Thursday, December 19, 2013

I'll be in Rooooommmmeee...

  
Dreaming of home at this Christmas time
Even more than I usually do
And since I know it’s a long road back,
I promise you

I’ll be in Rooome for Christmas
You can count on meeee
Please have cheese and gnooOOOchi
And pleasant chiantiiii

Christmas eve will find me
Where the ruins lean
I’ll be in Rome for Christmas
Here’s hoping I don’t freeeeze

---

I apologize in advance for rubbing this in your face, but you must understand – I haven’t tasted real cheese or wine for 17.5 months.  Rome is going to be FLY.

I’ve also been told that I’m going to freeze my buns off, so thank you in advance, Mom, for bringing my ski jacket in your suitcase.

T-minus 2 days, folks!  It’s quite an exciting time.

The trimester wrapped up almost as soon as it started, unfortunately, but I have given my students some reading to do over the break.  Here’s hoping they follow through!


In an effort to give you more insight into what we crazy (read: bats*** insane) volunteers get up to, I thought I’d share some articles I wrote recently.  The one about “Informatique” was for a technical exchange newsletter, the one about the “perfect volunteer” was submitted as a part of our peer support network outreach.  I hope you enjoy, and Merry Christmas!


 -  -  -  -  -

"Informatique au village"


Over the past two months my French vocabulary has sky-rocketed… if you want to talk about AZERTY/QWERTY, cursors, recovering documents, or tool bars, that is.

My ability to explain the significance of proper typing technique is more eloquent than I ever imagined it would be, and my appreciation for Microsoft Office’s automatic “Voulez-vous enregistrer les modifications apportées à Document 1?” message has reached an all-time high.  Even my dreams have taken on a certain grainy pixilated quality, and when a student asks me a question during English class, my knee jerk response is, “Try double-clicking the icon.”

Yessirs and Mesdames, computer literacy has effectively taken over my life.

But it’s not all bad!

In fact, this is the first time that I have been face-to-face with a class of students that, in its entirety, freely chose to follow my course.  Let me tell you, the motivation and timeliness alone are enough to make me want to teach computer literacy full-time.


A little background on how this all began:

Last spring I submitted a PCPP proposal to create a “Learning and Information Technologies Center” at my collège/lycée.  Since the total funds needed did not surpass $2,500 (meaning, the proposal did not need to be reviewed by a committee), the project was approved, posted online, and funded by mid-summer.  I was able to bring back to Ditinn 4 new laptops in September.  The laptops were purchased in Medina Market in Conakry, and software was installed by a friend (originally from my village) who works there. 
The original plan was to acquire 10 laptops through a company in the U.K., but after hearing a plethora of horror stories about computers being stolen at the Conakry airport my counterparts and I decided to purchase them in-country.  So far, so good!  The laptops run like a dream (*knock on wood*), and have a 4.5 hour battery life.  This allows us to hold 3-4 full classes before having to take them to the local telecentre to charge.

 
Current program:

Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I work with one group of 8 boys in collège/lycée, and one group of 8 teachers.  Each class is 1.5 hours, with the first half hour spent reviewing previous lessons and discussing the new skills that will be used that day.  The remaining hour is used for hands-on practice.  I’ve found having 2 students per computer to be beneficial since there’s often one person who has better understood a certain concept or physical technique (gliding your finger over the mouse to move an arrow on screen is tough, yo).  They then help their partner to complete the tasks that I assign them.  It became clear early on that I could repeat instructions over and over and over again, but when such information comes from a peer, the students are much more likely to accept and remember it.  Go figure.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I meet with a group of 12 female students.  This group has been, by far, the most challenging to work with.  At the same time, it has given me greater insight into the reality of girls’ education in Guinea.  Many of these students can speak French fairly well, but when it comes to written instructions, the girls hit a roadblock.  At the beginning of the course, I was running around from computer to computer, reiterating instructions and practically hold their hands and guiding them to the correct place on the keyboard or mouse.  It was a disheartening realization that some of these girls were functionally illiterate.  They can copy instructions down very well, but it would appear that they have never been encouraged to actively apply such instructions to a subsequent task.  However, this doesn’t mean that they can’t still benefit from computer literacy lessons.  With the male students and teachers, I began a pretty information-heavy program on Microsoft Office and Excel.  I’ve since changed the format of my girls’ class to include more oral, step-by-step instructions, and activities that give them practice in concrete skills (e.g. manipulating the mouse, typing lessons, navigating resources online and through programs like Microsoft Encarta).  The result has been much more pleasant for all parties involved.  Once these skills have been developed, I plan on tackling the more abstract Microsoft Office Suite with them.


