I Believe

Whilst in a Monday meeting with my coworkers at the NSTP,  we were discussing the upcoming graduation ceremony for the A Ganar graduates.  I pointed out that I would be busy that Saturday volunteering at the 3rd Annual 5K Run for the St. Christopher Children's Home, and wouldn't be able to make it to the graduation.  And when the theme "I Believe; I Can Achieve" was discussed, I was inspired to contribute a poem in lieu of attending.  So I spent the time in the meeting composing the following poem; it was all done in about an hour's time.

My friends, my mentors, they encourage me;

My parents, my teachers, they want to see

The best come through in all I do

And show the world that I, for true,

Am worth the sacrifices they’ve made.  For

This I believe; I can achieve more

When I study those that want me to succeed.

The finish line looks far away,

But I’m being careful not to stray

From the path that takes me to the top.

Until I reach, I nah gon’ stop.

Some may doubt, but in my soul,

I believe; I can achieve the goal

That I have placed before myself.

In school, I’d fight and sweat and strive –

But thanks to A GANAR, I thrive

On the knowledge that I can do my part

To forge myself a brand-new start

Preparing myself for life’s big test.

I believe; I can achieve my best

By taking seriously the chances I’ve been blessed with.

I may not grow up to be rich,

My clothes may wear at every stitch,

But I know that yet still more import

Is found in whether I’m the sort

Of person the highest riches affords.

I believe; I can achieve rewards

In heaven and earth by doing my best every day.

I was favored with the attendance of over 50 friends, neighbors, and fellow volunteers at my 'Thanks and Goodbye' party on the evening of Friday the 28th.  Waking up at 6:00AM to start the cooking and going all the way through until guests began arriving around 5:30 that afternoon, I was almost completely spent even before the fun began.  But with the help of my good friend who showed me the ropes in preparing each of the local dishes on the menu (i.e. Cookup, Ginger Wings, Breadfruit Salad, Macaroni Pie) we got through it and was able to serve everyone who showed up looking for some good food and a good lime.  The Peace Corps and my work office were both well represented, and plenty of other friends and neighbors showed up and stayed until 10:00 that evening, just as the Tiki torches began to die out.  It was a success in the eyes of all the guests, and I took the rest of the weekend to recover.

I have but 10 days remaining in the Caribbean.  Some things left on my last minute to-do list are getting wrapped up presently: I went by Caribelle Batik at Romney Manor and purchased the portrait batik of a SK rum shop that will hang in my office, whenever and wherever I have one.  I submitted my health insurance application today, a small benefit when returning home after two years abroad.  Additionally, I was able to negotiate a discounted rate at the Royal St. Kitts Golf Course in Frigate Bay, and hope to take advantage of it this Thursday.  Aside from those three things, I'll have the first half of next week to complete any remaining trivial things before catching my flight back next Thursday the 18th. 

"Can't Stay" Says May / Too Soon for June

Wow, 70 hits for Monday's blogpost in two days?? Maybe I should title all of my future posts with allusions to popular rock songs from the '80s.

Now seems like it would be a good time to recount some more achievements of mine since starting my Peace Corps service all the way back in September 2010.  Using the previously seen GamersCorps Achievements format, here is an update to how my last 20 months have shaped up in my mind.

... Oh, and one that stands out above the rest:

It's satisfying to have all of these positive reminders of a fruitful term of service all in one place here.  Hopefully I get to add a little more to it come October and tally up my final score.

Also, new blog header.  I tried to pick the clashingest colors I could find, and I think I succeeded.

Funnyquote Friday

Trying to find a fellow Peace Corps' home in Keys Village, I was given the following directions:  Get off the bus, and go up the hill.  Take the second right off the main road.  Then,

"Keep going until you pass the squished frog."

What makes this extra funny, is that my traveling companion and I did actually find this remnant of an unfortunate amphibious excursion, the latest victim of mindless road rage and an unwitting landmark guidepost.

This is my last week of work on the Serious Ting before it goes off for approval in St. Lucia.  I'm pretty excited about how it's shaping up, and as usual I look forward to seeing the end result in print form.  I've cordoned off this weekend entirely for putting the final pieces together, and exporting the result.

I've spent every evening this week visiting a different high school in town and interviewing applicants of the A Ganar project for official USAID paperwork purposes.  Every evening beginning at 5:00 and going until after sunset, trying to coax thoughtful responses from 4A6 students (high school seniors, lowest achievement stream), I am exhausted by the end of the day.  The result has been that when I get home in the evening, I'm too tired to cook and eat simple high-carb meals like PB&Js or Mac&Cheese.  As the week has progressed, I didn't have the energy to get up early to perform my usual workout regimen, which has made me feel even more bleahhh...  So even though it is the start of Lent this week and I was hoping to use that as further incentive to keep to my new self-improvement activity, I'm likely going to have to wait until this weekend to continue going with that.

