Saturday/Sunday

You know that you’re adjusting to life in the Peace Corps when you discover that your 60 pack of Eclipse gum has spilled in the bottom of your bag and you decide to eat the giant glob that has formed, despite the visible dirt, and put the rest of the pieces back into the container for later consumption. Hey, good gum is hard to come by over here and you’d want to kill all the bacteria in your mouth that you could if you were in this country too.

Tonight’s blog post will include responses to questions and texts that I have received so far. I plan on buying some air-o-grams, probably spelled wrong, but basically a little pre-stamped envelope that I can write on the inside and seal and send to the states before I leave Bafia.  So leave a comment, e-mail, facebook message with your address if you think that you would enjoy reading my chicken scratch. I can’t promise that I will be able to accommodate everyone if I get a ton of requests, but I will do my best to get one out to you if funds will allow. If not now, then sometime during my service. 

Aunt Kathi- You win the porcupine dinner if you ever find yourself in Cameroon for sending me three letters. It always makes me feel good to get a letter handed to me from home J. My French is improving, but I definitely still have a long way to go. I get frustrated a lot with my progress, but am trying to keep in perspective and think how much better I am then when I entered Cameroon. So glad that you joined Facebook and we have a way to keep in touch a little more quickly than snail mail. Speaking of which there are a lot of snails crawling around over here. I expected lions and elephants and giraffes, but didn’t think I’d encounter so many snails. It’s not as crazy hot and humid like my forecast says it is for Bucyrus, but it’s still pretty damn hot here. Humid, but not unbearable. Don’t worry about not getting the water purification kit, that was one of the things we got before coming to Bafia and it has been working fine so far. Should probably clean that bad lad pretty soon though the top level is getting kind of gross. Your 2^nd letter pretty much predicted the beach house so maybe the big guy upstairs is still listening. In that case, keep the prayers and good vibes coming my way! Loved the doodles and the stories from the roadside rest. Some of the other workers warned me about Tammy when I first got back to working at Waycraft in March, but we got along great. I could tell she was a lady that I didn’t want to piss off and was glad to have her on my side. Tell Grandma that if she wants to write me that I would love to receive it. I am homesick and I don’t know if that will ever cease, but I think that it won’t be so strong over time here. Every time I get a letter it is bittersweet. It makes me miss home and the people that I love, but at the same time I love hearing from you guys and would much rather have that bittersweet feeling than no letters at all. I got kind of upset after I talked to her with Mom and Dad just because it was the first time I had gotten to talk to her since leaving and I realized how much I missed her. At the same time, it was so uplifting to be able to hear her voice and talk to her like I was only an hour away. She sounded really good and I definitely enjoyed being able to tell her about life in Cameroon even if it did tug on the heartstrings a bit. So keep on encouraging her to write me J. I was pretty happy to hear that you and Masa got to hang out for a bit, talk, and make sure the air was clear. He’s one of my very best friends and I’m really hoping things work out for him. If anybody deserves it, it’s him. I’m gonna feel helpless over here if something happens with his living situation before I return, but just trying to stay positive about the situation. Thanks for the kind words about the blog, I get it from my mama! Thank you again for keeping the communication up from back home. Don’t feel like you have to keep cranking out the letters if time or funds don’t allow. Just wanted you to know how much I appreciated it. Love and miss ya Aunt Kathi!

Aunt Lori- Hunter sounds like he has a pretty full schedule with basketball, tennis, swimming, and hanging out with his buds. The card made me chuckle. Wow, it really is hot there! I don’t think we’ve hit 118, but I know the heat gets a lot worse during dry season. The northern part of the country also is a lot hotter than the rest, but I’ve been told by multiple Volunteers that Edea gets pretty toasty too. Good thing I’m so close to the beach! I really enjoyed Hunter’s letter as well. To answer his questions: I am doing pretty well over here. It is quite the adjustment from America, but I am trying to take it all in and enjoy the moment. I can’t believe you are already going into the 3^rd grade! I’ve got some pictures in my photo album from when you were a rugrat still. The joke made me laugh out loud and I will now share it so the rest of my blog can enjoy:

Why was Tigger’s head in the toilet? He was looking for Pooh! HAHAHA 

Nicole, the Winnie Pooh lover of my fam, should definitely get a kick out of that. Thank you guys for writing me, I really enjoyed reading your letters. Tell Gary my golf game will be way worse when I get back so expect some long rounds. Love and miss you Morrows!

