Cry Cab, kinda like Cash Cab, only less money and more tears

I don't think it's possible to fully convey the difficulty I'm having wrapping my brain around what I've experienced the past few months and I don't think anyone would understand, excluding who have lived with me, and even then, those who understand, are in the same boat I'm in.  I just spent the last few hours talking about EVERYTYHING with Tessa about our project, the way things went this round, the things that went wrong, why, what we'd like to see, what we love being a part of, what we love most, the direction we'd like to see things move, why things are the way they are in ZA and quite frankly, the rest of the world for that matter (speaking about race relations, specifically), our sadness about little tiny kids being scared of us because they think us superior because we are white, the racial dynamic of southern africa, etc.  I love that girl - badly and I don't think I can say enough how wonderful it is to travel with her and Megan.  My brain is buzzing and I'm feeling rather insane but if it wasn't, I think something would be very wrong.  


So.much.to.process!  I feel like I need to spend a day in belgium and just hide and write and try to come up with something but I'll probably fail, miserably, just like I have time and time again every time I've opened Trixie to type.  I know I'll be expectationally bad at it now since I was drunk before lunch, tired by lunch, drunk/tired after lunch, tired before dinner, drunk before dinner, dinner happened kinda and now, I'm just tired... so goes for a day of drinking wine since 10am.  At some point within that I sent 2 text messages back to Lesotho, one to Tomaki to get Sorghum's phone number for Tess and one to send a text to Rosemary to say hi, that I missed her, was on my way to europe tomorrow and that I'd message her when I returned to the states.  On the cab ride back to Rodebosch I looked at my temp phone and saw I had a message in my inbox - "Jess i miz u so much. Jess when will i see u? love u."  It took all the energy I had at that moment to not cry to Rosemary's response.


Hash, hash, hash and rehash... I hope one day I'll be able to fully share what I'm feeling and what I've seen, which has caused me to feel the way I do... I really do.  I will say this, especially since I'm jumping on a plane tomorrow to head back to Joburg to jump on a plane to Paris to jump on a train to Bruges...I feel like a giant white asshole pig.

Zoning

It has been, quite literally, non-stop action in Cape Town since I landed and I have to wake early in the AM to catch the train into the city centre to meet up with Tess and Megan for our day of gallivanting at the vineyards.  My life, does NOT suck!  It's been really wonderful traveling with those two, all 3 of us very low key and go with the flow of whatever happens but able to work with a loose plan - best way to travel.  The best part about traveling with them, all of us were in Lesotho and all of us have been reflecting on what just happened the last 2 weeks-3 months of our lives (each of us was there for a different length of time).  Tessa heard someone speaking Sesotho on the train coming back into Cape Town from Simon's Town and wanted to cry and I stood on the edge of the beach and asked the girls, "I wonder what the kids would think if we took them and brought them right here?"  We can't stop thinking about them and we miss it terribly.


I'm really trying to figure out the class/race dynamic of this city too and I have a feeling it depends on who you ask, kind of like what people think of gays in the US.  The answer depends on where you're at, what age you're talking to, what background someone comes from, etc, but it is very clear crime is high since the trains stop running after 7:30pm, which is making for expensive travel for me, being just outside the city centre, and I've never had so many people warn me to have eyes in the back of my head or tell me not to do certain things, like walk from the train station to Tess and Megan's hostel on a Sunday morning.


Excluding some of those odd things, I fucking love this city and BAD!  Seattle has nothing on the shear beauty of this place and I can totally see myself attempting to find a job as a yoga instructor, or something, here post travels.  It's just a thought since we all know I'm not planning ANYTHING that far into the future.  


Since I can't stop thinking about all my friends in Lesotho, I managed to find a track they play on repeat and it makes me so happy and nostalgic.  Food and music, those are the 2 things I want to experience in every country I go to... picture this scene, forever ingrained into my mushy brain:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0AHO6WoAeK0  

Last night in Lesotho, dance party, the girls had just walked me back to the "nun palace," I looked up and saw the 4 days of non-stop rain soaked sky had parted to show all the millions of stars, I sat on the ground, staring, sobbing and this song was blasting from NTJA-PELI (the hall we built in '08). This song will forever be in my heart. 

