The absence of blog entries has not been due to a lack of motivation or activities, but rather the lack of Internet access. If there's one thing I've learned in the last three months, it is that things are MUCH slower. So, you just breathe, take it all in, and realize that things will come, but in their own time. So, four weeks since I turned in my Internet application, I am breathing and trying to take it all in. It will come. I will skype soon (let's hope..)
These past couple of weeks have been full of firsts. My first trip to Bequia (the neighboring Grenadine island) for nation's Independence Day celebration. My first lesson in whining (the type of dancing they do here). My first scorpion sting. And my first volleyball match since my last knee surgery.
Then there were more meaningful firsts...
My first house. I don't share it with anyone and my parents aren't putting money into my account to pay for it. This is finally MY house. After three days of cleaning out the spider webs (many have reappeared), bleaching the floors and purchasing a much needed fan, I can finally call it home. It's pretty big--two feasible bedrooms, one bath--but the one aspect worth noting is the porch. The front porch looks out onto the beach and the back porch looks out onto the mountains. There is a huge garden with mango trees, plantain trees, avocado, peas, sugar apple and corn. I am also trying to grow several things myself, but I highly doubt these will sustain.
My first dog. I have had plenty of dogs running around my house growing up, but raising a puppy that has been weened from its mother too young, that's a whole different story. She poops where she shouldn't, cries uncontrollably, chews up the one pair of sandals I actually brought here and has worms. Yes, people, she has worms. Worms that land on my kitchen floor while she's pooping where she shouldn't be. I haven't been able to eat ramon noodles since. Oh, and I named her Luda after Ludacris. Gotta rep the A.
My first photo shoot. When one of my friends said he needed a white girl for his AIDS awareness campaign, I hopped right on board. I had no idea it was an actual advertised campaign for the AIDS Secretariat here in St. Vincent. I thought I was just going to get to dress up in heavy makeup and have someone straighten my hair. So, if you can imagine me, a 6'0" 155 lb white girl, standing next to 5'10" 110 lb beautiful black models, I looked a tad out of place. And 175 shots later..I still looked out of place. I begged the director to take me out of the shot, but he kept saying I added 'ethnic flair.' That's another first--never before have I added ethnic flair.
My first teaching job. As an advertising and graphic design major, you'd think I would have been aware of my lack in teaching skills. But instead, I plunged head first into a classroom full of misbehaving, ill-mannered and completely uncontrollable third, forth and fifth graders...all without a lesson plan or classroom management skills. But that was two weeks ago and I am starting to get the hang of it. The kids still say 'hey whitey', but that's better then 'hey sexy biatch.' Next week I'm aiming for 'hey miss'. Baby steps.
So far things have been good. My emotions are about as predictable as the public transportation system here--but me and Deepak are working on that (my emotions, that is). I have 'I can't believe I'm here' moments and 'I wish I was there' moments as well. But I guess it all comes with the territory. So for now I'm just breathing and taking it all in.
And even though I'm not in America and still had to go to work today, I want to thank our veterans, especially my family members and friends.
The price of greatness is responsibility--Winston Churchill
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
You can do it, put your back into it
An Independent’s View
I have to say that I was a bit shocked when they awarded the Nobel Peace Prize to Obama. He tends to fall far too left for me to ever give him my full support, but I do think he is a good man. A good man with lofty promises. That, too me, is not what the Nobel Peace Prize stands for.
We are too great of a nation and too big of a world to measure someone on their promises. Just eleven days after Obama was inaugurated, the nominations for the Nobel Peace Prize were closed. Just eleven days. Then, and even now, most of what we have is his intentions. He promises to end the war in Iraq; however, if you live close to Ft. Benning, Ga, you know more troops are sent there every three months. He promises to shut down Guantanamo Bay, but continues to reassign more people. He promises to give the nation healthcare, but politics and hidden agendas have tied him up in Congress.
None of the above mentioned should be accomplished already in terms of a President who has been in office for such a short time. But for a Nobel Peace winner, I think at least one should have happened before an award was even discussed on his behalf.
Roosevelt was honored with the award for brokering an agreement between Russia and Japan. Woodrow Wilson took the award for his role in ending WWI and creating the League of Nations. Obama won the award for promising the world a better America.
Lofty promises lead to disappointment. Lofty promises carrying this much clout---lead to disaster.
Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both. -Benjamin Franklin
I have to say that I was a bit shocked when they awarded the Nobel Peace Prize to Obama. He tends to fall far too left for me to ever give him my full support, but I do think he is a good man. A good man with lofty promises. That, too me, is not what the Nobel Peace Prize stands for.
