&& a happy new year*

Happy New Year!!
it's been crazy here at the Ashram. We made it thru a hurricane & have literally spent all day cleaning. The volunteers had plans to attend a masquerade party at a French resort, but they've canceled due to damages. It's amazing how everyone here just popped into action. It's a natural & healthy way of coping with all the damage that has been done to their homes that I'm learning a lot from. Some of the trees have been here since the community started here in the ashram, but they will grow back. There are no big pick ups to load up & only one chainsaw, so we've all been working our tails off dragging things by hand & raking, etc.

In about a week I'm headed to see the Taj Mahal with a couple of the guys here & then off to Calcutta with some of the girls <3.

Not much time for reflection at the moment, but happy happy HAPPY new year. I haven't settled on a resolution yet-- I googled some, but idk. I think I should write more.. (more better that is ;) )

I have a certain Montgomery in mind for my midnight kiss, but I'll understand if I'm too out of the way for him to make it :)

*up on the housetop reindeer paws*

There's a gate on one of the back walks I take that reminds me of my friends lake house back out in Seguin, Texas & all the fun & trouble we got into. I remember heading out one weekend in college before finals for studying, writing & fishing & ending up at a crawfish boil in South Louisiana before it was all said & done. I've been very fortunate in my life-- God gave me a super guardian angel that is good at working overtime. I don't know if I've ever felt so content in my life as I do now. It's hard to explain-- leaving everything & everyone I love to try to answer God's call has been the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, but also the most fruitful. In one of the priests homily this advent he focused on the poverty of Mary. Think about it-- the angel appears to her, gives her the news, she accepts it with blind faith & then-- THEN-- the angel Gabriel leaves her. Like-- can you imagine?? She had to just deal with it & keep on keeping on. What a woman.

I've been trying to do one (at least) new thing each day while I am here. Today one of the Indian girls living with the Sisters taught me how to put on my Christmas Sari. I didn't have a mirror, but I'm totally stoked & I think I rocked it :) I'm totally wearing that sucker somewhere back in the states. One of the girls doesn't have one to wear (you can get a silk one for $20 USD) & I'm thinking of getting it for her as a Christmas gift, but I'm caught whether she doesn't want it because of the money or if she just doesn't want it. I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable & still not sure what to do.

Another new thing-- went to a beauty shop here owned by a lady who goes to mass here at the Ashram. Indian people-- at least the ones from the South are really rough! In spanish we would say "tosca". They're always grabbin & tryna fix your hair or stick a dot on your forehead, but I'd been telling her I'd go for a month now so.. I went. She did that eyebrow plucking thing where they use a string instead of wax- not bad. My eyebrows did need it.. & she insisted that I didn't pay. Before I left she (and her two other customers) took pictures of me with their camera phones.

Yesterday I went into town with the lady who runs this place & it was great! I don't know how she does it, but she was Christmas shopping for each child & took the time to get me my sari, too. It was really nice being with someone who knew where they were going. I didn't get anyone gifts for Christmas, so I hope they didn't get me anything. Hope you all are having a happy advent :)

Ye-Haw London Hall~!

Dayum! sometimes life is just good. Like right bout now. It's Christmas season, kids are all doin good in school, the monsoon is over (mostly), got a trip lined up to the north of India to see the Taj with some friends, got my next job lined up, found a liquor store near my village :p. I looked into safari's cuz I thought it'd be nice to try to see some tigers, but hell, 1st off you can't shoot anything, then you can't eat meat on the whole park, can't drink beer, & it's bout the same price I paid to go to Africa & actually hunt. The prices here for any1 who isn't a resident of India are ridiculous. I went to a museum the other day that was 5 INR for indians & 100 for non Indians. Then I thought about how much it hurts when my cats claw me & I multiplied it by a million & thought maybe I don't need to see a tiger in the wild. Might still do it cuz I'm known to be a little stubborn, but ain't a priority. Saturday I'm going to a temple nearby that's got a 'monkey temple' & some other weird stuff, I'll post some photos. One of the French guys got a TVS (like between a moped & motorcycle) & invited me to lunch/ explore tomorrow. I haven't left the Ashram since I got thrown off the bus 2 weeks ago, but knowing my apprehensions he told me not to worry bout a thing & he's a proper gentleman so I believe him.

The kids are pretty awesome. I realize how great my parents were by dealing with them & butting heads with others on whats the best way to raise em. Memories come flooding into my mind at almost every turn of the day. One of my favorites I hadn't thought of in a long time was an Easter long ago with my mom & brother. It might not have been Easter proper-- the details are blurred with time & a child's selective memory, but for some reason we all sat in the living room of our double wide trailer at the ranch sad and troubled. The mood was lower than low. Jase (brother) & I were without words which doesn't happen often. Out of nowhere my mom busted into the room with cascarones & broke them on our heads-- in the house. (white folk, a cascaron is an empty egg painted & filled with confetti broken on ppl's heads on Easter) At first Jason & I were alarmed at our mothers madness & didn't move. She was not deterred & followed the first perturbed act with another. Our childish stubbornness settled on sulk quickly faded & all three of us danced in a ring of confetti around the living room. We must have gone through 20 dozen eggs.

Another time I had checked out a really good book from the library & wanted to finish it. I was bored by my teachers & classes, so in the morning I told my mom I didn't want to go to school. She asked me if I felt sick & I made it a point not to say yes, but to be deceitful enough to where she thought I was. I stayed on the sofa & read the whole thing. I finished about 1 o'clock & told my mom I could go to school now. She (thinking I was sick before & now felt better) told me not to worry about school & that I could go tomorrow. Satisfied with my angels approval, I sat guiltlessly all afternoon & watched TV as she brought me soup, crackers & whatever I desired.

I'm pretty free with the kids. I feel that the others try to micromanage their every move, but I'm probably too far one way & maybe they're too far the other. I've been playin fiddle here & when I watch the toddlers is a good time to practice. Idk why one of the kids, Aneesh, always calls the damn thing a banjo. I kept correcting him, but seeing as to how he's set on it I've let it be. I don't even know how he knows what a banjo is. I hear the older ones home from school now & should get going. Write again soon.

Can I borrow 20 bucks? yea, seriously.

Dear Friend,

I hope you are getting into the Christmas spirit! I found a tree in the city near our village for a good price and the kids love it. I’ll tell you strait out the gate that I’m going to ask you for $20 for Christmas. There’s a young boy here whose name is Ajith. He’s 11 years old, but about the size of an eight year old. He stays at the house for the toddlers because he would surely be trampled if he stayed with kids his own age.

Only about 30% of his lungs work. The HIV makes the kids more susceptible to catching TB and other infections, especially before they come here to the orphanage and don’t have proper care. I went with our priest to take him to one of his doctors appointments. The doc explained that his bronchi (or something like that, I don’t know much about that sort of thing) are enlarged which keeps mucous and fluid in his lungs that are already only working at 30%. He said that he needs a machine to wear at night (like a sleep apnea machine) in order for their to be oxygen in his blood to prevent further organ damage. The machine is $1,000, or about how much it costs to run the whole orphanage for a month. We don’t have the money, but with your help I figured, hell we can find just 50 people to donate $20 bucks to save a kids life.

Even though I work with them everyday the concept of an orphan is still hard for me to grasp, but think of it- this kid has no family. If we don’t vouch for Ajith, who will? I hope that you’ll help him out.

