Ice pick in your butt. By Ice Pick, Co-written by Knuckles

As Grace and I were sitting at Easy Rock Cafe, enjoying our Blue Mountain coffee (my first cup for over a month and it was oh so good) we decided after seeing Rambo, an expat diver, that we also needed a pretty sweet bad ass name. Although we aren't built like Mr. T and don't have the bling, or the tattoos, we are still two intimidating mo foes. Grace said her name would have to be knuckles, brass knuckles even. This didn't work at all. Knuckles it is then. And since I am sharp as a tack, or possibly just tacky...my name is ice pick. For some reason, we started talking about prison and how you can have knuckles in prison but not an ice pick. This is totally false I say. People smuggle in ice picks all the time! How says Grace aka Knuckles? In the butt! Duh...totally a no brainer.

You may have already realized that this blog consists of zero substance. This is ok. Sometimes you just need to sit around and think of totally sweet names.

Yesterday I was sick in bed all day. So boring, can't handle it. I decided to make one of my staples. Bean and cheese burritos. Since there aren't really any burrito tortillas, it is more like bean and cheese soft tacos. So yesterday afternoon before Grace's arrival, I took a can of black beans from my bean pyramid, and got my onion chopped and my taco sauce ready. Everything is in place. Even the mountain of cheese was grated. As I poured in my oil I got more excited...closer to the end goal. As I poured in my onions, the oil splashed on me and I screamed while doing a little dance. I am pretty sure I swore a lot too. Oh, I left out that I wasn't actually fully clothed. So, I am now burned with fear of scarring, but you better believe that they were damn good burritos.

For dinner Grace and I made cake. Not just any cake. Yellow cake with chocolate frosting. It was amazing. So we spent the evening watching Stick It and eating cake. Then talking, then passing out.

Today we are going to do yoga. I illegally downloaded a yoga video for my viewing pleasure. Then we are going to finish my gardening project when we figure out where I can get some soil (this island is covered in rock and coral). This must be the most boring blog ever so I am going to stop. I was just really excited about our nicknames.

For your viewing pleasure, I give you my burns, and Grace trying to sleep in my chair where she thought the mosquitoes would stop biting her (weird logic).

Christmas in Jamaica...and other things

I have spent my Christmases since I can remember either in Oregon, or California. In the last 4 years however, I have spent Christmas in Thailand, Costa Rica, Portland, and now Jamaica. I have found an interesting pattern in my overseas vacations. The pattern is McDonalds, Taco Bell, and Burger King. I remember exactly what I ate. Double Cheeseburger meal at Mickey D's, bean and cheese burrito and cheesy gordita crunch at Taco Bell, and a vanilla milkshake at Burger King. I can only imagine what next Christmas will hold for me and my fast food. Each have a story, but I don't feel like telling them.

I actually had a wonderful Christmas. Nothing Christmasy at all, it was great. Sandy made me crepes for breakfast, then I went and spent a few hours on the beach with some volunteers, then dinner at Brian and Yvonne's. It was really laid back and relaxed. Oh! And then I went to Bill's, and expat friend and had a second dinner at his place and it was packed with the whole expat clan. My second dinner was actually just some sorrel juice and two bites of Simon's mashed potatoes, but still. So now Christmas is done and over with and tomorrow is New Years Eve.

I leave in the morning for Falmouth, about twenty minutes east of Montego Bay. Me, along with about 15 volunteers are renting out a huge house on the beach for a party. It is going to be sooo much fun. I am going to be sober sober sober, but I will get lots of pics and lots of laughs. I am wondering if we will continue our pattern of skinny dipping...it would be the third time. For the third time, I will also be the only sober one. Good times. I am really excited to see everyone. I wonder if we will do the countdown and the kisses at midnight...I could do with a little tradition. Champagne would be nice too...I'll treat myself to a glass I suppose...

I didn't mention in my last post, but my results from Kingston showed that I have an ulcer. That being said, I have been taking special care to eat things that are bland and boring for the sake of the whole in my stomach. It is healing, and not as bad at all, but I got a lengthy call from the nurse at Peace Corps who told me that ulcers, once you get one, come back really easily so I am being very careful. That being said, I am tired of being sick. Oh yeah, and I am getting a cold. I am really tired of feeling icky. Ok, that is enough complaining out of me. Just had to say it.