My mother, in response to my laments of loneliness here on my island, mercifully and charitably (though guilelessly) recommended I read the book of James – given that was the material her church family is currently exploring in a sermon series on that book of the Bible.  But anyone that knows the book of James knows that it is hardly applicable to someone that sincerely needs a morale boost.  Instead, she should have recommended the wise words of Holland-Dozier-Holland via the dulcet chords of Phil Collins.  Now, far be it from me to compare this favorably against scripture; I'm just saying that in this great big world and full life we've been given, inspiration can come from all kinds of different sources.

What It Could Have Been Like, v2.0

A happy new 2012 and all the best to my readers back in the States.  Just the word "twenty-twelve" is enough to make me happy, it's so euphonious in its alliteration it just kind of rolls off the tongue.

As last year's first post of the year was a hit with so many, I'm going to try to recreate the mystique of that experience again, this time putting myself in the shoes of a young girl in St. Kitts.  Please bear in mind that while all the descriptions and scenarios are inspired by the socioeconomic situation here in SKB, none are based on actual events or people.  The story is entirely fictional, and meant to inform and encapsulate the average struggles in the Federation, and not meant to disrepute any person or group of people.

I got home from school yesterday to find Greyg, my stepfather, drunk and yelling at my mother.  He had spent the afternoon at the rum shop across the street, and had imbibed too many Caribs before five o'clock.  I had witnessed this abuse one time before from him, and so I knew that there was nothing I could reasonably be expected to do to stop it.  I went to my room instead.

My room is a bedroom shared with Paul, my 12-year-old younger brother, and my younger step siblings.  My name is J'recia, and I'm a 14-year-old second form student at WAHS.  I was born in New Jersey, but can only remember living here in St. Kitts.  I had an older brother, but Shakim was killed in a gang altercation 2 years ago.  Mom believed he was going to be the first in our family to graduate from secondary school.  Due to my entering secondary school pregnant, the honorific of "first high school graduate" simply bypassed me and now lays with Paul, who is still in primary school.  My son, Skimbo, is now 6 months old, and represents the primary reason for my contemplating dropping out early, in spite of what the guidance counselor at Washy was trying to convince me of yesterday.

Skimbo, like a gift from God, came to me as a bit of a shock.  My family has always been friends with the driver of the bus Too Fast, so about the time I began seeking trans around the city to visit my friends from school, I preferred to use his services, since he didn't charge me.  One night, however, after the last patron was dropped off in the country, we took a detour from heading back into town, where he raped me.  I carried out the resultant pregnancy to term, as my family and pastor said I had to, and now my mother and I have an additional 6-month-old charge.  While I resent having my body and honor taken advantage of, I don't hate the man, and still see him in town frequently.  Mostly, I'm thankful for my beautiful son, and dutiful to bring him up in this warm corner of an otherwise cold world. 

As I lay down on my pallet contemplating these things, Paul comes in after me, seemingly undisturbed by the cacophony of Greyg's shouting outside the door.  The smell of dope wafts around him.  When I inquire, he says he doesn't partake, but he was hanging around with a group of older boys who were smoking.  He says it with the ease of someone with no guilt, so I don't press the subject; he hardly has a reason to hide anything from his older sister.  Instead, he continues on about the boys, clearly and profoundly impressed.  The hair starts to raise on the back of my neck, and just as I open my mouth to confront him, he beats me to the punch:

He says he wants to join their gang.

I hope you enjoyed/were moved/learned a little from my story.  Leave a comment if you were.

I'm due to start back at work on Wednesday (I think), and so am looking forward to getting back into a routine.  Carnival has been good this year, with a much more relaxed feel to it.  I have been able to take part in the activities I wanted to, with full knowledge of what to expect ahead of time, which has made it far more easy-going for me.  In fact, the longer I do this, the more I agree that a two year term of service is a very good length of time to be immersed in another country.  Granted, it is a very long time, but in the end, just long enough to ensure that one has taken part in everything one can in a calendar year.  So thanks, Peace Corps, for that.

Photo Reel

It's so intense...

In a week graced with multiple rare acts of God, this last one was a pleasure to see: a double rainbow that popped up during a brief sun shower.  Just over the gardens to the East of my house, this picture was taken from my front porch yesterday afternoon.  At one point, the rain was coming down hard and fast on the right side of my porch, but the ground was completely dry everywhere on the left side.

The view of the Basseterre Harbor from atop the Ocean Terrace Inn

The weather was hit and miss during MST, when we volunteers spent the workweek in training at the Ocean Terrace Inn in Basseterre.  In this picture, of course, the weather is impeccable, but the other half of the time saw overcast skies and occasional drizzles.  That trend has mostly held up these last few weeks, and now mosquitoes are finding droves of lawns with standing water to repopulate.  The offshoot is that I can't keep my door open during the morning or evening for fear of letting in dozens of mosquitoes.

