The final countdown.

Won’t pretend I haven't had my freakout moments, but the past few days have brought also a sense of calm. I’m ready. It’s long past time to move forward and into this new phase of my life.

My last days in Lincoln have been busy, but with plenty of fun mixed in. A lovely going-away party yesterday eve, with all of my favorite Lincoln ladeez. Homemade sushi night with the adorable Miz Amy. Some relaxing days with the family. A couple of last nights out on the town.

In between all my last-minute adventures, trying to pack myself into two bags and a carryon. I’ve become fairly ruthless about downsizing yet again; a sense of freedom increases with every item I set aside. Can you believe I’ve jettisoned books? It’s true! Don’t worry too much … I’m told Morocco’s Peace Corps office has the best library in the organization.

The Mizzes Amy, Cinnamon and Melissa have been so generous to me this summer … offering up their homes, their vehicles and their attention. Even better, they’e each helped me indulge in last-minute cravings for Mexican food … or at least chips and salsa with margaritas. And of course Miz Krista’s moral support from too many miles away. And everyone else who has given me a boost along this past year’s path … thank you! I’m bringing y’all along on this new journey.


Shwiya b shwiya.

The new blog is up and running at http://shwiya-b-shwiya.blogspot.com (note those hyphens).

I’m not sure whether I’ll keep posting here or not. Maybe when I need to vent in ways I don’t necessarily want to share with everyone who’s in on the new site. But for now, look for me in my new home.

Thank you for reading thus far. Hope you’ll change the channel to stick around for the coming adventure.

T minus 10 days.

I've managed to pack up my few summer clothes and household goods and vacate the summerhouse the Bookstore Maven so graciously lent me. A bit sooner than I'd anticipated, but it's all good. My new digs at Miz Amy's feel like home -- a very good feeling, considering the nomad I have been and am about to become.

So in the next 10 days, all I have to do is:

* Haul more boxes to storage.

* Pack for two years in Morocco, adhering to the two-bag, 107-linear-inch, 80-pound limit.

* Get upstate for a couple of days with my parents.

* Hang out with the niece and nephews.

* Last-minute shopping (long underwear – ugh!; some electronics and toiletries, and absolutely no more books or iTunes)

* Hopefully another night on the town (Miz Amy and I planning to see Chris Duarte at The Zoo on Saturday night ... anyone with us?)

* Visit and photograph all the places and people (and food!) I love here in L-Town.

* Hoping for at least one more long bike ride.

* Get serious about studying the beginner’s Darija (Moroccan Arabic) lessons before takeoff.

* Archive all of my photos, documents, music from my hard drive.

* Create a photo album to show my American life to my new Moroccan host families.

* Buy overseas property insurance; pay off credit cards; order enough prescriptions to cover my first three months of training.

* Launch new Morocco-specific blog.

* Family dinner the day before Labor Day.

* Farewell party with las chicas (muchas gracias to Miz Amy for hosting).

* Hitch a tear-filled ride to the airport the morning of Sept. 5!


Blegh. Feeling more than a bit stressed about all I have to do in such a short time. Mostly because I’m so unsure about what comes next, and I’m pretty much not in control. But I also know all that must be done will get done, and it’ll be over before I know it.


Next up: Staging.

My Peace Corps adventure begins with orientation Sept. 6-7 in Philadelphia. This is known as “staging,” when I’ll gather with the other new trainees, in Youth Development and Small Business Development, get a basic lowdown on Peace Corps policies and fill out paperwork.

From Philly, we take a bus to New York, then board a direct, eight-hour flight to Casablanca. (Hard to believe my world can change so quickly.) Next, another bus to Rabat, for a few days in a hotel while we get inoculations (hoping I’m already good on that front!), begin to learn about our program sectors and maybe even see a bit of the capital city.

From there, the intensive 11-week training program begins. My Youth Development colleagues and I will move to Azrou, a small city 2.5 hours east of Rabat. At our seminar site we’ll be immersed in language lessons, develop skills for our new jobs, and learn about cultural adaptability, safety and staying healthy. I’ll be living with a host family in order to further practice my language and cultural skills.

But we’ll also spend a certain amount of time in “community-based training,” traveling in small groups to villages where we can start practicing our job skills. That means we’ll be practicing our ability to work in established “dar chababs,” or youth centers. It also means a second host family and a lot of back-and-forth travel.

Throughout the three months of training, I’ll face regular evaluations on my language and technical progress. Sometime in October, I’ll learn my permanent site for the next two years, and I’ll be sworn in as a Peace Corps volunteer on Nov. 20 – two days after my 41st birthday.



Currently reading: "Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books," Azar Nafisi

Currently hearing: "What I Be," Michael Franti

Back from the Southwest.

Sorry I haven't been posting. My mini-vacay in Tucson/Mexico went by in a whir; here's a one-photo synopsis:


That photo is staged, btw ... staged like a fourth Iranian nuclear missile. More good pics on Jill's Facebook page; I'm uploading my pitiful shots to Flickr right now. More to come ...

Tucson was a nice diversion before the Big Trip commences. I can really see myself living there someday ... a crunchy-but-kind vibe, good music scene, surrounded by gorgeous mountains. Almost makes me a bit wistful ... I'm at a stage where I spend a certain amount of time wondering whether I'm on the right path. Natural, I suppose, when embarking on a new path, especially when visibility is hampered on the road ahead and one must navigate solely by intuition.

Jill came and met us for a quick trip to Puerto Penasco. Who knew there was a Mexican beach three-plus hours from Tucson? Didn't hit the road until Thursday evening, but the timing made the drive worthwhile. One of the most amazing sunsets I've ever seen -- not for the sun itself, but for the way it backlit the dramatic clouds cocooning craggy mountains, highlighting organ pipe, saguaro, scrubby cholla and other cacti on nature preserves on both sides of the border.

Next day, after lunch and Negra Modelos on the pier, then bartering for boogie boards in the tourist district, we headed back to the hotel and its neighboring private beach. I'd never been bodysurfing before, and despite the board rash that now covers most of my right thigh, it was totally worth it. The perfect beach afternoon/evening. Cocktails, surf, friends; rinse and repeat.


Back in Tucson, Miz K threw a fantastic birthday bash for herself, complete with live music and the best potluck I've ever attended. Her new friends can throw down the snark with the best of them, and her new beau is an absolute delight.