More later friends.  I'm off to sleep and the wind is howling as the clouds and cool air literally pour in over the mountain.  God... I love this part of the world!


xxxo 
dirty, bruised, a bit burnt and a wee blistered

Are those...

..."white people on the road??"
..."the circumcision boys??
"Rome!  Horse Rome... HORSE!" - while driving on the "highway" from Maseru to Bela-Bela
"Donkey on the loose!" - while standing there w/ Daddy, debating how to replace one of the entry gates/
"Is that a spray bottle... of HOLY WATER???"
"That caterpillar bit me and I think it has claws!"

This is just a sampling of things one would say ONLY in Africa :)  There are more but these were the memorable ones that made it to mine and Isabel's list.

Good byes are the most difficult things I have ever done, whether it be a death of a friend, letting someone go who I love deeply, or departing from a place I've considered home, even if only for a short time... they suck MAJOR ASS HOLE!  Speaking of major ass hole - Bananagrams sex theme is AWESOME and the only way I'll play it.  If I don't end a game crying in laughter, it wasn't worth playing.  So, because of that, I didn't introduce rosemary to that wonderful game but I did teach her to play solitare, in the nuns convent, on my last day because seeing her break down immediately when I see her and her asking, "are you leaving tomorrow??" was just too much.  More on that later but right now...

I've gone from drunk to tipsy to tired after polishing off a bottle and a half of wine with my mom's friend (I know, that used to be just me doing that back in the drinking days) at her house in Capetown and while this adjustment has been really odd and off, a mosquito has been buzzing around my ear for the past hour or so.  Awww... just like my home in Lesotho!  The only difference, Isabel isn't with me, holding her flip flop, ready to splat the next insenct that moves, and the bed I'm in is pretty much heaven on earth.  This is such a drastic change from the past 6 weeks of my life.  Reflection... needed like woah!

- dirty, extra bruised, scabbed and sobbed out

Jesabel

I suck and haven't had the time to compile my journals, and actually, I haven't written much because I'm trying to relish every last moment I have in the country I really am not looking forward to leaving.  I've chosen time with people vs time with myself and my writings.  On that note though, I've bullet pointed some highlights of the past 2 weeks so I can remember them and reflect upon them later

So with that...

• Sponsoring one of my favorite girls here (school and board/food) for a year because she didn’t pass Form C and her government sponsorship is no more because she failed.  21 year old, orphaned 4 years ago and is quite possibly HIV positive and continued illness last year played a major role in her challenges during school. 
• Exposing Bokong, the adorably beautiful little openly gay boy on campus (one of two) to Sia and Florence and the Machine and he loves them both, “bold, underline, italic!”
• Matela’s soccer game
• Insane connection with the girls
• Rosemary finally smiling after she had a few talks with Sr. Catherine and Florence
• Smashing my pinky toe on a god damn, dining room chair, of all things!
• Rome giving me compliments
• Daddy saying, “just your presence calms me.”  We are the keeper of each other’s sanity.
• Exchanging music with Tamaki
• Doing the little things I love most when at home – early morning workout and cooking
• Showing pics of my family and friends at home to my friends here
• Discussion with Daddy on “how have these experiences changed you?”
• Rome, “Are you easy to love?”
• School starts
• Nkwelle and Rolland aren’t really brothers, just from the same tribe in Cameroon and have known each other since college and are more than best friends
• Framing/grinding/screwing master
• Realizing, for sanity, I need to stay in the US until my June yoga class and THEN be gone for an extended period of time, at least through the next LUCOF project
• Lesotho dynamic
• 71 year old, camo skirt wearing, South African born, toothless Sr. Agnus who wants to hide me next week so I can’t leave
• Continually, literally living up to my blog name, unintentionally
• Somehow avoiding getting killed by the homicidal grinder
• Sr. Agnus doing a little shimmy shake w/ me after the good bye celebration

I don't want to leave.  I'm going to be a complete mess on Tuesday.

Franklin Robert Scarpelli-Powell

You will read about this in a later blog but Isabel and I have named our new pet Praying Mantis, Franklin Robert Scarpeli-Powell.  He's quite a gem and I wish he would eat more bugs from his perch on our ceiling because she and I are getting eaten alive!

I helped hand pass 541 chicks into the new and complete free range chicken coop today - woah!