St. Kitts' 25 Most Remarkable Teens honored at Parliament, 23 November 2011

If I can be so forward as to say, the most important aspect of the 25 Most Remarkable Teens ceremony was the clear and dazzling display of government buy-in.  For a project that claims only one specific goal, to celebrate the positive achievements of today's youth contrasted against the seemingly endless flow of negative press bulletins and falling public sentiment, the program actually has many aspects that promote positivity and cooperation in the Federation, between youth and adults, as well as political parties.  For further details on the event, plus a retelling of each of the teenagers' remarkable stories, make sure to visit my colleague's blog.

What volunteers do in their spare time?

When an EC80 couple, good friends to me and so many around the island, were forced to end their term of service a few months early, we volunteers congregated at their abode to wish them well in their travels (and to clean up some of the household goods that weren't coming with them).  In this case, everyone was guaranteed 2 rolls of toilet paper, but everything else was first-come, first-served.  The said older couple has recently moved nearer their oldest son's family in Alaska; if they read this, I extend once again my sincerest best wishes.

Peace Corps (unofficial) motto

One of the changes in the mood following MST is the now constant awareness of the impermanence of the vast majority of things one does here, whether big projects or small.  I feel like this decidedly melancholy sense is doubled for those of us on islands that the Peace Corps will be pulling out from following our term of service.  However, when discussing it with my APCD, she related to me a peace that she has felt about the situation recently: paraphrased, she felt like our job, now, was to "leave with dignity," with the knowledge of a job well done.  By extension of the Peace Corps' mission, it's as much a victory as a concession when we move out of a country, and maybe St. Kitts and Nevis is ready to move along for a little while without us?

Revisiting my inspiration for joining the Peace Corps in the first place, and with a vote of thanks to Jesse Cline, here are two good illustrations of what I believe the Peace Corps will mean to me in the coming years.
Comic A and Comic B

Funnyquote Friday

Overheard at a Frigate Bay beach bar:

"It's Kurt; like Kurt Douglas."

Well, I had a bit of a surprise this morning: as it turns out, people do not work on Good Friday.  Cayon Street was virtually devoid of traffic, the NSTP office was closed as tight as a drumhead, and even the buses going into and leaving from town were mostly deserted.  I feel about the same way I did whenever I missed Daylight Savings Time in my college years (it happened twice).  But mostly I'm just surprised that I stumbled into a long weekend that I didn't even know I was looking forward to.

Part of 'making it' in a new and different place is figuring out the opportunity costs of acquiring the niceties of living that one comes to depend on.  For me, I require a handful of things to not go stir-crazy: exercise a few times a week, 3 meals a day, and internet access are three of the big ones.  And lately I've been meeting these needs by playing soccer on Thursdays, which is a free (albeit socially stressful) activity and doesn't impede on my budget.  Due to recent events, however, I'm electing to shift one more item from the "could go without" heap to the "must focus attentions on" queue: I want to improve my appearance by increasing upper body strength and muscular definition.

... I can, even now, hear you chuckling.  The truth is, even after I lost the initial 15 pounds after living with my host family for just one month, I'm down yet another 5 pounds from that.  Which is diving rapidly into the more uncertain regions of underweight-ness.  I've always been comfortable at 140 lbs., but dipping below that is probably unwise, especially for someone with previous vasovagal episodes.  So I've concluded I can head this off by increasing my caloric expenditure, forcing my body to demand more caloric intake.  And I'll accomplish this by joining the gym in town, just a short jaunt from my office, and visit in the mornings before work three days a week.  Naturally, this relieving the stress of one factor introduces new constraints on a second: my understanding is that the membership fee is around EC$75 per month, which is what I'm paying for internet service right now (before tax).  And since roughly 80-90% of my monthly budget goes towards groceries, if I decide to undertake this additional expense, the difference will be met almost entirely in my grocery spending.

I'm aware of the inherent contradiction here: work out more to eat more, but spend less on eating.  The truth is, I could afford to cut back on portions of my shopping list.  Some of my fellow PCVs here, especially the ones that have 18 months of service already, have pointed to my tendency to purchase Classico brand Vodka Sauce as an example of unwitting overspending.  My thinking is, "I'm eating spaghetti = I'm saving money." But their argument is, I'm paying EC$13.60 for a jar of premium spaghetti sauce, plus EC$10.72 on a carton of mushrooms, all in all about $25 before the spaghetti, for an amount that lasts about two meals.  The alternative, they say, would be to purchase the cheap Hunt's brand spaghetti sauce in a can, about three meals' worth, at EC$6.50.  Season it up however I want, of course, but at minimal expense.  And I must confess this makes a lot of sense, though is markedly less appealing to my sense of appetite.

The signs of Spring here, are, to the best of my knowledge, limited to the appreciable increase in exposure of birds and bird varieties.  I've already spotted two new nests in the last week, a half dozen fledgling Mourning Doves, and a hummingbird in the past week.  Apart from that, the air is slightly warmer in the day, slightly dryer, and slightly less breezy.  So basically showing the signs of a rapid push to summer weather, which will last all the way through to November – 6+ months of awesome!

