Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk

The big week of the PSW (Personal Strategy Workshop) has come and gone and life has resumed as usual in Manigri. I feel very much settled in at my post--for the most part--I would still like to fix my doors, my ceiling, and my walls--but things are good. The PSW was a great little reunion with everybody. It was dampered only by the fact that I got sick the second day there with some sort of bizarre African cold that I seem to keep getting--fever, chills, sore throat, headache, body aches--the whole nine yards. I spent the whole week living from dose to dose of medicine. I didn’t bring any medication with me, so whenever I did get my hands on something, I felt great, but if I wasn’t medicated, I was definitely down for the count. By the end of the week, however, I was feeling better and I had taken enough medicine to be back in form for the 80s dance party that we had planned to hold way back in Stage. The deal was that we all had to dress in the best 80s clothes that we could find in our markets. I found that “dress like the 80s” quickly became “dress as stupid as you can“…which I guess isn’t that big of a jump as my dad pointed out. Anyway, it was quite fun, and I felt like that was as close as we had come thus far to all of us being in our natural element. We were all relaxed, the initial pretenses of feeling like you have to be kind to everyone and impress everyone had worn off, I think that we have all become more of ourselves in our time here and because of all those things I feel that we were even more comfortable with being with each other. Not to mention that it is apparently known throughout Peace Corps that the TEFL stage this year (that being us) is strangely friendly with each other. Like we actually really like each other--this of course not being the norm of the previous stage groups. We’re just a big happy family, what can I say? Actually, I will say that this has been one of those rare occasions were we have just the right amount and perfect blend of each personality. We are able to be ourselves without imposing on someone else’s beliefs or traits. Growing up with a sports background I am well aware how even just one person on a team (or in a group, in this case) can tip the scales and off-set that harmonious balance that everyone wants.

A part from the PSW, I find life to be slowing down--not in a bad sense, just in the sense that I feel more comfortable staying at post and I don’t have the same urges to travel all the time. I must say, though, that doesn’t stop strange things from happening to me. For instance, the other night, as I am sitting in my living room typing an exam, my little neighbor girl comes running into my house screaming with excitement, “Tata! Tata! Come look. There is a little cat outside!” I was, of course, excited. The other day I had seen my neighbors playing with a little black kitten, and thus, I assumed that my neighbors had purchased this kitten and it was romping around outside. So, I drop what I’m doing and I walk outside. “Where is the little cat?” I ask. My little neighbor girl smiles happily and points. I follow the direction of her finger only to see that there in the moonlight with it’s throat slit open and blood on the ground beside it was another giant bush rat. Not exactly the cute little kitten that I was hoping to see. Jumping back and covering my mouth, I go back into my house and sit back down deciding next time my neighbor says that there is a little cat outside, I will make sure to ask her what the little cat looks like. Stupid giant bush rats.

And thus, speaking of bloody and gross things, that reminds of Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving occurred just before our PSW, and I traveled up to Natitingou to be with the crowd there. The dinner itself, was absolutely amazing and the only thing that I was missing from my Thanksgiving dinners back home were my Grandma’s dinner rolls. The bloody and gross part comes in when I decided that if I were going to be a non-vegetarian my whole life, I might as well actually know how to prepare a turkey, and thus Carly volunteered herself to be on the killing, plucking, gutting, and grilling committee. Step one, involved catching all of the turkeys, chickens, and hens (or pheasants or guinea fowl or whatever they are). This was, by far, the most humorous step of the process as three of us ran around the PCV house trying to corner the birds. We would get them into a corner, crouch, and then slowly creep in, hands ready to capture. The first chicken came right at me, so I put my hands down, touched one feather, let out sort of a terrified moan, and retreated. “Run away, run away” (Monty Python, anyone) I was much more prepared for the second chicken and am proud to say that I did catch that one on my second go around. I won’t divulge too many details about the next three steps (the killing, the plucking, and the gutting) only to say that it was one of the most disgusting things I have done since becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer and yet, it didn’t seem that bad or that strange at the time. The worst part was when my parents called and I had to put my hand in a plastic bag so as to not get Turkey blood and guts on my phone. I have standards, you know.

That’s all for now. Time for a little nap. Hopefully, I will have more time this coming week (it is my exam week, so no lesson planning for me!), and I will be able to write at least one or two more journals before Christmas. Love and Happy Holidays. Carly