Yo, that is what we thought in the Old Dominion this past week with all these natural disasters. #earthquake#aftershock#thunderstorm#hurricane. I figured the East Coast was just trying to scare me away. Letting me know that it’s okay to go. It’s time to go. Irene gave me an extra day at home when Mr. Bradley had to come board up the beach house for a hurricane and we decided not to stay in the dark. It’s all bittersweet, but I guess that’s how the end times go. We don’t want to leave this place, our friends, our family, the things we know for certain to be true and real, but we do want to check out that unknown reward.
Today in staging we did a lot of the indoctrination into the Peace Corps. This is how things work, this is our secret language, you will be getting yarn–those things. But we also talked about what we expected from our service, our anxieties and aspirations. Mentally, I’d covered the anxieties. I don’t know more agriculture than a Senegalese farmer. My language skills are inadequate. I’m going to have to eat meat–ha! more on that soon. The aspirations bit, however, was a bit of an awakening to me. How will I know that this is all worth it? Well, if I see any positive change as a direct result of my presence, I guess that’s it. That will make it worth it. That will mean I made all the right decisions and I’m headed down the good road. That doesn’t sound too rough. So I’ll keep y’all update on that score.
And now for the story of the night (drum roll)…Went out to dinner with three other volunteers in Georgetown, which was nice because there seemed to be a lot of movement towards big group dinners. We ordered a yummy pitcher of maragaritas to share and I ordered a bean burrito. Enter bean burrito. Or should I say beef burrito. I took the first bite and thought it was a little odd. Then I looked down. It was stringy and more redish brown than the last batch of refried beans I’d seen. Oh, yea, I had eaten a hunk of beef. I shared this with my new friends. They were adequately concerned, warned me about belly aches, offered cheese enchiladas, and supported me when I realised this was probably just my first little taste of Senegal. #miscommunication #goodbyeprivilegedlifestyle. So I ate it. Not with the vigor I usually assume when eating all other things and not in its entirety, but I ATE BEEF. I’ve got a bit of a grumbly belly now, but I think I’m planning on being fine by morning. But for all of you who have tried to feed me meat throughout the last 14 years, you can let out the big hoot-n-holler now. Nevertheless, credit must go where credit is due, to the Peace Corps and developing countries. Definitely not to my brother or any of the members of the Goucher Men’s Ultimate team.
I’m sure there are more things I planned on writing in this, but I can’t think of them right now and should get some sleep/sit on the toilet a while. Next time I write I’ll be in Senegal! See y’all there!
P.S.- Here are my bags. The only thing that is startling to me is the fact that I will have 3 pairs of shoes for 2 years.