Funnyquote Friday

Asked (in jest, of course) of my fellow volunteer just before hiking up Mt. Liamuiga:

"Would you like to be the [Peace Corps]

Country Director's water carrier?"

I have some pretty entertaining 10-minute conversations with my coworker every day on the commute home after work.  The topic for Wednesday was "stress," no doubt brought on by her unfortunate scramble at the end of that day to finish something last-minute, in the Kittitian way, all with the constant supervision of our boss.  She said she remembered a time not so long ago when she didn't have a care in the world, and where the constant stresses of today didn't find her.  I told her that was just being silly, that I was willing to bet she had many serious stresses even then, e.g. school, looking for a job, parental expectations, living at home, etc.  And while they may not be the same stressors that we both face today, their respective magnitudes and effect on our day-to-day happiness is difficult for anyone to gauge.  She then interpreted my cogitations as experiential, and asked if I was somehow immune to stress, citing my general nonchalance in the office.  I argued that I did indeed have stresses, not unlike hers, but my ability to compartmentalize in combination with the relaxed nature of my NSTP projects against, say, my school projects, inclines me to appear relaxed when I am at work.  In truth, I didn't believe the words as they were leaving my mouth.

Because when I got home, and I stopped to really think about it, I realized that this wasn't the reason that I was able to go into work seemingly stress-free three days a week.  I'm instead beginning to believe that it is actually because, for the first time, I am exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to be doing right now.  Maybe telling all those people that the reason I joined the Peace Corps was because "the timing was right" has got me believing it now, too.  In truth, I'd not rather be in the States, concerned with keeping peace and control in a family, maintaining a high level of performance output at work, and exploring new levels of sedentary livelihood; I'd rather be here, astride the ocean, contributing to society, and enjoying my youth as I do.  Even now, as I write this, I am in shorts and drinking a Skol, watching the cruise ships head south to whatever-destination awaits.

In retrospect, I bet this whole bit is just an outcropping of the sense of relief I feel after successfully identifying the 10 new members of the DWC Iron Band, which I did Tuesday, and in turn holding our first meeting on Thursday.  The meeting went well, as 8 of the 10 I invited to be part of the Iron Band were able to attend, discuss our respective ideas for the programme, and get in a little face time.  It's pretty clear to me already who the highly-motivated students will be, who the clowns will be, and who the late bloomers will prove to be.  The bottom line, however: this is a good group of kids that are eager to get to "knocking on stuff," as one of them put it, and use some of that after-school energy on a positive pursuit.  In fact, despite not having touched an instrument yet, they are already begging for permission to perform at the next morning assembly.  An excellent dry run once we establish an act, I thought, before going across town to perform for the first time.  So I might have some progress to report on our first performance sooner than I expected; but before I give the green light for that, I would like to actually hear them first!

Christopher Nelson, Person

I spent the entirety of the weekend being productive: I created, typed and published a 7 page proposal for the Iron Band project, complete with recruiting and financing details, two pages of landmark progress indicators, and a calendar.  It's rather verbose, but got the approval of my APCD this morning, when I went in to the office to receive my Hep A booster shot.  Just one more round of Hep B in April and I think I'm all vaccinated up!  I also contributed to the planning of a youth summer camp that a fellow volunteer is planning for July and which I offered to be a counselor at.  I even reviewed and offered suggestions of a real business plan by the relative of an acquaintance on Nevis.  I stayed very busy!

We EC82s on St. Kitts will be receiving another of our own into the fold today – a volunteer from St. Vincent and the Grenadines will be transferring to St. Kitts for (hopefully) the remainder of her term of service.  We here are, of course, very excited to see her again, and eager to make her feel comfortable reorienting to her new island home.  Not to mention recruit her help on some of our fledgling projects! (I'm only semi-kidding there, mind you.)

On Saturday night, I had a dream that I ordered a set of business cards, and they read, quite simply,

CHRISTOPHER W. NELSON

PERSON

Contact Info Home Address E-mail Website

I promise I'm not going for anything overtly dramatic or corny here, but it did give me pause when I awoke and stopped to think about it.  As readers may know, a great many of the things we dream about are borne out of our subconscious trying to release repressed thoughts and feelings, things we would not consciously let ourselves do or say.  And if that is indeed the case here, I was forced to consider why I would dream this and what it might mean for my future.

The first thing that came to my mind was the significance of it being printed on a business card – the sort of thing one would show at a job interview.  What kind of job would I be interviewing for that my humanity would be important?  I don't know.  What I do know is that, after school, internships and a stint in the Peace Corps, I want the sort of job that I would want to be doing even if I wasn't being paid.  I hope my lifestyle and nature speak to my credit when I say with complete honesty that it really isn't about the money.  Right?  I can trace this sentiment back to two strong examples in my parents for doing the work that is most important, serves the most people, and is rewarding, but not necessarily in a monetary sense.  After all, money is hardly an end, but merely a means to an end.