Now that I'm back in Lincoln I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed. Time to pack up the remains of my life here and say goodbye to everyone I love. The two-week countdown begins tomorrow.

Mexico road trip by the numbers:

Badass bitches in Jillie's Subaru: 3

Cameras: 4

Variety of animal crossing signs on reservation highway from Tucson to Mexico: 9 (ram, cattle, human, prairie dog, deer, antelope, coyote, roadrunner, quail

Actual animal sightings: 1 coyote; many stray dogs; innumerable toads

Skipping CDs mended by a single lick of Miz J's saliva: 1

Boogie boards: 3

Collective post-bodysurfing board rashes: 4 (at least)

Sunglasses lost to Sea of Cortez: 2

Toe rings lost: 1

Jellyfish sightings: 1

Jellyfish stings: 0

Chuck Norris joke books: 1*

*Best Chuck Norris joke: When Chuck Norris has sex he is always on top ... because Chuck Norris never fucks up.

Giant "white pride" tattoos on pretty American boy trying to darken his skin on a Mexican beach: 1 (irony, anyone?)

Successful attempts to talk Mexican police out of traffic ticket without a bribe: 1

Vendors eager to sell me a glass pipe: 5 (only me, btw, not the Mizzes K & J. Por que?)

Peace on a chain.

The Divine Miz Emily, local purveyor of fine imports and my personal guruess, gave me this little pendant that means so much to me at this stage in my life. The front says “Peace” in Arabic; the back has a spiral indentation. Could it be more appropriate for me?


Desert-bound.

Gawd, am I ready to get out of this town.

Luckily, I leave manana en la manana!

This isn't the big goodbye ... just the big pre-goodbye adventure. Goin' down Tucson way to visit Miz K. She, Miz J and I are drivin' down to Mexico for a couple days on the beach at Puerto Penasco. Then a big birthday bash for the K-ladee. Some hiking, I hope. Can't wait to get down there.

Lincoln's just irritating me these days. Know I'll miss it somethin' awful when I'm gone, but lately I've been revisiting old behaviors/emotions/ghosts, and not in a terribly healthy way. Maybe it's all part of the process of moving on? Dunno.


Quote of the day:

Overheard at Jones Coffee:

“But he’s already married. He can’t get married again – that’s bigotry!”

On the Trigger.

Last night was such fun. Korb and I went to see Triggertown at Box Awesome. My darling friend Joellen's darling daughter Terry is the fiddler. And despite having seen them several times now, I only just made the connection between Brad the awesome Community CROPS guy and Brad the badass washtub bass player. They make bluegrass cool. They'll be at the Zoo with the Bellflowers on Aug. 21. Go see 'em ... and buy me a beer!

(photo by proud mama Joellen)


Down on the farm.

Worked my ass off yesterday (when stupid Blogger wouldn't accept my post), volunteering for Community CROPS. No, wait, my ass is still there ... but I did work the skin off my fingers in several places. And it felt great.

Killing myself that I didn't bring my camera. This was my first visit to the farm out west of town. What a cool setup!

For some serendipitous reason, they were awash in volunteers -- five of us. We did a lot of weeding (a LOT of weeding, my favorite activity) ... fixed some drip lines ... put up a snow fence for cucumbers to climb up ... planted a new crop of carrots ... and cleaned up a bunch of miscellaneous junk. I helped an Iraqi newcomer harvest cucumbers and yellow squash. He couldn't speak English, but he gave me an Armenian cucumber -- yellow-green, soft and sweet. No conversation, but we each gnawed on a cucumber, smiling at each other, admiring his rows of bounty. Came home with two yellow squash and a handful of beets. Should be home roasting veggies right now.


Getting closer to Peace (Corps)

Finally got information on my Peace Corps staging, the two-day orientation session before we leave the country. Sept. 6-7 in Philadelphia. I leave Lincoln at 10:55 a.m. on Sept. 5. Seems it's really happening.

We'll be arriving in Morocco just a few days after the beginning of Ramadan. Won't be expected to fast, although it may be difficult to find food during the day. I might give it a try, just to better understand people's sensibilities during this time.

I did a practice pack earlier this week. It's not going to be nearly as difficult as I'd thought to meet the luggage size/weight requirements (two checked bags for a combined total of 107 linear inches and 70 pounds). I still have to cut back some of the toiletries that take up too much space and weight.

It's so funny ...much of the reason I was attracted to Peace Corps was the idea of learning to live with less -- a lot less. To better understand how most of the world lives. But when it comes down to it, I'm having a hard time giving up some silly luxuries: "But I need my facial exfoliant!" The packing guidelines will make some of the decisions for me. And, as my summer is already proving to me, the less I learn to live with, the easier it becomes.

The gang.

Lot of family time this weekend. On Saturday, we all went to Emma's recital for strings day camp. After only five days on the half-bass, she can bow and pick like a pro. Well, a half-pro, at least. Seriously, it was impressive.

On Sunday, I drove with her mom to drop Emma off for her second year at Camp Kitaki. Mama was emotional. Emma was not (see above).

Then we careened back to Lincoln to watch Chip's last t-ball game. Nothing better than sitting in the late-afternoon, 102-degree sun, watching little boys who don't quite get the concept of being tagged out, or of throwing to any base but first.

Afterward, we got ice cream. Ryan goes for the full-immersion style of indulgence.


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Speaking of families, I'm reading the most interesting book. It's an oral history of multiple generations of a rural Moroccan family, told from two viewpoints -- that of a strongly religious Muslim man with extremely traditional views, and that of his cousin, a U.S. immigrant with a modern viewpoint, especially on the role of women in her country and her family.

The book is a quarter-century old (the local libraries have very little available on recent Moroccan history), but I imagine it's still quite useful and reflective of rural traditions and beliefs. The extent of the misogeny shouldn't shock me, I suppose, but it does. (So does the anti-Jewish and anti-"Christian" -- catchall for "western -- sentiment.)

Women are expected not to leave the home -- unless they are doing the marketing or are somehow ekeing out a living when their husbands will not; yet even for that -- for selling in a public marketplace, or working in a sweatshop for pennies, under a male boss -- they are criticized, often even ostracized, within their family and their village. Certainly a woman is never, ever, out in the evening unless she's a prostitute. Women measure their offspring with two numbers -- the number they've born, and the number (usually around half, but still easily six or more) that have survived past infancy. And for their decades of hard work to take care of their family, they're criticized for their wrinkles and paunch, referred to as "One whose face looks like a mule," etc.