Technical stuff-- It’ll work best if one person can collect & then western union it over because we can only withdraw about $150 a day. Sorry that it won’t be a tax deductable organization-- we’re doing this kinda scrappy and want to get it done in the next week or so. We've got a pay pall set up, just click the button. I’ll post a list of everyone that has donated (unless you would like to remain anonymous) so you can see who has donated and that we’re not keeping the money. I’ll also put up some photos of the machine once we get it.

Hope y’all are doing well & thanks for your help. Mention this to other folks that you know that may want to help out. All we need is 50 people to give $20. We can do this.

Cat Archer

**Can't figure out this damn 'donate' button yet, gettin there.. Send me a msg if you want to help out for now. We're on a time restraint**

keep on the sunny side

Yesterday I went into town & worked at the Missionaries of Charity during the day & ran some errands. Bought a couple books my English class asked for, postcards for family & a pair of closed shoes (gross long story, but it was the doctors suggestion..). Anyway, left the MC's a tad early to catch the bus back to (for once) get back to the Ashram & the kids at home on time. I stood on the corner with the women waiting for the bus. One woman next to said "Auroville?" which is a tourist town near our village. I said no & told her the name of my village. In broken English & exaggerated arm motions I asked if she would tell me when my bus arrived and she agreed-- she was catching the same one. We boarded & I asked one more person if I was on the right bus & they did the head wiggle thing that most of the time means yes (but can also mean just an acknowledgment & that they have no idea what you are saying). As I went to sit next to the woman who helped me out the 'ticket taker' ran towards me saying 'NO'. I said the name of my village & he said 'YOU OFF'. I showed him my money & he pushed me down the isle to the steps of the bus. It wasn't moving that quickly & he shoved me off the bus into the road where I stumbled a bit as the people in the bus laughed and those nearby watched. I flagged the nearest rickshaw & agreed to his first outrageous price instead of engaging in the friendly routine haggling of the price. The only way I can describe how I felt is sad. I couldn't believe how much this man didn't like me even though he didn't know me. A couple hot tears touched my cheeks & I rode home stunned. I told the male volunteer who lives next to me & I can't believe how great he was. He's from Texas & his parents raised him right. He doesn't like us girls goin places alone & especially at night. Must be like herding cats for the poor guy because all us gal's are hard headed overly independent sometimes to the point of ignorance here (this is mostly the French..). I told some of the older girls I was tutoring and they said 'Auntie they don't like white people'. I tried to focus on the positive parts of my day & went to sleep.

This morning when I went for my run I couldn't get this man out of my head, but I knew that in order to forgive him I had to love him. I wondered how many times Jesus had tried to be in my life & I spat in his face & threw him off the bus. In some way I understood the ticket taker dudes asshole-ness just like I think all of you do, and I wasn't hurt or angry anymore.

I've been sewing up all the kids backpacks. I can see my mom shining through me at moments like that. Sometimes I worry that I haven't loved my parents enough. I'll be in Mass or think of them & a pang of guilt and worry will shoot through my chest & I'll just want to tell them I love them & hug them right then.

Okay, sleep time..

you got to heal faster than this 'ol world can hurt you

I went to town today to see the Doctor for some skin problems & another for my stomach (India is tuff on my body..) Tummy guy wasn't there today, so I went to a French bakery for some coffee & a sweet with two hours to kill. Had a great conversation with a sharp young lad who appealed to my intellect & a few other senses. Told him where I stay & what we do here, he said he'd like to stop by sometime & check it out. Something like 'oh Father, you'll love it' came out of my mouth. He just laughed & said I need to talk to some men who aren't men priests from time to time. Hope that means he was volunteering for the position ;)
Got to the doc, sat in the waiting room with Father-- who I met in town & had to see the same guy bout a thing on his foot. He'd just come from a Moslem family that he knows nearby who just lost a son to Leukemia. They're very poor & the congregation my priest belongs to had paid for his treatments. Their daughter had polio as a child & is crippled. Then he told me about Paris and St. Catherine. An Indian woman next to him saw him & started speaking French to him. She brought in her daughter and granddaughter from outside and asked him to bless them to which he obliged. We went into a smaller waiting room & he went in first then left. I was next. The doctor was a really nice guy. We talked for a bit about things I don't really remember but I know I was happy talking to him. I called him Father too, he laughed & said he had three daughters older than me, so I wasn't completely wrong in my statement. I got my medicine at a pharmacy & haggled with a rickshaw driver for a ride home.
I'm teaching English to a group of men who are studying to be Priests here at the Ashram I live at. I gave them an essay assignment with prompts all about the caste system. It's something that really intrigues me. One man was shocked that the west didn't have a caste system. He asked how we can accomplish anything. I've researched the subject a lot, but I'm eager to see what will be in their essays. I will keep you posted.

today I killed a bug & didn't even flinch that upon arrival would've made me scream :)

Things here have gotten a lot easier since two months ago. Some days are really hard, but life with the kids has gotten more routine. I had an apartment in the same lot or fenced area (ashram) here where the kids & about 40 other people live, but I lived above a ward of hiv positive women in which the disease had really progressed.. some days it sounded like living in a mental ward.. apparently the virus attacks the brain in a lot of people. Also women who are already mentally handicapped are more vulnerable to being raped. There is one woman who cannot speak, she just kinda grunts or growls who is 7 months pregnant. This passed Sunday I moved into a room downstairs at the house that the kids live in & I'm much happier here. Less time to myself (at this point I didn't know that was possible!) but it's better. No need for an alarm clock, that is for sure! On my moving day the kids also found a 2 week old kitten that I've been volunteered into caring for who has an internal feeding clock that has gone off at 4AM for the passed 3 days (which is why I'm up writing now :)  ). 


I've been going to the Sister's of Mother Teresa in town (Missionaries of Charity) to volunteer while our kids are away at school & it's really beautiful. The kids are severely disabled & the first time I went I practically ran out of there & that night cried myself to sleep. I was angry with God & couldn't understand how that could happen and people could exist in such a state, but I can't explain it now, but there's a joy in holding some of the kids now & just visiting them. I don't think Mary understood completely what was going on at the annunciation or at the crucifixion, but instead of trying to tackle something with her intelligence I think she just loved. I don't know why these children suffer so much, but all I can do is love them and hold a child that otherwise would not have been held that day. A friend of mine here from Pennsylvania said that that's what we must be like in the arms of Jesus. We're so small and helpless and troubled, and He just wants to love us with his whole heart to the point of giving us his body and dying on a cross. That is some intense love. 


It's unfathomable to me to not have parents or a family. There are so many orphans here- I guess there are a lot back home too, but back home I don't think I know I wouldn't have stopped my life & made time to get out of myself to be with them. Sometimes its hard not having hot water, the bugs & snakes, hand washing clothes, unfamiliar food everything, but at the end of this I get to go home to a beautiful loving family & all of my friends who support me so much. These children won't be home until heaven. 


At the Missionaries of Charity it's hard to keep myself from crying sometimes when I'm looking at a child. There is one little girl there named Kit (there are a few more syllables after that, but that's all I can pronounce & I like it because when I hold her we're Kit-Cat :) ). She's 8 years old and the size of a toddler. She must only weight 40 pounds or so. I don't know exactly what's wrong with her, but she cries in such agony most of the time and cannot speak. She jerks around a little when being handled, but once she is set in your arms she seems at peace. I tell her about my day, sing her songs, ask her questions and answer them myself etc. I imagine what she will be like in heaven when God raises her in all his Glory. We will have our bodies in heaven (St. Tomas Aquinas) but our bodies the way they were meant to be -before original sin. Even the disciples didn't recognize Jesus after the resurrection, can you imagine how different we will be? Anyway, I know Kit is going to be even more beautiful, and I imagine she'll walk up to me and tell me that sometimes she sure wished that I would've just been quiet & just held her! 
Oh, St. Francis help me with Tex! (our kitten) I sneezed & woke her up & now she's blaring off again.. I'll write again soon. 