Well, I hadn't planned on taking this diversion today, but maybe somebody needed to read this.  Who can tell such things?

A Welcome Change

Well, not bad for a first day of IST, all things considered.  Institutional Point Persons, our NGO or school counterparts were encouraged to attend today's session, and both my IPPs made showings, however at staggered intervals during the day.  So in all, I really only ended up with one 20 minute segment out of a whole day to participate in the proceedings with just one of my two counterparts.  And while this made it a bit awkward at times, the benefits of getting to meet everyone else's counterparts once again was helpful and somewhat refreshing.  Also, spending time in the glorious Kittitian tradition of singing each others' praises was somewhat rewarding as well.

One IPP in particular stole the show.  She is a social worker specializing in AIDS awareness and prevention – nothing unusual about this, as I have met several since being on island.  However, she actually lives the shamelessness one has to adopt to overcome the taboos and social proclivities of discussing sexual health.  And she even goes beyond that, to the point of simply overcompensating.  Going even beyond the realm of practicality or expediency, every single thought she broached or contributed was a metaphor pregnant with innuendo. (Emphasis added to reinforce that this is in no way an exaggeration.)   To the sophomoric mind like the one I bear, this was met with astounding amusement, however I can confidently say that the sentiment was not universal.  It goes a long way, in my mind, towards reopening the questions of gender equality in our respective societies, since I fear the reactions to her interjections would not have been the same had she been male.  But that is just my opinion.  Ask me about it sometime if you care to know more.

Amongst the hubbub of volunteers telling other poignant anecdotes, I discovered I am unique in possessing one talent in particular: I actively involve myself willingly into lots of diverse things – at work and otherwise.  Not to compare myself with my colleagues; I merely observed that a goodly portion of the positive things my coworkers, counterparts, and cohorts (PCVs) thought of to say about me were things that didn't directly coincide with my projects, but rather (1) helping clean up the NSTP building and site, (2) visiting and documenting an NSTP class graduation on a Sunday evening, (3) helping out at the Queen pageant (that is, a fund raising beauty pageant at my primary school), and of course (4) joining a troupe for J'ouvert, which has been mentioned before by other parties though was not mentioned today.

I spent Saturday over on Nevis, and had a great time helping break-in the new home of a fellow volunteer at her housewarming party.  I met some old friends (can they be old friends, if I met them under six months ago?) and made some new friends there.  An even do' dey be on Nevis, me be tinkin' dat me be seein' dem again soon.

2 Cups Flour, 1 Tbsp. Perspective

It's sad to say that, after only 5 months, I think I'm already at the point where I'm so inundated with the short-term, day-to-day, that it's hard to separate out the big picture of what I'm trying to accomplish here.  Where I should be thrilled with the notion that I am serving as a cog in a bigger machine (albeit of very slow-moving progress), content to make note of accomplishments when my time here is done, I can't help but wonder here and now if the small things I'm doing every day are making any real, permanent difference to the institutions I'm working with. 

I guess another way of putting the same thing is, I'm losing the battle with putting aside my own expectations of what progress is in social development work here in the Eastern Caribbean.  As I pointed out during PST, this is one of the top three challenges that I anticipated before starting my service, in conjunction with perpetual loneliness and being singled out or mistaken for a tourist or student because of my difference in appearance.  At the time, I identified two primary mechanisms for relieving these anxieties: spending time in prayer and the Word, and sharing in deep conversations with peers.  One has quickly dropped off in frequency (blame the Internet) and the other is lacking in several necessary parts.  The result is an unfortunate inability to appropriately deal with these psychological struggles, and a subsequent drop in efficiency in important things, like work and house maintenance.

This is, perhaps, an unfortunate realization coming up to my performance check-up scheduled for Wednesday.  I'm not particularly nervous, or anything, and I have my preparations for the meeting with my Institutional Point Person and my Assistant Peace Corps Director taken care of.  I'm just aware of my tendency to be very transparent, even when I try not to divulge certain details.  Heck, even my willingness to log these thoughts should be evidence of that.  But I chose long ago to err on the side of fully honest disclosure in all of my undertakings; a friend and mentor of mine once called this choice "a life without guilt."  There is some truth to this, to be sure.  I don't regret this guiding habit, but it would be untrue to suggest that it always leads me to the best option.  But that's a different post, perhaps.

There is a sign right across from my seat in my office, posted there by our Social & Life Skills adviser at the NSTP.  It reads, "Poverty of purpose is far worse than poverty of purse."  I don't know if you have to be in the Peace Corps to appreciate the wisdom of this reality, but I can say that all PCVs face this at some point in their service, perhaps those in the EC a little sooner than others.  It's part of the reality of working in the richest global region that the Peace Corps has any presence in: the perception that the good we can do here is, as often as not, regarded as limited.  And in my case, paired with an institution that has no cash flow to support daily operations, this can occasionally be doubly so.