We are too great of a nation and too big of a world to measure someone on their promises. Just eleven days after Obama was inaugurated, the nominations for the Nobel Peace Prize were closed. Just eleven days. Then, and even now, most of what we have is his intentions. He promises to end the war in Iraq; however, if you live close to Ft. Benning, Ga, you know more troops are sent there every three months. He promises to shut down Guantanamo Bay, but continues to reassign more people. He promises to give the nation healthcare, but politics and hidden agendas have tied him up in Congress.
None of the above mentioned should be accomplished already in terms of a President who has been in office for such a short time. But for a Nobel Peace winner, I think at least one should have happened before an award was even discussed on his behalf.
Roosevelt was honored with the award for brokering an agreement between Russia and Japan. Woodrow Wilson took the award for his role in ending WWI and creating the League of Nations. Obama won the award for promising the world a better America.
Lofty promises lead to disappointment. Lofty promises carrying this much clout---lead to disaster.
Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both. -Benjamin Franklin
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Well we are all golden here
This might come as a shock to those reading this---but I am quite dramatic. So, when I was hovering over the toilet at 3am as the water in my house simultaneously stopped dripping out of the faucet three days ago, let's just say, the next day I made sure everyone knew what kind of disastrous condition I was in.
Also another very astute observation--I think I'm a badass. (Sorry for the language, Mom, but it was the only word that was appropriate). This, in itself, landed me in the mess I was in at 3 am. It all started last Saturday, when a volunteer asked me to go hiking in the Vermont Nature Trails with her. These are trails maintained by the Ministry of Forestry within St. Vincent's rainforest. While we were hiking, dismissing the previous water safety training administered to us two weeks ago, I decided to fill my water bottle with river water coming down the mountain. Did anyone else in my group think this was a good idea? No. But my underlying desire to prove that rules (and common water safety knowledge) do not apply to me took over and I filled my big jug of water up...twice.
It only took 17 hours for whatever was in that water to make it through my system. And little did I know it would stay there for the next three days. The pains were so bad, it caused me to leave a beer unfinished and a political rally mid-scream. This was getting serious.
Finally, I had made it home without any embarrassing mishaps. I dove into my bed, thinking the worst was over.
Three o'clock in the morning rolls around and my jaw starts to quiver. Saliva collects in the mouth and I know exactly what is about to happen. Those two beers and macaroni salad were coming back to haunt me. I bury my head in the toilet for the next twenty minutes (sorry for the graphics, Mom). As I reach up to flush the toilet, I realize the bathroom is missing something. The familiar drip from the faucet was replaced with an eerie silence. I pushed hard on the handle. Nothing. I turned the knob on the shower. Nothing. I run out to the kitchen to try the sink. Nothing. In normal stateside circumstances, I would have called my father, screaming at what a horrible circumstance I had gotten myself into and begging him to do whatever was in his power to circumvent it (ie my infamous tire fiasco of 2008). No such reaction would do this time.
In a very non Neely-esque way, I turned off the light in the bathroom and went to sleep. The water would surely be back on by morning.
If I had to predict what hell would be like, it would involve being sick with a water borne illness in a foreign country with no running water. Waking up to sweat-soaked sheets, chewing your advil because there's nothing to swallow it with, 3-day old sweat gluing your clothes to your skin, eating bread with dirty fingernails, waking up at 2 am and running out to the yard to use the restroom, waking up your neighbors because you're throwing up in the lawn so loudly, giving a presentation that determines whether you are sworn in as a volunteer or not with nappy, greasy hair, and of course, the over-dramatic email to home explaining how you're probably dying. Yes, this is definitely my hell.
But, I survived. I'm at the end of day three, fully bathed, drinking cold water and swating misquitoes away from my computer screen. I'd say things were back to normal. But, a cockroach just landed in my drink, so I'm going to go take care of that. This time I won't drink the water.
And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so? I did. And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth. " — Raymond Carver
Also another very astute observation--I think I'm a badass. (Sorry for the language, Mom, but it was the only word that was appropriate). This, in itself, landed me in the mess I was in at 3 am. It all started last Saturday, when a volunteer asked me to go hiking in the Vermont Nature Trails with her. These are trails maintained by the Ministry of Forestry within St. Vincent's rainforest. While we were hiking, dismissing the previous water safety training administered to us two weeks ago, I decided to fill my water bottle with river water coming down the mountain. Did anyone else in my group think this was a good idea? No. But my underlying desire to prove that rules (and common water safety knowledge) do not apply to me took over and I filled my big jug of water up...twice.
It only took 17 hours for whatever was in that water to make it through my system. And little did I know it would stay there for the next three days. The pains were so bad, it caused me to leave a beer unfinished and a political rally mid-scream. This was getting serious.
Finally, I had made it home without any embarrassing mishaps. I dove into my bed, thinking the worst was over.