Future plans:

I’ll continue instructing the teachers for the duration of the school year.  The plan is to train them in the use of Microsoft Excel so that they can calculate students’ grades at the end of each trimester, as well as to connect them to online resources that they can incorporate into their lesson plans.
For the boys and girls, I’m in the process of selecting the most advanced students to begin an intensive training program this coming January.  I’m finalizing an “Introduction to Computer Literacy” guide that I’ll make available in both French and English this spring.  The guide will include French/English technical vocabulary, model lesson plans, a list of online resources, and in-country contacts (e.g. cyber cafés, IT specialists).  The students in the intensive course will then use this guide to instruct their peers in typing skills, and in basic Microsoft Office Suite activities.  It’s turning into a sort of computer literacy internship program.
We’re also coming up with a pricing plan to generate a small amount of income to pay for charging the computers, as well as to further develop our Learning and Information Technologies Center.  Some ideas floating around are purchasing a solar panel for charging, acquiring additional laptops, and printing written computer resources from online.

Some unexpected developments:
1.       Originally, we had planned to secure the library at our school so that the laptops could be stationed there 24/7.  However, the overnight guardian that worked at the school last year has been absent for the past three months, and so the level of security available is unfortunately inadequate.  This has led me to keeping the laptops at my house, which in turn has led to the entire village to believe that I purchased four brand-spanking-new laptops for my own personal use.  It’s an unfortunate turn of events, but not an insurmountable obstacle.  Like most everything in PCV life, it’s a work in progress.

2.       As mentioned before, the girls’ group has proved to be a considerable challenge to manage.  However, it has gotten me more involved in gender-equality initiatives, something which I felt was seriously lacking from my activities last year.  I’ve slowly begun to see a change in the girls’ attitudes towards me.  Teenagers will be teenagers, but I’ve noticed a little less surliness during class and a little more willingness to participate.  Despite the difficulties, I’ve found this experience to be well worth the effort.  I also plan to mesh the Youth Entrepreneurship syllabus into our computer classes.  We'll practice Word formatting, making Excel spreadsheets, and creating PowerPoint presentations using material from the program!   

Now that I’ve effectively talked your ear off (would it be more accurate to say “typed your eye out?”) about computer literacy, I’d like to pose a question.  Are you involved with, have you ever been involved with, or would you like to become involved with computer literacy activities?  If you answer “yes...” 

I’m hoping for input on the computer literacy guide so that it can be edited, modified, and eventually made widely available to interested volunteers in Guinea, and I'm also seeking contacts for my students.  They'll be learning how to use e-mail this coming trimester, so if you'd like to be a pen-pal (you could practice your French skills), or if you'd like to be an English-language resource for them - please contact me!


Merci, my friends!


------

   Oh, my God, Becky.  Would you look at her VRF?  It is sooo big. 
It’s like she’s got a time-turner or something.
   Omg, did you just read Harry Potter in French?
   Um, I have no projects so only like, 4 times last month.  It blew my tête. 
Anyway, I heard she speaks fluent Malinke and Kissi.
I heard she eats with her hands and only uses the water method, and she’s never gotten sick.
Uck.  She’s just so… bien integrée.