Aunt Patti- The story about Ellie reaching out for the other little boy swimmers was hilarious. These are the stories that I need to hear to keep a smile on my face over here when times are tough. Heard you sent out my care package this weekend so thank you very much for that! Wouldn’t be able to make it over here without my support system back home. Loved seeing the picture of Grandma and you guys with little Eve and the Moosketeers. Another trainee saw the first Moose picture and remarked how awesome it was that you guys did that. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’ll put my family up against anybody else’s. Teaching in a foreign language is extremely hard, but I’m trying to make the best of it. I don’t have a problem using simple sentences and tenses, but the vocabulary for teaching computers doesn’t really allow for that so that is what makes it so hard. Right now I’m attempting to teach binary, i.e. how a computer thinks in 1’s and 0’s, which I barely understand in English let alone French. Oh well, I try my best and that’s all I can do. It’s pretty hard to control my classes, but I remember what it was like to be a kid and I try not to get too frustrated. I only have two more weeks with them anyways so I can make that with my eyes closed. The last day is exam day too so it is actually less than two weeks. Yes, I’m counting the days J. Happy anniversary to you and Uncle Trev next weekend if I don’t get a chance to congratulate you before! Thank you again for sending me a care package. I’m sure I will be thrilled to receive all the goodies packed inside and thank you for the last minute sunglasses addition. Love and miss all of the Zaharas, Uhers, and Arnolds! (Reverse alphabetical as I’m sure you Zaharas are sick of having to wait til the end to hear your name called. Megan got a bump to the front of the line :p)

Bro- Yep, I’m moving to Edea sometime at the end of August. If I pass my language test next weekend I should be moving sometime right around the 17^th, but if I don’t pass it will be more towards the end of the month. Hoping I don’t have to be stuck here while everyone else gets to swear in, but if I have to spend an extra two weeks of preparation in French it won’t be the end of the world. I could probably actually use the extra two weeks. French newspaper is a good idea, I’m just not sure where to find them here. Seems like they use newspaper more for wrapping baguettes than actually reading them.  I have never seen any at the supermarket, but it might be easier to find French papers in a bigger city like Edea. I agree that seeing the words makes it easier to pronounce and comprehend than just hearing the world orally. I have told my language trainers that I am a visual learner and need to see the word in order to remember it. For your market question, I will refer you to the previous post. We didn’t spend too much time looking at each individual seller since we were on a very important chicken mission, but the whole scene was chaos. Somebody was making something that smelled just like funnel cakes/elephant ears though and I’m pretty sure I started drooling. I am going to try and take some pictures of the market when I get to Edea to show you all back home because me describing a day at the market won’t do it justice. Luckily, one of the main markets is right outside my school so I can grab some goodies before or after class. Some smaller village posts only have a weekly market, but I am fortunate enough to have a market every day. Don’t worry about sending any ps2 games, the PCV before me left me a ton, including NCAA 07 which I was pretty stoked to find, and I want to try and spend most of my down time trying to finally get the six-string under my belt. But I appreciate the offer nonetheless. I’m missing you and the fam and look forward to getting my own Internet at post so we can Skype from time to time. Love and miss ya bro, give the kids a kiss from Uncle Max and Brit a hug!

Grandpa Ron- Don’t worry about not writing me before, I have been very busy over here and will probably have to cut back on the blogging if I don’t make my language level next weekend to study my French even more. Loved reading about how you had to carry water in from the well outside. 50 years later our lives sound quite similar in that regard. Thank you for the prayers and for writing me. I tell a lot of people over here about how much fun I had working the farmer’s market with you the past summer. Sad that I won’t be able to help you for awhile, but hopefully when I get back I can finally come see the little farm up in Amish country. Love and miss ya Grandpa!