Three o'clock in the morning rolls around and my jaw starts to quiver. Saliva collects in the mouth and I know exactly what is about to happen. Those two beers and macaroni salad were coming back to haunt me. I bury my head in the toilet for the next twenty minutes (sorry for the graphics, Mom). As I reach up to flush the toilet, I realize the bathroom is missing something. The familiar drip from the faucet was replaced with an eerie silence. I pushed hard on the handle. Nothing. I turned the knob on the shower. Nothing. I run out to the kitchen to try the sink. Nothing. In normal stateside circumstances, I would have called my father, screaming at what a horrible circumstance I had gotten myself into and begging him to do whatever was in his power to circumvent it (ie my infamous tire fiasco of 2008). No such reaction would do this time.
In a very non Neely-esque way, I turned off the light in the bathroom and went to sleep. The water would surely be back on by morning.
If I had to predict what hell would be like, it would involve being sick with a water borne illness in a foreign country with no running water. Waking up to sweat-soaked sheets, chewing your advil because there's nothing to swallow it with, 3-day old sweat gluing your clothes to your skin, eating bread with dirty fingernails, waking up at 2 am and running out to the yard to use the restroom, waking up your neighbors because you're throwing up in the lawn so loudly, giving a presentation that determines whether you are sworn in as a volunteer or not with nappy, greasy hair, and of course, the over-dramatic email to home explaining how you're probably dying. Yes, this is definitely my hell.
But, I survived. I'm at the end of day three, fully bathed, drinking cold water and swating misquitoes away from my computer screen. I'd say things were back to normal. But, a cockroach just landed in my drink, so I'm going to go take care of that. This time I won't drink the water.
And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so? I did. And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth. " — Raymond Carver
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
I'm down like the economy
One of my assignments while I'm here--clean up the beaches.
Cows on the beach. I prefer them on a bun--but this'll do.
I joined in a little later. Wasn't pretty.
The only reason why I haven't ET'ed. Just kidding, Mom.
Sarah and I at Villa Beach in St. Vincent.
Sunset in St. Vincent. So perfect."Kanye West is a jackass"-Barack Obama
(I paraphrased for emphasis)
(I paraphrased for emphasis)
Monday, September 28, 2009
I will play my games beneath the spin light
I am officially a month into my service here in St. Vincent--or Vincy. My lifestyle has dramatically changed in some ways and remained completely stagnant in others; however if you had asked me to predict the outcome of either, I would have been way off. My reliance on pop culture is waining, whereas my interest in politics is continuing to increase. I have learned to fully depend on people for certain things, such as a ride into town or food on the table, but have become self sufficient in other areas, such as braiding my hair (if you've ever lived with me..you know what a big deal this is.) Finding time to myself has become a constant, yet important, struggle; whereas I am finding it easier and easier to develop fascinating and forever evolving relationships. I have learned how to bite my tongue at differences but speak louder when boundaries are crossed. I've learned that just glancing at the ocean or a worn out note from an old friend can change the outcome of a day. And I've learned that there's something to be said about taking it slow--whether it be a relationship, a friendship, a job or just an unfamiliar situation.
I have been playing volleyball pretty regularly with some of the locals. They play shoeless on some of the hardest concrete I have ever stepped on. The experience has far exceeded the daily workout I anticipated. One of the other volunteers gave me a book about a volunteer in Africa and he explained my situation so brilliantly that I had never looked at it this way until I read it right off the pages. You come into the Peace Corps with the intention of learning how to live off of minimum wage, how to modestly conduct yourself for the next two years--only focusing on what you don't have. When, in actuality, the antithesis comes up and slaps you in the face when you're least expecting it. I never realized the men I played next to each night had no other choice--I thought they were just opting out of shoes. When I asked one of them why they didn't wear shoes, he looked at the ground, ashamed, and said 'I don't have any, miss.' In my mind, I couldn't fathom someone not having tennis shoes. And then it hit me. This isn't just about learning how to live without things--it's also about realizing just how much I do have. I might play volleyball on an uneven concrete court with only three balls for the next two years, but I will go home. I will go home to air conditioned gyms with brand new balls and perfect lighting. I will go home to a country where the majority of people have a job and a health care plan. I will go home to diversity and a melting pot of religions, ethnicity and backgrounds. But they will still be playing on that concrete court without any shoes.