I've been wondering how I'll handle the harassment that I'm assured I'll encounter in Morocco. Western-looking women have it worst, but it is common, apparently, for all women to be harassed on a daily, constant basis. Stares, tongue-clicking and muttering when walking by are the best of it; at worst, I can count on being groped (especially in crowded, anonymous places) and even having my hair stroked and pulled (blonde tresses being such an anomoly in rural areas).

My dear friend Meleeska and I have a new tradition of evening walks, after the worst heat of the day, up around the state Capitol. Walking through my new temporary 'hood, just south of downtown, is the only place in Lincoln where I've encountered anything like the harassment that is commonplace whenever I travel. Can't go a block, some days, without a whistle or catcall. This is not a compliment, for those of you who may be thinking it so. It's a misplaced expression of power by those who generally feel powerless. It's uncomfortable to walk on by without "educating" the offender (also known as giving a piece of my mind), but to engage is only to prolong.

Like much else I've been encountering this summer -- the oppressive heat, the bouts of loneliness, the general instability/uncertainty -- I can only take the optimistic view that this is very good training for what lies ahead. As one current volunteer in Morocco, pointed out, such experiences will give me perspective on and strong solidarity with the women I hope to serve.

Haven't heard about travel plans yet, but I expect to be leaving Lincoln a month from today or tomorrow!

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Quote of the day: "When a woman has had a hard life it is said that she has been cursed by her parents or her husband because of some evil that she has done. When a man has had a hard life, it is said that he is unlucky."

-- Fatima Zohra, "The House of Si Abd Allah: The Oral History of a Moroccan Family

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Currently listening to: "Meet Podington Bear"; Coffee Break French.

I’d already been planning to mention Tuesday’s “Democracy Now!” piece on the sorry state of the newspaper industry … widespread layoffs, drastic cuts in coverage and newshole, plunging stock prices with Wall Street devaluing the entire industry. Profit margins continue to be perfectly respectable, but because they aren’t as obscene as they had been in the past, newspapers are considered a sinking ship.

Most of this national trend is reflected in the sad state of the local newspaper, but so far my former employer had managed to dodge the layoff question.

Until Wednesday, when it laid off 16 employees – including eight in the newsroom. A great deal of knowledge, talent and skill is being given up in the name of profits. And the way in which it was handled was tacky, as is typical for that operation. Meanwhile, excellent workers left behind in a newsroom where morale is already low are made paranoid, for this likely is just the beginning.

Devaluing everything they espouse to promote: Attention to “local-local” coverage that can’t be found anywhere else; attention to detail in the eyes of that dying breed, the copy editor. Combined with drastic cuts earlier this summer in space for nation/world and local news, it almost seems as if the LJS is trying to put itself out of business.

Before the downward spiral started a little over a year ago, the stock price for Lee Enterprises, which owns the local “product” (they don’t like to refer to “news” nowadays, which should tell you something) routinely traded in the $30-$35 range and sometimes went as high as $40. As of this morning, Lee stock was trading at $3.20 (up from $2.98 a few days ago). One Wall Street blog puts 1 in 8 odds on Lee declaring bankruptcy by year's end.

Industrywide, the crisis is obvious terms of both international news – nearly all of the major players have slashed their foreign correspondent staffs, and the Boston Globe shut its international division down entirely – and in local news, which can be devastating to towns in which the local newspaper is the sole source of news that is more than an official press release.

Journalism once was considered the Fourth Estate, a nongovernmental check on the executive, legislative and judicial branches, without which a healthy democracy could not function. That’s not a view shared by the average American these days. But when there are no more journalists looking for the story behind the sound bite, we’ll all suffer the consequences.

And when there are no legitimate investigative news outlets left operating, who will the blogosphere plagiarize from?

Here are a couple of really good recent pieces on the woes of the newspaper industry:

At Truthdig: “Bad Days for Newsrooms -- and Democracy”

From Eric Alterman at The Nation: "I Read the News Today ... Oh Boy"

Wish I could stand in solidarity with my colleagues who haven’t yet given up hope, but the truth is I’m glad I jumped ship. I’m embarrassed to be associated with the current state of mainstream journalism, locally and nationally.

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Currently reading: "This Land Is Their Land: Reports from a Divided Nation" by Barbara Ehrenreich

Currently hearing: "Allegria," The Gipsy Kings

Don't let these men make your birth-control decisions for you!

Watch McCain squirm over a very basic question on women’s reproductive health rights:

McCain out of touch on birth control

Yeah, it’s kind of funny that he feels ill-equipped to comment on whether it’s right that insurance companies cover Viagra for men but not birth control for women. (Hmm, hitting too close to home there, John-Boy?)

But the reality is less amusing. In the Senate, McCain twice has voted against requiring insurance companies to cover birth control (a move that would not only improve women’s health but would benefit insurance companies as well, as it would help protect against future outlays).

And, meanwhile, he’s still riding out the storm over his old joke about women enjoying rape.

McCain Ape Rape Joke Recalled By Sources

Lovely. Yes, this is exactly who I want setting the tone for our country. Oh, and he’s for the Hundred Years’ War in Iraq, too!

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From a feminist blog I've recently discovered and like, here's some more scary news on politics and women's health:

HHS Proposal Undercuts State Birth Control Laws

The Bush administration is trying to push through a new regulation allowing any health-care agency that receives federal funds to refuse to assist women with their contraception needs. Most agencies receive some type of federal money, btw.

Think of what that would mean -- for the women you know -- and, oh yeah, men, too, 'cause from what I understand it takes one of each to make a baby. Think of what it would mean for your own already rising health-care costs -- contraception is a lot cheaper than covering the health costs of pregnancy and child-raising. Think of what it would mean when the needs and values of the majority are overruled by a handful of right-wing extremists.

Intolerance unveiled.

Did you read about the Moroccan-born woman who was denied French citizenship because she chooses to veil her face?

Read it here: A veil closes France's door to citizenship

The idea of the veil stirs mixed emotions in me, of course. I detest the idea of a woman believing it is necessary to hide herself. And I try hard to believe that men are trustworthy enough creatures that we needn’t worry about fanning the flames of their lust as we simply go about our daily lives.

I don’t like the concept of the veil.