We drove to Maseru, where I have never been and the internet is LIGHTENING fast compared to Ficksburg - thank JESUS, and it was SUCH a beautiful drive - OH..EM...GEE!  We passed the bridge where Emmanuel was last with us on this earth... You're so very missed my friend! -- Onto week 3 of my adventure!

____________________________________________

Pounding or Screwing?

Friday, 31.December.2010

It’s DUMPING that rain shit out of the sky and unlike in Seattle where it rains and it’s the piss mist that still allows for gallivanting around town, in Lesotho, you stand outside for one minute and you come back inside and it looks like a 2 buckets, no not buckets, 2 troughs of water were just dumped over your head.  The timing of this stuff was impeccable, or more like us finishing off the most exciting day of work was impeccable.  ALL the support for the bridge was removed today and it was an ass kicker!  I really don’t need bigger arms than I already have, thanks, I like my forearms and shoulders just the way they are but I feel like a very sore Hulk after using a sledgehammer for 5 hours.  Daddy and Tessa looked like they were bouldering the underside of this bridge while unscrewing every screw that was screwed while I was pounding the shit out of massively humongous blobs of concrete, attempting to set the scaffolding free from its really fucking tight grasp.  Advil has been ingested, LOTS of Advil.   The statement, “man, it would be nice to come home from a long day of work to big ole Vicodin,” may have been said.  Daddy is soundly sleeping right now and I may also wither away into a blissful, yet achy slumber, soon to the sounds of Agnus and Julia Stone and the torrential rain pounding the ground outside.  I’m really really glad Daddy is here too, btw.  Missed this girl BAD!

Our NYE has started early, thanks to the rain and so far, shower and nap.  I’ve never been a huge fan of NYE and actually, don’t remember the last good one I had, now that I think about it...hmmm… I’m actually trying to think back now and ummm yeah, drawing a blank.  There is supposed to be a live Basotho (country – Lesotho, language – Sesotho, people/music – Basotho) band at Tarven, which I’d love to check for a hot second but I think the rain may be a vibe killer and I don’t want to put on my gum boots again.  We may just head over to Nkwelle’s place on the other side of the campus to celebrate with him and Rolland but Nkwelle is getting sick, I blame Rolland, but he said he’d keep his cold at bay for the night so celebrations can be had.  Who knows?!  Whatever thought, I’ve been going to bed at 8pm every night so the thought of staying awake until midnight seems highly unlikely.  What REALLY matters is tomorrow and this rain better stop because Karen, her RAD daughter Dana and Dana’s husband and Daddy and I all want to hike to the nearest mountain and summit it tomorrow after we do morning yoga.  Mark my words – it will be done!  If not tomorrow, Karen is here another 2 weeks and Daddy is here w/ me until the end so we’re summiting that bitch at some point, god dammit! J

Time to join Daddy in sleepy time!  I just looked over at her and she is grinning while she sleeps, ha, that’s what Africa does to people, you smile while you dream.  Thinking of my Seattle family right now and all the fun they are having in BC.  LOVE AND MISS YOU ALL TERRIBLY! Don’t worry my other ½ of Lezbizon, I WILL be there for your 30^th!

J’ai ne porte pas pantalon

Sunday, 2.1.11

HAPPY NEW YEAR… or something.  No, last year was pretty spectacular and quite honestly, I have not a single regret, quite a few “bang head here” moments but overall, it was pretty awesome.  I believe I mentioned I’m not really a fan of big new year’s bashes and well, this year held true to form.  Here is how our rip roarin celebrations shaped up:

