Life is good, it usually is here. But life is even better now that school has started back up and I get to teach again. For some volunteers (the lazy ones), they pretty much had the whole summer off since they work primarily in the schools. Whilst I and the other awesome volunteers still have to work every day of the summer. Yea, I'm going to brag about it, it was hard work. How hard was lounging around in your underwear all break? Not hard. I know because I was tired and called in sick one day just so I could work from home in my underwear. Sorry, had to get that of my chest. Maybe it also has something to do with the crazy day at work I had today, but more on that later.
Things are good on the homefront. Lorice went to Barbados for a few days and the missionary ladies went up north, so I was just hanging out by myself. No biggie, but the internet went out. That's not really a problem, I wasn't crying like some 12 year old addicted to the internet. I do however need it for work and peace corps related stuff, plus my phone was out of credit so I was pretty much flying blind for 3 or 4 days. I can live without facebook or surfing the internet for an indefinite amount of time, but email access is pretty important for us here. So, while the internet was down for the past few days I did A LOT of reading and working out/sitting on my ass. There isn't much else to do, especially on a Sunday when it seems like the entire island is dead. This happens every now and then, the whole internet thing going out and Lorice being out of town so I can't fix it. Typically, I'll just watch a movie on my lap top to pass the time--I feel like time moves incredibly slow here--but this go around I was all out of movies. I have seen all the ones on my computer multiple times already from other instances when the internet was down. I got the internet fixed when the missionaries came back home and the world was right again.
Monday was the first day of school. I was pumped. I had missed the kids too much. My school attachment days, despite how bat shit crazy they tend to be, are a nice breath of fresh air from being at NaDMA 5 days a week. I was glad to see that my school principal and counterpart, Ms. Phillip, was back in action. She fell ill at the end of last term and had to go abroad to get treatment. I had no way of knowing what was wrong or whether she was okay all break, I asked around a lot, but everyone's guess was as good as mine. She said in assembly Monday morning that she was fine and healthy now. She told me that she was diagnosed with adult onset diabeetus (I think there was another problem she mentioned, but diabetes stuck out in my mind). I wasn't all that surprised with the news about the big D. I mean, I have no idea what she eats or when she exercises, but diabetes seems to be an issue on the island. It's no wonder, too. There's tons of sugary goodness running around the island and not enough people exercising. A lot of the kids at school will devour 3 or 4 different unhealthy snacks during break and lunch, EACH DAY. It's like that silly quote floating around these days "Elementary math problems are weird. 'I had 10 chocolate bars and ate 9. What do I have now' Oh, I don't know, DIABETES MAYBE?" Thankfully, the home-ec teacher is having the kids research high blood pressure for their next assignment, a step in the right direction. Right, so this year at school I will be working along side Mr. George, the only male teacher at the school. He's a cool guy. He teaches the 6th grade class which means I will be working with most of the students I had last term in 5th grade, plus a few others who failed last term. I'm basically his muscle, I'm supposed to help him keep class order, grade, and assist whenever I can. I doesn't make sense for me to be his muscle though. I can mean mug these kids all day, but they know my weakness: I don't give them lashes like the other teachers so they try and get away with things. Not on my watch kiddos. I might as well be the goddam Batman, nothing gets past me in that classroom, especially underground crime. They think no one sees them misbehaving, but I see all. Anyways, I'll be at the school on Mondays and Tuesdays, but those days are flexible. I told Mr. George at the end of the day Tuesday that after he gives the students their competency test I will work with the students that are behind in certain subjects. Our goal is to have them all graduate and make it to the secondary school of their choice.
So, my crazy day at work on Wednesday. I show up to NaDMA looking good, dressed to the nines if you will. My boss, Mr. Peters, is about to walk out the door when he sees me and asks if I want to go to the warehouse with him. Since I didn't really have anything to work on in the office I said I would go. He told me to go change into some jeans and our polo shirts. I didn't think much of this request because the warehouse has no AC, it feels like a sauna. While talking with him on the way to the warehouse I ask Mr. Peters what exactly we are doing. He tells me we are just moving a few things around and taking inventory, sounds easy. Well we get to the area the warehouse is located, only we pull off to the opposite side of the street and drive down this overgrown road. After driving through some small trees we pull up to this old looking warehouse with two other NaDMA staff sitting outside. I've not seen this warehouse before, so I ask Mr. Peters what we are really doing. He says that this is an older warehouse NaDMA used to use, but now we are giving it to a different agency so we need to clear it out and move things around. At this point I'm still thinking this isn't going to be too difficult. Then, we open the barn doors and I get my first glimpse. It looked like a crack house. There were piles of junk everywhere, bird and bat shit covering most of it. There was no organization, boxes lay decomposed everywhere with their contents spilling out. The wood pallets that held some organized boxes were rotten. The air was thick and smelt like mold and stale disease. The upper level in the back had collapsed through to the floor below. A box of Johnson's Baby Lotion to-go packs had spilled out onto the floor so you slipped on them wherever you walked. Why someone would need a 6 month supply of baby lotion is beyond me. We worked in the warehouse for 3 hours, moving boxes and random, filthy junk towards the front, attempting to organize it. I thought the other warehouse was hot, but this one was brutal. At the end of the 3 hours I was able to ring sweat out of my polo shirt and my jeans were wet all over. It's no easy feat so sweat through a pair of jeans like that, that's think material. A little heads up next time would be nice. Like, "Oh hey, Mr. Taylor, would you like to come do strenuous labor for the next 3 hours in a hot box with us?" I'll probably still say yes, but I like to be prepared for these things. On the bright side, my boss said "Because of the conditions we are working in we can be done at 1pm and go home", also there were some barrels full of unused syringes and medical equipment that I hope can still be put to use. And lastly, amidst all the bats flying around the warehouse, there was this stoic owl perched up on a beam just watching over us, he was cool. After this beast of a workout we drove into town to get some roti for lunch, then I took a monster nap before heading to football practice (as if my body needed more punishment).