Yet it is not for a free, democratic society to tell a woman she CANNOT wear the veil. Certainly it can decree that no one else can force a woman under the veil. Certainly it may advocate the tossing aside of the veil along with other misogynistic concepts. But in telling this woman she cannot exercise her free will, France aligns itself with the very same strictures it seeks to outlaw.



Below the surface.

I’d not heard of Kay Ryan before she was named poet laureate last week. In browsing through some of her work, I felt this one particularly speaking to me:

Surfaces
By Kay Ryan

Surfaces serve
their own purposes,
strive to remain
constant (all lives
want that). There is
a skin, not just on
peaches but on oceans
(note the telltale
slough of foam on beaches).
Sometimes it’s loose,
as in the case
of cats: you feel how a
second life slides
under it. Sometimes it
fits. Take glass.
Sometimes it outlasts
its underside. Take reefs.

The private lives of surfaces
are innocent, not devious.
Take the one-dimensional
belief of enamel in itself,
the furious autonomy
of luster (crush a pearl —
it’s powder), the whole
curious seamlessness
of how we’re each surrounded
and what it doesn’t teach.


Mixing it up.

In one of the many time-sucking, space-filling, procrastination-aiding tasks I have set myself this summer, thus successfully avoiding such worthier pursuits as learning the language I’ll need for the next two years or losing 20 pounds through daily 40-mile bicycle rides, I’ve been entertaining myself with the creation of new mix lists. To wit:

Waiting for Peace (Corps): Becki’s Summer ’08 mix
(tunes I’m listening to lately – some new, some old, some relevant, some not)

Wake Up / The Arcade Fire
Nothing'severgonnastandinmyway (Again) / Wilco
Play / Kate Nash
In Step / Girl Talk
I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You / Black Kids
When the Day Met the Night / Panic! At the Disco
Candy / The Self-Righteous Brothers
I Like It, I Love It / Lyrics Born
Ooh La La / Goldfrapp
L3t Teh Be34t C0ns013 Yov (Pewep Merix) / Tilly & The Wall
It's the Beat / Simian Mobile Disco
Bust a Move / Young MC
Think Afrika / Seun Kuti
The Electric Version / The New Pornographers
Natural's Not In It / Gang of Four
Dissolved Girl / Massive Attack
Ramblin' (Wo)man / Cat Power
Excursions / A Tribe Called Quest
Adventure / Be Your Own Pet
say i am / Tom Tom Club
I'm The Toughest Girl Alive / Candye Kane
The Future Freaks Me Out / Motion City Soundtrack

Noisy Summer mix
(fairly obvious, I think)

Noisy Summer / Raveonettes
sunshine and ecstasy / Tom Tom Club
Summer Daze / Luscious Jackson
Another Fine Day / Golden Smog
The Summer / Yo La Tengo
Blister in the Sun / Violent Femmes
Sunshine / The Meat Purveyors
Broken A/C Blues / Duane Jarvis
Ice Cream Cone / The Tijuana Gigolos
Machines of Summer / Drive-By Honky
Sun In My Mouth / Björk
Summer In The City / Regina Spektor
Asleep on a Sunbeam / Belle & Sebastian
Beneath The Blue Sky / The Go-Go's
Summer Teeth / Wilco
Sunshine / Floetry
Sunday Sun / Cinematics
Looking at the Sun / Matthew Sweet
It's Summertime / The Flaming Lips
Red Sun / Neil Young
Sunset / Kate Bush
Starlit / Erin McKeown

Under the Covers
(cover tunes you might not have expected)

Smells Like Teen Spirit / Tori Amos
Oops! ... I Did It Again / Richard Thompson
Yo vivire (I Will Survive) / Celia Cruz
Love Will Tear Us Apart / Nouvelle Vague
Stand by Your Man / Lyle Lovett
She's a Lady / The Self-Righteous Brothers
(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction / Cat Power
Every Rose Has Its Thorn / Rex Hobart & the Misery Boys
Shine / Dolly Parton
Joy / Bettye LaVette
Comfortably Numb / Dar Williams w/Ani DiFranco
Rebel Rebel / Seu Jorge
Wooly Bully / Billy Bacon And The Forbidden Pigs
The Hokey Pokey / Brave Combo
Breathless / X
Good Lovin' / Grateful Dead
Ain't That Peculiar / Chocolate Genius
Let's Get It On / Jack Black
Gloria / Patti Smith
Baba O'Riley / The Waco Brothers


Quote of the day:

"I arise in the morning torn between the desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day." — E. B. White

Music, man.

Amy and I indulged in a bit of cultural whiplash on Saturday evening. First, we took her young’uns to “The Music Man” at Pinewood Bowl. I’m not a fan of the theater … especially local productions … most especially musicals … and “The Music Man” is right at the bottom of the genre, as far as I’m concerned.

But we had such a great time. In my 20 years in Lincoln, I’ve never done the Pinewood Bowl thing, so it was nice to cross that off my life list before I leave. It’s a gorgeous setting, everyone’s friendly and laid-back, and the company couldn’t be beat.

We ducked out as the actors were taking their bows, rushed the kids off to a sleepover, and Amy and I managed to get down to the Zoo Bar’s outdoor anniversary block party in time to hear half a dozen of the Self-Righteous Brothers’ greatest hits. They still put on a kick-ass show … their classic cover of “She’s a Lady,” the originals “Candy” and “Have Fun With Your Penis,” and a thumping version of “Billie Jean.” I want Mr. Righteous and Sonny Righteous to teach me how to dance. I want the band to get back together.



Books, not bombs.

Nicholas Kristof’s oped column Sunday referenced Greg Mortenson, subject of the book I just finished (see my Goodreads review), “Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Fight Terrorism and Build Nations ... One School at a Time.” It’s a pretty startling juxtaposition: Bush promises $10 billion (so far) to Pakistan so its military will stay friends with our military, so we can keep bombing the hell out of families, schools and communities in the name of “fighting terror.” Mortenson hasn’t a fraction of the military complex budget, yet he’s well on his way to transforming society in rural Pakistan by building schools so everyone can get an education and not feel the need to resort to terror.

Who would you rather have in charge?


He's not really a girl, and he doesn't really talk. Well, he kind of raps.

