Hold onto your hats folks!

I have not blogged in a really long time and I have good reason. I have been busy! A busy little beaver. Because I have so much to report on, bare with me. I am going to have headers so you can come back if you need to!

Wedding in Port Antonio, Portland, Jamaica, West Indies
The first weekend back in town from my trip back home, I had to travel to the other side of the island to Port Antonio. It is so much prettier than Negril, and Negril is pretty gorgeous. So many mountains and trees and beaches. I was asked to be in my friend Tasheka's wedding. I read scripture. It was fun. I have never been in a wedding and I was really nervous and I read it too fast in a mic to everyone and it was just a little weird...but then I was on the program again to give a toast to the groomsmen at the reception! I didn't know any of them and had no idea what to say so I just got the mic and cracked a few jokes and wished them all well. It was a bust, but it was fine too. I was pretty excited about wearing a nice dress though. It took hours and hours to get all the way to Porti. And 6 transfers! Negril to Lucea to Montego Bay to Ocho Rios to Port Maria to Anotto Bay to Port Antonio. Holy cow dude. Talk about a sore butt. I will attach a picture for your viewing pleasure. Negril is on the westernmost side and we traveled the north coast.

Cut, stitches, ouch.
So...I have been lazy lately about my dishes, which the cockroaches love. I am not as thrilled. I am definitely going to step it up, but anyways I was putting my dishes away last Sunday and a heavy glass fell from my cupboard (not sure how this happened) and broke onto my counter top. Then, from the counter top it fell broken onto my little toe slicing it clean open! After yelling a lot and calling for help and not getting any, I hobbled over to my tub to try to rinse it and assess the bleeding. I quickly realized that it was deep enough to need stitches and the bleeding was bad enough that I needed some real help. I walked over next door to my dad's place that he rented and called out to him, while creating a nasty puddle of blood on his front steps..it was dripping....so much bleeding! So after he helped me to his bathroom he did some first aid and Sandy, my other neighbor came along. While she was administering first aid, I was on the phone calling people that would be able to take me to the hospital for stitches. It didn't really even hurt and I wasn't crying or anything but I know Peace Corps and they would have been pissed had I not called them and took the necessary precautions. So I call my friend Simon who I thought could use his boss's car to take me and he shows up in a hurry and then he administers first aid. So, three people doing first aid quickly turned my toe into something that was not half bad and I really didn't want to go into the hospital at all. Instead we bandaged it up and I went into the doctors on Monday for my two stitches. The stitches were fine, but the shot to numb my toe was worse than the whole thing! I felt like I was getting stabbed right in the bone! I will attach a photo for your viewing pleasure.

Donkey Races
Yesterday was the annual Donkey Race and Family Fun day in Negril. The even is put on by the Rotary every year and I helped out. So did 8 other PCV. It was so much fun. The donkey's were hilarious and people had so much fun! There were carnival type games, and a little Ferris wheel and bouncy castle and merry go round. There were a watermelon eating contest and beer drinking contests and face painting. Hundreds of Jamaicans and tourists showed up with lots and lots of little ones. It was so hot that I was sure I would get burned, but I put so much sunblock on that I left unscathed. I was originally supposed to race a donkey, then I got demoted to decorating the donkey, then I was supposed to be a bartender, then a face painter, and I actually ended up just being a runner and did loads of things. But I don't even care because it was so much fun! I did get to bartend towards the end of the night and it was loads of fun. I definitely want to bartend one of these days....maybe grad school? And yes, I will attach a photo for your viewing pleasure.

I guess that is actually about it out of me. I want to tell you about how a lizard on the ceiling managed to pee and poo on me, and how my attempts at Jamaican squatting leave me in quite a mess. And about the head on motorcycle collision...with another motorcycle, but I am just going to leave it at that.

Simple things are never simple.