There’s that one volunteer.  You know the one.  He rocks the leppi like he was born to wear indigo and dances to the djembe like a pro.  She’s already submitted a proposal, received grant money, and successfully completed her first project within a month of In-Service Training.  He organized a national basketball tournament/fundraiser to pay for a sign language teacher for the group of deaf students in his village.  She rallied her 9e class to paint a world map at their collège, and now has a dedicated troupe of young artists who go from town to town painting educational, bilingual French-Susu murals.  For free. 
They’re a wonderful example of a human being and you hate it.  Why?  Because in our eyes they’re the ideal Peace Corps Volunteer, and that makes us, well, sub-par.
Maybe your first project flopped.  Maybe you’ve had to move sites and start all over because of an unfortunate incident, or because of an unfortunately belligerent stalker-fou who wouldn’t leave you alone.  Maybe your Franglais makes everyone’s head hurt (including your own), and your personal hygiene has taken a hit ever since your well ran dry last week.  Maybe after the tenth time someone generalized that “tous les noirs sont paresseux, et tous les blancs sont des bons travailleurs,” you screamed that they were being an offensive jerk.  Maybe you’ve had to take a couple mental health days away from site because you almost smacked a petit who followed you around throwing pebbles at you and chanting FooOTE all day. 
It happens.  As a PCV, we tend to have in our minds some sort of “ideal volunteer.”  Perhaps we equate extending your service as the one true mark of success, or choosing to “Early Terminate”/getting Medically-separated means that you weren’t good enough.  Perhaps your site mate loves spending hours on end with the market ladies, while you feel exhausted after about 5 minutes in their company.  If you think about going back to the States after a particularly difficult month, or week, or day, or even just a really horrible hour at site, you feel guilty about it and weak in comparison to the rest of your stage.  If anyone can explain where we get these dramatic standards of perfection and failure, please pop that info into the next monthly newsletter.  As it stands, viewing your service in this manner can have some seriously negative effects on your psyche. 
Peace Corps says that one of the most important goals of a PCV is to demonstrate how we, as citizens of the United States, are diverse in a multitude of ways.  After all, we know that we’re different, and are we not quite proud of our unique qualities?  Peace Corps also encourages us to try new things and to step out of our comfort zones.  Realistically speaking though, our basic day-to-day living often already reaches far beyond what we’re used to.  Pushing your boundaries is good, but uncompromisingly living outside of them to the detriment of your well-being is not.  Talk to a volunteer who has been here for a while, someone who you think is a great, even ideal example.  Guaranteed, they’ve struggled to find balance during their service and they’ll still think that they don’t measure up to other volunteers in certain ways.  Sometimes they’ve had to live in the shadow of a previous volunteer who pulled off an amazing project, or sometimes they feel ashamed that they don’t have a bunch of Guinean friends.  Sometimes they’re 17 months into their service and they still think about ET-ing.  Sometimes they share the common concern that, as a volunteer with limited resources, they’ll never be able to help enough people, and that this makes their time here inconsequential.  These things reach beyond our control, and it’s not our job to override our basic wants, needs, and emotional reactions in the name of service.  Peace Corps is not about changing yourself into a new person, it’s about learning and adapting, and it could be argued that understanding and taking care of yourself is the most important thing you can do as a PCV.  If you’re physically and mentally stable, you’re going to bounce back from moments of adversity much quicker than if you’re neglecting your health in order to please other people.  The quicker you bounce back, the quicker you’re going to tackle that next initiative, whether it be something as grand as creating a library for your community or as simple as helping your neighbor to fix her fence. 
Let’s take a closer look at this “ideal volunteer” for a moment.  Think about that someone you look up to in-country.  Think about why you look up to them.  Odds are, there are a couple very specific reasons that they’ve gained your admiration.  Now, can you reasonably assume that they have absolutely every aspect of their life in perfect order?  Is life ever like this, even back home?  No.  Everyone has their good and bad days, their struggles and triumphs.  It would seem that we’ve unwittingly concocted an “ideal volunteer” who is, in fact, an amalgamation of amazing qualities coming from many different people.  Though we’re all pretty awesome human beings, the “ideal volunteer” does not exist.  Period.  So why do we insist on holding ourselves up an unrealistic standard? 
Yes, having an ideal in mind can help motivate you throughout your service.  But make your ideal your own.  Ask yourself, “How can I improve myself in a way that respects my values, my past experiences, and my objectives in life?”  In the end, will it help your mental health and motivation when you compare yourself to another volunteer who lives in a different site, who has different resources at their disposal, who came in with different educational and professional expertise, who has a different tolerance for socializing, and who ultimately has very different goals for the future?
Uh uh.  O’o.  Ade.  Non.
So how do we maintain a positive attitude when faced with other volunteers’ success and our perceived failure?
First, let’s analyze some behaviors that would make someone a bad volunteer (because who doesn’t like a little trash-talking once in a while?).
1.       If you smack children and pinch (not nicely) babies on the reg.
2.       If you break every Peace Corps rule imaginable with the sole aim of giving a metaphorical middle finger to “the man.”
3.       If you receive grant money and use it to buy a sweet new moto for yourself.
4.       If you buy codeine pills from your local pharmacy and start selling them to kids at your CECOJE in order to finance that fancy Samsung Duos phone you’ve wanted for months.
5.       If, when you get frustrated with your students/counterparts/petits/neighbors, you yell and them and say that they’re lazy, stupid, good-for-nothings.
6.       If you steal your neighbor’s cow and sell it to pay for your trip to Senegal next summer, and then blame it on your host brother.
7.       If you knowingly spread false information during sensitizations or classroom lessons.
8.       If you accept bribes from your students in exchange for giving them passing grades.