My new summer soundtrack is “Feed the Animals” by Girl Talk, aka Gregg Gillis. He’s like the William Rice Burroughs of mixmasters, pouring out a plethora of pop favorites from the ‘60s through the aughts, cutting them up and mashing them back together into something brilliant. If you think Salt N’ Pepa, Deee-Lite, the Traveling Wilburys, Nirvana, Earth Wind and Fire and the Beach Boys (and more) can’t be combined into a brilliantly danceable new single, then you haven’t heard Girl Talk.

Quote of the week:

"Goodbye from the world's biggest polluter!"
-- "President" George Bush on leaving the G8 summit where next to no agreement was reached on the need to adapt to the climate change crisis.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/2277298/President-George-Bush-'Goodbye-from-the-world's-biggest-polluter'.html#continue

Who, me, worry?

The Peace Corps excitement never ends!

I got another (automated) email this morning alerting me to a change in my application status. Try as I might when I accessed my account online, I could not find anything that change. Still shows me as an invitee to Morocco, with no holds on my ability to serve.

Still, at this point I'm pretty paranoid, so I contacted just about everyone I could find at headquarters on a Friday afternoon. My country officer and medical/dental/legal contacts all said I look fine. So it must have been a glitch.

Good to know, however, that my country officer is so prompt and helpful, as were the other staffers. Best of all, I seem to have a new and much more helpful contact in the medical office, which is a great relief.

Another Peace Corps opportunity.

In related news, I may have a chance to write for the PC web site while I'm in Morocco. I've been corresponding with a returned Morocco volunteer who, like me, joined PC after two decades in the journalism business. Now he's in the communications department at PC headquarters.

Got an email from him the other day. The PR staff is looking for someone who could write regularly for the web site, from training through the two years of service. Mark said he immediately thought of me, and could he forward my info to PR?

Hellyeah, I told him. What a cool possibility.

Fun fact of the day:

While Morocco's move toward independence from France actually began earlier, the country celebrates its Independence Day on Nov. 18, commemorating King Mohammed V's return from exile in 1955.

And we all know what critical world event happened on Nov. 18 a mere 12 years later ...

Quote of the day:

“He who knows only his own country is like a man who reads but the first chapter of a book.”
– St. Augustine

Currently reading:

"Days: A Tangier Diary" by Paul Bowles

"This Land is Their Land: Reports from a Divided Nation" by Barbara Ehrenreich (just offered to write a review on this for that newspaper I no longer wish to associate with. Hm.)

Break down bombs, don't build 'em.

The Senate Appropriations Committee is slated to vote this week on more funds for the Reliable Replacement Warhead (RRW) program. The U.S. should be leading the charge in destroying existing nuclear weapons, not making more of them.

Nebraska Sen. Ben Nelson is on the committee. Please take two minutes to contact Nelson's office and encourage him to vote against the funding.

The Nebraskans for Peace web site has good background info for talking points in your letter/phone call to Nelson.

Send your feedback to Nelson's office by calling (202) 224-6551 or (402) 391-3411 and/or emailing senator@bennelson.senate.gov.

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Two months from today (inshallah), I'll be getting on a Morocco-bound plane with my fellow Peace Corps trainees. Still doesn't feel real, and I suppose that until I get on that plane, it won't. Too afraid of having the (Berber?) rug pulled out from under me again.

The Darija (Moroccan Arabic) lessons have me thoroughly intimidated. I just keep looking and listening, in hopes that eventually the strange shapes and sounds will begin to make sense.

More inspiring is the book I'm currently reading, "Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Fight Terrorism and Build Nations ... One School at a Time." While the narrative journalism style (by a ghostwriter) is more than a bit overwrought, the idea of a slacker creating first a single school in remote Pakistan, and then an entire institute devoted to creating educational opportunities in areas where none have existed ... with a special focus on making sure girls have equal access to schooling ... well, it's providing me with plenty of ideas for projects and collaborations.

I've been waffling lately about my mission in Morocco. Not really a "developing country anymore, is it? And the outline for my program is so vague as to sound as if I won't really be "doing" anything. (Anything except teaching English, that is, and I further have to wonder how English is going to help the average underpriviliged Moroccan youth.)

But if so many rural people are living in poverty, and especially if I have a chance to help improve the futures of girls and women in a society that currently devalues them, then I have to believe it's a worthwhile mission.

Meanwhile, with slightly more disposable income than I'd anticipated for my summer sans employment, I just booked one last flight to Tucson, Aug. 12-19. Need to get my desert survival skills up to snuff, dontcha know. We hope to make a side trip down Mexico way in celebration of Miz K's birthday.

How fortunate I am to be living this life.

------------

Quote of the day:

There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled.
You feel it, don't you?
-- Rumi

"The majority of the world's farmers are women."

Betcha never thought of that, didja?

Most governments and individuals don't, either. In much of the world, women can't even own land -- but they're expected to do the sowing and the reaping, along with everything in between.
These small-scale experts, feeding their local communities, are the model the rest of the world should be following, not the other way 'round. But if local and global policies don't combine forces to help these women stay in business, we're headed for famine on a large scale.

Check out this article from the Progressive:

Solving the global food crisis starts with women’s rights

The current food crisis is on the agenda as the G8 summit begins Monday. Will your local news media, via mainstream media wire services, cover the summit from a human/human rights perspective or from a corporate one?

Mix it up on the Fourth: A DIY list.

Seems I don't actually make mix tapes anymore, but I do still like to think them up. Here's my suggestions for marking this holiday, which I call ...

Independence ... For Whom?

Songs of Freedom / Bob Marley
Red White and Blue Dream / Kimya Dawson
Freedom Rock / Frank Black
Rocket from a Bottle / XTC
Reject All American / Bikini Kill
Bomb the World / Michael Franti
Fireworks / Animal Collective
Bad Politics / Yo La Tengo
The Government Totally Sucks / Tenacious D
Red Eyed and Blue / Wilco
Revolution / Bob Marley
Peace In Our Time / Ray Davies
I’m Free Now / Morphine

------------

Seems I'd forgotten one of the biggest perks of no longer being employed by the MSM (mainstream media) industrial complex: I'm free to publicly say whatever I like about whatever I don't like.

To that end, be careful out there this Fourth -- don't step in the muck being tossed around by the so-called Nebraska Civil Rights Initiative, as they make a last-ditch effort to get a ban on affirmative action on the November ballot. Nebraskans United's web site has information on how to report unruly petition circulators, as well as a link to remove your name if you unwittingly signed the petition, believing it was actually about equal rights.