Life here is a struggle. I know. Look how I started this blog already. What a downer...psych! It is a struggle even when it is good. You know when you get off the phone from talking to a boy and you are all giddy and have to run around the house squealing (maybe I just do this...maybe I don't?). This sort of excitement and euphoria is so intense that you cannot contain it. What about when you feel like you have just given up on life and want to just lay in your bed and try not to exist. This type of intense emotional pain is so bad that you just disappear inside yourself. Now imagine that these two extremes collide into each other and are in your head while you are trying to function in a foreign country. This might be the best way to explain my struggle. There is so much to process here. So much to understand and embrace and accept. This includes cultural issues, social issues, economic issues, and lastly, my own issues. What are my issues? Nothing too exciting. More like tedious. Trying to wrap my brain around everything I am trying to take in. Examining and choosing to reflect on my experiences, my reactions, and what I can learn. Recognizing that I need to work on my patience and expectations. Recognizing that I am way too hard on myself. So this is why it is a struggle. I choose for it to be. I am not in school anymore but I am learning so much about myself and what I am capable of. I have already been able to see so many strengths in myself that before were invisible. I have also been humbled by discovering things about myself that I also had not previously seen. So does that mean I have had a self-esteem boost or (word for opposite of boost)? I say they have canceled each other out and what is left is growth, and that aint bad. That is all I am going to say about that. This blog doubles are my journal these days so thank you for reading my therapeutic scribbles (typing really).

My dad is here! He is visiting for a whole month. There are so many things that I want to do with him, but because I am working and things here are spendy, we can do few. That is ok though. There is easily a month worth of things to do in my area so that is what we are going to do. When I first arrived here I was so full of questions and everything was so amazing, and hot, and stinky, and exciting. Now I get to see my dad go through that stuff. His first traditional Jamaican breakfast: Ackee and Saltfish, yellow yam, boiled banana, boiled dumpling, fried dumpling. His first 'smalling up' in a taxi. His first dip in the caribbean. His first rasta smoking the ganja on the street sighting. It is all very fun, and cute. I have every intention of putting him to work at the recycling center.

Let's see...anything else to report...I don't think so. I am jet lagged and not sleeping well. Went to make tea and my kitchen light is burnt out. Can't be bothered to cook in the dark. I burn myself enough in the light. My laundry is a huge issue at the moment. I am out of underwear (did I mention I was leaving tomorrow for the weekend?) and the whites I bleached got soaked when I forgot them hanging outside...again. I am worried about my spending. I don't want to go over my allowance again, I can't afford it. I am officially a wuss and now have hot water showers every day. I now have three scars from my recent tummy burns (see blog from a couple weeks back). Enough random information? I think so.

Likl more.

Holy hell! I almost forgot! I planted a garden on my roof. All that is growing is the abundance of lettuce varieties, but still....awesome! Oh, and swiss chard, and zuchinni. Sweet. See pics.

Me planting on my rooftop

Two weeks later!!!

I'm back on the rock!

On our way to hiking in the Gorge

I haven't posted for a while. First, I have been in an emotional lull just trying to sort out why I am here, what I am going to accomplish, losing hope in the Jamaican way of life, etc...blah blah blah. Then, I went to Oregon for an amazing 12 day trip that I am still recovering from. Then, I got back and am getting into the swing of things.

I have recently been told that my blog is like an emotional roller-coaster. When you read them in a row they are up and down and up and down. When I was told this I thought about it for a second and was like, 'Yup, pretty much." That is what it is like here though. I am not just waking up and going to work and going home. It is more complicated because not only am I in a place that is totally foreign, but I am dealing with a lot of new world views, perspectives, work ethic, cultural behaviors-thoughts-attitudes, etc. Sometimes I feel like I am on top of the world and am on the right track and sometimes I don't know what the hell I am doing. Well, most of the time I don't know what the hell I am doing, but that is part of the trip. Learning to process all this and deal with the emotional strife is part of the experience and I am growing a ton. I think that if my emotional growth could be measured by my height, I would be at least a foot taller! So there. Yes, I am a basketcase here, but a basketcase on an amazing adventure that this blog cannot begin to describe.

Plus, I could easily write everyday a little note about how I am doing and what I did, but I am sure that would get old pretty fast. I usually wait until I have a little meat and then spill...which usually results in a hugely long blog that I can't even read in its entirety. So, I am going to try to keep it short and sweet, but more often. We will see how it goes.