Don’t feel bad if you were planning on writing and haven’t yet. I have 25+ months yet so there is plenty of time for that! And I know that you all are just as busy back in the states as I am here. Yeseterday, the cylinder of my door lock came off in the morning, but it’s been fixed so I am safe and secure again. I’m also pretty sure that I ate a fish eyeball at lunch. I didn’t really see it until the fork was about to enter my mouth and something was staring at me. At least it didn’t wink.

I got to Skype with Mom and Dad yesterday for about 40 minutes so that was great. Today, they have the kiddos so hopefully I will get to see my beautiful nieces and handsome nephew if the Internet will allow. I’ve been reading some Peace Corps material and it basically said that the days will surely seem to go slow overseas, but the entire experience goes by quicker than you can imagine. Granted, this is also from the people that want Volunteers to complete their entire term of service, but the message makes sense. High school graduation was five years ago and it feels like yesterday. It seems like such a long time right now, but that is just because I’m so close to the starting line. I am trying to make a conscious effort to take everything in and experience as much as I can during this journey of cultural exchange and self-discovery. Besides, being negative never got anybody anywhere right? The next will come, so enjoy the now. 

MMM

Friday, July 22, 2011

Most fun I’ve had in Bafia? That would be chasing a chicken around with other trainees and our favorite little adolescent bartender. 

It started the previous Saturday when Dan, Christian, and I were grabbing a midday brew before the party we were having for the trainees with July birthdays. We saw Simon, the adolescent bartender at the outdoor bar we frequent, doing laps around the house trying to catch this rooster. Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was his ear-to-ear grin, but we decided to join in on the excursion. The three of us weren’t really sure if he was trying to catch the chicken to eat it or just for fun. This lead to some confusion when we finally did get it cornered. I had a plastic chair that I was willing to club it in the head with, but thought I should make sure I knew the objective before I started swinging like the Big Bambino. We never were able to corral it that Saturday, but laughed at the hilarity of a bunch of le blancs chasing this chicken around the bar.

Fast forward to Monday, maybe Tuesday. There were a lot more of us at the bar and Simon was back at it. We recruited a few more trainees and found out that he was trying to catch it to eat it. He also specifically wanted this rooster and not the other chickens promenading around. We managed to chase it until it flew into a tree. If you’re confused, so was I when I saw the chickens flying into the trees here. Only in Cameroon. I digress…Simon, being the all around hero that he is, climbed into the tree and chased it down. This lead to some more failed attempts by trainees at trapping Mr. Rooster. He lost us for a little while in the corn next to the bar. We flushed him out, Simon made a valiant attempt and dove for him, but he flew to the top of the latrine wall. Christian went to knock him into the latrine, but he flew on the roof. Most of us thought the outing stopped here. Not so fast, mes amis. 

Next thing we know, Simon is climbing the tree behind the bar and walking across the roof. He pointed him out to us, we chased the rooster aimlessly for a little while longer, and he headed back for the corn ”field”. We spread out and found him hiding under a log. We finally coordinated our efforts to try and flush him in a certain direction. He ran from the log, but he stopped soon under some more foliage. Next thing we know one of the neighborhood kids has also joined the hunt and goes blasting through the corn stalks after the rooster. This seems like a futile attempt, but next thing we know the freakin’ kid has him trapped in the small cooking shack used by Simon’s family and comes out holding the PO’d bird by the wings. I swear we had chased this thing around for like a half hour and this kid joins for three minutes and catches it. Apparently it wasn’t his first chicken chase.

Yesterday, at the request of multiple trainees, Simon waited until we were done with classes and sessions to kill the rooster. We took some before and after pics with the rooster and Simon. It’s a wee bit morbid, but we kind of need to desensitize ourselves to this kind of thing here. And it was surprisingly less gruesome and bloody than I had imagined. The chicken’s body shuddered a lot after the head was cut off, but Simon didn’t let it run around like the stories Dad has told me about. I felt bad for the little guy, but hey people gotta eat right? 

