The Long Road Home

The long road home….

That evening the teachers were supposed to go out for dinner together. Well, they all did. But when the bus that was leaving at 7p was still in the driveway at 7:30, I got off. I could not deal with waiting for the table, the slow service, the lack of veggie options, cats everywhere, and all of the other quirks i normally found endearing about restaurants in Somaliland. K and I had popcorn and candy for dinner while we watched a movie instead. I don’t even remember which movie. I am sure I cried throughout though.

The next day, at some point mid-morning I decided I was done. I was not scheduled to leave campus for another two days or so, but I was done. I was the only one in the office, caring about leaving some semblance of order in the office and with student records and not happy about not having someone to receive my files. I was done. I had been 90% packed for a few weeks now, but I finished packing in about 45 minutes and we headed to town on the next available bus.

I honestly forget who we stayed with the first few nights. I think we headed straight to Sabaax’s house. Here two sons, H and A, were K’s best buddies. We also stayed with Ahmed, the board member that we became friends with, for a few nights. It was a nice, mellow day or two before we began adventuring in Burco.

Burco is the second largest city in Somaliland and is a few hours east of Hargeisa. Despite the students warnings about the dangers, Stephanie (a teacher), K and myself took a bus (large van) to Burco. It took five or six hours and we went through the Shiekh mountains. It was a nice drive! As always, one  of the passengers on the bus became our steward, ensuring the students were picking us up and that we had a place to stay. Its so nice to have strangers invest the time and energy to make sure we are safe and comfortable, without us even asking! I love this country.

Ramadan began a day or two before we left for our adventure. Muslims fast from sun up to sun down during this time. Steph and I were prepared to do so as well, and K knew that he would not have lots of food to eat, but that I did have peanut butter and crackers for him if he needed. Despite our intentions and desire to respect and take part in this culture, when we arrived to A’s house, her mother had a feast waiting for us- pizza, chicken, pasta, custard, fruit, samboosas, and Im sure Im forgetting some things! They are not eating all day, yet made all this food for us! And, A told her mom that I was a vegetarian. “Don’t worry,” she tells me when we are there. “She only put a little bit of meat in everything.” J

Food, TV, guest bedroom, wonderful! Kenai had all the Fanta he wanted. Life was good here! The next day we went to the market and did bought one last scarf (I may have bought two or three. My memory is fuzzy.), and went on a driving tour of the city Then, back to the house for a mid-day feast. Just Steph, Kenai and myself, as the rest were fasting. Yet there was food for twenty on the table! We did a good job of eating- Steph and Kenai ate more meat than normal, and I more carbs. A cousin came over and painted our henna too. I LOVED my full arms, and Kenai got he-who-must-not-be-named on his arm. So fun! B’s family has about eight kids, and a handful of cousins were running around too. K had fun playing with them with the soccer ball we brought. They had an outdoor area about as big as a small kitchen. We all hung out there for most of the afternoon. That evening, the father took us out for dinner. It was a lovely restaurant, complete with no menu, cats everywhere, and all of the time in the world. J

On our final day there, we stayed with R. Her family was all ladies! I could tell they were fun people. On campus, when I randomly say a Somali word in a sentence full of English, everyone gets excited! But, when in this town and at the students’ homes, it obvious how little Somali I know. I wish I was able to better communicate with these wonderful people. R is super shy too, so she did not translate too often. Even without speaking, there was a very warm and comfortable feeling among everyone.

The homes are quite modest, most with outdoor kitchens. Two of the three had pit toilets outside and no running water. I believe all three cooked over charcoal. The general set-up was one large building with a hallway down the middle and four bedrooms. One bedroom was the living room, where the guests sat. Then there was a master bedroom, a girls’ bedroom, and a boys’ bedroom. In two cases, we slept in the master bedroom. I’m still awed by their generosity and hospitality!

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Last trip to the beach.

All along Jon has been telling me that the beach is miserable. I went in Oct and it was amazing! February, lovely! April, couldn’t not have been nicer! August, miserable. I hate to say it, but in August, Jon is correct, the beach is miserable. Its super hot, the AC barely works, its windier than heck, and its just not fun. Plus, the best deal I could negotiate was $10 off our total bill. Ugh. In the water, all was great! It was warmly refreshing and not as wavey as one would think. But out of the water, the wind was blowing the sand at painful rates! Seriously, the three of us had welts on our skin because of this! At least we had a cold shower and nice meal to look forward to, or so we thought….