Better to die standing, than to live on your knees--Ernesto 'Che' Guevara
I have been playing volleyball pretty regularly with some of the locals. They play shoeless on some of the hardest concrete I have ever stepped on. The experience has far exceeded the daily workout I anticipated. One of the other volunteers gave me a book about a volunteer in Africa and he explained my situation so brilliantly that I had never looked at it this way until I read it right off the pages. You come into the Peace Corps with the intention of learning how to live off of minimum wage, how to modestly conduct yourself for the next two years--only focusing on what you don't have. When, in actuality, the antithesis comes up and slaps you in the face when you're least expecting it. I never realized the men I played next to each night had no other choice--I thought they were just opting out of shoes. When I asked one of them why they didn't wear shoes, he looked at the ground, ashamed, and said 'I don't have any, miss.' In my mind, I couldn't fathom someone not having tennis shoes. And then it hit me. This isn't just about learning how to live without things--it's also about realizing just how much I do have. I might play volleyball on an uneven concrete court with only three balls for the next two years, but I will go home. I will go home to air conditioned gyms with brand new balls and perfect lighting. I will go home to a country where the majority of people have a job and a health care plan. I will go home to diversity and a melting pot of religions, ethnicity and backgrounds. But they will still be playing on that concrete court without any shoes.
Better to die standing, than to live on your knees--Ernesto 'Che' Guevara
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Whoop Whoop, chicken chicken. Whoop Whoop chicken head.
It has been over a week since I have started training in St. Vincent--two weeks since I started the Peace Corps. Everything is going relatively well..nothing too horrifying has happened yet. I have to travel pretty far for Internet access, which is why my contact with anyone in the states has been scarce.
My host family experience so far has been amazing. My host mom is the principal at a local school and an excellent cook. My favorites so far have been the fresh banana bread and cod fish (separately..of course). Most of what she cooks is extremely fresh and locally grown. I've heard she also makes delicious cakes--I'm looking forward to devouring those. I have also formed a good relationship with her niece. She is 17 and goes to one of the community colleges on the island. The first night in my homestay while sitting down to eat dinner with the rest of the family, I asked her what type of music she liked. When she responded 'Lil' Wayne' I immediately shouted 'SCHWING', while shooting my hand in the air for a high five. Everyone just stared at me, but she started laughing. We've been friends ever since.
I went to my worksite last week and have been in contact with the principal since then. I will be mainly focusing on remedial reading, but they also want me to start some after school sports teams, which I am so pumped about. However, there are many resource challenges that come with the project. They have a VERY limited supply of sporting equipment and hardly no areas to compete. And until I can figure out a way to combat these complications, I will just have to make due.
I have enjoyed my time with the other Peace Corps volunteers. This weekend I was able to visit 3 different beaches with various volunteers. I was also able to see the house I will be living in for the duration of my 2 years. It is absolutely beautiful! I cannot wait to have visitors :)
Church on Sunday went well. It is an integrated part of society and it was a good experience to see how they conduct their worship services. For some reason Sunday made me the most homesick. Once Church was over, all I wanted to do was eat one of my Dad's elaborate Sunday breakfasts and watch golf. Although neither was possible, it was still good to be able to relax at my homestay.
Yesterday a man came up to me and asked me if misquitoes had bitten my face. I guess I need to get some acne medication.
On that note, I'm going to head back to my village. I'll let you know how the acne thing works out.
My host family experience so far has been amazing. My host mom is the principal at a local school and an excellent cook. My favorites so far have been the fresh banana bread and cod fish (separately..of course). Most of what she cooks is extremely fresh and locally grown. I've heard she also makes delicious cakes--I'm looking forward to devouring those. I have also formed a good relationship with her niece. She is 17 and goes to one of the community colleges on the island. The first night in my homestay while sitting down to eat dinner with the rest of the family, I asked her what type of music she liked. When she responded 'Lil' Wayne' I immediately shouted 'SCHWING', while shooting my hand in the air for a high five. Everyone just stared at me, but she started laughing. We've been friends ever since.
I went to my worksite last week and have been in contact with the principal since then. I will be mainly focusing on remedial reading, but they also want me to start some after school sports teams, which I am so pumped about. However, there are many resource challenges that come with the project. They have a VERY limited supply of sporting equipment and hardly no areas to compete. And until I can figure out a way to combat these complications, I will just have to make due.
I have enjoyed my time with the other Peace Corps volunteers. This weekend I was able to visit 3 different beaches with various volunteers. I was also able to see the house I will be living in for the duration of my 2 years. It is absolutely beautiful! I cannot wait to have visitors :)
Church on Sunday went well. It is an integrated part of society and it was a good experience to see how they conduct their worship services. For some reason Sunday made me the most homesick. Once Church was over, all I wanted to do was eat one of my Dad's elaborate Sunday breakfasts and watch golf. Although neither was possible, it was still good to be able to relax at my homestay.
Yesterday a man came up to me and asked me if misquitoes had bitten my face. I guess I need to get some acne medication.
On that note, I'm going to head back to my village. I'll let you know how the acne thing works out.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
I've never been so alone. And I've never been so alive.
Food at the local market. Everything is locally grown..(my dad would be pleased)
A little girl at the market, getting scolded by her mom. I think her expression is priceless.
Famous St. Lucian statue.
Catholic church in Castilles. The vibrant colors they use in the murals and stained glass make the church very unique.
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