Today, a few of us decided we should buy a gift for one of the trainee’s dads for letting us have people over to hang out and listen to music. What better gift than a live chicken? With none of us knowing how or where to buy a live chicken, we were off. We headed to centre ville because John Jack wanted to buy an authentic Randy Moss Vikings jersey from his first go around in Minnesota. Yeah, only 10 bucks for an authentic jersey in Cameroon. We also saw a sewn red and blue Redskins jersey that looked like somebody had made a big booboo in the NFL Shop tailoring department. Probably why it ended up in Africa. After confusing the shop owner when he thought we asked him where we could buy pull over sweaters, we found out we could go to the big market to find a live chicken.

We walked for at least 25 minutes until we finally found the market. Matt got hugged along the way by a guy we had seen at the training house before, but had no clue who he actually was. I can’t even begin to describe to you what the market was like because there is nothing back home that I can compare it to. I will just say that it was chaos jammed into a few thousand square feet. I have no idea how close that estimation is by the way. We asked a guy selling popcorn where we could get some live chickens. He pointed us along the path we were going, but told us to watch out for thieves. It was kind of assumed by us we were targets since wherever we walked people stopped what they were doing to catch a glimpse of the whiteys at the market. We came to a fork in the road and again asked for directions to the live chickens. Some girls pointed us to the right and we trusted their word because really what was the other option? Luckily, we came across a teen pushing a long a cart with a box/crate/chicken holder thing on top. He told us it would be 3000 CEFA, which we found out was a good buy from a host brother and translated to 600 a person, so we were in. None of us really know what was about to follow in our first chicken transaction.

First, he pulled out two chickens by their feet and we told him we only wanted one, but we found out he was giving us the option of selecting our chicken from the two. We pretty much went with the one in the hand closest to us. Nobody really made any sudden moves to be the coveted chicken holder, but Matt took one for the team and grabbed it by the feet. This thing squawked and arched its back to try and get its head close enough to tear off some of Matt’s flesh. At least, that’s how I interpreted it. With chicken in hand, we left the market to grab some motos back to the center of town. I wish I had brought my camera to take pictures of all of us riding two motos and Matt riding with a chicken in his extended hand. Christian also took a turn for the second leg of the trip and it seemed to have a lot more spunk than during Matt’s ride. Now chickens or trainees were harmed in the making of this chronicle.

The dad was very happy to receive the cadeux (gift). I’m pretty he said that it was a very large and nice looking chicken, but I’ve been known to comprehend French incorrectly before. He seemed genuinely happy that we had given him the chicken gift and told us that we were a part of his family. And the Friday just kept getting better.

We decided to join our other trainees for a nightcap and to fill them in on our dangerous voyage to underground chicken market. When we arrived, Simon and his brother said they had something to show us. We thought they were about to off another chicken, but it was actually to show us the pot that was boiling filled with the rooster, potatoes, and veggies. They told us that they were going to give us some when we were done. We assumed that we would just walk over for a piece or two so the twenty or so other trainees wouldn’t be salty they didn’t get any of the captured cock. They seriously gave us a giant platter filled with food. There wasn’t enough chicken for everybody, but there was a ton of potatoes and it was cooked in this amazing seasoned sauce. It was the perfect amount of spice. They even gave us some plates and silverware for all of us to use. 

The hospitality of the Cameroonian people continues to amaze me every day. They are so welcoming to all of us. Yes, we helped in the chase, but they didn’t have to give us any of the food and especially not a platter full to try and feed all of us at the bar. It also was some of the best potatoes and chicken I’ve had in a long time. Could also be that you appreciate every good meal you have that much more here, but I can only decide on that after spending some more time in country. Speaking of which, I’ve survive the first 50 days of my Peace Corps experience. It may not seem like much to you, but I have to set goals in small increments here for my mental health, among other things. Hope all you lovely people are doing well back home and I can chat with a few of you online this weekend.

