talking to class (I would have loved to see the astonished expression on my face) and came to the front of the class and in front of everyone told me quite loudly what the boys were doing. Well I had had just about enough of those boys anyway. So I walked down the aisle and in plain English simply said "Get Out." I hope I didn't look as nervous as I felt about it. Marco (the 17 year old) argued for a few seconds but when I turned my back to walk back to the front he and the other boy grabbed their things and walked out. The class then proceeded to applaude. Apperently I should have done this weeks ago. From what the other teachers told me afterwords, they will probably behave a little better in class now. Until the fear wears off of course and they go back to being obnoxious. So that was my fun story of the day.

In the more creative side of things, I have decided to make curtains for our house. We have curtain bars, but I don't actually think you can buy curtains. So I will make some. Wish me luck, this will be a first time thing for me. But how hard can they be? I'm excited about decorating my apartment. I love decorating. And I can start planting my little herb garden!! Yay. So tired and exhausted but happy and now in a permanent, smelly but painted, shower-less apartment. It's so very Peace Corps.

So the week has been mainly continuous, although it looks to be a busy weekend again for us as we will be moving....AGAIN. But this time it is to a permanent apartment, finally, which is nice, because I think we will feel at home finally. This will really be my home for the next two years or so. It has been 4 months almost to the date that I have seen my family, and that is about the longest I've ever gone not seeing them. So it's making me a little sad, but on the upside, things are finally starting to move along as far as our lives go.

World AIDS day is December 1st, and as we are in Africa, it is only appropriate to do a rather large event. There are several things that are done with the people of each of our islands: poetry contests, playwriting contests, races, etc. Well, we here on Boa Vista are doing a 5k race. Leland suggested that a 5k race would be a good thing to get the community involved, and it seemed perfect to do it on World AIDS day. So we have become co-chairs, so to speak. The community seems to be very in to it. I was surprised acutally, at the respose we got. Leland's counterpart at the Youth Center was very excited and has promised to put the weight of the Youth Center behind it. With the help of the PE teacher at my highschool, hopefully my students will be just as enthused. It is designed to be a race for all ages, as we will have booths and tables set up with information about AIDS. It will be our first large scale community project and Leland and I are pretty excited about. Hopefully things will continue to progess as they have been. After all, we have less than a month to prepare. So that is all for now, if you have suggestions or helpful input, we are always glad to hear it. I will let you all know how everything is progressing. Or if I'm pulling my hair out with frustration by December 1st.

On another note, I give my first test to my classes mext week. It's kind of like midterms for them right now. I'm a little nervous about it, I think I will be too easy. But what can you do? There are like 20 more tests to come, right?

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
It was an action-packed weekend folks. I learned a few things, that I am happy to say make me a better person all around :)

1. Contacts + dust + chalk + saltwater = Very red, itchy, and painful eyes. Glasses are my new best friend.
2. Why Mr. Martin threw chalk at his students. I often get this ridiculous urge to throw the piece of chalk I am holding at a student who is not paying attention. Of course I never do, as chalk is expensive and I don’t want to waste it, and I’m not sure if throwing stuff at the students is allowed. But every time I think about it, I think about Mr. Martin.
3. Even if the directors of the school promise the meeting will start on time, it won’t.
4. Afore mentioned meeting will go on for an unnecessarily long time (in fact I am currently in said meeting writing this fun list; don’t worry, I found out later I actually didn’t even need to be there).
5. The attention span for focusing on understanding a foreign language you only semi-understand is on average 7 minutes. When spoken in a meeting you weren’t really supposed to be at, this average reduces to about 3 minutes.
6. Playing with your cell phone, including taking photographs with sound effects and answering a call in the middle of the meeting is perfectly acceptable.
7. Boa Vistans are very proud of their music.
8. If you have a (relatively) famous Boa Vistan singing in an open forum, you will attract all of Boa Vista.
9. When both your eighth grade classes invite you to the beach at a specific time telling you that it is someone’s ‘birthday’, get suspicious.
10. When hosting a janta (dinner), if you invite 20 people, you may end up with 40 or 10. You never know. So always plan for 40. Leftovers are delicious anyway.
11. A janta is apparently the only thing that (unexpectedly) starts on time.
12. Nowhere in Boa Vista do they sell an oven dish in any way shape or form. Even if they say they do, they don’t. So using a metal serving tray is perfectly adequate.
13. Avoidance is the only way to get someone to stop asking to be your boyfriend.
14. You gain an incredible respect for sunscreen, and obsessively put it on three times a day when the “fungus” on your face has started to form little lighter colored spots and getting tanner only makes them more noticeable.
15. You hate the word “fungus.”
16. Your fellow drunk male teachers are just like any other drunk male colleague in a chauvinist society: they hardly say anything to you the entire seven weeks you have been working with them and then in one night manage to say to you the one thing that’s gonna make the next day at work VERY AKWARD.
17. Everyone shares everything. (And I mean everything).
18. If the evening temperature drops below 88˚ and there is a breeze, I suddenly miss my sweatpants and scarf.
19. The loofa and the washing machine may be the two greatest inventions on the planet. Followed closely by the KitKat bar.
20. Leland and I are too old and tired to wait for the discothèque to open at midnight. We tend to fall asleep waiting. Yes, we were all dressed up and ready to go.
21. Watching an animal be slaughtered, skinned, gutted, and then served up on your plate a few hours later is actually not as off-putting as originally thought (sorry, Tash).
22. Why Joao Galego and neighboring towns are called the Norte (North) even though they are not even remotely north of here, so much as they are directly east, and slightly south. Story goes that the first village that was built on this island (Curral Velho meaning old village) was on the southern part of this island. They then built the towns of Joao Galego and few others north of the original city. Sal Rei (where I live) wasn’t built until much later, so the term Norte refers to the towns being north of the first original village of Boa Vista.
23. Joao Galego is probably the coolest place on earth. But after lunch, if you try to help your hostess clear the plates, she will give you this look that she is so grateful she is about to cry, all the while laughing and slapping your hands telling you emphatically “no! no!” And you apologize not knowing if you’ve offended her or that she was a little touched that someone actually offered to help.

Like I said, action-packed. The busiest we have had so far. Leland and I are usually so exhausted from the week that we end up being grateful for the lazy Sunday. Friday night there was live music in the central square and all of Boa Vista was there. That night Leland and I managed to make it till 11:30 pm before we had to head home. The disco was out of the question for me as I have to teach class at 8:30 Saturday morning. Saturday night Leland and I decided to throw and dinner party, or rather just serve dinner to a few of our friends. So all day was spent cleaning house and preparing food. It was a fairly small affair but one that has snowballed into several other invitations to several other gatherings. So, all in all, well worth the effort. And we now have enchiladas to last us for a week. One of these invitations was to Joao Galego on Sunday. I have mentioned this town before as it is the town Leland and I almost moved to a few weeks back. One of my colleagues, Helena is from Portugal. Nine years ago she came down to Boa Vista on a Portuguese-sponsored teaching exchange. She now lives here permanently with her husband, Tony, and their son, Peter. She is probably one of the nicest people I have met here so far. Tony’s family lives in Joao Galego and they usually go down there on Sundays. This time, we were invited along. We went to the beach and then spent the rest of the day in the town hanging out and of course, watching the goat get slaughtered and gutted. Earlier at the beach, we watched the fisherman clean and gut a moray eel they had just caught. Tony bought a couple, then they were battered and friend for us a few hours later. It was actually very delicious. It almost has the texture of sea bass, as it is a very fatty fish. It was Tony’s aunt who refused help from me (see point 23). But it was definitely a weekend to remember. I only regret not taking my camera. Oh well, there is always next time!

