The Recent Peaces

Here's what's been happening, y'all-

I came to the city on February 1 to take the Foreign Service Exam. I have never taken a test with zero expectations. I did just that with this test. I'm not even sure I want to work for the FS, but the test was offered and it was free, so I took it. I will have the results in a couple of weeks. I don't know if I passed it, but I don't think I bombed it. I knew a couple of things.

Since I've been in, I've had meetings for the two committees I'm on. The PEPFAR (President's Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief) team is working to compile a portfolio of all the HIV/AIDS projects Peace Corps Volunteers have implemented in Suriname since 2010. Our hope is that when Peace Corps Suriname closes in July, local organizations will take over some of those projects and keep the good work going. PCVs in Suriname have done such great work in this area, and have some great ideas that are both culturally appropriate and effective. We want them all to continue.

And speaking of HIV/AIDS projects, I just finished one. During January, Julie and I implemented a curriculum geared toward sixth grade students. The program covers everything from transmission/non-transmission, the biology of HIV and when it becomes AIDS, as well as stigma and discrimination reduction. The kit includes a manual in Dutch, so that the teachers can continue with the program every year. In a PCV's perfect world, that would happen. The sixth grade teacher we worked with was less than enthusiastic and didn't really help us at all. It was frustrating at times to be doing the work that we wanted the teacher to do. It's hard to get the teachers excited about extra work. Nevertheless, Julie and I facilitated the lessons and the kids learned a lot. I was actually really surprised and excited about how much the kids knew all ready. I give that credit to all of those youth leadership camps we held months ago. In the end, I think the project went as well as it could have. The goal was for the kids to learn the facts and how to protect themselves, and I know they did.

The final lesson involved the kids making posters to educate others on the facts of HIV and how to protect themselves. I had the posters enlarged and laminated. Julie and I are going to hang them at the school and in the stores in our villages.

Drawing a picture about the importance of getting tested for HIV

Julie being a Peace Corps Volunteer

Showing off their certificates and red ribbons.

Julie is behind the camera not telling me she's taking the picture. 

I was happier than that to be there. 

On February 8, I traveled to Albina to visit Michelle's site. Albina is an Amerindian site, so it's very different from my life in Saramacca. I gathered that Amerindians are a way more quiet culture than Saramaccans. Albina is on the Marowijne river, the border between Suriname and French Guiana, so of course we hopped across the border for the day to enjoy delicious pastries and cafe au lait in St. Laurent. And by "hopped across the border," I mean we took a boat across the river and went into French Guiana totally legally and with permission.

Michelle's house. That's Michelle in the middle. 

This street made me think of New Orleans

Strolling through the market

French Guiana was once a penal colony, this is the entrance to the prison

Inside the prison. The buildings are now used for festivals and theater events.

Vietnamese food court

Vietnamese pho and an egg roll was not a bad lunch.

I had a great visit with friends at Michelle's site. French Guiana was a nice treat, and the food was wonderful. I took all of my Euro change back to the bakery before we left. I bought four pan au chocolat, a quiche, and an apple pie thing. I think we left the country with roughly seven baguettes. All of it was eaten. Success. 

I left Albina on Monday morning and returned to the city around noon. I jumped on Facebook as soon as I returned to the office, as I always do when I have internet access. This is the first thing I saw...

I cried. Without knowing what happened, but knowing it was something bad, I cried. I knot formed in my stomach and I was almost scared to find out what it was. After browsing Facebook, I found out it was a tornado. A tornado hurt Hattiesburg and my Southern Miss. I immediately thought of my brother, my friends, and my parents. My mom is in grad school, she had class over the weekend. Were she and my dad still in town? My brother lives in Hattiesburg. Did the tornado come close to his house? So many friends are still in Hattiesburg. They live all over the city. What was the tornado's path? Were they all okay? I was scared to call my mom. It's always hard being so far away and not knowing what's going on back home. That's even harder when tragedy is involved. I called my mom. She answered. They were all okay. Andy's house and neighbor's houses have some damage, but he was out of town for the night, and not at home when the tornado hit. I let out that breath I was holding. I eventually found out that no one was killed in the storm. That's a miracle, y'all. 