R.I.P The Bird Formerly Known As The Rooster

MMM

Friday, July 15, 2011

I survived the first week of model school. Barely, but it still counts. I can’t tell you how appreciative and thankful I am for the teachers I had in my life after going through this week. I’ve never had the urge to beat a child until my pitiful attempt at teaching computers in French. Don’t worry no punches thrown. Even though I doubt any of you read this blog, I’d like to take the time to thank all of the teachers I have had from preschool to college. In fact I think I’ll take the time to write a little bit about each. Oh you don’t like that idea? Well too bad because this is my blog. Without further adieu:

Preschool; Mrs. Light- I can’t remember much about this time period, but I’ve seen the pictures and know I rocked a mullet with a yellow turtleneck and plaid pants. Thank you for not judging my fashion sense and teaching me “Big Black Cat.”

Kindergarten; Mrs. Widman- I advanced to the land of finger paints, milk pouches and story time. Thank you for putting up with us while we probably sat in tiny chairs and caused a ruckus.

1^st Grade; Mrs. Wisda- You used to fall asleep a lot during class and after creating lesson plans for class I can see why. You were very kind even to the point where I graduated high school. I hope that I still feel warm and cuddly towards these kids after four weeks. Probably not.

2^nd Grade; Mrs. Radke- Not gonna lie, I thought Mrs. Hoffman was a babe and was pretty bummed when I found out they were splitting our class up and I didn’t get her class. Nevertheless, at least you put your genius son in the other class so I could still feel like I had some intelligence in our class. You are the principal of HTS now and my cousins go there so if you happen to read this, try not to take it out on them. I’ll be back in two years and you can rage on me all you want. I’ll probably cuss you out in some Cameroonian village language and we’ll both feel better.

3^rd Grade; Mrs. Garrett- I don’t remember much about this grade except that I know I got my first C in your class. Thank you for bringing me back down to earth and not living in the world of perpetual brown nosers. No one likes a know-it-all.

4^th Grade; Mrs. Shirley- You were really tall and I kind of remember having a crush on you at that age. Probably a good thing you went to Galion before things got weird. I can also remember you being extremely nice so I need to remember your patience in class next week. 

5^th Grade; Mrs. Blue- I won’t slander you all across the Internet, but I don’t think that you were very nice to us and I am entitled to that opinion. You made my dad cut my bangs. After the mullet, it was probably the worst haircut besides when I decided to cut my own bangs. In fact, it kind of looked like that. Still love ya Dad, even if you can’t cut hair ;).

6^th Grade; Mrs. Faulds- Again, I have more bad things to say then good, but I won’t make you an overnight sensation (since I’m sure Entertainment Tonight is checking my blog for updates). I do know, however, that you not only threatened to mow our class down with a machine gun, but also that you would beat us with one of our classmates’ crutches. And you wonder why us Catholic school kids are so warped.

7^th Grade; Ms. Heckert- I don’t have much to complain about you and the only thing that sticks out in my mind is when Ian threw his rocket and it drilled you right in the chest. Bad move on his part, but maybe even worse that you allowed us to put makeup on him and walk him around the entire school. Again, are you trying to create sociopaths? Luckily, Ian turned out to be a pretty cool dude and I hope to catch a Two Cow Garage show with him when I return stateside. I’m also gonna make a special amendment and add that my 7^th grade basketball coach, Joe Williams, made a big impression in my life that year as well. I wore high red socks and I was as uncoordinated as a teenager could be, but you believed in me on the court and I probably never told you how much that meant to me. You worked with me on my clumsy hands, you taught me to use my giant feet to my advantage, and I went from being allowed one dribble to bringing it up from half court. You didn’t want me to go to the middle school because you knew that the potential to fall into a bad crowd was there. You are gone now, but never forgotten Joe. I always enjoyed getting to talk with you even after I graduated and I’ve even got to play against Toad in a few open gyms this past summer. I promise that if he is still in Bucyrus when I return I will work with him on his game and try to help him through the difficult transition of adolescence. I owe you at least that much.