Hi, ok. So I am starting to get this whole blog thing figured out with all the settings and stuff. I have changed the settings to allow people to comment who are not registered users. I should have done this earlier I know, but as I said I am just figuring this stuff out myself and it's confusing!! Anyway, so you DO NOT have to register or create an account to leave comments, you can leave an annonymous comment, but please PLEASE PLEASE sign your comment so I know who left it. Thank you, and sorry I didn't do this earlier.

MORE PHOTOS!! This is the old part of the school taken from the new part. Only 7th graders have class here
The new part where I teach. this is taken from the old part of the school. Don't ask me why they decided to build the new part of the school across a small desert. It's not quite finished. off to the left side, you can't really see, but there's more unfinished building.
The Youth center that Leland works at. This was taken from right outside the old part of the school. They are literally right across the street.
Inside the Youth Center. yes it's air conditioned and there are all brand new computers. Now you know why I spend so much time here. That's Leland in the background working. But it's a Cyber Cafe as well.

Hope you enjoyed!! I also put these and a little more on the Snapfish album that I just emailed everyone a while back. If you have an account you should be able to go and view the same album entitled "Cape Verde" and see the new photos. I think I added like 14 new ones. But I don't think I have to email you the link again. If I didn't email you the link last time but you would like to view all the pictures on Snapfish let me know and I can do that. You have to create an account, sorry about that I know it's a pain in the rear to do that. But for me it's the fastest and easiest way to upload all my new photos. Ok then, enjoy!!

My crazy 8C class
Girls reading the bingo numbers
Crazy 8C again (aka Spawns of Satan) Ha no they're not that bad
A little rowdy though...

My 8A class we are playing Bingo
Still 8A playing Bingo....for numbers practice
8A again
PHOTOS!!

Well, well where to start. I apologize for not having any pictures this time around. But I am going to take them tomorrow, so I hope to post them Friday. I have just finished reading The Kite Runner. And yes, it was good. My mother sent it to me in one of the many much appreciated packages that have arrived. As my entire family had read the novel (including my father!), and because I was sick in bed, I decided to give it a go. I usually have to prepare myself for books like this. They are no Jane Austen material (i.e. readable at just about anytime). And I have to say, it went as I expected. Heartbreaking, and an incredibly emotional story. I think I would have edited the book slightly differently, there were some rough spots grammatically but all in all it was a good book. And as a first time writer Khaled Hosseini does well. Now I sound like a book review.

Speaking of reviewing books, with time on my hands I was considering doing a type of book review of sorts. Many of you have heard me discuss the possibility of doing an intensive religious study. I have found that I have significant time on my hands these days. With classes going well, and our lives being placed comfortably in our new surroundings, I have found a type of idleness I am not used to. Training was so intense, we were kept constantly busy; and moving here, we hardly had time to think about any extra activities. But the dust has settled and I find myself looking for hobbies and other things to keep my interests. I think I have decided to delve into religion. Examining the three main religions of the world for their similarities and differences has long interested me. This is something I will not take on lightly. I understand that a religion is not simply based on it's main religious text. I also understand that without speaking the languages the texts were written in originally, I quite likely loose significant details and translations that may be crucial to understanding. But I am now physically in a place where I can conduct research with little interference.

The religion here is mostly Catholic. There are a few 7 Day Adventists and some Muslims sprinkled here and there. But unlike other countries, the people here practice their religion quietly. They go to church on Sunday, but it is never a question asked of someone. Maybe because they simply assume that everyone is Christian. But maybe it's that they just aren't as concerned as other populations. My point is that I am unlikely to be influenced by any people here. Or the blatant placements of religion in matters that are more or less unrelated. God is not mentioned anywhere on their currency, it is kept completely out of schools, and rarely do I see symbolic representations in their homes. This is a country that has religion, but it doesn't govern their lives or make excuses for their behavior the way it does elsewhere. And perhaps some may say this could be a reason for the rate of teen pregnancies. But I doubt the fear of God would change these children's minds about sex. Violence and crime is so low it's barely significant, and I doubt it's because the preacher told them that steeling is bad. (Don't get me wrong, there is crime here, theft being among the most common, but by no means as significant as one would expect of a supposed third world African country). It's an interesting dynamic, to have such widespread religion and yet so little vocalization about it. No one presses you, no one influences your religious beliefs, no one looks down upon you when you mention you are not Catholic. They shrug and say "oh." So I believe that I have found a good place to conduct my research, and I will begin here in the next few weeks, I hope.

But on my life in general, things have been going well, there is nothing much happening although I was just informed that Leland and I will be throwing a party at our house this weekend. A dinner party no less. Good to have a social event planned. Bad to have to clean up after it.

Well, it's been a good week. I know it's only Tuesday, but things are going well. As I mentioned before, Leland and I have found ourselves in a routine that is fitting an actual life style. Of course, that's all about to be turned up-side-down once we have to move again in a week and half, but for now, this is life. The Peace Corps staff were great when they were here over the past weekend and we were treated to several free meals, which is always a plus and even better that Leland and I know nearly every restaurant in town by now. I am continuing to make progress with my students, I hope. And today I had a tiny breakthrough with my 11th graders. As I am still having difficulty coming up with things to teach them, and on top of that creative ways to teach, coming up with something that they will actually enjoy proves a daily challenge. They are all only slightly younger than I am, one girl is 21 years old. She's older than Natasha. Scary thought. While I am still their teacher, I always get the feeling that they don't really respect me. They are young enough to still be my students, but too old to want to talk to me, or treat me like a person they can view as a type of friend. I do not want them to get too confortable with me by any means, but to feel free enough in the classroom to participate and have a good laugh, or something. Anyway, today I was teaching a rather mundane topic, the present continuous, when it dawned on me to try and play a game. I had played hangman with my eighth graders who are always up for some competition. But I just wanted my 11th graders to say something in class. Well it worked. There are only 12 of them, so I split them into two teams of six, and let them go at it. Competition is an inherent emotion ingrained in any human being. I guess I should have seen this before. Hangman is a surprisingly useful game as they learn to spell the vocabulary words at the same time as learning them. And you can focus it to whatever topic you are teaching at the time. For example, today we kept it to verbs translated in present coninuous. The more creative, the more your team wins (or rather forces the other team to lose). Great game, highly recommend it.