The service at the otherwise lovely restaurant at the hotel was really, really bad. Per the above, we understood that it was Ramadan and did not expect them to take our order right when we sat, though they did give us menus. Generally, the polite thing to do during Ramadan is when you serve everyone watermelon and dates to break fast, serve them to EVERYONE, especially the children and guests. Well, we sat through the first prayer, watched the staff break fast, chat, then pray again. Finally, the unapologetic server came over and took our order. I was not happy. And I was hungry. Watch out. K ordered French toast, per the item and description on the menu. First, he got French fries, then plain toast, then finally his order. Three times!! For our last meal out in Somaliland, this was by far my worst experience. It was disappointing to say the least.

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Heading home

You have to love that on Thursday (or whatever the day before we left was), when we are supposed to fly out on Friday we hear through the grapevine that instead of flying out of Berbera, we are flying out of Hargeisa. This is like the difference between Midway and Milwaukee and only having side streets to get you from A to B. How  are we supposed to deal with this? 

We left the beach a day earlier since we were no longer flying out of there. Finally, the van/bus left for Hargeisa after waiting quite a while to fill it up. We were about ¾ of the way home when we stopped to break fast. We pulled over to the side of the road. There was your standard, non-descript hut. A handful of men were squatting on prayer mats. We were ushered over to one and sat. Promptly, we were served slices watermelon, two bags of dates, and our samboosas. Don’t for the cup full of luke warm sugar water with a drop of tea. We sat in silence, amongst this group of strangers, silent in our own prayers, watching the dusky sky turn from light orange to deep red to black, watching the stars begin to appear one, two, fifteen at a time after the sun set. Peaceful. Quiet. Comfortable. Beautiful. We offered a few dollars for the food and cha, but no no, a stranger on the bus took care of it for us. That is what I want my last memory of Somliland to be. All was well in my soul at that moment.

*****

Arriving back in Hargeisa, we called the school, rather Stephanie did as I knew how warmly I’d be received. They said we just had to find our own place to stay in town because they did not want to send a car. Fabulous. So much for the warm fuzzy feeling I had moments ago.

After letting two board members know we were not welcomed at the school, we stayed with one of the students. Actually, S was the first student to have K and myself over for lunch. It was very fitting to have our last night in town be with her. Her family is truly lovely and we got to know them a bit over the year. It turned out to be wonderful.

The next morning, as S’s family took us to the airport, we passed two students- Kenai’s chess teacher and one of my favorite advisees. We could not have planned to see them, but it was great to wave one more time. Sigh.Good-bye Somaliland.

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A cry in Dubai

Though not exactly perky, I did not cry again until I could see the lights in Dubai. A week before we left, two students left for the states to begin their scholarship abroad. One of M’s first reactions was, “Why didn’t you tell us the US was this great and had all of this stuff! I had no idea!” I imagine the same lights that he awed with wonderment, I awed with resentment. Take me back to the hut on the side of the road! I am not ready to leave simple, nurturing Somaliland! I cannot handle the infrastructure, the lights, the costs, the choices, the preservatives, the fakeness, the waste, the blinders, the self-centeredness. I don’t want to leave!

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NYC to SJ

Long stories short, tea at the Plaza in NYC with Cara and Grace was a far cy from my little hut 48 hours earlier, but it was my choice to go there and I was able to enjoy it. Some of the things I have not enjoyed but had to adapt to are paying for my luggage and the suitcase dollies in the states! The US is the only place that makes you pay for luggage dollies. And tipping. It took me a few good months to get used to tipping again (and Im still not the most generous person, admittedly). Although I did pay for a ride from a random person who asked us if we needed on in JFK instead of standing in the taxi line, we had a plan: NYC with the Malcolms, Chicago with the family and friends, drive to Denver for more visiting, the to Santa Clara. Kelly would graciously house us for a while until we figured life out. I made it to the steps of JVC, where Kelly works, and then I lost it again. There were no more tangible to-dos or activities on my calendar. We had made it back to Santa Clara, where we started just over a year ago, and I had no idea what to do next.

After the Fact...

Since Im back in CA and working a ‘real job’ that has a certified risk management team making decisions about where I can or cannot travel, I’m know its not as important to keep you all informed about my life at AT, but for my sake, I want to reflect on the last few weeks there, coming back here, and the first few months of life here. All in 500 words or less! Okay, Im not limiting myself, but I am going to finish where I left off.