Other than that, things are good over here. The road at the Recycling Center got fixed yesterday after Tropical Storm Gustav washed it away in August. Four months out of business makes us very excited that it is fixed. It is about damn time! Things are moving along at work, but there is so much to do and it takes so long to get anything done that there are 30 balls rolling at once and I can't keep them all straight. I am not actually very happy at the Chamber. I am not unhappy I suppose. I am just getting wind of all the politics involved in every decision that is made and it isn't benefiting the community as it could. I feel like they claim to be a benefit to the community, but all the members are business owners who are really only looking out for their best interest. It is really frustrating. This means that no one is really interested in what my supervisor and I are doing unless it means that it is benefiting them in some way. So when we need to get approval for stuff people just don't answer. But oh well.

I am not sure if this is possible or makes any sense at all, but being here, I feel more together and sure of myself. I feel like I am learning and growing and becoming older and wiser. At the same time, I feel like I have never been so clueless and scattered about how I feel, what I want, and how to do anything. Because of this, I am experiencing highs and lows that I feel unfamiliar with. I think I experienced them at home too, everyone has good days and bad days, but when they happen here, especially the bad days, I feel so isolated and alone.

Today was actually a bad day. I was mad mad mad. Frustrated and fed up. I left work at like 3:30 because I was on the brink of tears and told myself I was going to work from home. This actually looked like me in the fetal position in my bed wishing I could just go to sleep and lose the lost feeling. But I called and talked to my pops and felt better. Thanks pops. My emotions get to a point where they are manageable and then at some point they spill over and there is not stopping them. But enough of this as well. This is just a bad day. Most of my days are amazing and full of adventure!

I'm a little mermaid, and I am not impressed with Dr. Gyno

So...one of the organizations I am collaborating with is the Negril Coral Reef Preservation Society or NCRPS. When they have funding, and no organizations really have any funding right now, they do about 18 dives per month for coral reef monitoring. I spoke with the head ranger and he said that I could go sometimes if I got dive certified. So...thanks pops, I got dive certified! So I am excited about helping the rangers, but I am obsessed with diving. I had to go on two dives to get certified and I was 40 underwater! It is such an amazing feeling. Not the being underwater part with the tube in my mouth or the tank and weight belt strapped to my back. The amazing feeling was being so far under our world that I saw that a whole different world exists! I don't even know how to explain it. When you are snorkeling, you get a glimpse, but this is so different. I can't wait to go again. I saw so many different kinds of coral and fish and they were all just doing there thing. Just living and surviving. Just amazing! Hopefully I will get to dive again soon.

I had to go to Kingston last week for some appointments. Three, with three different doctors. I wll spare you the story of me watching a vampire moving and then being totally freaked out in my shady not safe really cheap hotel room the Peace Corps put me up in and jump straight into the interesting part, my vagina. Yes, I had to get my pelvic exam. Usually, in the states, these happen pretty quick. Like 20 minutes or so. You ladies know the routine. The doctor warms the speculum, puts on the KY tells you they are doing to insert in and you will feel some discomfort. Well, aparently not in Jamaica. In Jamaica, things are different. I was too shocked to mumble my mantra...TIJ TIJ TIJ. Instead, after the doctor arrived 45 minutes late she rushed me through so fast I was in and out in about 3 minutes. Hurry come now she says. Take off your clothes and spread your legs she says. Is the rhinovirus prevalent in rural Jamaica she says...not to me this time but to the nurse studying in the chair next to the bed. I take off my pants with them as witness. I spread my legs. She puts cold water on the cold metal duck bill and crams it up in a not so careful way. She takes the really unnaturally long q-tip in sticks it up my vag. She scrapes it around and pulls it out. There is blood she says. Surface bleeding. Could this be from you stabbing my cervix with a q-tip like a wicked wench I want to say, but don't. She says I am done and goes about her business, which is quizzing the nurse. Good job she says, not to me. And while I am still spread on the table the Peace Corps nurse calls me. I answer. I am late for my next appointment. She is outside in the car waiting. I rush and dress faster than I have ever dressed, with an audience...oh and this after the doctor hands me a roll of toilet paper to clean up my mess. I wipe, with an audience, I dress with an audience and I am out the door and off to my barium swallow. It took me longer to type this than it took to have my vag stabbed.