If you avoid committing the above acts, it would appear that you’re doing a damn good job as a volunteer.  So, relax.  If STOMP Out Malaria isn’t your deal, if joining VAC or JET seems dull, if youth entrepreneurship doesn’t exactly light your fire, or if you dread giving public presentations on food security, that’s okay.*  Just as there is no “ideal volunteer,” there is no one correct combination of activities that will make your service successful.  Don’t be afraid to pave your own way in Guinea.  You know best your personal mix of extroversion/introversion, and how that impacts your day-to-day activities.  If you need to de-stress by taking an epic bike trip, take that bike trip.  On the other hand, if you need to spend a couple days alone in your house, watching movies and eating care package nutella and graham crackers, do it!  Your sanity takes precedent over immediate productivity.  Your productivity will develop as you nurture yourself.  And with time, you’ll figure out how best your artistic, organizational, and intellectual skills can be applied to make a project mind-blowingly awesome.  Peace Corps is going to be different for everyone and if, at the end of the day, you feel like you’re putting your skills to good use in a way that appeals to your likes or even your greater goals in life, then you’re rocking your service.
So, can we agree to trash this batty idea of the “ideal volunteer?”  You do you and, rest assured, people will appreciate your genuineness. 

*Just a side note, we in JET believe that all of these programs are fan-freaking-tastic.  Keep up the good work dudes and dudettes.


Snakes en Eau Pleine


If my life could be summarized by a movie title, it would be “Snakes en Eau Pleine.”  This franglais very roughly translates to “Snakes in high/full water.”  Given my druthers, I would be played by Lindsey Lohan (pre-botox), and Samuel L. Jackson would be played by our Peace Corps training manager, Ousmane.




Now, to assuage your fears, there has been no Noah’s Ark-proportioned flood of serpents coursing through Ditinn, nor is it raining cats and dogs and boa constrictors (rainy season is over, silly).  But I did recently take a trip out to the waterfall with a group of volunteers…

Mom : earmuffs/eyemuffs, please.



We arrived at the scenic grotto, sweaty, sandy, sufficiently bramble-covered, and more than ready to jump into the water.  I was just about to strip down to my skivvies, when I happened to glance at the water, where I saw a big black twig lazily floating near the shore.  And, seemingly of its own accord, that big black twig wriggled all of a sudden.  Then it squirmed a couple times in a beautiful « s » motion.  By the time it lifted its head out of the water and flicked its tongue in the air, I was already half-way back up the hill (barefoot) desperately searching for a large, preferably thorny club… or bazooka... whichever I happened to come upon first.      

My compatriots, being very brave and manly men, stood on the shore saying very brave and manly things like “They’re more scared of us than we are of them.” 

My logical mind muttered, Pssht, yah I know that.



But in reality my reaction was more along the lines of...

 



Soooo, I didn’t so much as dip a toe in the water, even though the snake was long-gone.  I’m still puzzled as to why it would’ve been swimming there, since the temperature must’ve been less than comfortable for a cold-blooded animal.  One volunteer suggested that it was hunting frogs. 


I think snakes just delight in scaring the bejeezus out of portos like me.



 
In other, less hair-raising news, we are now one and a half months into the school year (in principle, at least) and I have met with each class 8 times.  That’s not counting my 10th graders, who I see only once per week.  We’ve had a grand total of 3 classes together. 

Why the low stats?  First we had the delay because of elections.  Then we had the feast day after the Hajj.  Then yesterday and today we celebrated the beginning of the Muslim New Year.  There has been much drumming and much food-eating all around.  I saw my first cow slaughtering, and can now quite confidently say that I never wish to see a skinned animal ever again.  Hard-core vegetarianism is looking more and more appealing every day, I tell you.   

Anyhow, back to school.  Classes are going smoothly with the groups of students that I taught last year.  They’re very open and easy-going, and much more willing to participate with me this year.  The newbies (aka my 12th graders) are either suffering from collective tongue-paralysis, or I frighten them out of their wits.