On another note, it was Eid yesterday so I tried my hand at cooking kababs. Keep in mind that I had no recipe nor had I made them before ever in my life. But considering I didn't have any cilantro, I think they came out quite nicely. We managed to find ground cumin which was incredible. So we will continue with the cooking experiements, as that seems to be a hobby I have found to occupy my time. I have found that cooking is one of my favorite things to do. And not as expensive as trying to get into windsurfing or snorkeling. I do have to say that our food supply is in no means meager. Our Medical Officer was here over the weekend and I took her to the outdoor market where I buy all our vegetables (fruit tends to be extremely expensive). She was amazed at the variety of veggies we had. She said we have more than on Santiago sometimes, or even Sal, another very touristy island. So cooking tends to be my occupation when not lesson planning or reading. If you have anything interesting you think I should try, let me know!!

Hello all.
Well I am, for almost the first time, sick. And of course who knows what it is exactly because It's a type of pain you can only experience when not lying in your really comfortable bed in PV, AZ :) The good news is, the entire Peace Corps staff is here, including the nurse, so in case I fall deathly ill, I won't have to go to the scary hospital-like structure in the town square. Of course, the nurse didn't bring her lab with her, so could do exactly nothing if I did fall deathly ill. Short of flying to Praia, there's absolutely nothing they can do for me. Which is funny. But, of course, I am NOT deathly ill nor do I plan on becoming deathly ill, so for now, it's just a little tummy discomfort and the occasional trip to the toilet for the upchuck reflex. I know you all wanted to know the dirty details.

Other than that, things are going quite well, actually. I think we have found our niche, which in six weeks on this island is quite exciting. My classes are starting to flow quite nicely (except for my 11th graders who could care less about anything) and I am feeling comfortable in the classroom. I have also made the leap to speaking Portuguese and no Creole in the classroom. If you think about it, it makes sense as Creole isn't really a grammatically translatable language. In fact, it hardly has any grammar structure. So for a translatable language when teaching English, Portuguese is essential. Or at least it has grammatical structure. It also helps me with my language skills. But Yonis, my boss, observed one of my classes and said I am doing very well, that he likes the direction I am taking with my students. Or something like that. Yonis is a complicated man. But funny.

Anyway, I am sorry this blog is short and disjointed, but my head is fuzzy and looking at a computer screen doesn't help. I am going to try and take photos of my school, students, the town, pretty much everything next week and I will post them here when I can. If there is anything in particular you want me to take a picture of, let me know and I would be happy to. We are now almost in full tourist swing, but I think I have been around long enough for people to know that I am not a tourist obnoxiously snapping my camera at the little African kids. Anyway, all is good, despite my intestines, and I hope to have pictures next time!!

So now that my school year is wrapping up its third week, I thought I would take a moment to reflect on the students here. After having talked to my fellow TEFL volunteers around the island, I have learned that we have all come to experience nearly the same things in all of our classes, regardless of age or level.

Let's begin with the fighting. Now, most of you know what my education was like in the US, fairly sheltered and bubble-like. I can't pretend to know what it was like in any inner-city school in the heart of Chicago or in the Bronx or someplace like that. So, while my comparisons may be a little off center, what goes on here is still sometimes appalling. Having the consensus of my fellow volunteers doesn't give much weight to the situation either as we all have similar, well-educated backgrounds. Anyway. I teach two 8th grade classes, both with about 30 students in it. And one would be surprised in the complete and utter difference in behavior between the two classes. My 8A class is wonderful, and the children in it are often well-behaved and somewhat eager to learn. Class time with them is usually easy and I look forward to it, because they like to have fun and learn at the same time. My 8C class, however, I have come to nickname the Spawns of Satan. While for some reason they seem to pick up the material faster, they are rowdy and defiant and I spend a lot of class time getting them to quiet down (which balances out quite nicely as they get through the lesson faster). But just the other day, I had to literally break up a fight between one girl (a tough-looking girl I might add) and a boy who sits three rows in front of her. Apparently this argument had begun in the class before and I was told by some of the students that if they continued, that I was to kick them out of class. Oh my God, I thought. Kick someone out of class?!!?! Well, I thought I would be a little lenient and let them argue it out a little more. My God was that a mistake. The girl got up from her chair and launched her self at the boy all the while they are screaming at each other, and of course I can't understand a damn thing. So I go to step in between before she can get to him, almost getting smacked in the process, and I calmly (as I can) half carry her out of the classroom. She is about my height and probably twice as strong as I am, by the way. Well, once outside, she continued to yell into the window until she kicked the wall and walked away. So that put a little spice in the week.

But my experience is not unusual. Stephanie on Maio had to fill out a disciplinary form the other day because one of her students yelled an obscenity he no doubt picked up from a 50 Cent song and yelled it at an innocent girl. She's also had to deal with one student trying to stab another with a broken shard of glass. My friend Jon on São Nicolou also witnessed a group of students chasing one kid who turned around and threw a dead stiff puppy at the group who was chasing him. Ew.

So as I continue my daily life here, it usually interests me to see what will happen next. As we are now three whole weeks into the semester, my students are becoming more and more comfortable with me, as I am no longer just the newcomer. Which is a good and bad thing. Today in my 11th grade class, we were doing a vocabulary builder. My objective was for them to learn basic vocabulary around a house, verbs and objects (they are only level III). They were contributing well, and it was going along ok, until one girl thought she would be funny and yell out "to f***". "Yes, Patricia," I said, "that is a verb, but not a very nice one." I feel like they could care less about life. They have that attitude. But everyone remembers how wonderful 11th grade was, don't you? Anyway, just a small glimpse into the classroom scene.

more beach views...:)

me and the little baby turtle

view from our balcony
sunset from the balcony

this is the view to the left, towards town, from our balcony - with leland

our living room/kitchen

view from my bedroom balcony - this is sort of the back of the town

this is the balcony of our new apartment, yeah and that's the beach right past it

By the way, I put a link to Lauren McHugh's blog. Lauren is a friend of mine from Lake Forest College, who just arrived in Macedonia with the Peace Corps. I thought you might like to check out a different perspective. Also, for a small and interesting update, Andrew Philippi has also joined the Peace Corps and will be going to Albania in March.

9th October 2006

So about 30 seconds after I published my last blog, things (of course) changed. And then 24 hours after that, things changed again. Leland and I are now living in one of the most beautiful apartments in all of Vila da Sal Rei. I walk about 10 minutes to the high school, and can now officially cook my own meals. Now for the story....

Literally 30 seconds after I clicked the "Publish Post" button, Leland gets a call from his immediate boss at the Peace Corps (his name is Aguido and he is Leland's boss the way Yonis is mine). We had been looking at several apartments but they had all been one bedroom. One we had looked at came fully furnished, including a futon in the living room/kitchen. Leland didn't really want to go to Jão Galego, and if you read his blog, that is evident. So he and Aguido discussed all the ways it was possible for us to stay in Vila almost at any cost. Leland told Aguido that if it came down to it, he even wouldn't mind sleeping on the futon until our permanent apartment is finished (it is in the building process, but with things moving and changing the way they do around here, we are not even considering guessing when it may be finished. They say 2 weeks, but we'll see). It has always been the plan to find temporary housing until this permanent apartment is finished. It is more in the middle of town, and we will have Cape Verdean neighbors, which is good.