Happy Birthday to me. :/

One of the more memorable nights for me at AT was Jul 9^th-10^th. My birthday. A is one of my favorite students (have you noticed they are all my favorites?!?!). Yes, he is rough around the edges, usually inappropriate, and known for making the only wrong decision available when presented with 10 other right ones, but we are buddies. He has a kind heart, is very intelligent, and keeps a very watchful eye on many folks at the school, Kenai included. He has more than one run-in with the administration and this particular evening, push was coming to shove and on July 9^th, my bday eve, I was sitting in his expulsion hearing. This time, technically he ditched a class, my class. That is what he was on trial for. During that class period, when a good dozen other kids were late or also not in my class (it was a study hall on the weekend), a pair of shoes disappeared from one of the students rooms. Two of the administrators in particular are hard to deal with during these hearings. One really does view the kids as adults and treats them as such. This administrator is not good as being reserved and has to speak everything that is on his mind at the moment and make the other person feel as small and wrong as possible, including things that happened way back when and are not relevant for this conversation. The other, I think was just on a power trip. It was ugly. I hated it. He admitted he was not in the class without hesitation, and also insisted he did not take the shoes. His alibi checked out, but most were convinced he was guilty.

We sent A out of the room to discuss. Yet, there was no room for discussion. He was gone in the morning. We always have one student there, the same student, representing the student council. He said it best to one of the administrators: “You say you are like family, like a father to these kids, but when they mess up, instead of helping them you kick them out.” Well, as if I was not emotional enough already that night! Just after midnight, we called him back in and told him to go to bed, we’d talk in the morning. Happy Birthday to me. Ugh.

In contrast, a few of the girls wanted to come wish me a happy birthday at midnight. Blatantly ignoring the ‘no students in teach housing’ rule, five of them snuck over with cards in hand. They were as giddy as could be! It was a great distraction as we whispered, took a few victory pictures, and I gave them a tour of my room. After a few minutes, we were ready to sneak them back into their dorms. Well, wouldn’t you know, two teachers chose that night lay outside, chatting and star gazing. There were there for over an hour! Aye. Stiffling giggles, peeking out to see if the teachers were still there, and finally being able to tip-toe home, that is a night the girls and I will remember forever! Especially them I have a feeling. J

In the morning, I asked to be there when they told AR the news. I was told the wrong time and wrong location. Super. I walked in halfway through. No need to go into details, but it was not good. The reason Im good with A not being at the school is that I know he never would have been given a fair shot. No matter how good he was in the future, some people never would have let go of the past. I told him this and he seemed to understand. More words were exchanged as the process continued, and his family called me to ask what was going on. It was sad and heartbreaking. He can K played their last monopoly game. It was my first in a slew of upcoming goodbyes.

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I think the rest of the time passed fairly uneventfully. Eventually my two-a-days caught up to me and I threw out my back pretty badly. Very badly. About ten days (and a lot of herbal medicine) later, I was all good and out push-uping them again.

The last few days at the school were a mix of everything. Instead of class on the last day, my 7a writing class and I all made breakfast together. It was a really nice change of pace! And at the assembly the night before we said our good byes, the students were all given the chance to speak. I held it together during that, and graciously accepted so many of their wonderful gifts (including two books on becoming Muslim). The next day, however, I was a mess. It started with a miscommunication- I was supposed to help put report cards together, but no one else was there to do it. I was close to walking away, but thought the student deserved them. Then, in doing the merge, I noticed some of the grades were wrong. Whoever did the formula for GPA reconverted the grades incorrectly. Considering it should have been done 24 hours before that and I was not supposed to be doing this, I was not happy. It was frustrating to say the least, especially a half hour before I was going to say good-bye to my kiddos. The tears started. And did not stop for two days. It was endearing to see many of the boys awkwardly try to cheer me up. The girls just cried with me. Sigh. Until we met again.

The end is near...

July 22, 2011

Aye. 15 more days. I was looking at my picture tonight. Just the ones that are ‘saved’ on my camera. Wow, what a year! I have some unreal pictures from spring break- the safaris and falls. And Ethiopia during Christmas. I have a hard time believing I took those pictures. And seeing K and me on all sorts of falling apart buses almost looking like we belong there- it has been unexplainable. It’s hard to believe it is ending.