Earlier this week, I went to a discussion at the Coffee House led by the publisher of one of my favorite 'zines: Bitch. She's on a driving tour across the Midwest, collecting input from readers. It was so inspiring to hear a group of mostly just-post-college-age women wax enthusiastic on the "F" word (feminism, that is) and what we could and should be doing in our communities. A couple of older women as well, including the proud grandma of one cool young dyke who is successfully introducing diversity education to the insurance giant where she works. And a nun from an apparently extremely strict sect (here in Lincoln, she's an order of one) who did her best to proselytize, and I was so proud to see the rest of the group turn not to hatred and division but to an attempt at inclusion.

My new living room.

Settling into my new temporary home and a slower pace of life. My favorite feature at the Bookstore Maven's former abode is the front porch. Deep, secluded and shaded, with a romantic swing and a separate seating area, fringed by twisting honeysuckle vines and protective conifers. I take most of my meals out here and am re-learning my childhood habit of whiling away entire hours immersed in other lives, entered via a stack of library books.

My other living room is the coffeehouse of the day, so I can indulge, briefly, my Internet obsessions. I try to mix the location up a bit from day to day, so I don't become "that weird lady who's always at Xxxx." But with Meadowlark and Jones each just a few blocks away, I usually end up at one of those locales. So maybe I'll become "that lady" yet. Everyone needs a goal.

Funny how uncomfortable it's been, at first, to not really have anything "to do." Plenty to do, actually -- just no immediate daily obligations, unstructured by the lack of a day job. (Don't worry too much -- I do seem to be settling into it.)

Actually, the whole situation is more than a little reminiscent of my summer in Oaxaca. Walking (or, here, biking) as my main mode of transportation brings me more in tune with my surroundings; I spend a good deal of time outside, reading or writing in my journal; I have plenty of time for friends and for contemplation of What Comes Next.

(Unfortunately, the similarities to Oaxaca do not extend to an inability to comprehend the language floating all around me, making it more difficult to ignore the whiny children and shouted conversations that seem to have become accepted aspects of coffeehouse culture. )


Foot power as my mode of transportation: Yes, the Saturn is gone; my lease was up at the end of June. I briefly thought about asking whether I could rent it for just a couple more months. But then I thought, um, Why? Why spend all more money I don't have, when everything I really need is really quite accessible from where I am? Bonuses: I can indulge the smug attitude of no longer being part of the carbon footprint problem, and my thighs will be rock hard by the time I leave for Morocco! (Hey, a girl can dream ... )


Been spending a lot of time lately thinking about What I Really Need. Materially, that is. I was so proud of myself for downsizing as I moved out of The Bungalow Formerly Known as Lola. (Aside: What's my deal today with Capitalizing Everything?) I got rid of most of my furniture and sent boxloads off to Goodwill. Yet I was still only barely able to squeeze the material manifestations of my former life into a spare bedroom larger than the average storage locker. What the above photo fails to show is the two rows of boxes, floor to ceiling, behind the miscellaneous detritus. Books, mostly. Books I've either already read or likely never will. To keep them has far more to do with vanity and emotional attachment than with actual need. Maybe that's true of the rest as well?

Then, moving into my temporary digs, thinking I'd really pared down to the nitty gritty -- only the things I'd really need for the next two months. Even so, that came down to about a dozen boxes and a couple of suitcases. A dozen boxes for two months? Really? Well, no -- not really. Most of it is already stowed in a back closet. Much of the rest is dribs and drabs of toiletries that don't really do anything. And then there's the dishes and glassware I inexplicably keep breaking -- that'll really cut back on the need to repack.

Maybe it's all practice for the next step: two bags for the next two years in Morocco. Even then, from what I hear via former Peace Corps vols, much of what you bring ends up never leaving the suitcase.

Or maybe it's all practice for moving on in life ... paring down, offloading the no longer necessary in favor of what's really important. A life well-lived needn't be proved by overaccumulation.

A friend yesterday was telling about visiting an antiques store overstuffed with ... stuff. Not antiques, just stuff. Old shot glasses, action figures, Wheaties boxes.

"What do you collect?" the woman behind the counter asked. Shocked she was to find out my dear friend doesn't have rows of bobbleheads or spoons or commemorative plates holding up the

"Memories," I told my friend. "Next time, say you collect memories."

Quote of the day:

“The curse of the human race is not that we are so different from one another, but that we are so alike.” – Salman Rushdie, “The Enchantress of Florence”

A couple of days away.

Happy solstice, all!

I'm writing this from lovely Brownville, Nebraska, in the very southeast corner of the state -- I can see the bridge over the Missouri River from where I sit. Just closing up a couple of days helping the Bookstore Maven at her satellite office. I'm not sure I was a very good sales surrogate -- three books in two days (though now that I'm ready to close up and hit the road, the shop is suddenly full for the first time).

But I've had a lovely, relaxing two days. I can see why Miz C loves it here. No cell reception, no errands to run ... nothing to do, really. Which suits me just fine after nearly a week of schlepping boxes one place or another.

After work last evening, I walked the little trail behind Brownville's historic homes. Peaceful.


But now I'm ready for civilization again. Stop in Auburn for a Diet Coke, blast some New Pornographers on the drive home, pick up my sis-in-law and finally go see the "Sex in the City" movie. I've heard it's really, really bad, but I don't care. I'm just in it for the fashion porn.

Leaving Lola.

Tomorrow I sign away my little bungalow. And just when all my little planting projects are finally coming to fruition! Those roses on the drainpipe are blooming for the first time in the three years I've lived here.

Lola has been a dear friend to me. I'll miss her ... but I'm ready to move on.

What I'll miss:

My backyard oasis ... sipping High Life on the patio, surveying my domain of salvia and penstemon, hostas and honeysuckle, monitoring the comings and goings of bunnies and crows, polka numbers seeping up from the Antelope Park bandshell, alone with my laptop or laughing with good friends.

Mowing the lawn.

Showering. (New digs are lovely and serendipitous but set up for baths only.)

On-call Internet.

My sunny yellow walls.

Getting my hands in the dirt ... weeding or finding space for just one more plant.

Lazy Saturday afternoons on the front porch, rocking on the swing while Miz Amy smokes on the steps.

Being surrounded by books I love.