8^th Grade; Multiple teachers- This was the year I went from Holy Trinity to public school, Bucyrus Middle School. I still stayed close with my HTS buddies, but I was probably already closer with my dudes at BMS. A few guys even followed me from HTS to “the sin bin” as Joe affectionately called it. There isn’t a single teacher that sticks out to me, but I know for a fact that this is where I began forming the friendships that will last a lifetime for me. Tizzle and I were finally in the same grade since they decided to redshirt him for his academic prowess despite his exceptional grades in class ;). Masa and I met in 7^th grade at football camp and the CC fair with Powers, and we became best friends this year. I grew up with Powers on Spring St. and Dunford through minor league baseball and our family being friends and I was reunited with both at BMS. Rebon was my inside linebacker bash brother and I have a line that I love to say about Rebon, but Grandma reads these blogs so I’ll just say that I would trust Rebon alone with any girl I was with, no questions asked. C-Gull, Phildough, the list goes on and on…I’m sure there are many left out, but this headlamp is starting to get tight on the ol’ noggin’.

High school; Mrs. Fischer, Mrs. Hamm, Frenchie, Funi- You guys were the four teachers that stuck out in my mind about high school. Fee you opened my horizons to appreciating other cultures and realizing that there is a gigantic world beyond the limits of Crawford County. Mrs. Hamm, we were all little jerks to you and I can’t even pretend to imagine how you put up with us. I will think of you when I can’t stand my teenage class that I am currently teaching. Frenchie, my French is still pretty awful and I apologize for copying off Allie in class to get a passing grade and not paying more attention. I also find it pretty crazy that you also looked into the Peace Corps and even offered a spot in Francophone Africa. Funi, you let me realize that education doesn’t have to be so cut and dry and that you can actually enjoy class projects and interactive participation. I’m pretty sure I only have two to three computers at post, but will try and make the most of it.

College; Mr. Moe,Video Games Professor, and History of Rock N’ Roll Professor- I never really got close to any of my college professors, but Professor Moe might have been the closest. I was at a time in my life when all I wanted to do was get out of Bucyrus, OH, and you made me realize all the qualities that I despised about Bucyrus, but also all of the things that made it so damn amazing to me. I find this reflection hilarious now as I sit here in bed at times and just wish I was back home with my parents in my small town. Ridiculous how perspective works isn’t it? To Video Games Professor and History of Rock N’ Roll Professor: You are basically the same person, but you let me see that it is possible to do what you love and to turn others on to it. I might not know what I want to do after Peace Corps, but I’ll be damned if it’s going to be something where I hate waking up every morning to go to a place I can’t stand to be at.

I’m sorry if that bored you all, but I felt like I had to get it off my chest after the week I have just had. The week definitely got better from the first day of teaching, but I still feel like I’m a pretty crappy teacher. I think it is just a lot of frustration on both sides from the lack of communication. I don’t speak French well and they can’t understand me. They ask questions and I can’t understand them. Only three more weeks, a grain of sand on the beach that is time.

We had an interesting talk tonight among the few trainees at the cold bar beer. We talked about how your level of success in the states is directly correlated to the amount of money you make and how people perceive you. I’ve debated this point with my friends countless times. I understand that it is hard to be happy when you are scrounging pennies for your next meal. All I am saying is that the amount of money you have does not translate to the amount of happiness you receive from life. Sure you can buy nice things and treat yourself to facials made from gold flecks, but are you truly happy? I know for a fact that all I need in this life are my friends, family, and a job consistent enough to put a roof over my head and food on the table. Down the road I’d like to start a family and find a woman as weird as me, but if it doesn’t happen I’d say I’ve been truly blessed regardless. I miss you all back home, but am enjoying finding myself in another world and adapting to my surroundings. We’re having a July birthday party tomorrow so I will drink one for you Mamacita.