• Shelley found some god-awful HUGE caterpillar that apparently bites and has claws and for whatever reason found it appropriate to bring into the convent.  I freaked out on a level equal to that of a midget encounter.
• Muchado brought pictures of people using the community center we built for his community in San Francisco de Asis, Peru, last year
• Tears of laughter were shed over themed games of Banana Grams (thanks to me making “vagina” and “butts” in the same game).  Our favorite was Ann’s – misspellings are appropriate as is making up your own words BUT you have to pronounce the words AND provide a definition.  Oh…My… GOD!  Tears.
• Daddy and I headed to bed to read 
• Church bells rang at midnight, I looked up from Autobiography of a Yogi and Iz looked up from whatever book she was reading, we said “Happy New Years Daddy” to each other and went back to reading 
• Commence mosquito killing and sleeping 
• Many of us had hopes of an all day hike to the nearest mountain summit but when we woke, it was cloudy and the sky threatened that storms were a brewing.  Mother of god!  We managed to get up the hill and checked out an old cemetery but soon after that, the rain started and I think I’ve mentioned a number of times the rain here doesn’t fuck around, nor does the thunder or lightening.  I don’t want to die via lightening strike in Africa because I have too many incredibly rad things coming up so we turned around and went back to the house where Jack Attack proceeded to teach me how to play, not to mention whollup my ass in, Marabaraba, which is like a more complex version of tic-tac-toe.  I did win one game though, which he so kindly reminded me after hand delivering my ass to me on every other game we played.   The rest of the day Iz and I hibernated in our room, she reading and finishing her book and I completely consumed in my French lessons.  I still must learn the phrase, “my French is fucking UGLY,” in French. J I opted for holding off on my reading since I only brought 2 books and Chelsea Handler’s “Are You There Vodka, It’s Me, Chelsea,” was not worth its weight in my bag!  Oh, it was fucking bloody hilarious and I loved it BUT, it took me all of a day to read, which isn’t very helpful for providing me entertainment for the remaining 6 weeks I’m out globetrotting so, French it is! Oh wait, I did manage to hit up Tarven for a few minutes before sun down and crazy ass storm #43643 of the day.  Live music was playing and my new friend Pulae was there stick dancing like a crazy fool.  Loved it… bad!

Speaking of rad things in my future and French, I have decided that to my plans an addition must be made:  Become fluent in French by doing work exchange in the south of France at a vineyard for an undetermined amount of time. How’s that for 2 more items to add to my resume of awesomeness – French speaking wine maker!  I will research that when I return to the land of fast internetz.

Other than that – rain, rain, rain… it’s been a very stormy wet and rainy bitch the past few days and I’d like to kiss the creator of gum boots.  They are stylish in the US but actually functional as hell in the mountains of Africa.

I’m Only Happy When it Rains… in Seattle!

Monday, 3.1.2010

I think I’m getting seasonal depression during the African summer months and something is very wrong with this picture.  For the love of god, BE SUNNY so I don’t lose my tan!  I’m already nervous the biting cold weeks in Europe will eat my deliciously crispy brown skin and leave me pasty when I get back to Seattle and it’ll look like I never even left!  I know, I have some very serious problems I face in life because I’m also moderately freaked out my toes are just about naked for the first time in I don’t even know how long.  Why did I not make time in my insane schedule, prior to leaving, to get a damn pedi?!  Guh!

Little Jackie just came by the house to show me and Iz a pic of his cute little girlfriend.  He said yesterday, “It’s only fair because Izzy showed me a pic of her boyfriend and I saw yours.”  WHAA?!  News to me! Ha!  I’m pretty sure I laughed and said, “WHAT?!?!” and Jackie responded with, “yeah, Nkwelle’s friend,” and a wink.  “Oh, you mean his brother?  Oh Jackie, no, Rolland is not my boyfriend.”  He looked at me confused and have exclaimed half asked, “but I’ve seen you two talking.”    Granted I have a man crush on him, because he’s too pretty to NOT have one on, but we all know how much man parts are just not for me, ew, not for me AT ALL!  I do get the occasional wink and he’s been known to poke my belly (think Dave Matthews and Emily… for those who know that story! Ha!) since our first meeting when the first words out of his mouth were, “Oh you are athletic!”  He did go so far, during one of our conversations, to say, “When I went to Port Elizabeth to attend Grad School my family teased, ‘you will come back with a white girl Rolland! She must understand our culture and how close and important our family is and that we all live together and support each other.’”  He then looked me up and down and in his thick French Cameroon accent said, “you’d look great in one of our traditional Cameroon dresses that are very colorful and can be made to fit your figure.”  Then, he showed me a pic of his mom and sister in said dresses and mentioned he was trying to do some serious marketing for the country of Cameroon and that I need to go visit, as well as schooled me on the importance of family in Cameroon.  Aye yaye yaye!  I thought the last, and I guess still current, lady who held/holds a tight grasp of my heart was being forward when she said she can see our family’s getting along really well was pretty forward (I have since shattered that forwardness w/ my own, and quite possibly to a fault) but this man pretty Rolland… aye.  If I wasn’t so homo, I’d be all over this but alas…