They thought I had a hiatal hernia so I had to get a barium swallow. This was fast as well and an entirely different yet Jamaican experiment. They ask me to walk into a changing room resembling a room you would find in a Target. I put on an xl gown with tacky flowers on it. The arm holes were so big that my boobs fell out the side. I walk to the big xray room holding my gown in place. I had to drink this really fizzy tonic that tasted like bitters poured into alka seltzer. Don't burp says the technician. I can't help it. I stand there and belch and giggle because I can't help it. I am making faces. This is not pleasant or comfortable. Then comes the barium. It is flavored like something to make it more pleasant, but I felt like I was guzzling white vomit. Gross. They take xrays in a weird machine. I have to flop and spin while they were looking and my boobs were flopping in and out of my gown. I give up. Let them flop. Fuck it. I don't have a hernia they say. Just severe acid reflux. This is both good and bad news. Good news I don't need surgery. Bad news, I have to deal with acid reflux that my medication isn't helping.

After this, I go and get Burger King, eat it in a rush at the Peace Corps office, and before I leave for my 5 hour trip home I am blasted with my barium screaming to come out. And scream it did. And splash it did. And gross.

And now I am off to work.

Mo money, mo problems

My blogs are dwindling. It isn't that I don't have much to say, but rather that I have had outlets recently to share them with so they aren't as pressing to squeeze them out here. Plus, I kind of look like an ass when all my blogs contradict themselves. This life can be an emotional roller coaster and I feel like I go up and down and back and forth, sometimes all in the same day. I'll feel like I have it all figured out, and then I will be asking what the hell I am doing.

Tonight I am asking what the hell I am doing, but only becuase there is so much going on. We got a grant that required co-funding so on top of trying to collaborate and communicate with three organizations simultaneously, we are also putting together and doing the prep work for this project, and at the same time, trying to find the most appropriate grant to apply to for our co-funding. The project is called, "Boosting Biodiversity in Negril's Coral Reefs through Community Recycling and Environmental Education." I wrote like 97.5% of it and am very excited that my first real grant was funded! It is a huge deal in my little head...professional development wise. It is funded by the United Nations Development Program. Tomorrow is Monday and I have two meetings, both meetings with people that are late. Late in Jamaica doesn't even mean like 20 minutes. It is measured more by the hour. We will see what tomorrow brings. I have decided my new outlet for dealing with it will be writing haikus. I haven't tried this yet, but I might come up with some good stuff tomorrow. I am also working on an integrated public awareness campaign, a web page, and several documents that need revision before we start carrying out our project. I am spending waaaay too much time in the office lately, which is difficult because it is really uncomfortable in their chairs, but I know that once we start moving, I am going to be doing tons of meetings with area schools, businesses, and hotels. Not to mention workshops and training with community members.
My Office (just kidding...just mixing work with my tan one afternoon. I really was working!)

More to touch on later (more for me than for you):
Barium Swallow and belchy tonic
Jamaican gyn exam
Dive Certification
Hopes and dreams

Thanksgiving in Jamaica

Last weekend was our Thanksgiving. Not Thursday. Saturday. It was wonderful. Over twenty volunteers made it to Negril to celebrate. I will admit though that my favorite guest was my very best friend Cecilia. Cecilia is officially my first visitor and I have asked her to write a blog that I can share with you that outlines her experiences here. It was a bit nerve racking having her here. I am used to almost dying on a regular basis, but I was always worried she was going to get hit by a car, or chopped, and the prey of a sexual predator. Luckily the only real attack she got from me when I screamed at the top of my lungs at Bourbon Beach when a Swiss gentleman asked us to dance. Damn Swiss. Who needs their good looks and their cheese anyways. I watched her sweat while I was cold, I noticed how she interacted with the locals. I listened to her comments when we tried to sleep to the crickets/lizards/geckos. Having her here was amazing but also different. I watched her experience Jamaica, and I shared the sunsets and the beautiful beaches and the children running along in their school uniforms.

One thing that her visit did was help me realize how thankful I am. I am thankful she is in my life. Thankful that she reminds me we are all human. Thankful I can share my life with her and others and have it still be mine. Life here is hard every single day for a plethora of reasons. It is also easy. I was thinking that I am so happy and ok with life becuase I know it is supposed to be hard. If I didn't think it was supposed to be a struggle, I would struggle.