Maybe it seems silly to some folks that a picture of a rock, broken trees, and a street filled with debris evoked such emotion in me. And if it seems silly to you, you didn't attend the University of Southern Mississippi. Yeah, that's my alma mater. I have a piece of paper that says so. It's so much more than that though. Southern Miss is my home. My parents went to Southern Miss, and regardless of how much they wanted me to believe the decision of which college I attended was mine, they wanted more for me to believe that Southern Miss was the best place for me. My mom was a Chi Omega at Southern Miss. Going through sorority recruitment was not an option. She told me the choice of joining a chapter was mine. My dad's words were different. "You don't come home if you're not a Chi Omega at the end of the week." I didn't and I was. At Southern Miss. Six weeks into my freshman year, I told my parents I was going to study in France the next spring. Because of Southern Miss. I know without a doubt that I would not be a Peace Corps Volunteer had I not spent a semester in France. I wouldn't be a Peace Corps Volunteer without Southern Miss. With the exception of about three people, my best friends were given to me by Southern Miss and Chi O. I wouldn't have the support I need to be in the Peace Corps without Southern Miss. My heart and life were changed by Southern Miss. So, yeah, a picture of a rock, broken trees, and street filled with debris was hard to see. 

I love this picture of students helping clean up our campus. 

"...so lift your voices high, show them the reason why that Southern spirit never dies. Fight. Fight. Fight."

When the day and the tornado are over, buildings will be rebuilt. Spirits will be lifted, and Southern Miss will be okay. After all, it's not the buildings that changed my life. It was the people, the soul, and the traditions. Those things are all still in tact. And because of that, Southern Miss will continue to climb to the top. And in a few months, I'll be there to see it. 

My state never ceases to amaze me, whether it be for the good or bad. I have seen so many pictures and newspaper articles in the past few days of folks coming together to help in whatever ways they're needed. In times like this, I am reminded of why I love Mississippi and why I couldn't imagine my life being rooted anywhere else. 

I obviously did not take any of the pictures of Southern Miss posted above. In case you're just tuning in, I live in Suriname. If Molly, Hannah, and Mary Lois are reading this, I stole your pictures. Thanks. 

I am going back to site on Monday. Julie and I are cooking up activities for a World AIDS Day celebration and field days at the school. We're going to be busy. I'm thankful for that. When I return to the city in late March, it will be for SUR 17's COS conference. That means Close of Service. Close. Closing service. My service is coming to a close. Holy cow. I cannot believe it. I've lived in this country for a little while, y'all. Wow. 

As always, thanks so much for taking time to keep up with my life, read my blog, pray for me, and make me feel so special. Seriously. I cannot say it enough. 

Also, I will not miss Mardi Gras next year.

Happy New Year!

I cannot believe it's a new year. But isn't that always the case? I said in my New Year's post last year that I am always a little sad to say goodbye to a year. That's because my years are so wonderful and full of great things. Twenty-twelve wasn't different in that regard. Wonderful things happened and I learned so much about life and where I want to be and the things I want to do. I also learned that sometimes I am not completely sure of any of those things, and that is so totally okay too. Twenty-twelve was different though. This was a full calendar year of Peace Corps service. If you've been keeping up with my blog, it's not a surprise to you that while I continue to learn and gain so much, Peace Corps service is hard. I have never lied about that, and maybe sometimes I make it seem like it's only hard. It's rewarding and great in so many ways, but it's been a struggle some days. And that's okay. I think a lot of things in life that are worth doing and learning from are not always easy. The fact is, I love Peace Corps. I love the goals and mission of the organization. I love that I can call myself a Peace Corps Volunteer and be a part of that mission. I am honored that I was chosen for this position. I love the work my fellow PCVs and I are doing and have done. I love knowing that I have the ability, and have been given a unique opportunity to change lives. I love that my life has been changed so much by people I have grown to cherish. Regardless of the struggle and tough days, I do love it. 