I am SO sad to be saying good-bye! I think back to some of my first memories here: living in Hargeisa, trekking around on the public buses, having NO idea what I was doing in a classroom full of kinders who spoke no English. Hello LOTS of itsy bitsy spider and hokey pokey! Watching a goat being skinned, teaching computer class and not knowing any of their names, reading books for class together in the library, practicing football, sneaking girls into my room on my bday so they could see a teacher housing unit, talking religion and culture, many rides in the most falling apart bus of them all, all of the phrases and words that get lost in translation,  watching K learn to break dance with some of the boys on stage in a room full of students, writing haikus together in writing class, crying with students over basketball playing time, the list goes on. What am I going to do in 15 days without this?!?

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26 July

Well, Im officially not a teacher anymore. The students all call the teachers ‘Teacher.’ Its not my favorite. No, I am no longer their teacher so they cannot call me that anymore. Ha!

Though I am dreading the good-byes, I am ready to get on the road! After the students leave here, I will spend a day or two in Hargeisa, then head to Burco (the second largest city in Somaliland), then to the Beach for two nights. I fly out a week from Sunday. We have about 11 hours in Dubai, a quick layover in London, three days in New York (yea Cara!!), Chicago for a week, on the road to Denver for a week, then San Jose. Then….!!!!?????

Kenai is doing well. There is no more tutoring or classes for him, so he is a little bored. Starting tomorrow I will have more time to play with him. He is a funny kid nonetheless though. Over dinner this week we were talking about going to the beach with some of the other teachers. Specifically, there is such great diving in Berbera and how great would one last trip there be? Puffing on a cigarette (as he does once an hour at least), one commented he doesn’t really like to scuba dive. K retorted: yeah, it’s really hard to smoke underwater. J

He has a summer homework packet to work on for third grade. There is lots of writing. My favorite topic was ‘how did you spend the 4^th of July.’ He wrote a little compare and contrast of independence day here and in the states. Another good one was, What did you do on a really hot day? ‘I went snorkeling between Somalia and Yemen.’ What a year and what perspective this kid has now.

While doing math homework, Kenai  very straight-faced explain to me that we should stay here for two more years because his math teacher had two more years here as a student. After that he’d be ready to take the AT entrance exam, but he still wanted to live in the teacher housing when he was a regular student, not in the gross boys dorms. Despite the hesitation over leaving his math teacher, he is very excited to go back to Rocketship, tell Trey all about his adventures, and teach Brody about math and reading. It is great- I was telling some story to the teachers about K and his best buddy back home. No less than three teachers said, ‘Is this Trey you are talking about?’ There is no doubt he misses his friend. Im not sure what the ‘right’ decision is, but part of both of us is anxious to see our loved ones in the states again.

The other side of town

July 12, 2011

Last night I was chatting for a long while with one of the students. Although Im positive he knew I was leaving, I don’t think it hit him until last night. First, a little background: one of the first days of school he was brutally sick to his stomach. I brought him medicine and water. Months later he professed that that was when he knew we were going to get along. He was the first to call me ‘mum’ and is one of the boys I can get away with patting on the back without making uncomfortable. We were chatting last night. He was not happy. I got sad. We comforted each other. In talking, I stated one of the reasons I came was to have my life enriched by the students and hopefully enrich their lives a bit. Kenai too. Kenai mostly perhaps. There a million clichés I can insert here to support that, but I think that is the most accurate and honest answer to why are you here: to enrich my life and to possibly enrich someone elses. In that sense, mission accomplished.

Tonight I am on the ‘other’ side of town to attend a USAID conference. I walk into the hotel where my conference is and I realize that even on this side of town I know 6 of the 8 people in the lobby- they are all locals and I know them all for different reasons. I participate in the conference with actual experiences, observations, and theories about Somaliland to share with the others. I am a contributing member of this society.

This evening I had a girls’ night with someone I meet on a plane and many of her NGO friends. I really, really liked them!! There was a woman from Sweden and she is based in Panama, the Bostonian based in Somaliand, and a Brit, Italian, and Somali-American based in Nairobi. We were all relatively the same age. Half of us moms. All with a sense of humor, a great heart, and a slight realistically-cynical perspective on, well, everything!