Speaking of gay, there is the CUTEST FUCKING GAY BOY who attends school here and he’s just the most precious thing E-V-E-R!  His name is Bokan, he’s 17, has the most gorgeous smile and demeanor of anyone at this school and oh my god I want to whisk him up and take him to happy gay town Seattle.  Sue, Tessa’s mom, wants to go Madonna on his ass and I asked if I could borrow him.  I did make mention I would not let my husbands’ take him to the bathhouse until he was of an appropriate age.  He’s the cutest little dancer and I managed to get some video of him at the last dance party.  He and I are always on different projects so I haven’t been able to talk with him as much as I would like but I have 3 weeks left and I will learn more.  Prior to my arrival, Emily really eased the kids into subject matters, such as the gays, in a real light way by having movie nights consisting of Rent and Brokeback Mountain. Ha!  Oh Em… Will and Grace would’ve been more appropriate. J  The viewings did seem to give the kids an understanding of acceptance of other people though so I guess mission was accomplished.

Shenanigans ensuing in the dining area… I’m off to add fuel to them!

Xxxo,

Dirty, extra bruised

Til the Day I Die

Tuesday, 04.01.2011

5 hours, that is how many hours of sunlight we had today and it was GLORIOUS!  Everyone stripped off their rain coats, threw off their gum boots, tossed on a tank and slathered themselves in sunscreen.  I love the smell of tropical coconut goodness.  Like all good things though, that little break of heaven in the sky came to an end and I swear by the end of this trip, we’re all going to be master meteorologists.  *Sound the thunder*  We look to the sky and see the impending doom of dark shatter the sky.  “I give it 15 minutes before it starts to dump,” says anyone.  *Continue to swing metal fence spears in the air for another 15 minutes*  “Ummm, maybe we should stop holding big metal rods?” says me.  Commence more thunder, lightning so we throw all our shit in the shop and run to our house and in 5, 4, 3, 2…1 – BUCKETS!  Guh!  Well, at least I had a few moments of smelling like I was on the beach after rolling around in the mud.  I think this is really what African Musk smells like… those oil/perfume making people have NO idea!

So everyone wants to pull a Madonna on these kids and I feel it only appropriate to share the story of the kid I want to steal from here, who I believe I mentioned briefly a few weeks ago, Mungkee.  I love this little guy and he really is tiny, considering his age.  I met Mungkee in 2008 towards the end of my stay at the Convent in Lesotho.  Jackie brought him to me because he knew I had medicine for my headaches and he said, “can Mungkee have some of your head medicine?  His head feels terrible!  He’s going to the doctor but not until Monday.”  I asked what was wrong and didn’t want to give any of the kids medication so I tried to find another solution.  Mungkee could barely speak and just pointed to his completely blood shot, glazed over eyes, which he could barely open.  His lips were dry there was dried lip shmoo on the side of his mouth.  I brought Jackie and Mungkee into the convent dining area, which we try to avoid but I wanted him out of the sun and I ran to my room and grabbed my saline solution for dry eyes.  “Hey Jack, I can’t give him any medicine but I have these drops that should help sooth this eyes a bit.  When his eyes start to hurt again, just come grab me.”  I showed Mungkee what I wanted him to do w/ this eyes so I could put the drops in and he mimicked my motions.  He was dehydrated as hell so I gave him some water and he gulped down a few glasses of milk like they were his last.  A few hours later, while I was working, he came up to my side, tugged on my short leg – he stood only about hip height – and he made the “OMFG my eyes/kill” hand motion so rinse and repeat.  My favorite picture I took in 2008 is of him, sitting in the garage gate, which I think is one of my facebook album covers. 