Having said all of that, I'll admit it, I am so happy to welcome the year twenty-thirteen. I am okay with twenty-twelve being over. I will finish Peace Corps service this year. In so many ways I truly cannot believe this year is here. I've lived in the jungle for almost two years. That's insane. I am overwhelmed when I think about finishing up service and the fact that the majority of the work I'll do during service is coming in these last few months. That's Peace Corps though. I truly did not have the tools and resources (or language skills) to do these upcoming projects a year ago. I am thankful to be busy in these last few months. It will take my mind away from the States and wanting to be there, because I do want to be there. I am looking forward to all of my upcoming projects, but I am also looking forward to finishing my service. And I think that's a good thing. I don't want to be afraid to go back to the U.S. I want to be ready for the next chapter. I think I am. I think I know I am. I'm going to rock it in twenty-thirteen. I mean, I think I'm rockin at life pretty much all the time, but maybe I get cocky. Seriously though, I love my life, and it's a pretty good one. 

This time of year is always one of reflection, so here are the wonderful things I see when I look back at 2012:

New experiences. New experiences when the shiny wears off and they become life. Turning twenty-five in the jungle and having friends there to help me celebrate. Hugging my parents after almost a year of not seeing them. My parents on a boat in the middle of the Amazon. My parents sitting in my tiny house and hugging those I love most in my village. Youth in the interior of Suriname becoming leaders in their villages. Eating monkey and toucan in the jungle. Yet another Fourth of July and Thanksgiving celebrated with an ambassador. Curacao. Babies being born. Babies learning to walk and talk and say my name. Falling more in love with those twins I just cannot get enough of. Heartache as the big project I was working on came crashing down. Joy that my village found what they were looking for. Parasites. Dengue. Another delicious mango season. Mexican food. The U.S. of A. Mississippi, y'all. Old friends and their new babies. The most amazing and supportive family anyone could ever ask for. A Mexican restaurant in Hattiesburg, MS packed with hugs and love for me. A forgiving and faithful God. 

Let's go, 2013. I'm so glad you're finally here. 

A Three Hour Tour

I promised in my last post that I would write more about my trip way upriver, so here ya go.

November 26- December 1

On the morning of November 26, those of us leaving from the city were picked up about four o'clock. We were well on our way by five, but that doesn't always mean a lot when traveling in Suriname. We arrived in Atjoni (where the road ends and the boat travel begins) about seven. We waited ever so patiently while our guides loaded up our two small boats. Fourteen of us were making the trip. Around nine o'clock, we were on the road again. Well, the river. We had to pick up a few folks along the way that were at their sites, so that took some time. Oh, and I haven't mentioned that the river was about fifteen inches deep in some places. I think we got out of the boat almost every twenty minutes to walk across sand or rocks. Maybe not that much, but way too much. I felt like I was on a hiking trip with a little bit of boat riding thrown in the mix.

We didn't make it to our desired destination on the first day. After ten hours on the river, we stopped for the night to sleep in a shed by the river in a village called, Godo. Now, Godo is located on the river by a pretty substantial rapid called, Tapa Wata. When boats reach Tapa Wata, everything has to come out of the boats. The boats have to be portaged over the rocks. Our guides slept out on the rocks with our stuff, and we saved the task of dragging boats up rapids for the next morning. I hung my hammock in the shack and zonked out.

We were up and at 'em at six a.m. on day two. Pretty soon after waking up, we had ropes in our hands and we were dragging the boats up the rocks. That's hard work, y'all. Day two passed much like day one. Shallow water and walking. We had to portage the luggage and goods at the Gaan Dam again, but this time we just switched to boats that were already at the top of the rapids. We hit our first destination, Langu, after about six hours on the river. Getting the chicken barbecued and the beer cold were top priorities. After supper and some Saamaka music making, we tied our hammocks. Oh, wait. Julie killed a mouse with a dustpan before I could go to sleep. The mouse was in my stuff and ran across my foot. Twice. I have to say, she killed that tiny mouse like a pro. I thanked her, but her real reward was when red ants took over her bag. She literally had ants in her pants the next day. Way to go, Julie.

Day three was another six hour day on the boat, full of much of the same, to our final destination, Sentia Dam. We did spot a pretty decent sized caiman. And the guides shot it. And we ate it for dinner.

Day four was our only day not in a boat. We spent the day lounging in our hammocks, playing games, swimming, and eating more barbecued chicken and fried river fish monsters. Let me just say something about this chicken. Forget marinades. Forget sauces. The way to prepare chicken is to let the entire bag of frozen chicken thaw out in dirty river water and on hot rocks. And then you cook it on an open jungle fire. It was some of the best chicken I have ever eaten. Seriously. Then again, I did have a parasite after this trip. Whatever.

