Last leg of the tour

I'm in California right now, I got here yesterday and I'm leaving on Tuesday. My brother and his family are out here, so I came to see them and say goodbye and happy birthday to my brother before I leave for such a long time. My nephews are pretty adorable and will be full grown men by the time I get back (exaggeration, they'll be in 2nd grade and kindergarten when I return, but that seems so grown up for how they are now).

I have a week left in the states when I get home to Florida, and all of the sudden that seems like no time at all. All along I've had this pretty decent timeline in my head (and on paper) of what needed to be done when, and there was always this trip as a buffer between getting things ready to go and actually going. I haven't packed anything yet. I'm not as worried about that as one might think, considering the length of the trip I'm going on and my destination, because the best advice on packing from the most knowledgable people (those who have done this, and those in country) has been to take what makes me happy, some underwear, and enjoy my time left with friends and family. Sounds good. Although, I did just go by two more things: a cover for my Osprey pack so the do-dads and belts don't get snagged in a conveyor belt when I check it, and a short wave radio that, sadly, runs on AAA batteries. (I'd wanted a hand-crank version).

I am thinking about getting a new tattoo before I go - completely impulsive and irresponsible and possibly unsafe, but I kind of love it... One of my best friends had a dream (after lunch with me and a cry fest about missing me, which in turn made me cry) that I had a tattoo (and she may have had one too I forget) of a little planet and an alien ship and some stars and the words "look up" to remind us that we were still under the same sky... I already have a tiny star on my foot, and I feel like the words "look up" would make me happy when I'm lonely. I have to figure out if a week is enough time to heal it before I step off a plane in the middle of Africa, land of crazy diseases. I'm sure PC would not approve.

Lastly, I wanted to share the coolest project ever that I get be a part of. I know that the PC blogosphere is pretty close knit, so you all may already know about this since I'm super late posting about it, but I'm so excited to have been in the actual real life, not online, conversation that conceived the idea :) Kim, Jessica, and I went bowling last weekend with the UF group of PC applicants, RPCVs and the UF recruiter, and we started talking about a journal project that Kim is involved in with some of her friends in Vegas. She thought it would transfer awesomely to PC and we agreed. Basically what has come of it is this: Snapshots of Service. Over the course of 2011, 50 volunteers who leave for service in 50 different countries will be mailing each other a journal that everyone will have a small section to do what we want with. We'll have it for a week before we mail it on to the next volunteer. I'm getting the journal second, and then I'll get it again about a year or so in. Hopefully if this all goes well we'll look into getting it published to add to the many resources for future PCVs written by RPCVs (just like the Unofficial Peace Corps Volunteer Handbook!)

The other side

Yesterday was intense. I got up around 4:30, deflowered the french press coffee maker I'd bought the day before (along with about 100 other items, ouch) and got started on setting up my garage sale. Three hours, two cups of coffee and a nip of bailey's later, things were in full swing and I was wired. I sat in my freezing cold driveway watching people paw at my things, talk to themselves, ask if any of the stuff left in the garage was for sale (um, no? that's why it's not out here with a price tag on it) and then low-ball me for everything. At the end of the day some friends showed up to hang out while I packed up the left overs and drove them to goodwill. I kind of regret getting rid of my green bathing suit top and my silver mirror, but the top didn't have a matching bottom, the Ugandan welcome book says to bring a one piece, and the mirror was pulling away from the frame in one corner, so I'm just going to get over both things and move on with my life. We got sushi for lunch, and while it was delicious, I paid for it later. I fell asleep from about 3-5 in the afternoon and woke up feeling so incredibly sick. I'm sure it was a combination of getting no sleep the night before, too much coffee (my stomach doesn't handle the acid well, so I'm usually just a one or two cup girl) filling myself with udon noodles and raw fish, and then stressing out about the fact that all of my earthly possessions were gone. It felt like I was on a different planet or in a different time zone.

I am so incredibly excited to begin this...

a good place

I just woke up from a dream that did not start, but ended at my staging in Philly in two and a half weeks. I had not filled out any of the required paperwork, not gotten a power of attorney, and had to write a statement responding to "What qualities do you, as a Leo, have that should make us feel more comfortable giving you a PC PC (Peace Corps Purchase Card) when most likely you have little to no credit." First thing I did was panic because of that whole they-changed-the-zodiac thing, and I'm not a Leo anymore (but I will always count myself as one, they can change it for the next group of kids being born, I'm grandfathered in as far as I am concerned) then I wrote about was how I am an amazing budgeter (because I can be when I want) and how I actually do have good credit because I am a grown up who had lots of things in her own name like a cell phone and utilities and cable and leases and credit cards with zero balance. Apparently I was writing all these things on a piece of day old toast, because the paper/toast kept crumbling away. It was a mess and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't have let me on the plane had I not woken up soon thereafter.