Strong women :)

My best friends are some of the most stubborn, hard headed, ain't got an awkward bone in their bodies, never met a stranger, beautiful women anyone could find. My momma is the same & their momma's are, too. I admit my deepest fears, insecurities & wounds to them. They've always got the right words-- because they've gone through some things to make them so strong & sweet.

Sometimes when I talk to people back home they say, "Oh, you've only been gone ***..." But when everything is foreign & everything is a battle it doesn't seem like "only". Some days have 72 hours or more. It's like, 'Oh, you've only had your head underwater for two minutes??' My friends get that it's hard sometimes, but they also know me better than anyone, so when they say I can make it, I believe them. 

But the men in my life right now are driving me mad.. & that's usually one of my favorite parts! I just gotta hold fast to Jesus, my big brother, & pop. Hopefully them three can run off the rest & give me strength & patience to handle the ones I have to deal with.

(Hey Michelle, remember that time I was supposed to take Corry Morrow out, but forgot & bolted, went home & went to sleep instead after the concert?? lol)

Bangladesh the Cowboy.. little taste of home abroad

Saying your homesick for Texas is like saying your hungry for air. It's not really something you can help. I've been in India for about 6 weeks now, & the more I see of it, the more I like it. There is a simplicity to the people which makes them very crude, but coming from a society of complexes, issues, over thinking etc, it can be refreshing. A love for traveling is bittersweet. The more of the world you see, the more you realize how big it is, and want to keep seeing more. Trying to assimilate and staying true to yourself can be a contradiction hard to manage. Some people are genuine, some will screw you given the chance.

Life in Texas is beautiful. I often think of my friends, good music & honky tonks, beers at the stables, listening to the stories of the wiser generations, bacon & eggs for breakfast, my old boots and my old freedoms. Life in India is beautiful in its own rights, too. The beach is just walking distance away, and we eat coconuts and bananas that grow on the trees here in the ashram (i.e.- if you are reading this, send a blender & rum). Although the life is harsh, the peoples bodies adopt better. People of all ages sit on the floor, lift heavy things, walk for long distances, etc. Although some of these strengths are visible through character lines on the skin, the body underneath is usually in better form. I want to share two individuals with you today.

The first is a little boy named Bangladesh. I have been told that when he first came to the Ashram his stomach was bloated from starvation, he barely spoke and acted out violently when he did. He is mentally handicapped in some way but I'm not too familiar with such diagnostics. I think he's maybe severely autistic, but I could be wrong. Anyway, this is his first year in a 'special school'. He's 12 years old like a handful of the other boys and plays along well enough most of the time. His body is slightly more matured than the others, and his jaw and chin protrude out a bit as if he's pushing it forward. At night when it comes to story time, all the kids gather around like the toddlers. Bangladesh always wants to read about animals. He comes up to me with an encyclopedia of animals and wants me to read him the entire thing.. every night. I ask him to pick ten animals & we can learn about just those. There is usually a theme & lately its sea animals. "Does it bite?" "Do they live here?" "Do they live in Texas?" Those three questions are asked after we finish with each. *****TBC********

The 2nd person is one of our cooks named Arul Mary. I think both her & her husband William are from nearby villages. 'Ol Bill is the gardener here at the Ashram & there son Marionos is home schooled along with some of the other toddlers by a French volunteer. William takes their little tike to mass in the mornings, in the mid afternoon he brings us fresh coconuts & his wife makes him a snack. When his son is done with school he follows him around & imitates his movements out of love and admiration. William shows fatherly affections to the other little ones too which is beautiful. The children here at the orphanage are usually surrounded by women, & 'foreigners' at that, so it's nice to see them have healthy interaction with a man of their own culture. Arul Mary & William met each other four hours before their marriage. Let me give you a minute to let that sink in.. ****TBC****

sometimes your heart hurts

& you have to pretend it doesn't.. 

An Ode to Indian Food --commemorating my grandfather 'Pop'

It started when I farted 

& I headed to'rds the door

my bowels overtook me 

& I shitted in the floor

nother day in the life

Life on a mission is sometimes just life. It's amazing-- good & bad-- what people can adjust to. I try to take photos of things the second I find them interesting or out of place, because they'll soon seem normal. Last time I went to the beach I didn't really notice the men staring at me & the two other 'white women' I was with before they came over & asked if they could take photos with us, or the herd of goats rolling in the sand. Walking out of the convent after lunch today, I was only slightly impressed by the 6 foot snake the gardener William was still beating to death. (btw, thank goodness he's not Hindu or Jain & is okay with killing those awful things..)

It's strange that living in a beautiful place full of prayer & beauty one can still have crummy days. Most of us here alternatingly have electricity or water. I'd rather have electricity though, so my fan can stay on & just shower at someone else's place. Waking up from a nap because I'm sweating, or because the women who live under me are burning leaves in a flower pot that seems to vent right up through my window isn't so bad anymore. I can now manage to stay half asleep while I throw off my sleeping bag, slip on flip flops, rummage for a flashlight & stumble to the bathroom to squat pee, all the while checking the hall for spiders, centipedes, snakes, etc. Children vomiting, crying, fighting is also totally controllable now.

It's also amazing to see what stays the same-- what I don't think I will get used to. I cannot bring myself to walk around barefoot. I've been 'offensive' at some places & in certain company for leaving my sandals on, but just- ew- not going to happen. When the toddlers take off their shorts in the middle of the room (they don't wear underwear) and then walk over to the bathroom, leave the door open to do their business, wash their little hand & bring me their shorts to put back on them.. I would just prefer if they were little barbie dolls without real um, parts.

Speaking of 'parts'.. most of the men here are totally disgusting. They where these weird 'man skirts' that I guess are traditional clothing, but anytime it's just women around, they will lift them to adjust themselves, or just flash it out.. They also all pee publicly, & not off in a corner, just anywhere- right when they feel like doin it like the damn cattle. To walk to the University, we take a back trail & pass by what looks like a dormitory & these guys will all run outside & drop their towels. The other day in the bus, me & one of the French volunteers managed to find a seat, & an old drunk stood in the isle & played with himself as he starred at us, & flashed his skirt open a few times. I've seen way too much disgusting male genitalia for one flippin lifetime.

Well hell. That's a pretty negative way to end, huh? Okay, on a different note- a totally non disgusting Indian man- been reading the life & times of Ghandi by... (can't remember the author's name, but he's really good so I'll insert it later) & it's really pretty amazing. He did a lot more work in South Africa than the movie gave him credit for.- Yes, my extent of pre-India Ghandi knowledge is that, a book my brother lend me once about his teachings that I flipped through on a flight from Alaska, & for some reason i know he used to try to eat a tomato a day to avoid constipation. Apparently his father & grandfather were prime ministers in a small west Indian City, he got his law degree in England in 2 years and 8 months where he was shy & did his best to imitate western men (but kept a promise to his mother to avoid wine, women, and meat... so not very western at all in my opinion) He also decided at age 36 to be celibate & kept this vow until his death. It's really good so far, but I'm only 150 pages in & its bout 600 I think. I'll keep you posted.

An email I sent to family & friends on Nov 2

Hello there! 