Anyway...So we started to set things in motion on moving into a one bedroom apartment, with Leland on the futon. But by the time we decided this, the one bedroom apartment had already been rented out!! We then get a call from the Safety and Security Director of Cape Verde saying he is coming in the next day with the regional Safety and Security Director. The two of them, in three days, were going to find us a house. Lovely. So we spend all day Friday looking at houses and talking with several landlords about pricing and all that, etc. Housing in Peace Corps is usually done with the bare minimum. They usually rent out a cheap house or apartment, and furnish it themselves. They promise us volunteers a bed, a refrigerator, a table and four chairs, and a two burner stove. But anything outside of that we have to save up and purchase for ourselves. Needless to say, there are no cheap apartments here. Not yet anyway. So the only two bedroom apartment my Security guys could find was a tourist one that comes fully furnished with pots and pans and everything. And get this!! a washing machine. Ha!! Peace Corps is paying a ridiculous amount of money for this apartment and I will admit that even Leland and I were slightly ashamed to be living here (by the way I will upload pictures, hopefully tomorrow). The rent is about equal to $700 a month, which is over twice the usual maximum Peace Corps allows for rent. But we can finally cook! And we have a balcony with an amazing view and a fully stocked kitchen. But it is only temporary, until we move into our more Peace Corps-like apartment.

So that is the situation. Leland is ecstatic that we didn't have to move to Jão Galego. I have to admit I was slightly disappointed, especially because now we don't have any neighbors and we are living in a tourist apartment which doesn't help our image any. But I can't complain because it is a beautiful and convenient place to live. And I can cook :)

October 5th, 2006

Tourism. It has an interesting effect on all our lives, really. And it may not be extremely obvious at first, but it has definitely had an impact on my life here. While Boa Vista is no Turks and Caicos :), it does have fairly nice beaches and a growing service industry that has lended itself to the rise in European tourists. The cost is fairly inexpensive to come here, and hotel lodging is also relatively cheap. Just for an idea, $1.00 = 86$00 or one American dollar equals about eighty-six Cape Verdean escudos. The hotel that Leland and I have been staying in for the past month, for example is, 4000$00 per night, or roughly $50.00. Our rooms have two double beds, air conditioning and the rate includes breakfast. And we are across the street from the beach. Now, for most people, this is a very good deal. There are, of course, more lavish hotels, and also, cheaper ones. My point: Boa Vista is a cheap but nice place for European tourists to come. Especially the Italians.

How does this affect my life, you ask? Well, Vila da Sal Rei is the main town on the island. I guess you could call it the capital of Boa Vista. This is where most of the hotels are, all the grocery stores, the main market, and several restaurants. This is the main hub of the island. As a result of the growing tourism market, the small 'businesses' (I put businesses in quotations because Maria who has a small fruit stand in the Municipal Market, is in herself a business, just not a conventional one) have begun to cater almost entirely to the tourist population. These businesses include the housing market. Now you see where my life is affected. Housing in Sal Rei is extremely difficult to find. But this is where the high school is, and therefore my job. Leland also works here in Sal Rei in the Youth Center, and so naturally we wanted to live here as well. Needless to say, we have looked for a month now and have not been able to find a house. There are new developments, to be sure. But as they cater to tourists, they are all either only one bedroom, or outrageously expensive. So Leland and I have been forced out of our comfortable hotel and we move this weekend to Jão Galego. Which has its ups and downs.

Tourism also makes our integration into the community extremely difficult. As you have heard me mention before, people simply pass us off as tourists. It doesn't help that we live in a hotel. When we first came to Sal Rei, Leland and I were a littledisappointedd at the lack of the inviting culture we saw in São Domingos. But there is no lack here. It is merely hidden away; tucked out of reach of the tourists in the back alleys of the town and side streets that are not immediately visible from the main square. It took us a while to find it in Sal Rei, but it's there. And now that he and I are getting recognized around the town, integration has become a little easier. The good thing about Jão Galego is that there is no lack of culture there. It is your typical small African village. Beautiful, and the ripples of tourism are significantly weaker out there. But it is in the interior, and a 45 minute drive from our jobs. What makes that even more difficult is that public transport only goes in and out of Jão Galego three times a day. I'm not really sure what we will do if we miss the car :) Sleep on the beach, I expect.

But in a small way, I am looking forward to moving. The traveling will be hard and I am sure take a toll. But I will have a kitchen (yay!) neighborsours, and we will integrate within the community that has its own customs and doesn't cater to anyone, foreign or otherwise. They are there for themselves and for their families and friends. They have culture, and that is what I am looking forward to.

One last interesting observation we made about the tourism impact, was interestingly enough the amount of smokers here. On the island of Santiago, hardly anyone smoked. I maybe saw three or four people smoke the whole time I was in São Domingos. Here in Boa Vista everyone smokes. Teachers, parents, probably some students (although I have yet to see that thank goodness) and especiallyplethorathura of Italian tourists. The Italians love Boa Vista. There are several who live here and have been doing a lot of developing for the investments of more Italian tourists. So Leland and I will go on our merry way and move to the interior. He's not so thrilled about it, but I think it will be a good experience. But I will let you know after a few weeks or so of the drive :)

25 September 2006

I feel like our lives have just become amusing jokes. Not to everyone else. But just to us. Leland and I constantly find ourselves in situations that would, under normal circumstances, make us angry or frustrated. We find now, that we can't really do anything about anything so we just laugh. And our lives are somewhat unhumerously funny. We are still living in a hotel (and yes, if you do the math, that is now 14 nights). Yes, the hotel has it's positives for sure, like air conditioning, and I don't clean my own bathroom. But let me just tell you that when it comes to eating, WHAT A PAIN IN THE TUSHIE!! There are mas o menos 5 restaurants in all of Vila Sal Rei. That includes our very expensive hotel restaurant. So, needless to say, we absolutely dread meal times. Eating out all meals of the day might sound like a tasty treat. And it might be if all the restaurants served different types of meals. You know, a little Chinese, a little Mexican, a little American flair. Yeah it's not so much like that. I rotate between a circle of about 4 meals: chicken, tuna, spagetti with tuna, and pizza (believe me NOT Oregano's style). Each dish, everytime, is served with french fries, rice, and a 'salad' (by this I mean sliced tomatoes, and the occassional piece of lettuce or if we're lucky some carrots :)) My cholesterol level has skyrocketed I'm sure. The independence of having your own home where you can cook for yourself and add some variety and flavor to food is sorely missed. Leland loves to cook as well, so for us this is our small torture. Meal times have become chores and completely dreaded events. Which is such a bummer, because you all know how much I love to eat. Leland and I spend most of our meals immagining we were eating something else. We often say things like "Yeah! And when we have our own house, I'm totally gonna make ENCHILADAS!!" or "Chicken CURRY!!! Yeah!" I say, "I can't wait for my mother to send me all those INDIAN SPICES!!" And so the majority of our discussions now revolve around the dream schmorgasbourd (sp??) we will create the instant we move in. We have even gone so far as to go online to look up recipes. Stuff we can make with the limited supply of ingredients available to us on this island. I think we have a small cookbook by now. Thinks like casserole, chile, tacos, enchiladas, alfredo sauce. Yes I have even looked for the perfect way to make my own tortillas. Whenever I get a free moment on the internet I browse through allrecipes.com. Leland is a member at Epicurious.com. We are going loony. I am aware of this. But, as I am a Fazel, I already have food on the brain more than most. And how does the old saying go? "You only appreciate something when it's gone"? Or once you've lost it? Something like that. Well we for sure miss the flavor of eclectic foods and the lack of a home just becomes an even greater hole when we don't have a place we can create our own things, or have a tiny glimmer of control on our lives. And I can't believe I went on that long about food.