Those three, or was it four, tidbits make me sad, yet also put perspective on many things. It has been a roller coaster ride working here. Some for the reasons you’d think- slow internet, sketchy food, wearing a headscarf, etc.;  but also mainly because of my boss. Tonight reinforced that for all of the conflicts I have had with the AT administration, I am not the crazy one! Or at least I am not as crazy as he would make me out to be. I have made connections independently of AT and do add value to most conversations here (at the conference). I represent the school well and, if I was allowed to do so and the boss would come along with me, I would do a good job networking the school with some major funders. Also, I really do like it here! Sure, I miss Jamba Juice and all of you reading this right now, and movie theaters and green curry with tofu, but I have started to find my own niche and a decent work-life balance, as much as is possible living at a boarding school in a fairly removed village. I am not ready to leave. 

Its the Climb

20 June 2011

Writing class. 6:58am. We started this morning like we do half of the mornings, with an SAT writing prompt. This morning’s was: What gives us more pleasure and satisfaction: the pursuit of our desires or the attainment of them?

For sure, I thought they would all relate to the question via the Miley Cyrus song, The Climb: “There’ll always be another mountain. I’m always going to want to make it move. It’s not about what’s waiting on the other siiiiiide. It’s the cliiiimb.” I quote Miley- surely I must be the coolest teacher ever!

TIA. And they are teenagers so I will never be cool (I don’t think people are even cool anymore- what are they nowadays?). Only one student vaguely recognized it after I went through a few more verses (speaking, not singing, don’t worry). Sheesh.

I like the question. I like that Miley song. I am so much more intrigued by the journey to get anywhere than I am about the end product. So, I thought that prompt may be a good prompt for a near-the-end Somaliland reflection.

On some level, I am happiest when I am most uncomfortable. Alaska, for example. I am a beach person- why on earth did I ever pay to live outdoors in Alaska for three late fall/ early winter months??? Why not? I made great friends, learned I could survive just about anything, and am confident I can sit through any Bears home game without ever feeling the howling wind or wet snow, without any beer! I did it to see what I would see and to pick-up a few stories along the way. While I still cannot cross sharing berries with a Grizzly off my bucket list, I have practically given a moose a muffin, have eaten whale blubber, dropped a glove in a composting pit toilet, and sprained my ankle on a dog sled. So much better than a diploma or any ceremony!

Next to ‘How are you?’ and ‘Where you from?’ the most frequently asked question in Somaliland is ‘Why are you here?’ The real answer is for all of the reasons I have never imagined and for all of the situations I never pictured myself in; for the unlikely friendships I encounter along the way and for all the cultural blunders only a smiling white girl can get away with. Why not? I am here for the journey and had no destination in mind. And if some kids learn a little English along the way, all the better.

What has this journey been? First, there was OHare. What story worth retelling does not start in OHare?!? Thankfully this portion is short. Margaret brought K an airplane; and Mike had a ‘red eye,’ therefore Kenai was convinced he was poor. We chatted, played the world’s most intense game of Trouble, and shared a meal. Life was good.

In the car from the Hargeisa airport to the school, I can clearly remember Kenai shouting exclamations about all of the animals. Goats and sheep and donkeys, oh my! He promptly wanted to know the Somali word for all of them. Kiette (director of operations at the time) commented that most people started with ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’ when learning a language, not ‘goat.’ She answered every last question and even partook in the pointing out of all 249 goats between the airport and the school. That is why we came to Somaliland.

Nine weeks until....

The rain is pouring down again. What is it about rainstorms that inspire me to write to you all? Overall, things are well. We have begun transitioning out of this school year and into the whatever is next. I very much mean the collective 'we.' Me, Kenai, the other 'old' staff members, the new staff members, students, everyone. One of my favorites reminds me everyday how many days we have left together. He is going to be a very hard good-bye, if not the hardest. One teacher left this week and we had an assembly in her honor. He comes up to me afterwards and says, "Teacher. I am going to cry when you leave." I retort, "Well I am going to give you a hug." (very haram in this culture- its a small miracle I have lasted the whole year!) He said okay. The teacher's departure has made the reality of change all the more apparent.