I wrote a blog a few weeks ago about how I was in love with myself and discovering myself and watching myself experiencing all of my daily trials and tribulations. I wrote of how comfortable I am in my skin and how I feel confident in myself. I need to make an addendum. It was all bullshit. Well, not really. I was writing about how I felt in that moment. That whole week I think I was dancing on air because the world felt right. I am not dancing on air right now. I am not unhappy, but not dancing either. I tried to dance today, couldn't even get to phase one of the hipster leg shake. It is because I am not supposed to be dancing on air everyday. Today, instead, with the power out and no way to do my work, I went up to my favorite boutique hotel to use their generator powered electricity to do my work. I did a lot of work. I did good work. I designed an organized public awareness campaign. While doing this, I kept looking out at the ocean, the waves crashing up against the cliff, and had to take a break. Many breaks. I was distracted. My mind was trying to do work and digest life at the same time. I wish I could explain what I mean. Nothing in particular, but just feelings. Not even thoughts. It is like my feelings were competing against each other. So many emotions in a place that is so full of beauty and ugliness. I think I was trying to come to terms with some emotions that were conflicting. Conflicting ideas of what is right and what is wrong. What is ok, and what is not ok. I was also angry for doing everything I am not supposed to do for my increasingly severe acid reflux.

It is crazy I am in another country but I can look up at the same moon and the same stars. I think there might be one difference though. I can't find the big dipper. I can see the little dipper, but the big dipper is missing from the sky. Sometimes I feel like it is the only thing that really makes me feel disconnected from home. I can walk into a store and buy a snickers bar, and if I really wanted to I could track down a television and watch the Office, but no matter how hard I try, the big dipper is gone. It is somewhere else. Somewhere I am not. When I come home, I am going to find it and feel right with the world again.

Thank you to everyone who came down for Thanksgiving. I felt loved. I feel thankful.

I am tired of being a female in a sexually aggressive culture.

I think I have learned my lesson. It happens every time. Every. Single. Time. Back story...

Living in Jamaica is difficult. Living in Negril is especially difficult. The cultural differences are big. really big. (Side note:power just went out for second time in two days. Thank you charged iPOD and laptop) People talk about different things here. They dress different. They act different. Not necessarily bad, although some of it is bad, just different. For instance...simple cultural difference:

If you give a Jamaican your phone number, male or female, they will call you over and over again. They will leave messages, or not, but they will call over and over and over again. I first learned this lesson after meeting a girl named Jodi. She was nice. I wanted to make a girl-friend. I thought she might be able to show me things I couldn't do by myself or with a dude. This was bad. I told her I had friends in town and that I could do something the next week. She called that night. Several times. Then, she called me at 6am the next morning. Really. Then she proceeded to call me AT LEAST ten times a day for a couple of weeks. I answered sometimes to tell her I couldn't hang out. I kinda...lost interest pretty fast.

Then, I met a really nice guy I thought I might make friends with. I am trying to integrate...develop a community. I need to make friends who will introduce me to Jamaicans and teach me stuff right? Wrong, that is not what I need at all. I need their Jamaican steel. I need their baby. I need them to lick me. No. No. No. Ok, I get it. Don't give your number out. Bad idea.

Get this, the weekend before last I go to my friends place in Santa Cruz and this nice older man was sitting next to me. He was talking to me about politics, religion, farming, etc. It was really nice. The bus was loud. I was texting my bff Cecilia all the sweet late eighties, early nineties love ballads that were blasting, while carrying on this conversation. I was also trying to position my head so that I was not breathing my rank ass breath directly in his face (you know when it gets really bad and you know it is really bad but you can't do anything about it?) and we just chatted for like an hour. At the end of the ride it was late and Santa Cruz isn't one of the safer towns and he offered to take me where I was meeting Grace. Then he gives me a 3 tangerines, 2 oranges, and 1 custard apple. Produce is expensive, so this was sweet. He asked for my number so he could check on me now and again. I said sure and thought it was genuine and sweet. It was. However, his 24 year old son has been calling me daily no less than twice a day now for the last week and a half.