But school has started. And when I say started, I mean it just sort of began. Classes are supposed to begin at 7:30am. So me, being the fairly prompt American that I am, decided to get there this morning at around 7:10. I don't know where my classrooms are yet, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to ask Denise (my counterpart and director of the school). Well not one single solitary soul was at the school at that time this morning. Well I come to find out that acutally we won't really be teaching today, or tomorrow, or probably the next day either. Dude, what?? This week is pretty much just a type of 'getting to know you' series of information sessions. Today the director talked to the whole school (and actually it was just the 7th, 8th, and 9th graders as the upper levels don't have class until the afternoon) and the teachers went around and introduced themselves. About 1/3 of the teachers just simply decided not to show up. And, of course, my schedule has changed. I am now only teaching 22 hours a week (yay! one whole hour less!) and I am now teaching 8th, 10th, and 11th. They also did the language teachers a small favor by rearranging all the classes so they are no longer mixed level. But that also means that I am teaching a total of four different levels. My 8th graders are Level II, along with one of my 10th grade classes, the other 10th grade class is Level IV and my two 11th grade classes are Level III and Level V. But I don't really mind. I spent all yesterday making Trimestral Plans (plans done by week to show what you will teach in general each week of the trimester) and daily lesson plans for each level for each day. It sounds like a lot, but once you get into the grove, things flow pretty well. It may change, like so many things do.

But Leland and I have come to accept change as a part of our new lives. When something doesn't go as planned, we aren't surprised; but it does surprise us a little if we didn't see the change coming. Change has ironically become our constant, the only thing we can count on these days. We have adapted remarkably to 'going with the flow'. A mental necessity that is crucial to the survival in this little world of ours. The initial dust storm has settled and we have been left with a faint (but potentially wonderful and much needed) direction, never-ending patience, and acceptance. We have found ourselves content, and looking forward to our new life here.

We often joke that if World War III were to errupt, well first, we would have no idea (we're a little removed). And second, that we might be in one of the safest places on this earth. The ambiance is so relaxed, so 'chill' (for lack of a better word, sorry). It took a little bit to slow us fast-paced Americans down. But we have evolved and wedged ourselves into this welcoming society.
Now if we could only find a house... :)

Remember that roller coaster ride I talked about last time? It continues. It was brought to my attention that certain phrases or sentences I use in my blogs tend to sound unintentionally bad or, I believe the term was, racist. When any of you who know me at all would, I am sure, immediately laugh at that fact, I just wanted to clear up that when I describe people in a certain way or with certain features, be it the color of their skin or their particular accent, I in no way mean to sound racist or against them in any way. Since not one of you are here to actually experience what I am experiencing, I try to give the whole picture. This may include describing a particular feature a person I am talking about. Maybe I should conduct my speech with more tact, but this is a blog and I am just me talking about my life. And again, I don't mean this to sound mean or snooty in any way, but if you have a problem with the way I conduct my blog, you can go and read someone else's blog who I'm sure has the time to sit and consider exactly what they are writing and proofread it, and go over it AGAIN, and then publish it. I, unfortunately, am not one of those people. So my blogs contain what I think and what I experience, and thus is the nature of a blog in my opinion.

Anyway, sorry if that offended anyone. But I had good news today!! Leland and I finally have a post office box, so it is nice to see that we actually exist in this world. I was beginning to think we were just lost forever in the Hotel Boa Vista. We don't have a house, but I was told today by my VERY NICE AND CARING Education Director (his name is Yonis, the Dominican Republic man I referred to earlier) that it is possible we may have an apartment by tomorrow. Which in Cape Verde Time means possibly by this weekend. Which is good news for us. I am thinking of a getting a cell phone (Ha I know can you believe it??) they are a little costly, but as the house thing is still in the air, I think a phone number would help me feel a little more at ease. But we shall see.

I also got my school schedule today. Classes start on Monday and we have been having meetings all this week. Let me just begin by setting this scene up a little for you. The maximum amount of time a teacher is supposedly allowed to teach in a week is 22 hours, and only on rare occassions. The secondary schools here go from 7-12th grade. These 6 grade levels are then divided into cycles. First cycle is 7th and 8th grade, second cycle is 9th and 10th grade, and third cycle is 11th and 12th grade. As far as Foreign Language classes are concerned, students are allowed to choose whether they want to take English OR French when they enter 7th grade. They then take either of the two foreign languages they chose throughout the first cycle (meaning 7th and 8th grade). Once they reach 9th grade, however, they HAVE TO take both English and French for the entire second cycle (meaning 9th and 10th grade). Don't ask me why I don't know who thought of this bizarre notion. Students who chose to take English in 7th grade start at level I English (obviously) and move up one level for each grade level they move up in school. Example, if the student chose English in 7th grade, he/she would be in English I. In 8th grade, would be in English II, 9th grade English III, 10th grade English IV and so on. If, however, the student has chosen French in 7th grade, the student would then be starting at a Level I English class when he/she entered 9th grade. Do you see where I am going with this? No? Yes I know it's confusing. They do not mix the grade levels; in fact, the classes are put together and the beginning of the year and they stay in one classroom the whole year. Each period, the teacher goes to the class. So I don't have my own classroom, I go to each room, each period, where each of my classes remains. Here is my point: there aren't enough teachers to divide up the second cycle language students into different classes, which means in my 9th grade class, I have studets who have never taken an English class, and for other students this is their third year in English, they are level III. The same goes for my 10th graders. They will be both Level II and Level IV all in the same class.

I, by the way, will be teaching 23 hours per week (yes, 22 is the maximum), including Saturdays. And I actually cannot wait. I will be soooo busy, I cannot possibly be bored in this little one-horse town. Of course, everyone I tell looks at me like I am crazy. Even Yonis was a little worried about my morale. But today I am in good spirits. It's funny that the smallest things can make you happy. Like a schedule, or a post office box. And by the way, did you know that Amazon.com ships to Cape Verde?? I know, awesome, right. Ha. Anyway, things are finally starting to look up, I knew they would, it's all about my good friend the rollercoaster. He and I are best buds by now. If you don't understand the school thing, that's understandable, it's a little confusing. But if you have any questions about it, or any unique suggestions to get children motivated, let me know!! I love and miss everyone.