Most days here at the Ashram are filled with laughter & kids being kids but today I want to share a difficult story with you. 

The 41 kids here are separated into 3 groups. The toddlers stay at the "Taj", the middle kids and older girls at Jeeva Nivas (house of life) & the older boys in another house. My mornings (everyday but Saturday) are spent with the toddlers & I'm also with them all day Wednesday. 

Today is all souls day, different from yesterday all saints day (look it up ;) ) One of the older girls at the toddlers house is named Rajeswari, we call her Raje (sounds like Reggie). Her mother died from the virus within the past year, & like all the other kids here she is HIV positive. Most children get the disease from birth (though some girls have gotten in through abuse). The usual case is that the father was a driver, slept with a prostitute, got HIV, brought it into the family, the wife becomes positive & infects her children either by birth or through breast milk. (With proper treatment from the beginning of pregnancy there is an 85% chance that the children will not have the virus, but because the virus lays dormant in some people, they don't know they have it. Some of the pregnant women that live under me at the flat are undergoing this treatment) In Raje's case, her father was not positive. Either the mother had the disease since birth (it can lay dormant for many years) & had a strand of the virus that did not correspond with her husband, but past it on to her daughter-- or she went out of the 'circle of trust'. (When explaining to the kids how someone gets the disease, we use this metaphor. When two people get married, they agree to stay in a circle. Someone went outside the circle & brought the disease back into the circle.) Anyway, most Indian people are very ignorant about HIV, & they ostracize those affected. The village where Raje is from is no exception. People accused her father of killing his wife & infecting his daughter by being with a whore. (this is not true since he was not positive). He received numerous threats & constant ridicule and abuse. About a week ago, he took his own life. 

Today Raje is wearing one of her nicest dresses and is going to the cathedral in town with the head of the orphanage, an older girl to translate some things into Tamil (her native tongue) and one of the priests. Today she will find out she has no more family. She is a bright girl, mischievous at times & has a way of convincing all the boys to do things for her (I think we will be friends when she is older ;) ) Today I ask that you keep a special place in your heart for her. She will lead a very difficult life. Let's pray that she continues to bear her cross with joy. Please take a moment to ask God to comfort her as she begins to face difficulties she does not yet understand.

All Saints Day

What have I done? Why have I sinned? I’ve played with the devil & let him win.
I tangle into darkness by the seduction of the lies, gifts of this world instead of your eternal prize
I am not worthy, something we both know, but you’ll love me anyway & fight for my soul.

It’s ignorant bliss to ignore spiritual warfare.
Your angels fight tirelessly to win me back
but the closer we are drawn to the light of your glory
evermore profound are these shadows of black

he uses my past to ignite my pride
& I tell myself I’ve gone too far to be forgiven
but who am I to ever make that judgement?
My anguish becomes the flame by which I am driven

it is the thorn in my side to remind me of my flesh
which draws me back to kneel before the cross
makes me work each day-- out of love for you
for through the resurrection all sin is lost

flyyyy like an eagle..

So!
My health has not been so great, but other things are definitely looking up!  I went shopping with Audrey at the volunteers weekly outing in Pondi yesterday & we definitely splurged spending about $50 USD over a four hour period (including a very nice lunch). I've had an awful cough-- went to the pharmacy for some medicine, & didn't notice until this morning that my cough syrup is mostly made up of Codeine.. I've been teaching & tutoring the young ones, who grow up pretty western-- in the clothes they wear & the movies they watch, but today I'll have my first English class of 8 Indian men who want to enter the Religious community that I am working with. The whole society is pretty misogynistic, so I'm curious (& not optimistic) on how they will accept a female teacher... (good thing for my cough syrup today :) ) There are some social things going on-- tonight is a French cheese & cocktail party in a neighboring village made up of mostly tourists. The next night is live rock music (*yawn*) in town that one of the other volunteers is excited about, and the next day is a wedding. I'm looking forward to my first Indian wedding. I will post pictures soon thereafter.
toodles til next time. 

improvement to my quality of life & a riddle

apparently I'm not the first American here.

 

Which of the following does not belong? -- okay, no seriously-- There are two big lizards living with me & they used to really freak me out, but now I've named them Harry & Sally ( I thought it was romantic :) ) & I look for them anytime I get in, like wheres Waldo. This is Sally-- she's been there for two days now. Harry hangs out near the light bulbs.

1 little 2 little 3 little...

Internet, Finally! Apparently 'foreigners' are not allowed to have a wifi usb thing in order to fight terrorism here-- this is what I have been told by numerous Indians as well as my fellow foreigners. All the volunteers here have simple cell phones that are passed around & used for practical logistical purposes (the ashram is pretty big & every1 has a continually fluctuating schedule) but the microphone on mine was out. I went to a Vodophone shop to get a new one & see if I could figure out a cheaper way to call the US-- after getting 2 passport photos from a picture shop around the corner-- & it was closed due to elections. That happens a lot here. Also, alcohol is not legally served during elections, but I have been on a certain outing where numerous refilled teapots came to the table & the waiter was tipped well.

I found myself in the accidental company of two young men & immediately we were linked by our common gaze at the "Closed Holiday" sign written in thin orange marker. Now, I used to be apprehensive on asking for help or directions, but traveling alone helps one outgrow such insecurities. I asked where I could find internet, they had a discussion between themselves & before I knew it I was on the back of a motorcycle zipping through rickshaws, tvs-es, cars & cows. His English had been broken, so I wasn't sure how far we were going, but after a few minutes of worrying I let go of my fear & enjoyed the ride.
We wound up pretty far actually-- & off of the few tourist streets I'm acquainted with. I text my boss who was going to meet me in town for lunch where I was & she said she was on her way. I managed to get an internet connection & convinced the young guy to put it under his name-- I mean, it's prepaid-- there's not much damage I could do. After I paid & had the device securely in my backpack the guy started having second thoughts & wanted to know exactly where I was staying, my social & other personal information. My boss arrived shortly after, I hoped on the back of her motorcycle & the young man's angry yell was soon drowned out by the sounds of the city. Anyway, I should have this set up for 3 months, God willing.
After that we proceeded to a great French restaurant. One great thing about India is that you can find 5 Star food (though usually not service) for about 1/2- 2/3 of what you would pay in the states.

Life is getting a bit more routine. It's hard to learn all the kids names at first because they're all just sounds. They can be a lot to handle at times, but there's always a little hand in mine when I walk outside my room. There's one boy B who goes to a special school & is a little slow somehow, but in other ways is really bright. At night he brings me this big Encyclopedia of Animals for Kids & wants me to read it all. I usually cut it down to a handful of animals & a story, but he does not forget any of those dang animals- it's really something. He asks me about the horses & cowboys in Texas & wants to see pictures. I flip thru my phone & show him the same few photos (that don't have too many beer cans & us cuttin up) of some horses & my favorite cowboy ;) & feel a little pang in my heart for Texas. I think of me & my gal Michelle gettin out to the stables after work, changing out of our heels & skirts to our dirty old jeans, riding til sunset & drinking & lying to each other with the guys around the fire at dark. I think of the boy I'm missing & wonder if we'll ever have a couple acres, couple horses, couple kids. I told him about B, he said he'd send an old cowboy hat for him, I said I bet he'd like that.

The other volunteers are great. There's an Irish guy who's just decided to be a priest (God help the Church), a buncha French folks, coupla Germans & two other Americans. I spend most my free time with one of the French girls A; she's really great. We've got philosophy classes together, bible study, weekly outing & some other things we all do together. Going into town is a mess on that bus, but in a group it's not so bad.