Whatever the cause, it’s like I’m staring at a herd of deer caught in headlights every Tuesday and Thursday.  Maybe I’m too intimidating for my own good?

If you have any suggestions on breaking the ice, please let me know.  I’ve been trying my darnedest to get them to ease up a little.


Tomorrow I’m biking up the mountain to go to a “teacher training” informational meeting.  There’s a volunteer who has extended for a third year so that she can work with the Department of Education in Dalaba in order to establish a professional development program for teachers in our prefecture, and she's recruiting help from other volunteers.  It’s exciting stuff!

Ta-ta-for-now!




Friday, December 6, 2013

All the... small things...




 Blink 182 has been stuck in my head for the past 4 hours.   

Malheureusement, my iPod battery is dead so I can’t listen to anything else, so here’s to another 4 hours of “SAY IT AIN’T SO, I WILL NOT GO, TURN THE LIGHTS OFF, CARRY ME HOME- NuhNA NuhNA NuhNA NuhNA NA NA” which is the only line I truly remember.

Heureusement, this also led to a new blogpost!

-   -   -   -   -   -   -   -

The song took on a myriad of meanings while I was riding my bike this evening.  First, I was overwhelmed by the small flecks of dust and manure jovially jumping from the front wheel into my face.  Then, I almost crashed my bike into a cow because I was distracted by the small insects that somehow made it into my biking jersey and started biting my abdomen.  

But then small children, overjoyed by the presence of an unfamiliar porto (my reputation only extends about 3km outside of Ditinn), began waving frantically and jumping up and down by the side of the road.  This put a smile on my face, and the “small things” meditation took a definitively positive turn near the end of my ride. 

As I’m rounding the bend in my Peace Corps service (gotta love them cycling metaphors), it’s clearer just how influential all the small things in life have become.  I’ve sincerely come to appreciate how a smile can still touch people’s hearts  even when they possess no common language, how a simple compliment can go so far to boost someone’s confidence (especially when they’re hardly ever told that they’ve done something well), and how a small gift can turn your day around and make you forget for a second that you’re an unfamiliar and bizarre face in a foreign place.

I’d like to share with you some of the small things that have added a wholly unanticipated raw and vibrant quality to my life these past 17 months (in no particular order).


Being given a nickname, even if it’s as simple as “ma cherie” or “missy.”

Dancing with bobos (babies) in the middle of the town.

Finding carrots at weekly market. And maybe/maybe not (okay, definitely) squealing with delight.

Hearing your neighbor children narrate your every move as you get ready for school in the morning (sometimes it’s nice to be fascinating without trying).

Developing new skills (sewing, basic bike maintenance and repair, painting dried gourds...).

Still laughing at the ridiculous sounds that goats are capable of making.

Hot, freshly baked bread for breakfast.

The way the countryside makes your jaw drop no matter how many times you see it.

Making a complete fool of yourself by committing some cultural faux pas, but being able to laugh about it with everyone who saw.

When your neighbor sticks up for you when someone is giving you a hard time.

Fog covering the valley in the morning.

Phone calls and messages from people back home.

The nightly cow “harmonizing” that spans across the entire town as they make their way home.

Finding out your hardware boutique guy also sells honey.

Exploring the many footpaths that wind off into the wilderness, and sometimes discovering how they connect!

When an old woman selling bananas  cries out in joy when you respond to her in Pular.

Happening upon live music and dancing.

Successfully bartering for a piece of cloth.

Being able to make a joke in French.

Having a rough day, then calling another volunteer and hearing that they know exactly what you’re going through.

Finding a new swimming hole.

Being gifted candy wrappers by a small child (it’s like monopoly money).

Students approaching you with their own school-improvement initiatives.

Crunchy rice on the bottom of the pan.

Passing through a random village and seeing someone you know.

...Conversely, going to a big city and running into someone from your village.

Clear nights where the number of stars takes your breath away.

When a stranger tells you fondly of a Peace Corps teacher they had 20 years ago, and how they encouraged them to pursue their current career.

A gift of a sachet of frozen juice on market day.

Finally understanding a play on words in Pular.

Heating water for a bath.

Receiving  text messages in English from your former students.

Visiting a friend’s village.

Making students smile and loosen up in class (for example: after mimicking a shark, which is very hard to explain where there are no beaches and/or Steven Spielberg movie score to accompany you).

Daily coffee chats/awesome history lessons with Alpha.