The backyard parties -- pinatas, broken hoes and all.

What I won't miss:

The constant screech and whine of the Baptist brats next door.

Mowing the lawn.

The monthly mortgage.

The sad little things that needed attention I couldn't afford to give -- leaky faucets, peeling paint,

Where I'm headed:

I'm blessed to have a lovely new home to settle into, even if temporarily. Thanks to the Subversive Bookstore Maven!

Come tomorrow, no more Internet at home*. Come June 29, no more car. But I have everything I need: a badass bike and two strong legs to power it; an expansive front porch from which to survey a whole new neighborhood; a box of books, and another of wine; a portable iPod sound system; big ideas and dear friends to keep me company over the next two months.

*Read: No more obsessive emailing or blog/Facebook/MySpace posting! So don't panic if you no longer hear from me 1,000 times a day ... getting online will mean hauling ass to a coffee shop or my brother's house. Or figuring out how to use a phone card. If anyone can enlighten me on that, let me know ...)

Quote of the day:

"Not knowing how near the truth is, we seek it far away." – Hakuin

(from a returned Peace Corps volunteer ... interesting, no?)

It's in the mail.

The formal invitation finally arrived yesterday. Morocco: Yes! Youth development: Yes! Leaving in September: Yes, indeed! Now all I have to do is call Monday to enthusiastically accept.

I'd been thinking to get a part-time job this summer, mostly to fill time but also for walking-around money.

But I don't really see how I can fit one in, what with all I hope to accomplish in the next two months before I leave ...

My summer to-do list:

Brush up on my high school/college French.

Start learning Darija (Moroccan Arabic).

Read everything I can get my hands on about Morocco.

Download teaching methods and study tips on youth development.

Take long daily bike rides on the MoPac.

Improve my yoga skills. (So I can practice in Morocco ... ad possibly even teach others?)

Study transcendental meditation. (Don't laugh, there's a local instructor, and I mean to get in touch with him!)

Take up belly dancing? (You know, when in Morocco ... )

Stop telling myself I can't/don't cook, and practice a few dishes I can make with ingredients available from your typical souk.

Volunteer with Community CROPS ...

... and with Nebraska AIDS Project ...

... and with Lincoln Literacy Council ...

Spend more time with family.

Spend more time with friends.

Relax! (It may be my last chance for a couple of years)

This list is nearly as ridiculous as my Peace Corps packing list! But you can see why I can't find time to be employed ...

Let's party!

Looking forward to seeing many of you at the pah-tay tonight!

Besides the luxury of Miz K's presence, we just found a new reason to celebrate.

My placement officer called today. She's found me a new placement, and the invitation should arrive within a couple of weeks.

North Africa (I'm pretty sure it's Morroco). Youth development -- teaching English, healthy lifestyles and civic development. Leave Sept. 6.

Not at all the region or the work I'd envisioned when I first started this whole process. But I can see so many opportunities. I'm possibly even more excited than I was when I got the Tanzania invite!

Life works out. Thank you all for riding along on my emotional roller coaster.

Now I can enjoy a summer of soaking up all my lovely Lincoln peeps, researching my new home, maybe getting a head start on learning some Arabic. And maybe work in another trip to Tucson!

For those of you being held hostage tonight -- surely that's the only excuse for missing the party! -- don't forget Billy Bacon and the Forbidden Pigs at the Zoo on Friday night. It'll be Miz K's last night in town. Let's send her home with una mas cerveza!

Off the beaten path.

After a much-needed R&R in Tucson, it feels great to be back home at la casa, sitting on the patio with Miz K, both of us playing on our laptops and sipping on High Lifes. (High Lives?)

Tucson is a fabulous town -- hip and quirky, dry and hot, with fantastic hiking, food and people-watching. It was so lovely to see the culmination of Miz K's first year of work with Voices Inc. Her students, photography novices all, produced some amazing work, which is testament to both their own perseverance and their instructor's mad skills.

Went for two short but great hikes -- Gates Pass to the west, at sunset, and Catalina State Park to the north. A town surrounded by mountains and home to one of my BFFs ... why am I so eager to move overseas when I could just move down to the desert?


The Tucson trip was capped by a perfectly lovely evening listening to samba music at The Hut with K and her friends Sean and Monica. The musicians were mostly a bunch of gray-haired white men, flanked by a more traditionally rasta-styled drummer and a beautiful flutist of indeterminate heritage. Despite their anglo looks, the band was fantastic. Everyone -- all ages, all body types, all socioeconomic levels -- grooving together. We danced and danced and then went to The Grill for bad tater tots and sophomoric, giggly humor. Such a fun night.

Then we hit the road. First to Phoenix to see the Fabulous! Miz J and Mr M, as well as K's adorable extended family, then 2o+ hours to Lincoln. The drive from Phoenix through New Mexico is just phenomenal.


We saw many amazing sights along the way. Most defy description.


Miz K drove the whole way, by choice. She's quite the multitasker.


Now we're back, as if things had never left off last August. Amy's here with a pack of smokes and a bottle of Piesporter. William's on his way over. All is right with the world.

So, let's hope bad news does NOT come in twos.

I was overly optimistic yesterday.

(Me? Shocking, I know.)

Y'all must be tired of me jerking you up and down in tandem with my emotions and my subsequent jerking-around by PC.

So no more boring details, especially for the gyno-squeamish.

Just this:

I no longer medically qualify for the Tanzania program.

I'll let you know what comes next as soon as I have a clearer idea of what it is. I'll land on my feet, even if I skin my knees first.

I am so blessed to have many loving family and friends to have my back, and even my virtual online friends who I've never met in person but have been so supportive and encouraging. My mantra is the thanks I give daily for you all. Namaste.

Good news comes in twos.

Good news, Part 1.

Accepted an offer on the house yesterday. It's pretty good. And such a relief to have that taken care of before I leave.

My Lola's been such a good little house. I'll miss her. But she's helping me get where I'm going next.

Good news, Part 2.

The colposcopy report came back today. NO dysplasia. NOTHING to keep me out of PC. Haven't gotten confirmation yet from the PC nurse that my medical hold has been cleared, but absolutely no reason to expect otherwise.

I feel a little foolish, now, for being so anxious this past week. But really, when one thin line can mean all the difference in what happens next in life, it's hard not to obsess over that line.

Y'all helped keep me sane. Thank you.