I've got to get better about taking pictures-- I've got a couple now & will post more later. Until then, keep the children in your prayers.  

Monsoon, JPII, Chinna Kalapet, & beef jerky

Well hello! I've been in India for almost ten days now & it's hard to gather my thoughts on the matter.. I'll start with a quick overview then jump to some HI's & LOW's :)

Met some neat people on my flights, one guy bout 6 foot 5 who was having a miserable time trying to fit into his assigned seat next to me. About an hour before landing he started having an anxiety attack from being in the plane so long, but he pulled thru. He was from upstate New York, moved to DFW area for his job & was going to Germany with a tour group he'd found on the internet to attend some hockey games.. *shrug*

Next Frankfort to the Kingdom of Bahrain I sat by a young lady from Germany who was working in Kuwait as a "horse doctor" on Arabian horses. Flying over the Mediterranean we could see flames from oil wells burning through the dusty haze. Bahrain is apparently an island & one of the few areas that allows alcohol, so a bit of a big SPI if you will. At this airport I saw the most Muslim people I had ever seen, in their traditional clothing. There were also young men that looked to be from Saudi wearing long tan robes, red & white checkered turban looking things, & carrying luggage that costs more than my car.

Arrival in India was okay. I was exhausted & I'm always afraid that the airline will loose my luggage.. They didn't. The outside of the airport was filthy & full of people. There was a driver waiting for me with a sign that had my name on it. People followed all the way to the car aggressively begging. Then there was the driving...

I had been previously warned & was expecting the worst. Lanes are a total suggestion, the right of way on the road belongs to the larger vehicle, passing is allowed everywhere, honking is encouraged to the point of "Sound horn" being printed on the back of vehicles to let them know someone is coming. People, bicycles, mopeds, motor bikes, rickshaws, cars, then buses is about the food chain. Cows & the worlds ugliest dogs are all over the place. An 80 year old woman will get honked at, but a cow or dog will be yielded to.

A quick interjection on the manner of the people here. There is no what we would call back in the states tact. Staring is not considered rude-- I'm actually not sure there is a word for rude. Personal space is a myth, & hygiene is not a priority. There is a university nearby that me & a French volunteer frequent (I am actually writing from here now at an internet cafe) & it is almost impossible to leave here without seeing at least one male student urinating in public. There are some beautifully manicured lawns, then some places which are littered with garbage. They also have no problem asking personal or sensitive questions.

After about 3 hours I reached the Ashram where I am currently staying. It must be on about 7 acres & it is beautiful. Within those walls is like what I imagine the garden of Eden looked like (minus all the mosquitoes). The children are pure & perfect as well. It's easy to say that we are willing to give to the least among us, but when confronted with the ugly realities which plague their lives, it becomes much more difficult. It's difficult to properly organize thoughts now with so much noise going on, but it's something I've thought on much. Hopefully I'll have an internet connection on my lap top soon, & can write in silence.

My first experience with the thunder & lightening of the monsoon definitely reminded me how big God is & how small I am. I'm currently reading John Paul II's Love & Responsibility; difficult read, but very good book so far. Kallapet is the name of the village I am in, & I can't stand this food-- it's nothing like the chicken Tika my friend Angie makes, so I'm living off the beef jerky I brought with me.

I need to look up some ESL materials now for some of the Indians who want to learn English. Until next time, keep me in your prayers.

9 days to India

I've been overwhelemed by the positive responses I've received lately. At the begining of this thing most folks were calling me crazy & didn't have much good to say, but maybe my insecuriteis let the few negative voices be louder than the many positive ones.

My friends have really pulled together to support me. I am humbled. Now I pray that I won't let them down & that my every action can be acting for Christ & all of humanity. I am very proud to be a Laredoan, a Texan, a citizen of the United States of America, but also a citizen of the world. We're so blessed.

By no means do I think I can save the world-- I know how little and weak that I am. But I'm thinking that maybe I can save some peoples worlds.

My leaving is hardest on the ones that I love most, and it breaks my heart to see their tears, but it is all for the best. I wish no one had to hurt, but by this we will all grow.

Keep me in your prayers.

& all the lambs roar like lions

On a practical note-- there will be no Puerto Rico.. I should really move out of my house. Thursday bowling with work crew, Friday going away party, Saturday fake Thanksgiving with family & Sunday ranch with my sis-in-law. 12 days to take off...

Today was the last Staff meeting I'll attend for a while. Only my immediate bosses know that I'm leaving, & they might be the only ones that care. I had wanted to stand up at the end of the meeting & thank everyone & let them know I was leaving, but it would've sparked questions, & I'm scared that I'll answer & sound egotistical-- I'll make it sound like it's about me & it's not.

I guess I should've stood up & said, "God wants me in India-- I have no idea why, but I am so in love with Him & Jesus & the church right now that I'll give anything to show my love back." That really is how I feel, but I struggle with people constantly questioning me. Yea so I drink too much, can have a bad temper, &  swear, and like dark dirty honkey tonks, good times & bad company, but I know that I am uniquely beloved by the creater of the entire universe.

Folks are right in some ways, I'm not good enough for it, I'm not fooling myself into thinking that I am. The thing is, nobody is good enough, & it doesn't matter. It's through his Mercy that he loves us, not because we deserve it. Actions are necessary, but I act out of love for Him, not in order to gain his love.

My job, dating, wearing nice clothes, an 'important' office, car, money-- these things were my worship & I backburner-ed Christ taking advantage of the fact that he'll always come to my aid. Now I gladly give these and more to glorify the Love he has given.

A guy I've seen said to me last night, "I just want you to get out of this Church phase & go back to being fun again." After somehow refraining from punching him in the face I thought, 'wow.. Jesus is the source of my joy. The Church is alive. What is more exciting, glorious, & fun than that??' But I said nothing. Two wrongs showed their demon glares at me in that statement.

1. I'm obviously not being a model Catholic & need to try harder. But then I thought- shit- c'mon, cut a gal some slack! I'm giving it all to be closer-- I don't have all the answers, but I know where all the answers are & so I'm going to rest my anxious & sinning heart in the Eucharist.
2. Doing things that are outrageous makes people that are comfortable uncomfortable. But "enter through the narrow gate; for the gate that is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it." Matt 7:13

Friday is my last day at work-- I'll have one week off before I leave. Pray for me!

randy roger's band, puerto rico?? someone special & a 2-weeks notice

last night I had the most amazing dinner with some great friends I'm sad I hadn't met earlier. In today's day & age (not to mention working in politics) 'marriage' 'husband' & 'wife' are taboo terms-- at least in a positive light they are. 'A', a beautiful coworker who works for the same organization I do, but in a different department invited me over to her place to have dinner with her husband 'T' & their friend 'M'. She went out of her way to cook Indian dishes to celebrate my departure. Their cozy home boasted photos of their wedding where T sported a classic western tux & A's beautiful dark skin contrasted her gown as her life giving eyes shown out of the frame at any onlookers. T's black bear mount watched us eat our dinner, laugh, play 'pig-out' & 'phase-10' for almost 4 hours. It was a beautiful evening, & I hope one day I can have what they have.

Tonight is the Randy Roger's Concert-- one of my favorite Texas Country Artists. I'm going with 'B' as my date. I'm not a big fan of being picked up at home, after all I have my own car to drive & drives to dang slow anyway!! Okay, that's not completely true, but I'm afraid that he might be someone special, & there are too many other things going on for me right now. But here lies the rub-- social circles are so jumbled up that I see him everywhere anyway-- almost each day (I suspect some is strategic planning on his end..) He says he wants to wait for me to come back from India, but that's another subject all together.