My trip to Oregon was both wonderful and full of reflection and hard truths. It only took about ten minutes from the time I walked off the plane to when I was driving on the freeway past the strip mall of Ikea, Best Buy, Bed Bath and Beyond, etc that I felt good about being in Jamaica. When I left I was really stressed out and worried that I would go and not want to come back. I am glad that didn't happen. I worry for us Americans and how we live and I really did feel a little discust seeing so many huge stores, parking lots, and cars. Overall, going home, I feel very blessed. I got to catch up and spend time with a lot of people that mean the world to me. Some of them have helped shape me into who I am today and others play a part in who I will be tomorrow. I got to drink some of my favorite beers. I got to go hiking in the gorge. I got to play with animals on the farm. I got to smile and laugh and rest and nap by the woodstove, maybe my favorite place on earth.

Farm in Amity, Oregon. My home.

Oh, and I got attacked by a Bunny. Yes, a bunny. My friend Kyle was so excited for me to meet his pet bunny. His potty trained, jump in your lap and kiss you friendly bunny. Well, I liked this bunny up until it jumped up, grunted/growled, and bit me mid-calf. The damn thing broke the skin! Who knew! It was hilarious. I never thought I would be attacked by a bunny. I have now been bitten by dogs, cats, horses, goats, pigs, rheas (prehistoric bird like an ostrich), big talking birds, and a bunny! I feel like I am leaving something out. I guess I get bit by people on occasion as well...

Bunny I hate you. ( But you are cute)

A few days before I left for the states, my friend Grace told me she was leaving Jamaica to go bac to Michigan. Although it saddens me that she is not on island, she made the right choice, and I would have done the same. I miss you Grace.

Now I am back and have sooo much to do. I feel like I have recharged my batteries and am ready to face Jamaica with a new found mind-set. I was letting myself get really stressed out to the point of being physically sick all the time and I refuse to do that. I can only do what I can do! As much as I'd like to, I can't save the world. And in two years, there is not much I can do except for make small triumphs and hope that I can make a positive impact that will last beyond my departure.

It is Monday night, I got back on Saturday afternoon. My dad is coming to visit on Wednesday! He is staying for a month. I found him a place to stay...next door so he will have his own place and I will have mine. So far, we are going to go to Port Antonio for a wedding, and into Kingston for some Dr. appts I have. Hopefully while we are there we can do the Blue Mountain Hike. There is so much I want to do with him and know I can't that it is nearly heartbreaking. I will just have to save what we miss for next trip. There is going to be lots of scrabble, dinners, sunsets on the beach, and snorkeling. Plenty in Negril to keep us busy and two weekend we will be gone.

I don't think I have anything else to report really except for that I am back on island and ready for what lies ahead. Hopefully the next blog will look much the same.

I love sorrel, so do ants.

Today I wanted a treat and I was sooo thirsty so I went into the Hi/Lo and bought a large jug of sorrel juice. It is delicious and I am sad we don't have it in the states. I have had a few glasses throughout the evening and my last one was poured without enough attention. Apparently the glass had sat long enough to attract some mini ants and I filled it back up and began drinking before realizing that I was guzzling down creepy crawlers. I only noticed when the tickle in my throat felt unnatural and then gazed down to my glass to see several floaties. Had that happened when I first got here I would have flipped out. Now, it is barely blog worthy. I am only mentioning it because the only thing that really bothers me is that it didn't really bother me.

What is more important though is the sorrel aspect of this story. It has to be one of the best things I have been introduced to since coming here. It is a beautiful red flower and when you boil it it turns into this dark red juice. Add a little sugar and a little ginger and you have the best thing to touch your tongue since Andes Mints! I guess I satiated two cravings today. My sorrel and my fried dumpling! Jamaicans eat a lot of carbs and a lot of fried foods. The one really bad for me staple here that is served with many meals is the festival, or fried dumplings. They are basically biscuits that are super delicious and dangerously bad for you. I also cooked and prepared a delicious dinner (chicken lentil veggie stew with rice) only to eat peanut butter and jelly in a bowl. Sometimes you just have to go back to the basics. Plus, now I have lunch for tomorrow.

I am realizing that I am letting my life here stress me out. I am allowing my challenges to overcome me and affect my mood and behavior. I am looking forward to going home to the states and stepping away from here for a bit to get some perspective. I need to get positive again and appreciate all the opportunity I have to do something here. I have felt a bit in a funk as of late and I am not into it. It is not my thing. I need to get back to being the bubbly Tami I am at heart.

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...