Don't give out your number!!! But it is hard because I have turned into a total hermit and I get invited out all the time and I almost always say no. I have reached a social exhaustion where I just don't have it in me. I know what the issue is. The people that invite me out...men. All of them. I only have one Jamaican female friend and she is wonderful, but also wonderfully quiet and shy and doesn't go out. So I have the owner of this bar, the manager of this hotel, the taxi guy that got my number etc calling me and I don't want to deal with any of it. I want numbers so I can call people when I feel like going out. There is this one guy I just met and he is really cool. I am going to try to hang out with him, but once again, can we be friends or does he just know the American approach? Ugh....man.

And this is hard to because I need to be culturally sensitive and sometimes I can walk down the street and try to understand. I try to understand the culture and the history. It isn't always easy though when I am trying to walk down the street and I am being yelled out to every five feet. Sometimes it just feels dirts and gross. Today was a dirty and gross day.

I am concerned I am not going to be able to integrate into the community here like many volunteers can. White people are everywhere. I am no one special. I am white and rich. I am resented. I am hated by some even. The racism I have experienced has been intense. I have never feared for my physical safety, but the blind hate is really disenchanting. If I had more money, I wouldn't spend it doing the touristy stuff that is around, I would use it to hang out in the beauty shop. I would get my hair done, my nails done, a facial, I don't know. That is where the ladies hang out. I want to know what it is really like here, but the cultural barriers blow my mind.

This culture is so incredibly sexual. More than anything else I have experienced. They are aggressive too. Guys will just grab your hand or arm and pull you into them on the street. Being able to diffuse a situation without either me or the ass loosing face is one of my new skills. What I really want to say is, "Are you really so desparate for attention that you feel the need to say something that a 12 year old would say, while grabbing your crotch? Really? Does that work? Ever? Because it is ridiculous." Instead, I dismiss them in the same way the ladies do. I close my eyes and turn my head while lifting my eyebrows (major attitude in the brow lift) and then open my eyes again. It basically means, you are not worth my time.

Tomorrow I leave for Ocho Rios for the Peace Corps Early Service Conference. I am excited to see everyone. I am not excited for the meetings that usually end up being a waste of time. I am leaving a day early because otherwise I would have to get up at like 5am to go on Wednesday morning. That is not happening. My friend is getting a room at the hotel the conference is in so I am going to crash with him. Should be grueling, but there are perks...

What a trip this life thing is...

Me and a student. Tour at the Recycling Center.

Something is happening to me here. This lifestyle is changing me. I am changing. It isn't bad. Sometimes it feels bad, but it is helping me transform into the person I know I can be. When you are in a social circle, or many, it is easy to get sucked in. It is fun and comfortable. I did that in Portland. I got cozy in my life and had no reason to pull away from it. But I am here now, and I am realizing that I am still me, but something has changed that brings a smile to my face. My self-worth, or confidence, or self-esteem or something has blossomed...and it isn't done yet. I know I am not explaining myself well right now, but I feel more comfortable in my own skin, than I ever have in my life. I have always been pretty good at standing up for myself. There is this saying that goes something along the lines of, "Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes." and I have had to have several confrontations with some very intimidating people (Jamaicans can be very verbally aggressive), and I was calm, when usually I would be trembling. I would do it, but I would have a little nervous tremor. Not lately. Lately it is soooo gone. It might not be gone forever, but I have been firm, and honest with people and it has been well received and has felt really good! I had to sit my supervisor down and have a chat with him because he has been flaking on me. I had to tell the manager of the office that I refused to do a task that he was almost yelling at me to do. I had to send an email to two very prominent people on the Chamber board and stand my ground on issues. I feel like I am earning respect in this community and it feels so good.

There are other things I wish I felt more comfortable with. Like what I am truly supposed to be doing. I just finished reading Three Cups of Tea, which is amazing...read it. One thing I am learning as I age are my limitations. My life goal used to be winning the Nobel Peace Prize, not for the money, or the notoriety, but because that would mean that I have spent my life making a difference. I realize that there are certain people who can do those sorts of things and those who cannot. My personality means that I lean towards certain things. I don't have it in me to do the things that Mr. Mortensen can do. That doesn't mean that I am not going to spend my life trying to make a difference, just that I don't have a fire that burns as bright as his.