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| Yayyy so much fun! |
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| Oh, no, these mattresses are totally reusable. |
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| Messy |
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| When people ask me to babysit, this is usually what I give the kids to play with |
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| My. Lyons (left) and my boss Mr. Peters (right) |
Katie peer pressured me into meeting her and Christine for breakfast at this little restaurant downtown Thursday morning. All of the volunteers had to be in town that morning, even Crystal who lives on Carriacou. Our medical officer, or PCMO, was visiting the island to give us shots and some more training/presentations. So, I woke up early and headed to town to be on time for Katie, who apparently doesn't play by the rules and showed up late. After a delicious meal of tania log and bakes it was shot time. Thanks to my brief adventure in Kenya I had a few more shots in my system to begin the PC with so I usually don't have to get many when the doc visits. This time, I got the new flu shot and my last Rabies shot (series of 3). According to Dr. Jeremy, you only need the Rabies shots once in your life. Fear not friends, if we are ever surrounded by a pack of vicious canines, I will sacrifice myself. In truth, I wish Obama would have just given us the money for the shots instead, apparently it's $400 a pop. We could use that cash, sir. The presentations Dr. Jeremy gave us dealt mainly with sexual assault. We also did this cool little "Talking Circle" thing as a group. It sounds a bit silly, but it was great. All of us volunteers (there are 17 of us now) sat in a circle with Dr. Jeremy and passed around a dirty bird feather Katie found. When the feather came to you, you just talked about how life was in Grenada, things that were frustrating you, whatever you wanted, and no one would interrupt you. The feather went around the circle 3 times so you could talk all you want and get stuff off your chest. It was nice to hear from the older volunteers how they were getting more and more excited to get home (they COS in January). They also explained to some of us volunteers who are frustrated with work about the many peaks and valleys of service they had themselves. Times when they felt useless and times when they were incredibly busy, it's just the way it works here sometimes. Some of us were talking about the gender roles on the island and how frustrating it is when a lot of the Grenadian men feel sexually entitled. During this conversation I explained to the other volunteers how in my community I'm currently juggling a number of fake girl friends, some by choice. To explain, a lot of people in the community or at work will constantly ask questions about my relationship status. Guys want me to just go out and whine up on anything that walks and has boobs, it's more or less a part of the male culture here. Girls just want me to be their wives because they think that I have money and will buy them gifts or take them to America. Remember that time at work when I came back from the wedding in Augusta? Some of the guys mistook my happiness from hanging out with camp kids to mean that I got some action when I went to America for Taylor and Erin's wedding, and I told them they were right just so they wouldn't annoy me for awhile. Well that was the first fake girl friend I had, and one I still feel guilty about. According to my football team, Katie is my wife and Mack is my girlfriend because I was with them at a concert on the fort. I wasn't surprised they thought this, I was surprised that they saw nothing wrong with me having a wife and a girlfriend. At Fish Friday a couple weeks ago, Errin and I pretended to be married so that some guy would stop creeping on her. It was weird when some lady came over to me and said that she could tell Errin was my wife because we were good together. Ha. Then, there is my neighbor who desperately wants to marry me and I think she also wants to jump my bones. It was comical the first time when she told people I was her fiance, now it's unacceptable to hear that because I don't think people realize it isn't true. She could easily ruin my reputation in the community, not that she is a bad person, she is really nice, but you know how rumors work. Lastly, for my kids (both my neighbors and ones I teach) I invented a fake girlfriend. I didn't really put much thought into this girl. One day the kids were asking if I had a girl, I saw the opportunity, and said yes. This way they would stop pestering me about their older sisters. No, kids, I am not interested in your sister, I do not "find her lookin cute", besides she is 17.. So that's how this other fake girl friend started, but its not over yet. A couple weeks later the kids wanted to know her name. Oh god, I couldn't let myself get caught... So I said, "Uhhh how about you try and guess her name". This way I could just pick one of the names they said that I liked. Well they were coming up with really bad and weird names, so I gave them a first letter, L. After a few more rounds of playing this game, my fake girlfriend now goes by the name of Laura. This news kept them quiet for another week or so. Now, they are asking for pictures. I'm screwed. This has already gotten out of hand and I have put off showing them pictures 3 or 4 times already, they might be catching on. I don't feel comfortable showing them a picture of a friend back home and pretending that she is this fictional Laura character. I'm afraid they next time they ask I am going to have to do the unthinkable. I must break up with my fake girl friend...
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| Peace and Love from Grenada |
I think that's enough for y'alls reading pleasure for now. In other news, my spectacular older brother and his wife are expecting a child and I could not be happier. Happy for me because I'm going to be an uncle! Just kidding, I'm ecstatic for them!! Congrats Porter Case and Rebecca! Hopefully, I can do some math and fly out to Cali in time to see this beautiful baby for a few days. I would hate to not get to see him/her until I finish service and then the child is already 2 years old. No thanks.
That's all for now, folks.
Brice
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