Hope you can feel the love from here,

MMM

Wednesday, July 13th, 2011

First and foremost, happy birthday to the most amazing mother a man could ask for, the infamous Lisa Miller! A day doesn’t go by when I don’t think about you over here and I hope that your day was as wonderful as you. I am sad that I missed spending today with you, but to look at the glass half full, next year I will be coming home in a year and the year after I will be home the next month so try to look at it like that. I am looking forward to talking to you on the phone when you call in about a half hour.

A lot has happened in the last two weeks after site visit. We went through mountain bike training and now have our TREK mountain bikes. Model school has officially started. It’s basically a summer school that we get to hone our teaching skills in before heading to post. The first week we just observed classrooms that other Volunteers and trainers were teaching to see classroom management skills, pace, etc. Once week two hit, we would be the teachers. In other words, baptism by fire. The principal literally said that to us on our first day of teaching, in French of course. And since I’m going to a Francophone region guess which language I’ll be teaching in?

I could vent for awhile about teaching already and I’ve only had four periods. It’s hard enough to be teaching for your first time, but when you have to do it in a language that you aren’t all that comfortable with yet it ups the degree of difficulty by about 1000%. I’m basically just reading out of a textbook that the head of the ICT dept has put together, in badly pronounced French of course. My language teacher said to use simple phrases, but that isn’t really possible when you’re using computer vocabulary. The first day was a lot worse than the second, but that was mainly due to the fact that one of my classes kept calling me le blanc instead of Mr. Miller. I’ve reflected on it since though and besides the le blanc comments they really weren’t that bad. I was just the teacher that I hated in college, who was foreign and had a very hard to understand accent so you could barely tell what they were trying to teach you. I think both sides are just frustrated because of a lack of communication. And you feel pretty horrible as a teacher when the student asks a question and you don’t even know what he/she is asking. I’m trying to stay optimistic, but it’s hard. We also don’t have enough computers for everyone and only get one hour a week in the computer lab so I’m not sure how much I am actually going to be able to teach these kids about using computers. I can teach them computer theory for three hours a week, but how is that going to help them actually use a computer? Starting to get negative so I’ll just end that thought.

As most of you saw on Facebook, I managed to lose not just one bucket, but two in the well on Sunday. The rope slipped out of my hand on the first and it was my fellow trainee and neighbor Sterling’s so I felt pretty bad about it. I fashioned my own rope to my bucket and told her that I would fill her buckets with mine. After about one or two dips, the handle came off and my bucket decided to join hers. A neighborhood kid has since shimmied down the well and retrieved Sterling’s, but our bucket remains AWOL. I’m putting it on the milk cartons next week, oh wait we only have powdered milk here.

EDIT: This morning I found my handle-less bucket lying next to the well. All is right in the world.

So there is a mouse in my room. For the first month when I would lock my door at night there would be something pushing from the outside and there would be wood shavings outside my door in the mornings. When I asked my host brother about it he said it was la souris (the mouse) trying to get in. Sometime after that I started hearing weird noises throughout the night and was convinced he had gotten in. Well, I found the little sucker yesterday hiding behind my water jugs. I went to grab a shoe and in the split second that took he was off to a different part of my room. My room isn’t very big so I looked for him for awhile but he was dodging me pretty good. No wonder Jerry was always smarter than Tom.

Heard him again tonight by the giant bag of rice I still have from drying my electronics. I chased him to behind my hiking back and positioned myself for the strike. Moved my hiking bag and he jetted past me towards the corner yet again. Never could find him, but I just heard him back behind the water jugs. He’s really little so I don’t really want to kill him I just want to herd him out so he can bother somebody else. He seriously was knocking over empty water bottles last night and I pictured him sticking his tongue out at me while he did it.

Time for bed since I am going for a 6AM run tomorrow. Four more classes and the week is over. We are having a party for the July birthdays this Saturday. Sunday we are supposed to be playing basketball against some Cameroonian students so that should be fun/interesting. Hope to catch up with some of you on the Interweb this weekend. 

Stay classy

MMM