I am realizing many things being in the Peace Corps. First, I am not sure I agree with the Peace Corps. The style of developmental aid (PCV) is inefficient and creates more dependence on aid. I also think that we act as PR for the United States. We are little seeds in communities around the world acting like a poster child for the USA so that people like us. I guess that is the "Peace Corps," but the people who join really want to make a difference, but that is difficult to impossible when we are under trained, and not given any resources. Many of us are fresh out of college and have never had a real job. What that means is that volunteers are left to make something out of nothing and it is an adventure, and a challenge. It is truly amazing and is why I am growing so much, but how does that help the Jamaican people? By the end of service, a PCV costs the US Govt. between $80-100,000. We have between 80-100 volunteers in Jamaica alone. That is $10,000,000. If we set up educational programs to teach Jamaican's what they needed to know to take care of themselves, they would be able to make their own change, which comes with a lot more pride, than asking for handouts year after year. There are plenty of Jamaicans here that are educated, but can't find work. Engineers that can't engineer because the job doesn't exist so they drive a taxi instead. All the businesses work the same and it is unorganized and sloppy. Adults need training. In everything, but I see a lot of good in business education, management, accounting, waste management, IT, and community development. Or, if the Peace Corps would send someone into an organization to scope it out, figure out the needs, and training required, and then take care of those things, we would really be working ourselves out of a job. After 4+ months, I know what my site needs. Business development. The Chamber of Commerce needs to know how to manage. They need to know about marketing, public relations, management, organization. The place is a mess. At the Recycling Center, where I am stationed mostly, we need money to do anything, but we also need my supe to know project management, time management, money management. He needs things I cannot teach him. I am working on him though, keeping him on his toes.

I am happy here. There are so many things that make this place so hard, but like I said, these are good things. I am saying that I don't believe in the Peace Corps, and yet I am here representing the Peace Corps. It makes me wonder on a daily basis if I am here more for selfish reasons. I have told myself that if I am here more for me than for the people of Jamaica than I need to leave, but I don't think I can. I am here for the people of Jamaica, but not in the capacity that will result in the best outcome for them. I am still figuring out what I do and do not agree with about all this stuff. I have to remember that the first two goals are about cultural exchange, and the third is about capacity building and skills transfer. It is all quite a dilemma figuring this out in my mind. But I am not going anywhere. I can't. I have ideas. I am motivated to keep doing what I am doing. I am learning about international development that might guide my career choices in the future. But it is true. I think being here, choosing the Peace Corps, was more selfish than selfless. I am learning how to make that ok in my head. It makes my stomach turn here and there, but that doesn't take much.

What a trip this life thing is.


I have some more things to add to my list of clever discoveries:

1.) Buying really cheap neon pink lotion called Supreme Extreme hand and body lotion, instead of imported gillette for shaving cream saves you loads of money. It is such a good investment I am not even ashamed that I have it where people can see it.
2.) Buying really cheap antibacterial body wash and diluting it half way and putting it in your hand wash container is like 3x cheaper than buying actual hand soap.
3.) I really love smoothies in the morning! They aren't even expensive. Just water, plain yogurt, a banana, and powdered soy milk. I plan to experiment with this more. When it is mango season I am going to be in heaven.
4.) Scotch Bonnet makes everything taste better.


Things still to learn (and any PCVJ out there want to help me out with this, feel free),

1.) Keeping my clothes from molding. I have started hanging up most of them to get more air. I think I need to switch laundry detergent, but they are all so expensive.
2.) How to be a woman in Jamaica. It is not easy.

Random stuff, life rocks, baths in Jamaica suck

So many things I don't blog about. There are lots of things I don't tell anyone about. They are just for me. Experiences that are so profound that it is amazing just thinking about it. No way to explain how something clicks, or makes sense, or you see something that puts so many things in perspective all at once. It is like a eureka moment on steroids. I dig it. There are things I do and will share.