The good side to all of this is that I've identified another method of achieving a temporary morale boost: cooking!  Thanks in large part to the hours I spent with my ex-fiancée in the kitchen, observing and participating where I could, I picked up a lot of helpful techniques to ensure some level of sustained success in my culinary endeavors, ambitions that I never knew I had.  But I've come to find out that I am so proud of my newly-evolving abilities that I have added a list of the dishes most deserving of praise to the front page of this blog.

Reservations for Château du CEC are now being accepted, but you'll have to call soon – seats are going fast!

What It Could Have Been Like

A topic of intrigue for myself of late has been how disparate and unique my Peace Corps experience will have been from all of the returned PCVs I meet in future travels, even from other PCVs here in the EC and on my island.  To wit: the nature of PC interactions and influence in our daily lives is, I have to imagine, several orders more prevalent than the non-island norm.  Since most readers are presumably aware, to some degree, of my situation here on St. Kitts, I'll start by laying out a fictional, but what I understand to be entirely plausible, alternative scenario were I stationed in, say, Niger of Africa.

Settled once-for-all in my home that is comparable in nearly every way to the expected basic living conditions of the average-income citizen, situated in the village I will be expected to work and live in for two years, the few hundred people that inhabit my village will become my second family in time.  They already know me in short order and recognize me from great distances, long before I will be able to recall everyone's names.  But as I am a welcome outsider, for a time my inability to recall names or even communicate well in both French and the local dialect is forgiven.  The village nearest to mine is 50 miles to the southwest, about an hour-and-a-half jeep ride over the sand and steppe on the way to the capital of Niamey, which is another 50 miles beyond that.  The nearest PCV to me, on the other hand, is about 300 miles north along the national highway, about an 8 hour trip counting in rest stops, meals, and passing livestock, and not including unforeseen obstacles like tire blowouts, road impasses, and sandstorms.  The other PCVs say I'm lucky to be just 100 miles from the Peace Corps office in the capital, since I can conceivably ride into town, take care of important business like collecting mail from home (it's been a month since I checked last) and filling out Peace Corps paperwork and trimesterly reports, and still get back to my village in the same day.  For most of them, it is a full day's commitment, an entire day devoted to almost non-stop travel, just to take care of an hour's worth of business, maybe see the capital again while the sun is still up, then head back home the next morning, all the while being forced to miss the usual Thursday pickup game of soccer with the village youth.  A final note: the most remarkable thing to me about taking up residence here is that, even when away from my village and around people who clearly don't know me, because of my obvious difference in appearance, I am treated with inviting curiosity and generally welcome interest by most host-country nationals.  I am not treated as an outsider, but as a visitor, which provides a unique opportunity to engage in the Corps's second goal: share a little bit of my culture with my new neighbors. 

This is diametrically opposed in many instances to my experience here in the Federation.  Even compared to my fellow PCVs on-island, I have a very short trip into the capital (seeing as how I live within eyeshot, and sometimes earshot, of it), so while others have to at least budget between EC$5 and EC$7.50 for a trip into town, I can just walk with nothing to lose but a few hours and some lactic acid buildup.  Similarly, if PC staff has to visit on site for any reason, instead of a more typical, say, two-weeks notice, they have the freedom to literally call on their way.  This is all forgoing the mention of just having running hot water, electricity, and the DSL internet connection I am using right now.  I sincerely look forward to the conversations I have with future RPCV acquaintances about the expanse of differences in our respective experiences.

I gather a few shout-outs are due here.  Happy 30th anniversary, Mom and Dad.  The gift may or may not, in fact, be in the mail.  And congratulations to Meagan and Ryan on their engagement.  I can't wait to find out the date!

Please continue to pray for me, specifically for a healthy diversity of social interactions.  Granted, it's only been four months, and things will probably start getting more hectic when work starts up again, but for the meantime, it's difficult to get away from the pressing feeling of loneliness.

If I haven't already said so, Happy New 2011 to everyone.  Here's a new blog header to celebrate!

Work and School Are Winding Down

I organized the youth novels at the primary school library on Tuesday.  I sorted them alphabetically by author, placed them on four shelves, and separated out the popular fiction series, like Goosebumps and The Babysitter's Club, and spread these out over two more shelves.  Still remaining to be sorted are the nonfiction books, i.e. biographies and science exploratory, as well as the first readers and beginning readers books.  The teachers' materials are almost completely grouped on the high shelves, and the adult novels are sorted and alphabetized away from the students' reading materials.  Unfortunately, my time is running short, as school will close up for winter break after this Friday. 

At work today, I held a meeting on the adoption of the new Entrepreneurship initiative, which I will apparently not be writing the material for, as originally believed, but may in fact be co-facilitating.  I told my coworkers that I would "reluctantly" pick up class facilitating duties if there were no other feasible options, and apparently there weren't.  So, assuming NEDD, the Ministry of International Trade's National Enterprise Development Division and our collaborating nonprofit on island, does not have another arrangement in mind, I will pick up teaching duties early next year when we get an entrepreneurship course on the ground.  I also received some positive feedback for the Career Development Handbook I had been revising, and we discussed options and roadblocks to implementation of the program in secondary schools on island.