We were up pretty early on day five. We went back to Langu. I bet you already guessed that it was another long day on the river. You're right. We did get to experience the killing and cleaning of a tapir though. Honestly, it made my trip better. Until that point the trip had been way too much just hanging out with heat exhaustion and dehydration for me. We can hang out for a lot less money than this trip cost. Killing a wild animal, now that's a jungle adventure. And it was. I think our guides shot the dang thing seven times. They were beaming as they dragged the animal out of the jungle and down to the river. I couldn't help but be excited for them and for their village. They had to clean it immediately, so we got to see that. It was pretty gruesome, but so interesting. The things these guys can do with a machete is totally impressive. I mean, the precision. Wow. I wanted to squeeze it's stomach, but that's nasty and inappropriate, so I didn't do it. We made it back to Langu exhausted, but with meat. That's a big deal out there. The guides also killed two howler monkeys and a couple of random jungle birds. The village members were pumped. John had a party planned that night for us to hang out with his village. We danced the night away in the jungle.

The next morning we were all set to leave Langu. Folks were going back to their villages, and a group was going back to the city. We were all ready to go when we got the news that the boatmen that were suppose to take us had decided not to go that day. Yeah. John spent the next couple of hours getting it all sorted out. It was a long trip and we were all tired. Patience was running low, but he got it all figured out and we were finally on our way. We spent ten hours on the river with the same song and dance of getting out, walking, getting in, and carrying supplies. We did not make it to Atjoni and our van that day. The six of us going back to the city stayed at a volunteer's site about two hours from Atjoni because night fell and the river is just too risky to navigate at night. The next day, the trip ended and we were in the city. Whew.

I also have to note that every single Saramaccan that was informed of our trip took the time to inform us of how insane we were for making the trip with the river so low. It's fun to get picked on when you're so tired and hot, right? It was an adventure and something I will for sure never do again. Cheers to that.

portaging the boat (notice the women working hard)

sleeping arrangements 

tapir

headless caiman

Little Life

I have obviously been living most of my social life through Facebook for the past nineteen months, so thanks to that (and that fact that people share the majority of their lives on social media) I'm pretty up-to-date on who's married, engaged, or pregnant. And so, I would like to take this opportunity to share that I, too, have a little life inside of me. His name is Giardia and I found out about him yesterday. I have to say I was a little surprised, but not shocked. I returned on Sunday from a trip way up river, literally so far up river, and while on the trip we had to drink filtered river water. It was filtered, but that water is nasty, y'all.

I'm not alone in my news. There are quite a few other PCVs with the same situation. We'll get through it with help from Doc and metronidazole. Here's a picture of my little guy. I think he's smiling at me.

In case you didn't get the joke, although I'm sure the picture helped, giardia is a parasite. I have one. I guess parasites come with the territory, but they definitely are not in my job description. Ugh. I'll survive. Peace Corps is always an adventure, that's for sure. 

I am going back to site on Friday or Saturday. I want to feel better before I make the trip. I am ready to get back and hug those crazy people I live with. I miss them, and it's been a long time since I've slept in my bed. I promise to write more about that trip way up river in the coming weeks. It was a doozy to say the least. 

True Love

I do not know where to begin. The past four weeks have been such a whirlwind of hugs, love, and fun. I cannot believe the number of people who have been keeping up with my life and adventures, and who were waiting and ready to see me in my short visit home. I am overwhelmed once again by the support and love I've received from folks I love and that love me back. Thank you so much.

While I was home, I was able to see just about everyone I wanted to see even if only for a minute. I flew in on October 18th. October 20th was Southern Miss Homecoming, and while our football team is not even worth mentioning this year, the party that awaited me in Hattiesburg well worth talking about. Taylor (along with help from Hayley and Hannah) organized a night of Mexican food and fellowship at one of our favorite places. I was prepared to hang out with a few friends for the night. I was shocked when I walked into a room FULL of people. I kept turning to find folks stuffed in every corner of the room. It was packed. I cried and cried. I was shaking as friends literally formed a line to hug me. What a night. To all of you that were there that night, I cannot say thank you enough. Seriously. My life is better because of y'all.