Now what to wear... boots since it's outdoor, maybe jean skirt, t-shirt & ball cap?? hmm.. Maybe should do the get all pretty thing *shrug*

My work circle of gal's have decided to take off to Puerto Rico in a week-- for about 4 days. Even though I haven't moved out of my house yet (16 days til take off to India now) & I'm pretty close to broke.. I think I'm in. I mean hell, I've never been to Puerto Rico & who am I to turn down an opportunity? & I've got some friends with some money that are lookin like they might come thru. Buncha the guys are gettin riled up bout goin too, so I figure we'll all figure it out tonight at the concert. Wish we'da got a table..

I wrote a memo to my 4 immediate bosses today. (yea, it's a weird set up, but I've got about 9 more indirectly that I'll address later.) I thanked them for everything they've done & let them know when my last day of work was. It's hard to convey that I appreciate everything they've done & all the chances they took, stickin their necks out on my account, taking care of me.. There is so much they have done, & I feel like I've written a break up letter. In all honesty, I know I've worked with some of the best-- hopefully that will help me find a job when I get back, tryn not to worry bout it too much.

4 that wanna own me 2 that wanna stone me..

How to move to India for 6 months

1. Establish a contact abroad
or a contact who has a contact abroad. Being a Rotarian and Catholic made it easy for me to find people already in India for guidance, volunteer opportunities, meals & lodging.

2. Save some money
even when you don't make much money. Prioritize and log your spending. What can you do without? Get down to the bare essentials, and you'll be closer to your goal sooner than you thought possible.

3. Request an extended leave of absence from work
ask your boss if you can take two or three months off-- after all, it will make you a more valuable employee. You've given your time and heart to your company, or to the people if you work for the government, one can only hope that they will give it back. If you're lucky, they will understand. If you're luckier, they won't & you'll loose your job by leaving, and will no longer have a time restriction while in India :) (the 2nd is the option I was given.)

4. Apply for Visa
Not terribly tedious, but it is outsourced (irony..) and has to be sent in by mail. Shipping your passport by FedEx can be a little nerve racking, but I had no problems. The visa is activated the day that the consulate receives it, not when you plan to go, so you may loose a few weeks of time.

5. Move out of your house
seeing as to how I am still procrastinating this, you're on your own.

6. Spend as much time with family & friends as possible
Set a schedule, make plans, & get RSVP's, even from family. Be assertive in this process, and always have two suggestions to offer. If you wait and ask "well I duno, what do you want to do?" it'll never get done. Plan a picnic, day at the lake, dinner at your place, etc. Try to combine groups of friends-- it's more fun for everyone involved, and also saves you some time to do other things, like move out of your house.
Be prepared for people to be negative (I'll touch on that in FAQ's at the end of the article) but with family, understand their apprehensions. Appreciate their concern, be merciful, patient, but firm.
On a side note, don't be alarmed when anyone you've ever dated (or haven't dated) begins to confess their "true feelings" for you. I think it's just something about leaving.. take it with a grain of salt.

7. Check WHO (world health organization) & go to the doctor
I had most of my immunizations already from Africa trip. I have a really amazing Doctor (Dr. Cynthia Cantu for anyone in the south Texas area) that I can call up, & helped me with the research. Malaria isn't a concern in the region I'll be in, but really just check the website & talk to your doc.

8. Buy an airline ticket
You probably shouldn't do this until after you get your visa, but I did. You can use a travel agent if you want, but I just used kayak.com which I love. It takes all those cheap ticket web sites & compares them right there for you. Try a few different cities around you to see where it's cheapest to fly out of-- sometimes it won't give you the best combinations. For example, if you're anywhere in Texas try to fly out of DFW or Houston. Then see what airlines at your closest airport fly there. Put them in separately and you'll get a better deal. I bought a one-way & will buy my flight back when I figure out when I'm coming back.

9. Realize you haven't saved enough money (aka fundraise)
I absolutely HATE asking for money. I'm sure a lot of people can relate, but you just got to think in your mind, what's more important-- my goal or the chip on my shoulder? Ain't too proud to beg-- Temptations style. If you truly believe in what you are doing, ask for help. Try a raffle, plate sale, anything. Sell tickets door to door, ask your church, ask your family, have a going away party & ask everyone for a $5 donation. Get creative. Make your bank account number known for those who want to donate directly. & have faith that God will provide.

10. Pray
God will provide. If you do something in his name, he'll take care of the rest. I'm no one special or extra-talented, I am just loved by God. I respect the dignity of each person, and know they we are all unique, irreplaceable, and His. Living your life as loved by God will change your very existence. You realize everything is possible, and no challenge is greater than his love. It's beautiful & amazing to realize it's not about 'you' anymore, but about love.
I don't claim to be some kind of angel or saint- far from it. But I'm also not conceded & stupid enough to think that I know more than God. He says he loves me and that I'm made for greatness. It's the same for you-- step up to the challenge, accept it, & get over yourself. We fall, we sin, we fail-- we're human. Trick is not giving up. 

FAQ's 

1. Why are you going all the way over there when there are people here that need help? Aren't you proud to be American?

Hell yes I'm a proud Texan! & I love this great country & all it has to offer. But there are also people there that need help. Also, there is no way I could give of myself fully here. My job (which I love) takes most of my time, my social calendar is usually packed-- it's as much for me (if not more) as it is for the kids. I also want the experience of living in a 3rd world country. There is a term called "CQ" which refers to cultural intelligence, and I hope to increase mine.

2. So you're loosing your job?? But the economy is so bad and there aren't many jobs- what are you going to do when you get back?

I don't need many jobs, just one. I think I can find one. & how can I expect to move forward if I won't let go to what is behind me?

3. You know they don't eat beef or use toilet paper right? What are you going to do?

When in Rome..

4. But why India?

There are a lot of volunteer programs all over the world. If you're interested, I suggest that you do your research. Most organizations sustain themselves by contributions from 'backpackers' who decide to give a few weeks to volunteer-- meaning you have to pay. I looked into a lot of different options. What was important to me was that it was in a Catholic environment, abroad, and free. I preferred a warm temperature, to work with children, rich culture, and a third world country. India fit the bill. 

5. Great! What can I do to help you?
Your heart will be surprised at the people who are going to come thru, do everything for you, and also at those who won't. A lot of folks will tell you they want to help, but they don't. Try not to take it personally-- they have their own lives & things going on. Remember this was your decision & that you are not a child. Be thankful for all those who help you, and remember to send them something when you are gone. Be thankful for those who fall thru and praise God for trusting you with such a big load!

Africa part 2

So where was I?.. ah, yes. So next morning it's time to take off to Durban. For the tenth time I try to get in on the drivers side, walk around then hop in. My ph just got a new truck-- the dealership is owned by a friend of the family so they delivered it last night. The guys are very excited about this. I'm happy if it has AC & a radio-- more importantly a radio. I haven't been on a real road in about 7 days, small winding roads with students from the local villages walking to school, swerving here and there, the drivers excitement to try out his new wheels-- okay pull over I'm going to vomit. My concern is not taken seriously til I reach over & smack the driver on the arm. I manage to open the door & spew on the pavement & not in the 'Bucky'. I'm misserable, they're squeemish & I squat for a while on the side of the road alone holding my stomach. I *ralph* a few more times & I see a monkey standing near by. Hey little dude-- want this? I'm done with it. Hop back in the truck & were off. They've told me the truck is called Bucky. I tell them I once had a little bit of a thing with a guy named Bucky who could shoot some mean bow- they laugh like there is no tomorrow at his name being 'truck'.