Starting with my failed attempt at a hot bath. Why on earth would someone want to take a hot bath in Jamaica? I am not even sure. I wanted to feel the water on my skin. I wanted the candlelight and the music (Antony and the Johnsons). Well, first of all, I had to switch on my hot water heater. I have been taking all cold showers, this is only the second time I have used it since being here. While that was heating, I went to scrub the mold out of my shower (everything molds here!). Then I lit my candle that is wedged strategically inside an Appleton Rum jar, then I placed my fan in the doorway so I wouldn't get too hot. Then I start filling the tub. Now, the water was hot but to speed things along, and in case it wasn't hot enough, I put not one, but two pots of water on to boil. I go to check my progress in the tub and the water is getting cooler so I know the water boiling was a good idea. However, my damn candle went out. I realized that the fan was blowing out my candle. I rearranged the fan, lit the candle, and the candle went out. This repeated several times until I realized that if a fan is placed anywhere in the bathroom, the light is going to go out. Fine. My water is ready, I pour it in. I get into the bath now worried I am going to be super hot since I no longer have the fan. Wrong, somehow, the water was actually cold. I got in my bath and I was cold. I wish I could say that at least it felt nice, but it didn't. I wasn't hot to begin with so I was uber cold, then the back of the tub wasn't angled at all so I wound up really uncomfortable in a cold bath. And that is the end of that story.

I also want to mention some things I am learning through experience:

1.) Don't buy a machete unless you know how to use one and what you are going to use it for (at least it looks super cool next to my door)
2.) You can make planters by cutting plastic bottles in two and poking holes in them.
3.) Your clothes will mildew and mold faster in the dresser, put them in the closet.
4.) Don't make eye contact with men, it means in weird Jamaican language that I want to have sex with them.
5.) Sometimes when you are at the hardware store and standing in a semi-non-existent line and people keep moving in front of you (for 30 min), the only thing you can do is walk to the desk and yell, "Can someone please serve me?!"
6.) Roofs in Jamaica also serve as patios, laundry lines, and gardens. I just doubled the size of my place.
7.) Even though it is more hand washing to do, go through 2 pairs of underwear a day instead of suffering with one. I can only feel moist and sweaty for so long.
8.) Don't ever give your number to people you don't actually want to call you.
9.) Don't allow yourself to fantasize too much about being in your favorite coffee shop, drinking coffee and looking out the window at all the doug firs and the rain and talking to someone you want to see badly. It only makes you sad.
10.) Don't put egg shells in the compost pile. Lucky the dog drags them out.

I'm so tired. I want to badly to write about my experience in the hardware store where I got nicknamed 'Obama', or the taxi driver that gave me a free ride, or the breadfruit and june plum trees I climbed, or the really intimidating appearance as a guest speaker that I kicked ass at. Instead, I will leave you all with my love. This is amazing. When I have time to give the rant, I will, but now, I just love. I love what is and what can be. I love the pain and challenge and discomfort I am in and I love the learning and growing it is forcing me to do. I love my friends, my long lost friends, and my really long lost friends. I love my dad and brother. I love that I am alive and can see and breath and think and talk everyday and share this life will all of you.

Love.

Was is something I said, did, didn't do?

Probably. Well, yes. I spent the weekend in Santa Cruz with my darling friend Grace and was a little unhappy when I got home and had to deal with moldy clothes in my closet, moldy sheets, and moldy chair cover (which is actually also a sheet). Because it is always so moist, it is impossible to keep things dry (that's what she said) no matter how are I try. So, I spent the afternoon after a ridiculous half day of traveling doing laundry. Three loads, and I have another soaking in my bathtub. I was trying to get the sheet off my ottoman and I lifted it up and dropped it on my middle toe, which is now purple and hurts like a sonofabitch.

All in all, I feel like Jamaica and I are not good friends. However, I have myself pretty psyched up to have a good week so I will have to see how that goes.

That's all I got today. I am tired.

My pledge to Obama

President Obama,

To you I pledge:

- to support you as president, even in the face of scrutiny
- to question your choices and keep myself informed as to the happenings of the world
- to remain hopeful and positive even if I want to throw my hands in the air and give up
- to do more than I have done and am doing to be a part of the change I want to see in the world
- to be the best person I can be, recognize my faults, and understand my role in this world

I have never felt more hope and pride as an American as I do right now. We have chosen this man to lead us into a better world. He can't do it alone. We have to help. It is up to all of us to pull our heads out of our ass, step out of our bubble, and work together to make the world better for everyone. There is good in everyone, we need to synergize that shit!

I am really hopeful, but I believe and have faith that we are going to see things change. I am going to continue to work for this change.

Peace out.

Tami