The next day was fun-filled with college football and tailgating. It was so good to sit with friends and catch up a little bit more over the delicious fares of a tailgate in the South, like dips. I love dips. Mmmmmm.

The next week brought dinner with Audrey and dinner with Melanie. Momma had surgery to remove some kidney stones, and I spent a couple of days hanging out with her while she recuperated. I met Russ and Anna for lunch and finally hugged those precious kids of theirs. I of course instantly loved them, so I went to Tupelo to trick-or-treat with the cutest ladybug and bumblebee ever. I spent a weekend with Taylor in New Orleans. We jammed out to Jazz with cold brews in hand. We cheered the Saints on to victory, we ate delicious food, and took in the sounds of the Quarter. After NOLA, I spent another weekend in Hattiesburg and spent quality time with Andy. I had dinner with Sarah Catherine and discussed some details of her upcoming nuptials. She and I are both looking forward to July! Lunch with Bethany and Paula was wonderful, and I am so glad I was able to see Molly, Hannah, and Hayley again.

I spent Saturday night with family and went to church on Sunday morning. We had Thanksgiving early at my grandmother's house with all the trimmings. Last night Kathryn, Kenny, Josh, and I had a Mexican dinner and shared some laughs. I cannot believe my American vacation is coming to an end.

As I soak in the last moments of being in America and think about being away for another seven months, I am so thankful that I was able to make the trip home for a little while, and so thankful that I was able to see so many wonderful people. Momma, Daddy, Andy, Catherine, Grandmothers, Aunts, and Uncles, it was so good to hug you all and catch up. Friends, thank you for being the best friends I could ask for.

I did not intend to come home during my Peace Corps service. I thought I would be traveling around South America. I quickly found out that it was not easy to travel around South America from  Suriname. There aren't a lot of flights and it's expensive. It was this time last year that I told my mom I wanted to make a trip home. I had the vacation days, so why not? Looking back I absolutely think I could have made it two years in Suriname without coming home, but after the last few weeks, why would I have ever wanted to do that? It has been such a great trip.

Since I've been in America, I have of course been talking about Suriname. People have so many questions and are so intrigued by what I am doing, so naturally it came up a lot. I think the question I was asked most often is, "Would you do it again?" My answer is that I am so thankful to have been given this opportunity. I have learned so much about myself and another part of the world. I have met folks from all over the States and have made new friends. I am better because I seized an opportunity and took a risk. And so, yes I would do it over, but no I do not think I will do it again. I know that I will miss it more when it's permanent and I do not live there anymore, however I am ready to make a home in the States. I was not ready to say that before Peace Corps service. I am thankful for all the last couple of years have given me, and I welcome the challenges and lessons to come in the next seven months, but I am in love. I am in love with America, and I am so excited about the life that awaits me when I return to start a new adventure.

Going back tomorrow isn't going to be easy, but it's not going to be hard either. I made a commitment, and I am going to finish service. I hope that I return to Suriname revived and ready to tackle these last few months and finish this thing strong. I have projects to implement and not a lot of time left to get things done. It's going to be busy. I hope that I continue to learn and grow in these last months, and that I take the chances and initiatives to do so. I am going back with memories of a wonderful trip to America and more encouragement from those who love me more than I deserve.

The jungle is gorgeous. I ride a boat to get to my home in the Amazon. The sounds of howler monkeys in the night and shouting Saamaka women during the day are the soundtrack to the movie of my life at the moment. What an adventure! However, I know that I cannot live the jungle life forever. The nerves and anxiousness of what life back in America will be like are quickly fleeting. They are being replaced by a readiness and excitement to start my adult life back in the States. Like I said, I know when it's over I will miss Suriname. I will miss my jungle village and the people I have grown to love. I will think about how beautiful the jungle is, and I will remember what my neighbors sounded like having a conversation. Looking ahead to the days when I'm sure I'll miss Suriname, I will try to appreciate the opportunities and options around me and know that Suriname is still there, and will be when and if I choose to return. And when I really miss Suriname, I will look around and imagine an Autumn day in Mississippi, when the leaves are ablaze with color and the weather is crisp and cool. I will think of the sounds of a jazz band on Frenchmen in New Orleans and all the soul surrounding it. I will look around America, wherever I am, and know that I am home and that I am so blessed, and oh so very loved. Truly.