We stop at the ph's house in Pongola to drop off some meat with his wife & two kids. I think of how awful it must be to stay home all day. The house keeper stands at the door as he & his wife exchange words in Afrikaans & his 2 (maybe 3) year old daughter clings to his leg & cries for her daddy not to go. Nice little simple house, dogs running in the yard & two screaming kids & a husband who just stops in to drop off meat-- definately glad I am not her. I go wait in the bucky.

We arrive to Durban where I've decided to do some diving with sharks. Driving down the road there are signs for "Massage & Pleasure Parlors"... they tell me prostitution is legal there. Oh.. We get to a park called 'UShaka' similar to Sea World, but litteraly on the ocean, much better food & way cooler. I bought two vuvuzuela's for a couple of the guys back home & the two I'm with did a great job of breaking them in :) They sounded them off, played swords with them, & I recieved a few playful smacks too. We had KFC & I literally heard 'The Circle of Life' playing. I almost choked on my creame soda. "You all like, actually listen to this-- omg, toooooo funny I'm listening to 'aaaaaaaa-beesueeennaaaaa' in flipping Africa." They continued eating, one commented "what, its a good song."

Okay, wet suit on, standing at the unsafe looking top of this tank where my instructions are, "Just get into here *points at plastic cage type thing*, and don't fall into the tank." Oh, okay. I ask, "Um, can you come in with me?" Man responds, "No, this is something you must experience for yourself." Okay Rafiki-- I'm flipping out, can I get a little more direction?? Guess not. I'm not the best swimmer-- what freaks me out the most at first is the water-- until I see the sharks. I kick around & my foot slips out of one of the gaps in the enclosure-- scare the days out of myself & jerk it back in. Now I'm in a floating cannon ball position in the tank. The photographer is flailing his arms at me to pose & I shake my head no. The sharks come check me out, then continue their swimming. I unpeel myself out of the death grip of my arms & try to loosen up. The tank has now been jimmied out into the middle of the tank on a pully system-- if I lean over to much to one side the top takes on water & can flip, or let in a shark. I'm done with this whole shark thing & then-- I relax. There's a little school of fish swimming by & these amazing large creatures all around me. I almost missed it-- because I wasn't willing to get over myself. I let go- shit I'm already here, if anything bad is going to happen worrying isn't going to stop it.

Africa

As much as I'd like this blog to be chronological, this trip is fresh on my mind. I'll jump back later to fill in gaps.

Through folks met in other adventures, I found myself booked for a safari for one in Kwa-Zulu Natal in the Republic of South Africa. I've done a bit of traveling, but I'd be remised if my apprehensions were hidden from you. I'd heard whispers that my ph (professional hunter, read- guide) was hunting illegally; I'd started speaking to my ex-boyfriend (stupid move..) who was not too pleased about my week in the wilderness with a handful of young, attractive, smart, witty men with the sexiest accents you have ever heard... okay, maybe his worries were not unwarranted, but they were annoying nonetheless. My mother had just found some naughty emails by her significant other & was moving back into my place, & I was pretty convinced I might lose my job for taking time off-- again; day before the trip & I'm not even packed. I decide to go to Rotary- usual Wednesday night & drink too much Cabernet-- I'll pack in the morning.

Out of rotary & I decide to stop at the grocery store for some munchies for the flight. An old lonely looking man might be following me-- the wine has made finding beef jerky at this supersized conglomerate HEB damn near impossible and he's in my isle again. He stops me to tell me I look like that girl who is about to marry the Prince. *eye roll..* I tell him I'm going to be in London on that day, so if she doesn't show up I'll be happy to step in. He asks why, the Fab Cab from earlier answers-- does most of the talking really-- & turns out the geezer used to be an attorney (gag) at the place I currently work. He asks me if a certain coworker has ever tried to um.. I'll keep it PG & say hit on me. He says some other dumb shit that brings me to & I tell him to eff off. I find my goodies, another bottle of wine & head home for some late night packing.

Layovers & delays.. highlights as follows: saw an old boyfriends best friend who told me how ***** still misses me. About a million US soldiers at Houston airport, very hot. Great sports bar convo with a gal from Chicago headed to Guadalajara to visit family & two guys from Nowhere, Canada headed to the Bahamas for a week.

London the day of the Royal Wedding. In the totally unprofessional poll I took from people I know I'd gotten about half saying don't even try to leave the airport & the other half not giving two pence about it. My friend Alex told me I absolutely had to get out & be a part of history, so I did. I took out 'pounds' at an ATM, got directions from a customs lady & hit the 'tube' (subway system). I tried putting dollars into a machine that only took cards to buy my pass & some Asian tourists helped me without speaking a word of English. Silly American.. I met a guy on the tube getting ready for his friends 'stag party'. I asked him what they were going to shoot it with. Turns out that translates to bachelor party for them. He gave me directions & his number that I misplaced (if you read this, call me!) I transferred at Piccadilly Circus & next thing I knew I was in the middle of London.

There were SSOO many people-- so many calm people.. so many sober people- I was definately not in Texas anymore. Everyone seemed to be genuinely interested in the wedding & watching the big screens. I asked a girl to take a photo of me on some walk-across bridge with the London Eye & Big Ben in the background. I saw a sign that I thought said free rum-- upon closer observation it said "free run"... I met some folks, walked by creepy street performers, & headed out in front of some important looking building where we saw the Mayor of London & other guests of the wedding leaving. Walked around for a couple of hours & headed back to the airport.

4 hours in the plane & it hasn't taken off. Great job South African Airways... This means I (& just about everyone else within earshot) have missed connecting flights in Jo-berg. Window seat, nice. Lady sitting next to me- totally awesome. Has been visiting her daughter in London & heading back home to South Africa. She calms me down during my anxiety & we share some good laughs, snores, & common frustrations over the 11 hour flight. A spunky blonde has been hired by my ph & meets me at the airport to help me switch my flight-- which I am completely capable of doing myself.. am I supposed to tip her? I'm exhausted & everyone is rude. One more flight to Durban.

Finally off the plane, I spot two matching camo-ball caps & breathe a sigh of relief. They quickly take my bags & ask "is this it?" Err.. yes, should I have more? How do they know I packed last minute & forgot things already?? So commences our 3 hour drive to the game reserve outside of Pongola.

The ocean is by our side & everything is so green. I fall asleep & wake up a lot to them speaking Afrikaans. There are about a million stars in the sky as we arrive. I can't get used to them doing everything for me.. I can carry my own bag thank you very much. Praise Jesus we've made it. Shooting a zebra tomorrow & goodnight.

Up & at em! with a cold.. dern. First stop- the shooting range to adjust to their rifles, which I will be borrowing. Later we watch two brothers stalking giraffe from atop the highest peak. We see the heard run-- and then hear the shot. One fumbles.. There are two more shots & the prize is down. We drive down to the beast & it is impressive. The shots are well placed & he is gone. We arrive before the hunters as they have run back to the lodge to fetch the wives & children. Upon their return I congratulate him & am more than ready to get my own hunt on.