September, 15th 2006


They tell you to be prepared for a rollercoaster ride when you get to your site. Well I am here and lets just say this is unlike any other rollercoaster I have ever been on. I don't particularly like it. As I mentioned earlier, I am still living in a hotel, while my Peace Corps boss on another island just keeps saying in his Dominican Republic accent, "don't worry, Nadia, we will get everything worked out. You just relax." That is far easier said than done. I know I am on a beautiful beachy island, but the rollercoaster ride is giving me whiplash and I'm exhausted. I don't do much just yet. My daily activities include waking up around 8:30, eating breakfast wandering over to the high school maybe hanging around there not doing much for about an hour. Then I walk across the street to the Youth center where I sit on the internet until about lunch time. The rest of the day is spent either looking for a house or just wandering the town.

Yesterday, however, was a small break from the ordinary. I was able to see the sea turtles. The Youth Center has put together several programs for the children each day. Yesterday we drove the 2 hours to the other side of the island to watch the baby turtles hatch. It was so cute and a high point of the week for sure. (I have pictures, they will be up I promise as soon as I settle down and actually unpack some of my things). But the morning is usually a low point of my day, I am most down when I wake up. During the day, things get better and there is usually hope that maybe we have a house, or maybe things are moving along; but by evening usually something comes along and we are dissappointed again. This is the cycle of my day and my emotions. It is at times like these where I miss the rest of the friends I have made here in Cape Verde and I actually miss the training site on the other island. And of course, I miss home. There aren't a lot of people here in Boa Vista, the town was surprisingly small. And since Leland and I look like tourists, we still get treated like them. Meaning we pretty much get completely ignored.

I know these first three months are supposed to be the hardest and I expect that they will. I will be teaching 8th, 9th, and 10th, all three different levels, so my work is clearly cut out for me. But I know things will get better. There are about 8 of us newbies who have Capricorn birthdays, which as you know falls conveniently around Christmas break. Leland and I are 2 of them so we have decided to host a large party here during the break for all who want to come. Our house that is currently in construction looks very nice and will be brand new and big :) So we have that to look forward to and seeing our friends again during the Holiday Break. I know this pales in comparison to the giant family cruise my ENTIRE family will be on. But for us it is enough and we take the tiny pleasures any way we can. I miss everyone and seriously hope I have some good news next time around, haha.

Arrival in Boa Vista

Well I am here, and it is definately beautiful but Leland and I don't have a house which is frustrating, so we have been living in a hotel. The high school is a dump, it's exactly what any of you would picture a high school in Africa to look at. Which makes me happy and sad. Sad, of course that they can't find the money to build new buildings and happy that i'm here because they clearly need my help. I am one of two English teachers, which means I will be teaching all the students in the morning cycle of classes. I will be teaching a total of 22 hours a week, 2 7th grade, 2 8th grade, and 2 11th grade classes. Needless to say I have my work cut out for me. The housing situation is a mess, i'm a little nervous that we won't find a house. But the town is so cute, and there are a lot of tourists here but they community is nice and we have tried already to make friends. It's important to us not to be seen and tourists. For me it's a little easier, i'm not white, but my roomate Leland is a whitey and they basically just think we are toursits. But soon, hopefully things will work themselves out. Sorry this one was short, but time is limited and I need to find a house!!

August 24, 2006

In America we are such a closed society. When driving by a car accident, for example, who ever knows what is going on? We, as observers are often pushed a side, we are not meant to see what can be unpleasant or private. We build walls and fences to keep everyone out and ourselves locked in. We teachers have Model School in the capital city, Praia, this week and next week. This means we drive the 30 minutes from our small town to the fairly large city of Praia. Do not think city like New York, or even Phoenix. Think city like Rocky Point, Mexico. But Praia is unique in that you can see sparks of “first world” light mixed with the pull of poverty. And yet, today, I realized how open Cape Verdean society is. In Praia, on our way back from school, there was a large crowd on the street and the cars were backed up. People were running in every direction and yelling. Two men came up to our Hiase (the transport car we were all riding in, similar to a small van) and explained to our driver that there was an accident up ahead, but it should not affect our drive as it was on the other side of the road. There were no police, no ambulance sirens, just people who had come to observe or to help, whichever one the crowd would allow. A car had hit a man. We drove by slowly and through the fence of a hundred legs I could see the man. He was lying on the ground, unconscious and on his stomach. His head was bleeding but people were trying to move him. They couldn’t wait for the ambulance; I don’t think there is a word in Creole for ambulance. But here you don’t wait for someone bigger and stronger to do the work for you. There is no need to hide what happens in life. A few feet away, a man was walking away from the body and crying. We assumed he was the driver. I almost cried with him.

An open society lends its way to the necessary sharing of work and other of life’s essentials. For the past three days, they have been digging a ditch down our side street and passed the front of my house, on towards the neighbors’ house. This is for the water pipe, so that the water can be pumped directly into the storage tank, they will not have to carry it anymore. Progressive, I thought. Last night my home-stay mother turned to me, as all the men were struggling to lift a fairly large rock, and she said “In America you have machines to do this a lot faster, right?” and then she laughed. And I looked around. “Yes,” I thought, “we do have machines to do the work.” And I had to laugh as well. Because the scene in front of me, wasn’t of the neighborhood boys (about my age) forced to do this hard manual labor. It was that they were ALL here digging this hole that was for all of them. It was something of an event. And it was hard, and they were tired, but deep down, I don’t think any of them wanted a machine to come and do this work. It was their pipe for their water and they were all there to help because they wanted to be there. This same idea applies to the planting season. During the beginning of August, the boys around my age take responsibility for farming the family land. There is no hired help. But there are friends and their friends also have family land. My home-stay brother will help plant on his friend’s farm, and his friend will, in turn, come the day it is our time to plant. This sense of community is vibrant and rings true with every aspect of daily life. There are no closed doors, no fences or high walls. Just people and their emotional, mental, and physical strength.