When a complete stranger helps you fix a flat tire.

Discovering new delicacies (latest editions: Guinean toffee, peanuts like the ones in Cracker Jacks, and “melange,” a delicious tea/coffee mixture).

Reading books with little kids.

Just sitting down with students and talking about their aspirations; it turns out that there are some extremely genuine and kind-hearted future lawyers, doctors, journalists, and artists in my classes.



I’m thankful for all of these things and more, and honestly wish that you guys were here to see them.  Hey, I’ve still got 9 months left, so if any of you are itching to get your Guinea on...

Just let me know :)




Saturday, October 19, 2013

Time Warp



What’s that effect called, when you buy a green Subaru and then suddenly start seeing green Subarus everywhere? 

(You can substitute green Subaru for red convertible, pogo stick, shirt with a unicorn on it, orange cowboy hat, dangly feather earrings, a tattoo of John Lennon… whatever you like, really.)  

Anyhow, it happened recently to me with the Rocky Horror Picture Show.  On my most recent visit to Labe, a bunch of volunteers decided to watch a movie together because, well, most of us are going through cinematic withdrawal and want to watch all the movies ever when we’re in the presence of technology and stable electricity.  We chose the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

It was just as marvelous as when I first watched it when I was 15 years old.  Only now, I understand the innuendos and don’t wonder if all people from Transylvania are transsexual.  

Upon returning to site, I started reading “The Perks of Being a Wallflower,” in which Rocky Horror plays a fairly significant role.  Then I discovered, and promptly listened to in its entirety, the Rocky Horror soundtrack on my iPod.  

I’ve had “Toucha-toucha-toucha-touch me” stuck in my head for the past 4 days.  Help?

Currently the angelic warbles of Edith Piaf are doing their best to get me out of this Rocky rut.

It’s a hot, hot, hot Saturday in Ditinn.  All the laundry lines are laden with drying vestments, all the rice and sauces are simmering in the shade, and I’m enjoying some down-time.  Down-time from school?? You might be wondering.  Well, no.  Not exactly.  I’ve taught a total of 2 English classes since the “ouverture” of school on October 3rd.  First, people thought school was delayed because of elections.  Then we learned this was misinformation, but by the time folks started coming to classes, the feast of Tabaski arrived.  To be exact: The feast of Tabaski (an international Muslim holiday, called many different things in different countries, but generally “eid al-adha”) was celebrated on October 15th in Conakry (and, I would assume, the world over), but since our town had planned on celebrating on Wednesday, we canceled school on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.  Thursday, it seems, was a day of recovery after fête-ing so hard.

But I haven’t let this delay drive me nuts (not yet)!  I’ve been teaching computer literacy to a group of students and a group of teachers for the past two weeks.  It’s been difficult and has left me feeling like a stuttering numbskull because you have to learn and master a whole new vocabulary to teach “l’informatique.”  Go figure.  My favorite term is “double-cliquer.”  My least favorite is “enregistrer” because the Guinean French “r” is trilled like an “r” in Spanish.  

Try it… /on-rreh-jee-strrey/.


This daily tongue-tying makes my fellow teachers chortle.  As with many mistakes that I make here, I’m thankful that this seems to be an endearing one.

In two weeks time, I’ll be traveling to Conakry to meet the other members of the Youth Entrepreneurship Training Council.  (I actually don’t know if they’re called a “council.”  This will hopefully be one of the many things I learn during our meeting.)  The volunteers who developed the program will soon be heading back to the States (in February), and it’s time to hand over the reigns.  I’m excited that I’ll get to help put on trainings for PCVs and Guineans who want to bring entrepreneurship classes to their schools and/or youth organizations!

Also, in a little over 1 month, we’ll be welcoming the next group of trainees to Guinea.  This realization makes me sort of feel like I’m living in a wormhole, as they’re portrayed in my favorite Jodie Foster movie, “Contact.” 


Everything is beautiful and scary and colorful and speeding by at a nauseating pace, but when I return home it will be like these past two years never happened for anyone but me.  And vice versa, as I recognize that you are experiencing a similar wormhole-esque journey, of which my understanding will be very limited in scope.

I’m done pelting you with whimsical (perhaps incomprehensible) talk of time.  Let’s just say this adventure feels like it’s speeding up every day.  In less than a year I’ll be seeing your lovely faces in person. 


Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, don’t it?