Emily and I discussed when I got here how we felt when we arrived in ’08, we felt like we were entering a death zone and that all of these kids were in such bad shape they were on their last leg of life and some, justifiably so based on their health then.  Mungkee was one of the kids I thought I’d never see again and when I asked Ann, prior to coming a few weeks ago, “is Mungkee there?!?!” and she replied with “no,” my heart broke.   I didn’t want to believe it so as soon as I got here, the first thing I asked Jackie and Maswandila was, “where is mungkee?!?”  “Oh, he works in Maputsoe selling stuff during the week.  Do you want to see him?”  JOY!!!  He’s not a frequent worker and one of the younger ones, at 15 years old, but when he does, he makes a point to find me and be glued to my side.  In school he’s in Standard 7, which is the grade prior to high school.  His English has improved tenfold and English has become his favorite class in school.  He is the youngest in a family of 6 kids, 2 of whom died when he was younger so  he is left with 2 sisters, 18 and 23 and a 22 year old brother, all who live in the area with him.  This kid is a KILLER dancer and teasingly downplays his amazing skills but then comes around and boasts how awesome he really is, which is completely true.  He’s a sensitive little guy and spends lots of time writing poetry, in both English and Sesotho and god dammit he’s just the sweetest thing ever.  We talk a bit more and he speaks of how he wants to go to college then become a soldier so he can then train soldiers.  I had no idea Lesotho had an army… I must google this.  Our conversation turns the way of many tend to here from that point forward.

“Are you coming to the dance party tonight?” I ask him.

“Yes, I will bring my book of poems for you to read!  Who is leaving tomorrow?”

“Tessa’s parents and Dana, Nick and Shayda leave very early tomorrow morning.”

“When do you leave?” He asks the dreaded question.

“I leave January 26^th, so do Izzy, Emily, Tessa and Rome,” I say, hoping he has some glisten of happiness hearing we are here for the duration of the project but to no avail.

“You all leave the 26^th?  I go back to school on the 17^th.  What time do you leave on the 26^th?”

“Some terribly early hour, like 3am, I think.  You want to come say good bye?  This is all 3 weeks away you know.  You get us all for 3 more weeks.”

“I know, I’m happy you’re staying,” he explains, “ but are you ever going to come back after you leave?” He has a complete look of desperation on his face as he asks and I become very well away of the strings he’s tugging, directly attached to my heart.

“Oh man, I sure hope I do Mungkee but I don’t know when.  I don’t want to think this is my last time here.”

He looks down at the ground for a few seconds while he collects his thoughts or figures out what he wants to say.  His eyes rise from the ground first to meet mine and with a touch of sorrow and pride says, “I will remember you until the day I die.”

You are NOT African

Thursday, 06.01.2010

Hey Asshole Cranky Pants – that was me, yesterday.  Fucking rain!  Sick of waking up to fucking rain in Africa and apparently this is the first time in 33 years it’s rained this much.  Joy.  Slugging through the mini ponds, ratcheting the knuckle breaking fence of imminent accidental wrist slicing suicide, in silence, can get you stuck in your head, which for me, never leads anywhere good.  “I am all sorts of AWESOME, my life is ridiculously AWESOME, I will fill my world with people no less than fucking AWESOME and my mind will swarm with nothing but thoughts of AWESOMENESS – Clear mind… open heart.”  As I kept repeating that to my grouchy self I turned to look down the fence and I saw Machado, his neck craned, face pointing to the sky, and he’s aggressively attempting to blow the storm clouds away.  How in the hell can a person not laugh!  The most rain they get in Peru is less than a mist for about 30 minutes, once a month, and then muggy smog sweeps in to dry every bit of life out of everything.  That man makes me so happy and while it’s impossible to fill the void of Emmanuel, Machado is and was Peru’s version of Emmanuel and even though I can’t say anything in Spanish besides “hola,” and any number between 1 and 10, and he can’t speak a lick of English, we kept the other laughing the past 2 days while working together.

The 982,349,658,243 storm of the week came through, which meant holding a big metal spear in the air was a brilliant idea, so I went inside the hall and Emily taught me how to weld!  I don’t know why they have 3 year apprentice programs for this.  I’m a skilled master of amazingness at that shit! 

Shards of blue sky are what we woke to today and oh my god I think we’re all super solar powered because the energy has been RIDICULOUS today!  No one took a nap at lunch, which is a regular ditty for me (lay on your right side for about 20 minutes after eating lunch and you’re digestive system will love you… fyi! Mmm… J) and yet I just cried at dinner I was laughing so hard.  The energy!!  Put Emily, Isabel, Rome, Ann and Me in any conversation and things are bound to turn to filth and throw in a little 16 year old Peruvian Jefferson and Karen translating our filth and it’s just over the top.  Great energy is not necessarily synonymous with good decision-making though, more like manic.  For some reason I thought I had developed enough of a base tan, even after a week of being completely soggy, and found myself above the need for sunscreen.  I’ve never claimed my intelligence as consistent.  I’m fried but I also like to blame the 20% possibility of being 1/32 Native American for my red hue.