I hung out with some friends last night who were all pretty excited about my adventures, which in turn made me more excited. One guy reiterated what I am trying to remember when packing: "I'd go with the clothes on my back, minimal everything else, and buy all the cool shit they have over there. They've got to have some cool shit." Thanks Jordan :)

I feel like I am in a very good place getting ready wise. I've finished cleaning out my storage - which involved going through every single box or bin and repacking what I want to keep (much to the chagrin of my mom...) and making a HUGE pile of things to get rid of. I am having a garage sale, weather permitting, tomorrow, after which I'm taking all the left overs to Goodwill and will be done with that phase. I'm doing all the financial stuff today, going to my bank, calling credit cards, etc. Next week I can focus on getting the paperwork all filled out and finalized, I leave on Thursday to spend a long weekend in California with my brother for his 38th (holy shit) birthday and to say bye to my nephews. I will get back and have one week to pack. I have a goodbye party/night out with drinks on the Saturday before leaving. When people ask if I'm ready to go, all I can think is "I will be when it's time..."

Lastly, the Kindle is for sure growing on me. I got all the free books I could find that sounded the least bit interesting, and then I spent $250 on everything else I've wanted. Oops.

I bought a Kindle. Or, A Commentary on American Society and its Consumerism

I caved. I am still uneasy with my purchase, no matter how much people tell me it's the greatest thing in the world. I feel like I'm betraying my childhood obsession with perusing the bookstore near my moms shop, sitting for hours and getting lost in a copy of The Babysitters Club, or staying up until three am reading The Diary of Anne Frank, only stopping because my mom came in and physically took the book away. My heart sank a little when I clicked "place order", and I still haven't gotten very excited about it. I wonder what my dad would think. He had a library of books in his house, some of which I've kept and some I've gotten rid of (though it honestly pained me to do so). He was also into technology though, and had to have the latest and greatest everything.

I think I figured out another reason why it's not sitting well with me either - I'm taking with me technology to make my life easier and more comfortable while I'm living in a developing nation. None of the Ugandans I live with or work with are going to have Kindles, they're not going to be fretting about reading their e-reader in bright sunlight, or how long the battery lasts or the classics they can get for free since the copyrights have expired. If they have books at all, they're going to be paper and ink. If I'm truly to integrate into my community, shouldn't I just do as they do? People have asked me how I'm going to deal with bucket baths and pit latrines while I'm over there, and I just say that millions of people do that every day of their lives, why can't I do it for two years? It's certainly not going to kill me, it's just different from what we know here. I think I just feel uneasy accumulating unnecessary things (because let's be honest, that's what they are) to make my life easier. I am not trying to preach or condemn anyone here, because I am just as guilty of it as anyone, it just seems like in America we have all of our basic needs met, so we have begun to see "wants" as "needs". I have an iphone that I'm addicted to (though that lately has been making me uncomfortable too, but that's another entry), I have a laptop, three digital cameras, two ipods, etc., etc. All of these things make my life easier, but where is the line between want and need? I need to communicate, but do I need facebook at my fingertips and a million apps? I need to listen to music, but do I need 10,000 songs in my pocket? I love taking and looking at pictures, but my dslr is honestly ridiculous (though I do love it!)

There is just such a dichotomy that I'm beginning to be way more aware of as I get closer and closer to the biggest change of my life so far.

my other four-fifths

I'm sitting on my bed, half under my covers, drinking a too-sweet raspberry coffee, surrounded by my pets (all both of them, if you count that as being "surrounded") I just got home from my "Good-Bye" weekend with my four best friends. I don't even know if they can be described simply as best friends, because they are the closest things to sisters I have in my life, other than my sister-in-law, Jackie :) The five of us grew up on two parallel streets in the same neighborhood; Jenny, Jamie, and me on one street, Kristina and Sarina on the other. Jenny's mom and mine met when they were pregnant with us, and Jamie moved in two houses down from us when we were three or four months old. I forget when Sarina and Kristina got there (I want to say it was before they were born?) but either way the five of us entered the same kindergarten class in August of 1988, already BFFs.

We sometimes had the same teachers, sometimes didn't. Sometimes we were all in a fight, sometimes closer than close. Sometimes we broke off in twos or threes, or did our own thing, but that's what sisters do, right? We graduated from the same high school and went to college - four of us at UF, Sarina an hour and a half away. Jenny and I lived together for most of college (except freshman year when we were in different dorms) and Jamie had a key to our place so she could nap on our couch between classes. When Jenny moved away for grad school it was the furthest we'd ever been from one another. We even have a matching pair of cats, now separated by a two hour drive, but I am pretty sure they have forgotten about one another.

My girls took me to The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, despite the fact that not one of them has read the books or seen the movies. They put up with me being a total geek about every detail there, wanting to ride all the rides, and knowing the answer to every question they had. I bought a Gryffindor scarf, which is conveniently the same colors as the flag of Uganda, so I can bring it with me and say I'm being proud of my new country (not that I wouldn't have brought it with me anyway...) They made me a cup with my name on it, and lyrics to our song (Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer, duh) and Jamie bought everyone a bottle of wine called Five Friends. We ate cheese and crackers, made dinner, went out to breakfast, slept on couches, and talked late into the night. I cried a few times when it hit me that I haven't gone through any major events in my life without at least one of these girls by my side. Kristina lived in France for what felt like twenty years with her boyfriend turned fiancee turned husband, and we knew she was coming back, but me going to Uganda feels different somehow. Africa is different from France. This will be new.



Left to right: Me, Jamie, Sarina, Jenny (pregnant with Emmie), and Kristina. This was in 2009 (over new year's) when we went to Busch Gardens for Jamie's bachelorette weekend.