A Little Heartache with a Big Ole Side of Thankfulness

In my recent posts I have talked a lot about the rice mill project for my village. I wrote about my excitement for its implementation and the source of income it would be for a couple of workers within the village. This last stay out at site was almost eight weeks long. In that time I was able to do a lot of work with my counterpart and finalize a lot of plans for the project. Everything was set for me to return to the city, meet with my Program Manager, and send the project proposal to D.C. to begin searching for money. I felt really good about the work we had done and I was so pumped to be fulfilling what I see as Peace Corps "work."

A week or so before I was schedule to leave for the city, my little project was squished. The government sent Malobi a rice mill. I watched it being carried up from the river, and cried to my neighbor. My counterpart never told me it was coming. I was so disappointed and upset with the way he handled the situation and the way he did not work with me. My friends and neighbors were upset to see me upset. They did not know that my counterpart had left me out of the loop. I cried more. My neighbors did their best to console me and stop me from crying. I eventually was able to talk to them and tell them that I was not mad the village was given a rice mill. I told them I was upset because so many of them do not understand my role in project work. I told them it was hard to be left out of village news when I left everything and everyone I love in America to move here to work with them. I reminded them that I did those things because of what's inside my heart and not because I am being paid a lot of money. I do not know if they took to heart everything I said or if they believe me, but they saw my tears and saw how hurt I was.

At the end of the day, the situation died down. A group of village leaders met with me and told me how thankful they are that I am here. They apologized countless times and told me that I had every right to be upset. I told them again that I was happy for the village and happy that they had a rice mill, but upset at the way my counterpart handled the situation. They seemed to understand.

I didn't want to write this post. I feel a little bit embarrassed. I know that not everyone back home can understand why I am here helping people that don't understand my role in the community. I know that a lot of folks may question why someone would join the Peace Corps in the first place. I know that when projects like mine get squished it's harder to explain my decisions to those folks, and honestly sometimes to myself.

The past couple of weeks I have been in the city for Mid-Serivice Training and medical checkups. I am all healthy and have had a blast spending time with my group all together. I have had time to step away from village life and really refresh my brain and spirit as to why I choose every single day to be here. I took a minute and put myself into the position of my village. I count my life as extremely blessed, but even so, I often have a really hard time believing that even more good is yet to come. I do not believe that my village had a lack of faith in our project. I do not believe they ever doubted that we would find the money for the mill. I do believe that, like me, they had a hard time looking ahead to the good that was to come. Someone offered them a rice mill, and they had to take it. Who am I to tell them to wait? There was a rice mill sitting in front of them. The only thing I could have offered them on that very same day was a promise that one would eventually come.  When you live the life Saammaka folks live, I don't know how much a promise stacks up to the real deal. I think there are days when we can all understand their choice.

During our SUR 17 reconnect conference we spent time reflecting on this last year of service. We did an exercise in which we stood under different emotions, feelings, and thoughts. During the first round we stood under the feeling in which we can most relate to at this point, and in the second round we stood under the one that was furthest away from how we felt. Round One: I stood under the piece of paper that read, "I can see the impact of my presence here..." I was standing alone, and I think (and after sharing my thoughts with people it's been confirmed) a lot of folks read that as the actual physical impact they are making in their villages and how their villagers view their work. I did not read it that way. I read the statement more personal than that. I stood in that spot because I can see and feel the impact of my presence here every single day in that I am more understanding and patient in the realm of development. If I have a future in development work, I will be better at that job because I have experienced it first hand. I have felt the frustrations and have dealt with the stresses. I understand how to implement projects in my area because I understand the language and local politics. Going forward, I know that Peace Corps and Suriname gave me that perspective. I see the impact of my presence here in that a lot of folks back home read and keep up with my blog and now know about this tiny South American country. I see the impact of my being here in the photographs of my parents hugging my villagers and traveling through the rainforest. Round Two: I stood under the piece of paper that read, "I am ready to go home." I was not alone standing there, and I stood there because I'm just not. When it is my time to go, I will go and I will go willingly. However, that time is not yet and I am thankful for that. As ready as I think I am going to be, I know it will be hard. This experience and the people I live with have changed my life, and although I still struggle to show it all the time, they have made my heart a more welcoming place. I'm not done with this place. This place is not yet done with me. I am comforted by that thought, even on the hard days. I am so thankful for the Peace Corps and for my fellow Volunteers in Suriname and around the globe. I truly, truly believe in the spirit of the Peace Corps and all that it stands for. I know that the world would be a better place and that the world of development would benefit immensely if more people would take twenty-seven months to do what we're doing.