I managed to lure the untamable, undependable girls on campus to work like freakin beasts with me today.  We got so much done and they were so excited to see all the work we had all done together.  There was NO drama, no hissy fits, no annoyance, no back talk and they were so much fun to work with.  I’ve been trying to figure out this group since I got here and I think I’ve successfully found a way to get them to enjoy helping and a little mutual respect goes a long way, which is not quite the tactic of anyone else on campus.  The dynamic is interesting, as is with any 15-18 year old girls, but even more so in this country.  We actually had a team discussion this morning, among the volunteers, about the Lesotho culture, which I will have to discuss later.  It was interesting to hear some of the things Rome and Sr. Catherine discussed last night.  Let’s just say the only girls who go to Tarven are prostitutes so you can imagine where none of us are going anymore, which is totally fine by me.

It rained again, of course!  I just popped a new memory card into my camera today and low and behold, it had all my pics from Peru Round 2 last year (Peru Round 1 was stolen from my pocket in the train station at Machu Picchu, which is why my mom now tells me to shove my memory card up my rectum) and a bunch of other stuff from this past year.  Mungkee, Swandi and Bokahn were in the hall, hiding from the rain with me, and they were completely and totally captivated by all the pictures I had – they couldn’t get enough of the sand dunes and coast line of Peru.  Oh my little guys!  I also had pictures of my first day of FUNemployment when I escaped to Ellensburg for some quality sister time so I showed them pictures and video of my sisters, the Sia concert w/ Swerd and Opening Day w/ Em, Mer, Martina and the entourage.  *sigh* Today marks the longest I’ve been away from home…  A Very Homo Christmas is hanging next to my bed, the rain is pounding on our metal roof while Sia, Breathe Me plays,  and I just kissed my Incredible good night – Matthias’ adorable little face takes up the entire screen *heart*

The Claw

Friday, 07.01.2011

Can your finger muscles get sore?  These lil phalanges are craving my hot Australian masseur crush right about now, like way more than man crush who told me he loved me today, masked in Spanish.  Nice try buck-o!  Apparently people here need no more than a week and one or two conversations to drop the dreaded 4 letter word.  A Gossip song would be playing in my head right now if I wasn’t “blaring” Brandi on Trixie, my netbook… remember? J

I’m workin on Daddy right now and trying to get her to change her flight home and come w/ me to Capetown and swim w/ sharks for the few days before I jet to Europe!  Well, knowing Isabel she will be layin like a beauty in the luscious sand while I’m in a cage underwater, screaming – just the way I like it!  She said she’d shit in her wetsuit and I said she should just skinny dip instead so the little turds would just float freely and she wouldn’t have to regress 28 years to poo squished between her butt cheeks.  She gave me a look but then her eyes got wide as soon as I mentioned the wine/bike tour.  Mmm… Oh yeah, so the Capetown thing is a new addition because we’re just so bloody efficient with work and even with rain days/hours galore, we’re rockin through all our projects, even the ones we’ve added since arriving.  I have 4 days to kill between when we’re done and when I leave Jo-burg and I figured since it’s not often I find myself on the complete opposite end of the world, I should check out the wonderfulness that is Capetown.  My sister spent a term there studying, so I’m excited to see where she spent a lil ditty of her life, and my mom’s old friend lives there (I believe she’s from there too) w/ her husband and runs a B&B and I’m going to meet up with her for some sightseeing.  I can’t wait!  I keep saying that but I can wait because I’m really enjoying myself but ya’ll know what I mean.

I’m trying to ignore the fact I only have 2 ½ weeks left at Holy Names High School in Bela Bela, Lesotho.  L

The sky and clouds in Africa are like none you’ll ever see in the States. AH-MAZ-ING (as KPro would say)!

Isabel just got back into our room and said, “I want to get chickens!” (she lives in Cap Hill).  I gave her a look similar to the one she gave me when I said she should swim naked w/ sharks to take a piece out of the equation in the statement “I would shit my wetsuit.”  We have a pet praying mantis, much to her dismay and now we’re talking about squirt porn… ok… I think it’s time to stop journaling now.

Xxxo,

Dirty, extra bruised