So while I am baffled at my school project by the sheer undertaking of a project meant for much more than one person, I am simultaneously encouraged by developing routes in my work projects.  It was especially heartening to discuss the possible implications of successful career development and small business development initiatives in the meeting this morning!  But at the same time, it is frustrating to consider the reality that there is currently no system, nor even constituents, who have a practical stake in the continued maintenance and upkeep of the school library.  So one of my jobs as a Peace Corps volunteer responsible for instituting sustainable changes will be to create an environment or artificial device to ensure that there is.

In other news, I won't be able to afford Christmas decorations this winter; instead, the lights at the top of this page will have to do.  In lieu of holiday adornments, I am making a conscious effort to invite a friend over for dinner about once a week to help stave off some of the loneliness.  What with work and school winding down for everyone, most PCVs' primary projects will be on hold for the better part of December, so I have had success at booking visitors for nights that I cook anyway.  And as anyone that knows me well remembers, I enjoy to host very much.  So in lieu of playing soccer or steel pan lessons right now (both of which, in time, I will pin down and fit in), I'm playing host.  That, of course, extends to anyone that's taking a vacation to the Eastern Caribbean this holiday season.  Just give me a heads-up!

Jon, I responded to your comment.  Sorry about the delay.

Hashing Out New Lessons

On Saturday I participated in the 1st Annual St. Kitts 5K Run & Family Walk for the support of the St. Christopher Children's Home!  I'll obtain some pictures and video from the event soon, so keep checking.  The scoop, though, is that I came in at 28:00 – a whole 4 minutes longer than I was shooting for.  So while I was disappointed with my performance, I still had lots of fun with fellow volunteers and the on-island running club that call themselves the Hash House Harriers, apparently an international known quantity.  Now known to me, as well.

I have a presentation to give on Tuesday; it's my assessment of a nonprofit here on island.  I was able to accrue tons of material, so my only real concern is keeping my time under 15 minutes.

A thought: I'm at that point where I'm starting to learn approximately one important new thing each day.  Whether it be about myself, the culture, the island, my job, or my circles of influence, I am taking in lots of data and, with clarity of mind, am able to infer the truth in the lesson.  More importantly, I am finding willing ears to share these occasional revelations with, a necessary means for me to obtain that clarity of thought.  So without making it sound too ethereal, I am grateful that God has put people in my path (host family, fellow volunteers, co-workers, PC staff) that are actively helping me adapt at an even quicker rate than I was before.  In summary, I guess you could say that I am gladly still on the upswing of the typical culture-shock wave. (Pun completely unintended.)
How about those Jackets?  Getting it done in the fourth quarter!

Finally, for your viewing delight, pictures of my host family:

Talk and Chalk, Chalk and Talk...

I am pleased to report that I had a very productive visit to my school attachment yesterday.  The principal and management staff had, in the two weeks I was absent, come up with three specific, long-term projects for me to work on: first, develop some low-cost math activities that engage the kids and reinforce the curriculum.  In fact, the title of this post is a reference to what the math teacher at school dispassionately called the current math activities that fit into the school's budget.  I recommended, in the interest of affordable materials, playing cards and origami activities, but will be developing other new ideas over the next few weeks.  Feel free to submit other ideas as well.  Second, to organize and somehow expand the students' library on-site.  Third, to introduce some new alternatives for after-school extracurricular activities.  At first blush, the last item sounds like a great opportunity to push an introductory chess program – but the sheer reality is, that's exactly what it would be: pushing.  Since the most important aspect of introducing a Peace Corps initiative is to be sure that the program is infused with self-sustaining elements, the better part of which is measured in community "buy-in," I have to defer to activities that have that wide acceptance built in.  And the best idea so far?  Music.  Specifically rhythm, soca, percussion, each of which I have some familiarity with.  So I'm starting to get excited about the idea of co-facilitating a youth rhythm band.

If there's anything I can say to reflect just how much more comfortable I've become with my surroundings in just the past week or two, I would.  I hitched my first lift with a coworker, I walked all the way to the last part of the island I had not been to, I got my ATM card validated, I ate lunch in the city on my own, I shipped a package from the post office.  Best of all, I ran into a coworker at the bank the other day, and there is no feeling like being spotted by a local friend and her feeling comfortable enough to stop me and say "hi."

