Saturday, June 5, 2010

This post is dedicated to my sister Bonnie, whom I adore.

It was recently brought to my attention by a concerned reader that my sister Bonnie was not mentioned in this blog yet. This is egregious. I am deeply sorry for this thoughtless blunder. Hopefully this post will make up for my carelessness.

I think it is probably easy for those around me to believe that I am moving forward to a new adventure and leaving them behind without much pause. This could not be further from the truth. One of my first thoughts when I found out that I would be going to Africa for two years went something along the lines of this: "Oh shit, how can I live that long without my people??". By "my people" I mean the people in my life who have most impacted my worldview and who are part of my life every day even if they live hundreds of miles away. Hopefully you all know who you are. I hope you all know how much you have changed the way I look at the world and how much it hurts me to think that you won't be sharing in this advenure with me. I wish life would work like a television sitcom. When a main character has to move or get married or have some major life change, every one else somehow ends up doing the same thing. If only our lives could be like Saved By The Bell: The College Years or Boy Meets World!!!!

But life doesn't work that way and even if it did, I guess I am starting a spin-off. I just want you all to know that it does hurt me and that you cannot be forgotten or replaced and that if there were a way to fit you in my luggage and you were willing to go to Africa, then I would make it happen.

I bet Katherine Hepburn didn't have to deal with this shit....

I'm sitting here going over my ever increasing list of things that I need to buy for Africa. While it is fun to put things on the list, I am getting more and more annoyed that I will have to actually spend money to buy them. Some of the stuff is cool but I worry that I won't use a good portion of it once I actually get there. After that thought comes another one that if I don't buy it I will be so pissed at myself when I get there that I didn't get the things that were recommended. Gross. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. Here are some questions I have for the world about my suggested packing list.

1. How am I supposed to know how much underwear I will need for the next two years? I could probably figure out how many pairs of underwear I have gone through in the previous two years, but I have a sneaking suspicion that hand washing and the possibility of pooping my pants for a variety of reasons might take a bigger toll on underwear than whatever I have done the last two years. Conundrum.

2. Who under the age of 50 uses the word "blouse" anymore? I certainly have never used it except with my sister Bonnie to make fun of our friend Liz when she described a male friend of ours as "the one in the blouse". What exactly is a blouse anyway? A button-down shirt? Then why not call it that? When you ask me to bring a blouse, you make me think I am supposed to bring one of the shirts that Bea Arthur wore on Golden Girls and thats depressing. Button downs it is!

3. How am I expected to lure in a rich and handsome philanthropist while wearing a "sturdy" bra? That also sounds like something Bea Arthur would have worn on Golden Girls.

4. Why do you tell me to pack lightly and then give me a three page list of items to bring? Also, why does my job have to be the only one with the extra page of supplies that includes several pounds of classroom materials including books and maps? lol

These are just a few of the things that have intrigued me about this preparation process.

French is the official language of Benin so I will probably have to speak it a lot and I have only two semesters of French under my belt. And I took those a few years ago. I will have some language training when I get there, but I don't want to look like a complete idiot. I also don't want to be one of "those people" who moves to a foreign country and can't speak the language. I have gotten a couple books from the library and am currently practicing French as often as possible but I think I am terrible. I'm mostly focusing on phrases like, "I don't understand" and "Repeat that please?" and my personal favorite, "Please slow down". When I get bored with practical French I move into nonsensical phrases like, "That cat eats lots of cheese" that will probably convince my new Beninese friends that I am crazy and should be left alone. The future looks bleak. lol I am also going to be fluent in office vocabulary because I spent about two hours at work the other day labeling everything in my office in French with post-it notes. I got tired of playing Solitare on "l'ordinateur" aka my computer. I've been thinking that if I convince myself that all of things in my office just have adorably clever names that sound French that I might learn their names more quickly.

I think I will end all of my blog posts with some mundane information about my life at the time so here it goes:

I'm currently reading: Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger. I've already read it but I found a cool copy at a used book store and I really love the book so I thought I would reread it. Also, Found by Davy Rothbart. It is a collection of random things that people have found that they think are interesting. My favorite so far is a tie between a sign that was found that reads, "WARNING: The iguana is loose on the porch." and a piece of paper that blew into some guys yard that contains the information (in childish writing) on how to get into "The Adventure Club" which must have been made up by some neighborhood kids. One of the rules of the club is that "You have to be nice to squirills". How to get into the club? "You need to know how to climb a fence. Need to like adventure." I'm totally joining.

Currently listening to: Some Eminem songs I stole from my brother-in-law. I can't help but love Marshall.

Funny random story: I got chased down a country road by a bee the other day. I was jogging down the road near my sister's in laws' house and I felt something hitting the back of my leg. I thought I was kicking up some sticks or something but when I looked down there was a bee trying to land on my leg. I made a suprised squeeling noise and started running really fast. When I thought I was safe I slowed down. I was mistaken. Mr. Bee caught up with me. In desperation and fear of being stung I again started running really fast. This "freak out>run real fast>slow down>notice bee>repeat" process happened like 4 more times before I got to the driveway. My head phones fell out of my ears and I didn't even care. I felt like Laura Dern/Ellie in Jurassic Park when she has restored power to the Park and survived the Raptors but has to run that last 20 feet to Sam Neill/Dr. Grant and she looks like an idiot. I made it to the garage and took one look back and that evil bee was lurking near the garage door to taunt me. I still don't know what he wanted or why he was following me but I do know this: I can run faster than a bee can fly for a short and unsustainable amount of time.