August 20, 2006
Yesterday’s site announcement went well. I was extremely happy. I think most people were. I am going to Boa Vista with my friend (thank goodness) Leland. We are living 15 miles/30 minute drive from our jobs, so needless to say our primary objective when we get there is to find new housing in the main town of Sal Rei. This may prove to be difficult as Sal Rei is increasingly more popular with the tourists and new investment properties are popping up all over the place. I believed this piqued my father’s interest. As he is in the midst of possibly purchasing an investment property elsewhere, our conversation earlier today turned slightly into a real estate interview when I informed him about the rampant construction currently in progress on Boa Vista. It made me laugh a little. I told him I would get back to him in about a month when I had the info, and we could negotiate an offer then J. He makes me laugh. Oh, daddy I miss you! Needless to say, now that I know where I am going for the next two years, I just want to get on the plane and go; but, alas, I am here in training for three more weeks. One of our Education trainers, Charles, made and interesting point, however: he said I will be in Boa Vista for two years, I should enjoy being someplace different while I still can. And I like it here in Sao Domingos. Tonight, a current volunteer, Jacob, organized a basketball game mixed with Americans and Cape Verdeans. In my opinion, the Cape Verdeans play soccer far better, but basketball is cool and different to them, and they enjoy it. Dancing of course followed the game; the only thing missing was food. These people know how to live. Charles admires us Americans for coming over here to a strange place that is completely different from our lifestyle. He says he can relate. He moved here from Nigeria 6 years ago and has pursued a nice career as an English teacher. At first I wondered why he chose Cape Verde of all places. The language was completely different, it’s not on the African mainland, and who (besides the Italians) has ever heard of this place? But every day I understand a little more and I completely agree with him when he says in his thick Nigerian accent, “If there is one place you have to be for two years, this place is not bad.” Yes, I believe I can make it work on my impossibly beautiful beach for the next two years.

August 18, 2006

I have had issues thinking about what to write about. It doesn’t help that I am currently thinking in three languages. The Peace Corps Medical Officer told us yesterday that a Peace Corps volunteer’s stress level was equal to the stress levels of “losing your spouse times 3, losing your job times 5, and a family member in jail times 7.” She occasionally comes up with these ridiculous statistics and other interesting factoids about bizarre health concerns. As far as my actual stress level at this moment, I believe it is pretty low. Tomorrow is Site Announcement day. Here in Cape Verde I believe that this is something of great concern. We get placed on totally different islands. Meaning we have to fly to get to the other part of the country. And those of you in the US, of course this sounds like a ridiculous concern. But flying is expensive, especially compared to a bus that is generally the preferred and cheaper method of traveling in other 3rd world countries. All the islands are different and have their unique qualities which often are cause for greater discussion and believe me when I say that site announcement is ALL we trainees have been talking and thinking about for the past week. I feel lucky in that I pretty much already know where I am going. And the island is beautiful. It’s called Boa Vista, and it is one of the more touristy islands. A guidebook called the beaches on my island “impossibly beautiful.” This makes me laugh. I wasn’t prepared for this. Which is ironic. I was prepared for nearly everything. I prepared for sitting in my straw hut and living by myself in a strange town, I mean isn’t that what you think of when you think the Peace Corps Africa. I know it is. Instead I will be living on the beach on a beautiful island with a good friend of mine named Leiland. He loves to cook too, and we have made ridiculous plans about building a brick oven and an herb garden to make pizza. But you can’t laugh because half of our ridiculous notions are not so ridiculous, and they are completely possible. We don’t have much in the way of materials here. But the ability to improvise is a talent we have all picked up. Especially when your classroom is bare, and the students don’t have books, and are often hurting for a pencil and paper. Their notebooks become their textbooks and you should see them. They are immaculately neat and the translated vocabulary words are in different colors when they can trade colored pens with a friend. The remarkable thing is that I am not in a one-room school hut in the middle of nowhere. I am in an extraordinarily normal-looking three-story high school. But I don’t even have the ability to make photocopies for these children. Either they or I have to pay for them. My situation may be a little different when I get to my site but I doubt the living conditions of the locals will be vastly different, despite the touristy nature of the island. I am looking forward to living there, and being on my own. We have three weeks of training left. Believe me when I say we are all dying to go start our work. I personally cannot wait to start teaching my own class. The kids really are a good time and my new name is ‘teacher.’ Not Ms. Fazel, but just plain old ‘teacher.’ It’s cute the way they say it in their little accents, and I could be called worse…:)

PICTURES!!! FOR SOME REASON NOT ALL ARE UPLOADING, I WILL TRY AGAIN LATER...SORRY
but the top one is my homestay mother and some neighborhood girls and the second one is us having dinner at my house in our kitchen wiht some of my friends. my ´mother´and the girls are in our kintal which is like an open area in each house, it goes to the roof which is the picture i tried to upload as well that didn´t work so well...oh well i´ll try again!

actually, go on myspace and you can see more, they were able to upload better there!!

August 6, 2006

Friday was the last day of our Model School. Children come from all over the area to come to the secondary school. Some have to drive 30 minutes just to get there, and this is no easy task. But the school is cheap 20$00 for 8 days of class taught by novices, but, for the most part, is still effective. I was lucky to have older children. I taught 10th and 11th grade and they were pretty god kids. They didn’t give me much trouble, and because they already know a lot, they are easy to instruct with directions and such. But I marvel at their drive. Today, two of my 10th grade girls, who are also cousins (everyone here is cousins), gave me a gift at the end of school today. It was a music box in the shape of a piano that doubles as a jewelry box. When you wind it the ballerina dances to Fur Elise, which amused me. But where in the heck did she get this little gift? These things are not just lying around. She cannot hop to mall to pick up a little trinket. I admired this, because I wondered if she had bought it, or was it something she had already? I couldn’t help but wonder. The ‘festa’ after Model School was something amazing. All the classes had learned a song in English and had to perform it for all the rest of the school. My 10th graders did “Hello, Goodbye” by the Beatles. It has approximately 5 words, so it was perfect for them. They did really well. Which brings me to my next marvel: artistically speaking, these people are incredible. They picked up my song faster than I did. And you should see them dance. They are not afraid to let loose. They dance close and I mean really close. It’s a dance called ‘funana’ that can be done both fast and slow. And believe me when I tell you that you better like the person you are dancing funana with, because more than likely he likes you….a lot. They are just beautiful people. They dance, they sing, and they are just physically beautiful people. They never cease to amaze me.
All this weekend I have done nothing but dance. Saturday evening, my ‘older sister’ (she’s not actually older than I am but she’s the older of the two sisters; her name is Lai) took me to the neighborhood dance party. We had to dress all in black, something about witches. I’m not really sure and when I tried to explain our Halloween I don’t think she got it, but I mostly understood the witch idea. You dance with everyone and anyone and EVERYONE is into it; boys, girls, all and no one cares. They just dance and they dance awesomely. There is always food and drink and they don’t start till about 11pm and go until well into the morning. We were there until 3am because, come on, how many of you know what time I usually go to bed? But it was still going strong for a long time after we left. Again, I love this place.
Also, on another note I have to say that ANYTHING I say in my blogs is my opinion only and has not been endorsed or supported by Peace Corps or the US Government in any way.