BUT, life here goes on. My latest undertaking has been the girls and boys running club. A former olympian is the brother of one of our students. He came and got the students very pumped to run. So, four mornings a week I am up at 4:45 to do conditioning (2 days with girls, 2 days with boys), and I run with them 4-5 afternoons a week. Let me tell you, the six-pack I never had may be apparent in about two more weeks! So far, I am very happy to report, the girls are far more dedicated than the boys. Woo hoo! Though the whine throughout the entire thing, I have a faithful following of 7 girls and they have told the other teachers they like the conditioning better than the running. More circuits it is. It is lovely to see the sunrise (fudger) every morning. Stretching as the sun rises, and stretching as it sets. Life is not too bad.

Kenai is now graphing inequalities in his pre-algebra class. And he is close to finishing book 4 of Harry Potter. Amazing. Im teaching a writing class and I think it is going well. Its the first 'real' class I have taught at the boarding school. Ironic considering I am the one who wants to teach when I leave here. I also have had a few nice nights in town. The board member that i used to live with has had a few of us over for dinner, in honor of the staff member that just left. That has been really nice- dinner and cameraderie in a home. I do miss that. It is a bit sad to think that I have made adult friends here and who knows when our paths will cross again. The students, I hope to see some of them in the states, but who knows about the adults.

All in all life is good, but, like I said, the countdown has begun. Nine weeks until the school year is finished. It comes with so many mixed emotions. I am trying to channel the one labeled 'gratitude,' but it does not always work. Of course I feel gratitude for having been part of these amazing kids' lives, this schools' first years, and this countys' 20th year of seperation from Somalia. I don't feel like I have given all that I can here, or that I have been utilized efficiently. That makes it very hard to leave, but also all the more reason to move on.

So what next? Head to Chicago sometime in August, Bay Area (and everything between) about a week or ten days later. Im still looking for a travel buddy before I head to CHicago if anyone is interested. I am thinking either this region, the greater middle east, or someone in Europe. Shoot me an email if you are interested!!

Finally, our extravagant spring break was great! Kenai and grandpa and grandma all had a good time. K told me afterwards, "You know mom, being in this airport makes me miss grandma and pa." Very sweet. The Falls were lovely, dessert-only buffet one night with just me and K was nice, Chobe  Park in Botswana was teaming with animals, especially elephants, and the Serengetti- we saw the Big Five there all on our first day. We went to see animals and we saw animals! Though sitting for 28 days straight, fancy hotels, and eating and drinking everything in sight was nice, it was nice to get back to normal portions and regular exercise.

See you all soon!

Also younger than the sun

April 10

Today, all is well. The best part of my day started around 4:30. Blue sky with white fluffy clouds to the West, and dark storm clouds to the East. I was pressing my luck no doubt: How many kilometers could I get in before the rain? Nasir, the head guard, tried to stop me. Told me I was crazy! (He tells me this frequently where there are no rain clouds.) Nonetheless, the track was calling me.


Starting the last half of lap two, the cold drizzle started to hit. “Woo hoo!” Rainy season is two months over-due, so this was a ahamduallah (no idea how to spell that. Praise God in Arabic) moment if there ever was one! It felt good to feel nature finally decide to finally let loose.

Running along the East wall of the school, the sky was a dark blue gray, yet I could see the acacia trees, dried out cactuses, and brown dessert-like African landscape perfectly clear. A perfect half rainbow bridged the dark clouds and well-lit terrain. It really was as lovely as one can imagine. It is nice being on a little hill and looking into a never-ending valley everyday, but espcially today.

Lap three commences. The drizzle is picking up, but I figure I can run a few back-and-forths along the West wall since the clouds were coming from the East. Nope. Winds picked up. Sand and garbage were swirling everywhere on my track. Rain started pounding down. Soaked, I threw in the towel and turned around before even getting to the East wall. As I was pounding on the doors to be let in, two students came running up from the village. Laughing and screaming. It was two roommates, one of whom is my advisee. They are two of my favorites. ‘Crazy!’ that’s A’s favorite word anyway, and now he had a good reason to exclaim it over and over. Y was laughing, then crying complaining about how the rain hurts when it goes in his ears. These boys. The continue the pounding for me. Ain’t no way our guards are getting out of their hut to open our gate though. We are stuck.

Parent’s of one of the girls pull up. Long story short, I just finish talking to the parents and am half way to the gate when a guard finally opens it. The boys run inside and let it slam, lock before I get there. Ugh. So much for my favorites. The guard came and rescued me nearly immediately though. (As for the boys, I slapped them upside the head when I saw them. Their third, much more subdue and sensible roommate comes back from the village about an hour later, dry as can be. Instead of booking it in the rain, he waited it out in the village, under cover. The three of them are best buddies and I love the contrast in personalities. Someday the other two nut heads will learn, via osmosis if nothing else, how to get through life a little more calmly.)