Everyone needs a break though, right? Right. I am coming to the States next Thursday. I am already completely blown away and overwhelmed at all the people who want to see me. I wouldn't be surprised if you could all see my smile from where you're sitting. I am beyond excited. I am ready for fellowship and laughs with great friends and family members. I am ready to come back to Suriname refreshed and ready to tackle my projects coming up. I'm ready to begin finishing this thing out strong. Thanks to everyone for keeping up with my life thus far. Thanks to those of you that pray for me all the time. I feel the love every single day.

Vacation is Over

Last week I was here. Yeah, it was hard to leave. 

My trip to Curacao was everything I needed it to be. Jamie and I stayed at a resort on the beach, and we rarely left. We went into Willemstad twice to walk around and go to Starbucks. Lovely. The majority of my time was spent between lying in my comfy hotel bed and lying in a lounge chair by the pool or on the beach. I worked out at the hotel gym and took a couple of hot baths! Yep, baths. Hot showers are such a treat, but a bath, now that's wonderful. We ate lunch by the pool and ordered room service almost every night. One of the biggest highlights of the entire trip for me was watching Today and Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. We watched the Olympic Opening Ceremony, and I was able to see my boyfriend, Ryan Lochte win the first gold medal of the Games. What a wonderful vacation. 

I know what you're probably thinking. You're thinking that I didn't take much of a vacation. Fifteen months ago I would have agreed with you. I believed that if you were going to invest the time and money to take a trip, you needed to see and do everything you could to experience your destination. Not now. I understand the needs for vacation are different for people and their circumstances. My life is adventurous every single day at this point. I did not need adventure on vacation. It really was such a treat to be in an air conditioned room, to sleep in a comfortable bed, and to watch TV. Oh, and while I was doing all of these things, no one cared. No one was knocking on my door wondering why I shut it and if I was sick. No one was calling my name repeatedly even though I was going to the bathroom and trying to ignore them. When I slept until ten o'clock a.m., I didn't have to have a conversation with anyone about the things I don't have to do and why my life is different because I don't have a husband and kids in the village. Yeah uh huh, it was a vacation. 

I would have loved to stay in Curacao, consuming my calories in the forms of cheeseburgers and margaritas (frozen with salt), but my bank account would not allow it. I also have some work to do here. I will return to life in the jungle with a darker, more even tan. I will take with me the memories of a relaxing and wonderful trip; also, I have been reminded that Jimmy Fallon is still the most precious man ever.  

I wanted to feel refreshed and ready to return to Peace Corps life. Instead, I was spoiled. Maybe that's just the way it's going to be for me. Lots of folks say they look forward to returning after being away, not me, at least not completely. I may not ever feel refreshed and completely jazzed to go back to the jungle after time away. It's hard to make the adjustment. I am thankful all the time for my current situation and my role in the world, but that doesn't mean it's not hard. There are moments of wonderful and moments of wondering how I could be anywhere else, but sometimes it's hard to get to those moments. Regardless, this is where I have been called and this is where I want to be for now. I know I'll miss the experience when it's over.

I am going back to site tomorrow. I am planning to be there for about seven weeks. I, along with my community, have a lot of work to do for our rice mill project. Seven weeks seems like a long time to be out at site after the vacation I've had, but it is time much needed to get a lot of good work done. I will come back to the city in September for Mid-Service training and medical check-ups. I cannot believe I am on the downward slope of my time in Peace Corps. That fact evokes sadness and thankfulness depending on what child I'm hugging or what frustrating community partner I am trying to work with. 


On a different note, I hate that I am going to miss the rest of the Olympics. I really should have planned the whole Peace Corps timeline thing better. Whatever. Go USA. Go World. I love you, Ryan Lochte. 


Oh, and I'm coming to America October 18. Containing my excitement for the next couple of months could be the hardest thing I've had to do so far. Cracker Barrel, I'm coming for you.