200 yard shot at a zebra. My ph asks if I can hit it. I ask if he wants me to hit a white or a black stripe- he rolls his eyes & sets up the shooting sticks. The bull is resilient. We follow the blood for another 300 yards across a running stream & he sits watching us from under a tree. My ph asks if I will have a shoulder mount or skin. I say skin- he advises on a shot right behind the ear striate to the brain. Exhale & gently squeeze the trigger, & I've got my first African kill. They leave me with him as they fetch the vehicle. His size is impressive. His coat is wet from crossing the creek. Legs much shorter than a horse- his mane is a consistent 5 inches sticking strait up, color pattern alternating. Brown nose, wide face, there is not much blood and lots of ticks. I thank God for the animals he has made for us, and for ethical hunting. I know no piece of this animal will go to waste, and to kill this creature has been an honor and privilege. We take some photos, the boys winch him into the truck & we head back to camp for some drinks.

There are a bunch of old South African men getting there drink on at the main lodge at the game reserve, no one speaks good English except 'Api' who is my ph's assistant. They're playing "country music" for me on the computer & asking why we line dance instead of touching each other. One says he would like to meet "the American hillbilly rednecks" that he hears so much about. I tell him to give me a minute & I can probably get my dad on the line for them. I think of something one of my bosses told me before I left. He said, "You’re going to Africa? Why? Don’t you know those people all want to come here?" I thought about how different cultures aren't about being better or worse, it's just about what you're used to & what you're willing to learn about someone else.

Next day: my cold has gotten worse; I'm still picking ticks off of myself. I touched a really pretty flower-- that was poisonous then rubbed my face. Poor Api accidentally touched an electric fence. My cough alerted a beautiful warthog & I missed my shot. Some of the guys are becoming very obnoxious in that way that a young female traveling alone should expect.. I call up the ex & he doesn't answer-- just texts me back-- I can receive texts but cannot send them. Nightfall, we go spot lighting for porcupines.. yeap like for hogs & coyotes, but these aren't Bambi sized sonic the hedgehog little things, they are some big mothers. Drink lots of beer & head back to the lodge for one more before calling it a night &-- hello hotties.. Two tall blonde South African's just in looking for a rhino in the area. Yes I am tanked at this point, but maybe they can't tell... We all wind up tying one on & it was a good time.

Now if there is something you should know about these South Africans, it is that they sure do like their dogs. Just about every room I walked into had itself a Jack Russell terrier. I thought it was one quick little sucker that kept following me. Then I decided there must be two of them. Turns out there were about 12. Gita- which means 'Dance' in Zulu went hunting with us a couple of times & she was a good little partner. Okay, more hunting. The ph drove, me & his assistant or 'Api' for apprentice road up top in the back along with a skinner Roy & tracker Chambolari (spelling is probably wrong. His name means Happy in Zulu).

We walked, saw a common reedbuck with two females (let this be a lesson men...) He was caught up in his ladies & never heard us coming. We got up to about 130 yards & set up the shooting sticks. Hit him in his vitals-- he took two steps back, one forward, and he was down. The guys picked him up & took him to a clearing for photos. When we stopped we saw a heard of zebras with a baby giraffe looking over at us. I never knew that they grazed together. His little head barely sticking out over the tall grass was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.  All that tall dry grass means nothing to them though. It is too hard for them to eat-- they have to get down to the greens sprouting from the ground or up in those trees. Just then I took my rifle &.. Just kidding! What do you all think I am? Back to camp-- more amazing food & into my Jacuzzi bath tub to check myself for ticks.

That night by the camp fire as the boys had their cigarettes & soda & I had some rum- we started talking about names. I say how I love the name Agnes & if I ever have a daughter I would like that to be at least her middle name. Someone comments as to how that is a 'black name' in South Africa. The talk turns to race. One hottie tells the light hearted story of one of his friends coming to the states for a hunting show in Vegas. His South African friend resembles him-- tall, blonde (for my sake & the story we'll say he is also rather good looking) and his name is Tyrome. Tyrome is at the workout room in Vegas before a show & a gentleman on the treadmill next to him who happens to be black (I don't know what is proper here-- obviously not African..??) starts conversation.
"Hey brotha my name is Nick, whats up? Did you get that screen working? I saw you strugglin with it a little bit."

"Oh, yes hello, my name is Tyrome. How are you?"
"Naw brotha for real, whats your name?"

akward pause... "My name is Tyrome.."

"Aw alright alright, well where you from?"

"I'm from South Africa"

"No shit?? So you speak Zulu & shit?"

"Actually I speak Zulu quite fluently; would you like to hear some?"

Tyrome commences to speak common phrases in Zulu, they finish conversation and carry on with their respective days. The next morning Tyrome comes into the workout room and there are about twelve of Nicks friends waiting to hear Zulu. Tyrome is a little embarrassed, but speaks Zulu for his small assembly.

We all laugh & someone else chimes in about how mixing is unnatural-- wait, maybe that's Captain Morgan I'm hearing because he couldn't have possibly just said-- "If you put a black rhino & a white rhino in the same enclosure, they don't mix. They know better than humans do. They know to stick to their own." Oookay, really? Back home my best friend & I joke about how we are 'mutts'. We're half Hispanic/Mexican/ whatever you’re supposed to call it & half white. Personally I think it's awesome to have access & the history of two cultures, but apparently the sentiment isn't shared by everyone... The stars are too pretty for arguing- & I've been enough of a fighter for one day- feeling like a lover.. The collective silence tells me no one else here really agrees, and we let that one burn away into the fire.

I saw monkeys!! In trees, in Africa :) So very cool. There was lots more sightseeing, 'Happy' picked guava off a tree for me to eat. I started to peel it like a lemon & he laughed & took my arm & pushed the fruit up to my face. Got it. Yummy little things. Let me break down the language barriers going on. Roy & Happy only speak Zulu, Api speaks English & Afrikaans & our ph-- who is inside the vehicle & not really up with us most of the time speaks all three. Lovely. So there was lots of hand waiving, pointing & speaking slower-- as if it helps any of us understand another language..?? But the general vibe was good. We keep teaching each other words that we kept forgetting.


Last day on the reserve & my cold is finally completely gone. My scalp is a little dry from washing my hair every second we're back at camp to rid myself of ticks.. But nails look good, this mascara is totally working for me & I'm ready to find my blesbuck. I love the shape of this animal’s face & his thick horns. Other than my warthog I've been looking forward to this animal the most. A long hot day of looking for him & he has evaded us. There are twenty minutes to sundown & there’s a small male impala, maybe 2 & 1/2 or 3 years old 120 yards from us, to the right. We'd been sitting down in the grass watching the females out in front of us & my ph spotted him out to the right. He whispers that its not a trophy size, but he's legal & we could take him as meat management-- I'm in flipping Africa, it's an impala-- I think he is beautiful. I tell him I want it. He gets down on his knees & I squat behind him. I lay the rifle on his right shoulder. Exhale & squeeze.. He jumps-- had to have leapt at least 6 feet in the air about three times over a small hill. I am pretty convinced that I hit him, but with a leap like that, we're both doubting contact. We walk to the spot he was at when the shot went off & there lay blood and feces- stomach shot. If we have to track him far , we're SOL because sun is almost set. The four guys lead, we're following the blood trail. I'm looking down trying not to fall into a hole & I look up & they're all stopped looking at me. "What? what happened? Is there a bug on me?" They smile & I look about 6 yards in front of me in the brush is my perfect African impala. I walk up to him & look at his beautiful coat & his horns. I hug my ph & the other guys give me a man handshake & hard pat on the back. They carry him out to a clearing for a few photos. I ask Api if he's lighter than a zebra & he chuckles & says it is. Back to camp for some drinks, sleep, & packing for the morning.