There has been some mention of care packages sent my way, and the need for shipping info.  Let me first express my greatest thanks to those of you considering remembering me in this way.  But if I could implore you into delaying your generosities for about a month, that would be far more ideal.  The reason is this: while I am staying with my host family, I have basically all of my immediate needs met: food, shelter, laundry, etc.  I am only wanting in cash resources, and that is as much a learning process in budgeting as anything else.  HOWEVER, by this time next month, my situation will have flipped 180 degrees, as I will be entrusted with a moving-in allowance from the Peace Corps to help with household appliances, food, and toiletries.  But even so, there will be a need for something, whether it is because I cannot find a particular commodity or just an affordable one.  For example, a simple stand-up fan, which would normally run $20-30 retail in the US, here is a mind-blowing EC$275, or USD 100.  So I will not know until then exactly what those needs will be, but I will be very forthcoming at that time.  Thank you all again.

Video.  So stop your clamoring for pics and check it out:

A Call From my APCD

Like my new header?  I love doing this kind of image manipulation - knowing me, I'll probably end up replacing it with a new picture every six months or so...

I received a call from the Assistant Peace Corps Director of St. Kitts this morning.  She had a few preliminary questions for me, and informed me of one of my assigned workplaces in St. Kitts: a youth skills training center.  I told her I had special interests in math and music education, and she seemed pleased by this.  I also added recreation; the guy in me is looking for any opportunity to kick around the soccer ball!

She also had some basic interview questions for me, two of which stood out.  The first was asking me to anticipate my biggest challenge, e.g. cultural interference, variant or unstructured work schedule, living in a remote/rural area, etc.  I explained that finding a balance between my future co-workers' expectations and my own expectations was my biggest concern, as I tend to be very goal oriented, even to the point of so-called tunnel vision, while I know the work culture in the EC is far more lax and fluid.  She pointed out that this is a very common concern and had two wise ways to overcome this: first, other volunteers will be there with me to share my frustrations, and second, focusing on building a relationship with those people I will be working with needs to be my focus for the first six months or so, rather than accomplishing things right off the bat.  I took the advice to heart, and will use it to moderate my own frustrations for the first quarter of my service.

The second question was whether I had a "creature comfort" or specific thing or ritual I couldn't live without.  I was caught off guard, because I had not stopped to think about it before, considering such thoughts futile at best.  So I said I had hoped to have semi-regular internet connectivity, and that maintaining contact via e-mail and this blog was important to me.  She laughed and called that a "given" rather than a luxury.  So I feel a little better about that now.  I'm getting more excited and anticipatory by the day now, a big step for me, who for several months went into interviews thinking, "I wonder what's going to go wrong about this one?"  Thanks again for everyone's love, support and prayers.

Anxieties and the Truth

Now that the news that I accepted the Peace Corps assignment has had time to get around, I have been approached by a handful of people the last few weeks telling me that I am an "inspiration" to them, citing my willingness to leave my home country and serve others despite my young age.  I have had to grapple with this notion, since it is in such stark contrast to my own perception of events.  I would be far less taken aback had people approached me and intoned that my choice to pursue this purported deviation from a strong career path was only natural in this tough economy, or some such mollification.  Heck, that's what I am often tempted to believe.

But the truth of the situation is slightly more profound.  I believe that God has led me to this point, has seen to every necessary step to put me in a position to set aside my own aspirations for two-and-a-quarter years and serve people I have never met in countries I have never been.  Every step, from watching my fiancée walk out on a future life with me, to being unemployed following school and wallowing through a job search that was drawn out to 18+ months, and even to seeking counseling for a mixture of anxieties that were causing some recurring failures and was, on the whole, debilitating.  God asked of me to suffer these trials simultaneously, all of which amounted to the lowest 7 months of my life.  With no income, I could not even hold on to the comfort or empowerment of being able to provide for myself, and was forced to bring my depression home to my family, the last place I wanted to find myself 8 months after graduating college.

Amidst all this negative sentiment, I was invited to a Peace Corps info session by a very good friend, and although I am often loathe to make spontaneous alterations to my plans, I found the fortitude of spirit to suck it up and go.  (The wise reader may correctly infer this as a nudge from the Holy Spirit, though I did not recognize it at the time.)  I chose to jump through the bureaucratic hoops in order to submit my application, despite already being dropped on my head by the National Security Agency already once.  I wasn't particularly inspired to see myself as a Peace Corps volunteer; frankly I just wanted to see what would happen, if they would even take me.  I had no such luck with a military officership, so I didn't have the highest hopes for this particular government recruiter either.

Even so, God turned a spur-of-the-moment decision, mixed with a lackluster interview, combined with an increased level of placement competition, and added a touch of bureaucratic ambiguity to make something special: a chance for me to drop all of my reasons for relying on my own strength and instead find my way back into His will.  The more I think about it, talk about it, and pray about it, the more I am convinced that this is indeed His will for my life at this moment.  That's an answer to prayer.  This revelation has taken time coming, and it wasn't always apparent – in the seven months I've been in the application process, not once did I feel God speaking to me with the words, "Go here, this is what I want you to do." I just took one step at a time, not even in faith as much as mundane curiosity.  But God was there, at work around me, as we know he always is.  This was just another opportunity for me to learn yet another way that God reveals Himself in my life: as the river between the stepping stones – behind me, going ahead of me, all around me.