Want to be friends?

I got the just-friends-speech. Ugh. That sucks. It could have sucked a whole lot more. Things definitely would not have worked out in the end. But being on the receiving end of one of those speeches when you still like the girl . . . ouch. It was an interesting walk home. I kind of wanted to get jumped. It's slightly sketchy, the road. I sometimes wish I had physical manifestations of the wounds on the inside - not just a glum attitude but contusions and broken bones. Then I wouldn't have to show an effort to get people to see how I feel. Because wearing your emotions on the outside is unattractive - but bleeding? That's effortless and therefore cool. Right? I don't know.

I'll do better next time. At least this girl showed me a life after the L.

Schools of Thought

The Matthew McConaughey School of Thought . You should break a sweat at least once a day. Just break into a sweat. Exercise. You should also be proud of what you smell like.

The Sergent Zoe School of Thought. Do not let the enemy know where you are.

The Theodore Roosevelt School of Thought. Walk softly but carry a big stick. Not exactly doing that yet, but I'd love to.

Letters

I loved receiving letters in the bush. They were my only means of information. I would spend hours reading a writing. I did not receive letters from a lot of my friends. That was truly sad. But some of my friends went beyond the call of duty and wrote many letters. And to them: I thank you. Here is a cool picture that went with a cool advertisement. I love letters. I wish I had the time to write more of them. . .

Guests like fish

Ben Franklin said it best, "guests like fish go bad after three days." How true, Ben. Of course I would not know yet. I live by myself which sometimes sucks. I miss the comradarie of the village. I really do not talk to my neighbors. Possibly because there is a wall with glass shards to keep me from conversing.
I want Peace Corps Volunteers coming from the village to stay at my house. Well see if it's a success. So far I've just had the occasional Coff or Fors stay at my house. They really don't count. Now I'm getting some real guests this month. Yesterday, Sarah. Today, Marsha. Next week, a few kids from Southern. It should be interesting. We'll see if I'm a good host. I think things should be fun. As long as they don't eat my gummie bears (like my housekeeper) or drink my beer (like Katie).

Grassroots VS. Non-Grassoots

I returned from one of the mining capitals yesterday. Whew. What a day of traveling. I met up with various HIV positive clients and interviewed them for our annual report. It was great to see people living positively with HIV. All smiles and whatnot. As for the report it's coming along nicely though we are having a duece of a time getting our health providers to fill out there forms. Ah, this non-grass roots level stuff is so different. Funding sucks.
Grassroots HIV work is a blast. I like roaming around and meeting people. Chatting with the locals about their health concerns.
"You know your baby won't die from diarrhea if you do this . . ."
"You know, condoms don't have HIV in them."
"You know, Peace Corps Volunteers don't get paid."
"I am not a spy."
"No, that will not transmit HIV."
"Ah, that's called Chancroid."

Oh, to be a grass roots guy on the ground. So this is what a "Career in Development" means. I still enjoy myself.

Locks

I chopped the locks. I had a blonde shag and now I have a clean cut look. One of quasi-professionalism. I try sometimes.
It is somewhat difficult to get a decent haircut in this country. The locals are unfamiliar to straight, thick, blonde hair. The chap that trimmed my hair was good. Slight perfectionist but that became an asset. It looks really good. I have not received a professional haircut in a very long time . . . it is refreshing. Sure it cost me a couple day's salary but I think ultimately it will be worth it. Plus, this hot season is killing me, not like up north where my village was, this place is hot.
The capital city is scorching. I sweat so much now. Walking to work makes me icky. Hopefully this semi-short hair cut will do it's job well.

Minor Surgery

Yesterday. I had the chance to watch a minor surgery; the cutting of an adult man's foreskin. It really was not that bad. Actually it was pretty fascinating. I'd never seen a surgery before. Sure, I've had wisdom teeth removed and a mole as well. This was slightly different. Seeing a man's anatomy removed with a scapel and scissors was odd.
I did not feel squeemish one bit. I was oddly curious. I did realize that I do not have what it takes to be a doctor . . . I cannot stand that long. Bad heals/arches or something. I think I learned a lot and it will definitely help out in my job. I think tomorrow I'll be observing some more. Yep. Male circumcision, what a hoot.