It is still raining pretty steadily. The students are hesitating, but I grab the football and hit the field. Mud football (soccer)!! Best sport ever. Girls on one half the field, boys on the other. There will be no intermixing. Heck, I am surprised we even were able to share the field! I’d say over 30 kids were out there kicking the balls around, getting dirty, laughing, and creating memories. One other crazy teacher was with me. The girls loved it, all the kids did. I promised them a game in the rain whenever it came. I was glad to be around and already wet when that first rain hit! :)

Rain lets up, girls go play basketball, boys start an A v B team match, and I continue my run. Two laps in, Kenai appears on the track. “MAMMA! MAMMA! Do you want to see some frogs!” Of course I do, why else would I be running laps on the 'track'. Frogs were everywhere! We say five in one large puddle alone. We successfully caught one and I try to show some of the boys who were walking by our new friend. “No teacher!” as they quickly turned the other way looking frightened. I do not get it… K and I were happy though.

Frog frenzy wears off. I’m back on the track.

Now, the rain has let up, but what does the first rain of the season in a country near the equator bring? Termites! Not just termites, but flying termites that mate and drop their wings before dying (pretty sure) or burying themselves back in the ground.. This happens once a year I think, at least the first rain brings the most mites. Super cool! First time I saw this was in Trinidad and Tobago. This was my second time. My run is interrupted a few more times as I share this super cool phenomena with any student I see along the track (one was running, the rest were headed out of the school). "STUDENTS! STUDENTS! Do you want to see some flying termites!" The thought I was a little crazy as I carried on, but humored me and said “yes teacher, the insects.” They were less frightened of the insects than the spiders.

So it’s been well over an hour and a half since I started my run. 10K is the goal, my visions of doing it in an hour have long gone. Lap 8 (1 km track) and the sun is setting. Remember, blue sky to the West. It was lovely!! Dark overhead, deep reds and oranges leading the darkness to the horizon, and bright pinks and purples far West sneaking below the dark yet above the horizon shaping around the clouds. If I could look up when I run, I would have been able to watch the clouds push the sun out of the sky with a whole palate of colors between. It was calming, energizing, soothing, and just plan fabulous.

Lap 9.5, Van Morrison’s Into the Mystic takes me home. All is well as my gypsy soul was rocked.

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Hot shower, veggie ‘fajitas’ for dinner, the copier is open, internet is working, and all is karmically good. I spent the last 2.5 hours of my evening unloading a crate that we just got from the states. 20,000 Books for Africa. Many boys helped (it was on their side of the school and it was dark, so no co-mingling), two other teachers and myself. It took about five or six trips, but the boys finally figured out I could carry a box on my own, without taking a rest or needing help. When we finish tomorrow, I will convince them that I can carry them on my shoulders, as it will be much easier on my back! We were all tired after those few hours. They really are good kids. What an adrenaline filled day and with a lot of school spirit mixed in there.

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I forgot a good story about the beach. It may be too after the fact for you all, but for my own memories. For lunch, three girl students, one teacher and myself order two whole fish to eat. I swear, the girls had no idea what to do! I do not think they have eaten fish off the bone before! Nothing ceases to amaze me here. Half our students grew up skinning goats since they were four and can do it in their sleep, and the other half have people to do that for them. These girls skewed toward the later. I got a ‘Good job teacher’ when, after eating the top half, I took the tail and pulled out the spine with many of the bones attached revealing a lovely filet. So good! They also told me I did a good job picking all the fish off the bones too. I know that is not true, as most of the head was still there, and I have seen what a few other teachers can do to a fish! And come on, you know me. Is gutting animals, even cooked ones, really my area of expertise? When in Africa… I was nice to get the nod of approval from them nonetheless. Good times.

Tomorrow I leave for spring break. Six countries in 18 days! We are both looking forward to seeing grandpa and grandma, and the Falls and the Serengeti. I am especially excited to be continuing our Easter-weekend-bonding-time tradition. It started when we moved to CA. The first two years we went camping just the two of us, last year we had the train ride from San Jose to Chicago, and this year an African safari. I hope going back to camping next year is not too disappointing for the little guy. More about the trip when we return!