August 2, 2006

The date looks weird to me. Dates and times and days of the week have taken on completely new meanings. Just like many other things here. I am physically and mentally exhausted but somehow I fit here like nowhere else I’ve ever been. Who would have thought, the little princess from Paradise Valley could feel so comfortable in a completely opposite environment? I may be working harder than I’ve ever worked in my life, and believe me, working for my father in his office was no easy task. We have four hours of language per day followed by lunch. After lunch we come back to school where we teach two high school English classes in a row. This is how it has been for nearly two weeks. This time is called Model School, when we learn how to be teachers. Yes, we are basically thrown into the fire and we are forced to create new and imaginative ways to survive. But this whole process has been pretty much that. With language, I was thrown in with a family who speaks absolutely no English, and if that doesn’t get you speaking another language in about 2 days, then I really don’t know what would. It’s interesting though because we teachers have stopped our Creole classes during the day in exchange for Portuguese. But when I go home everyday, I speak to my family in Creole but the television shows are all in Portuguese. And then occasionally in conversation I tend to throw in a Spanish word or two. The French is completely gone, not that I knew much of it to begin with. I’m mixed, just like my emotions, just like my soul. But this thought is definitely not something I dwell on. Though my skin color has become something of a fascination with the Cape Verdeans. They don’t entirely understand that my color is a result of two completely different colors mixing. To them I am just the ‘mas bonita Merkana’ with good hair and interesting skin. The emotions are also churning. Human beings thrust together and placed in an alien environment changes them. They draw close to each other and long for the familiar. I am happy to say we are an extremely normal group of American twenty-somethings, though there are a couple of us who stretch slightly beyond in age. I could not have handpicked a more accurate representation of my generation. We amazingly come from everywhere and have every type of experience you can imagine. And if you put us all together we have, combined, probably traveled over 98% of this earth. And we have mixed into each other, sharing, learning, and teaching and above all, laughing. And we eat a lot of French fries here. I’m not kidding. Possibly more than I ever ate at home.

July 30, 2006

As my mother neatly pointed out, clearly the blog entries are not up to blog snuff. So as I sit here in the dark, my typing only guided by the raised notches on the ‘f’ and ‘j’ keys, I contemplate a topic to direct my current message from the (usually) sunny archipelago of West Africa. But I am in the dark, as the power has left us and we are forced to bathe and eat by candlelight. It doesn’t bother me. The thing is, I came into this expecting the worst. The volunteers on the African mainland have come to call the Cape Verdean Peace Corps experience ‘Beach Corps.’ Honestly, we don’t have it that bad. Except for the occasional power outage, the house I am boarding in for the next few weeks is larger than many flats in London and in New York. The rainy season is here and so I have become a midnight snack for various mosquitoes and I’m sure the occasional spider. But I am happy. And the beaches here are really nice. Every once in a while you see the creepings of tourism threatening to consume the beauty. How could it not? People are always looking for something new and different. Volunteers here have mixed feelings on the tourism bug. Some don’t believe a society should survive based on servicing other people. But there really isn’t much else here. I marvel at their ability to grow corn and sugar cane on these islands. Particularly here, in my little temporary town of Sao Domingos. We are situated in a valley, and the mountains are steep, but they farm and it produces and I am in awe. People find other forms of sufficient income. My home stay father drives a bus in Praia; he is gone before I wake up in the morning. I believe this affords him a sufficient living. Everyone here also has animals they raise and then sell when they are of adequate weight for slaughter. I am reading a book right now called A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry. It is a well-written novel; slightly depressing and he drags sometimes, but I almost feel like I can relate. He talks about the slums of India and making it in a world that feels as though it doesn’t want you to succeed. I by no means am in the slums of anywhere; nor, however, am I in my Paradise Valley home. I am in the middle, but have thus far traveled a journey that has taken me a little closer to someone else’s existence; I look at my old life from their existence, and I can’t help but smile. When I sit with my host mother and some of the local neighbors, I think: “these people are truly happy, they want for nothing.” There is a huge sense of community here. Just last night there was a neighborhood party with more delicious food than I have had yet. They all pitch in a little money and if you don’t give money, you are responsible for making and bring grog, the locally made alcohol (a little while the locals gave up on competing to sell their sugar cane for sugar, so they found a way to compress it to form a really disgusting alcohol that’s cheap and clearly a better use for the cane). The community is the one thing I admire most. They care for one another and there is absolutely no rush to do anything. People call it ‘island time’; I personally call it a good time :)

Life is the craziest I’ve ever known it. It’s odd when you are so consumed with life that you forget when or where you came from. Fellow trainees have nicknamed pre-service training high school on steroids. It really feels that way. We are in class from 8:30 until 5:30 with sometimes only ½ hour for a lunch break. Those are the days I go back home and collapse. There is no time however, because my family is there and I like talking to them. They don’t speak any English so I have been forced to learn to speak Creole fluently in 2 weeks. I was actually surprised as to how fast most of us were able to pick it up. The teaching thing is going to be very scary. We started model school this week. I am teaching 10th and 11th graders. I have lesson plans but when you get in that classroom with 30+ students in the class just staring at you, I found it was similar to auditioning. And we all know how much I love doing that. At least I know what to expect when I actually get to my site, which is also something of a nerve-racking anticipation. I may also be teaching a computer class or two, so I’ve been told. It will be basic word-processing class, but that means that I will have to be up on my Portuguese. Yes we are learning two languages at the same time. We were given 2 weeks of instruction in Creole, and now we are expected to continue speaking with our families. For those of us in education, we have now moved on to the Portuguese instruction for the next 6 weeks. So we will continue to speak Creole in the home with our families and Portuguese in the classroom. In schools here, Portuguese is the language all subjects are taught in. Any kind of formal instruction, anything is done in Portuguese. But when having a conversation with the average person on the street or in the market, they speak Creole. Yay language! It’s very overwhelming and life consuming I feel like I’ve been here my whole life. I haven’t been able to think about anything else. It has started to rain here. They love the rain, they only get a little bit of it, so they are thankful when it comes. I’m sorry if this has been scattered and long but I don’t get to go to an internet café that often. Hardly ever actually, there is no internet in the town we live, so it is rare to get to go. Mailing letters may actually be quicker. I may have to try that…. Goodbye for now and I hope to be able to write again soon. Also attached are some photos of the area. There is one with me and my host mother and younger sister. Also, there are other photos of Sao Domingos where I have been for the past 3 weeks, and will be here for another 6 weeks. I always have like 5 seconds on the internet so i try my best!!

Wow this place is ablsolutely fabulous. I really didn´t expect to love it this much but i do. Today we started shadowing and there are two trainees following one Volunteer, he has been here for almost 2 years. he took us hiking up a REALLY tall mountain, we didnt hike the whole way, occassionally you get rides from people and just hop in the back of their truck. its nice becasue you dont have to pay them and its a nice breeze. from the top we could see another island, the one with the volcano called FOGO. we have now come back to the capital for one night and thecity is absolutely crazy. MUCH different from the small town we have our training. i will post pictures of it when i get a chance to transfer them from my computer. i took the public buss system here in the city and everything is so cheap. for a half a chicken some fries and a coke it costs about 450$00 escudo which is roughly less than $4.00 and the food is delicious. there are a surprising number of french fries here and they are so good, but i never thought i would get that many here. these islands are growing fast and they are slightly more europeanized than mainland Africa. I like it, i look forward to travelling to the northern islands to see what its all about. well i need to go, i will post something again soon!