Currently reading:

"The Memory of Running" by Ron McLarty

Who lent me this? I was sure it was William (which made such perfect sense, and you should read it Wm!). If it was you, let me know so I can return it. It's been a lifesaver -- the only way I could get out of my head the past few days. Riveting story, timely message. Highly recommended.

Thanks, y'all!

Everyone's been so sweet and supportive. I can't thank you enough. 

Right now, PC won't tell me a thing until I get the colposcopy report back. Sure seems like it'll be cutting it close. But, much of this is out of my hands. 

I have Plans B, C and D in the works already. It may mean spending yet more money, but some type of international work experience is in my near future. 

Have a couple coming back for a second look at the house tomorrow, too. 

Cross yer fingers, y'all ... 

Worse than I thought.

I had not noticed a very minor change in diagnosis in this latest pap. If yesterday's biopsy confirms that diagnosis, there is still no cause for medical concern -- it is still a condition that any doctor in the real world would simply monitor, not treat. 

However, the change puts me in the PC category of deferral rather than clearance. I would need to be treated and then wait for confirmation of a normal pap before starting the placement process again. It likely would take several paps at three-month intervals before I could be cleared to relaunch the placement process. At that point, I probably would have to begin the entire medical process again. 

I won't know for sure until I get the biopsy. I have a letter ready with backup documentation from the CDC, National Cancer Institute and other medical organizations showing that this diagnosis requires only monitoring, not treatment. 

But I have to prepare for the likelihood that I will not be leaving in June. Or, more than likely, entering PC at all. Not because I am physically unfit to serve, but because I don't fit the bureaucratic box that must be checked. 

I have invested everything I have into realizing this dream. I've quit my job and lost any financial security. I am trying to sell my house and will be unable to afford it regardless of the PC outcome. My car lease is due and I can't afford to buy it or even a junker. I have just enough in liquid assets to see me through until I was to board the plane June 10. 

I have no desire to try to reclaim the job, the house, etc. 

But I also have no idea what will happen next. 

This scares me far more than any of the silly worries about snakes, spiders, solitude, sanitation or hardships of PC life. 

I may be out of touch for a few days. Alternatively, I may be excessively needy. Either way I ask for understanding/respect. Thanks. 

Medical clerance rant.

(w/TMI warning for those of the male persuasion)

PC approved my medical with the caveat that I need a pap every six months. That would put me at a June 4 appointment ... when I'm slated to leave June 8. So I went ahead and had one a couple of weeks ago.

Got the results yesterday. Same as the past several ... low-grade, nondysplasic, abnormal cells. Nothing I didn't expect, but it means another colposcopy, which means more money, more waiting and more worrying that this will keep me from getting on that plane in June.

Spoke with the PC nurse yesterday and she said everything's fine, just send in the biopsy results when I get them.

But woke this morning to an email message that I again have a medical hold on my PC status.

Angus on the PC Africa desk assures me that applicants often have a hold right up to the day they leave, and that as long as I can give PC medical what they need, even at the very last minute, I'll be good to go.

So I shouldn't worry.

But you know I do!

Twende pamoja!

I've set up a new blog for Tanzania:

http://twende-pamoja.blogspot.com/

I'll make some additions and start posting on it in the next few days. May still post here occasionally, especially before I leave. But the new blog is for a more general audience.

What a productive Wednesday: Bought a good pair of quick-drying pants; found two options for selling bad karma jewelry from various exes; chatted with an agronomist at UNL; proseltyzed to a couple of Huddle's students who are interested in PC; and maybe, maybe found a solar setup that is not only efficient but highly affordable! Need to talk with my resident computer geeks and call the company to check it out further, but thanks to my friend Melinda and her computer geeks for finding me this option.

A volunteer already in TZ advises me that as an environmental volunteer I'll be known as a "mental." As if I'm not already!

Only two more days in the newsroom, which seems surreal. I really don't feel emotional about leaving. Don't think I'll be back this time.

Looking forward to the next two weeks of packing up my life, then a quick trip to Tucson, road trip home w/Miz K, and a few days to move everything into storage, solve any last-minute problems, and kiss each of you goodbye.

Mark your calendars for Billy Bacon and the Forbidden Pigs on Friday, June 6. And/or, depending on when I leave, Saturday the 7th. But no shots!

Currently reading: Building Soils for Better Crops (second edition), Fred Magdoff and Harold Van Es

But will the bus fit in my carryon?

Because I'd need my own tour bus to bring everything currently on my packing list. Jill thought I should post it so y'all can laugh at me and my idea of getting away from all this American materialism. It ain't gonna be easy, that's for sure.

I'm checking on the possibility of mailing myself some stuff in advance -- anything that's heavy and inexpensive and not immediately essential. But I'll still need to haul it all to site on my own, so I will need to start paring down my ...

PEACE CORPS PACKING LIST:
Items to buy in italics

Luggage: (Two checked bags = max 107 linear inches and 80 lbs. combined)
Swiss Army suitcase: 17 x 26 x 13
Gregory Deva 60 backpack: 17 x 28 x 11 if really overstuffed
Large, lightweight duffel (To contain backpack for checked luggage on airline so straps won’t get caught; use later as extra bag in country)
Carry-on suitcase
PLUS?: Daypack as second carryon (“Personal” – i.e., purse/laptop carrier ... need to make sure I can do both this and a full carryon)

Gifts
Toys for kids: Balloons; bubbles; jump ropes; toy cars; playing cards; Uno; Frisbees? hackeysacks?
Gift for host family: Nebraska book?
Other miscellaneous gifts: Towels embroidered by my mom; lotions; incense? Tshirts? Pens?

Technology: TZ is 210V
Laptop
Camera, connector, batteries, charger
iPod and charger/connector; headphones/EXTRAS/pads
Speakers
Solio (solar charger for iPod)
Solar panels for laptop
Shortwave radio?
Flash drives
Power adapters; surge protector?
Watch
Headlamp
Batteries/charger
Blank CDs/sleeves?
2009/20010 datebook?

Gardening supplies:
Work boots?
Gloves
Trowel?
Felco pruners
Seeds: Tomatoes; carrots; eggplant; onion; cucumber; radishes; beets; cilantro; basil; spinach;

Medications:
Lybrel: 3 month supply
Vitamins
Over-the-counter sleep aid
Ibuprofen
Calcium?
Iron?
Cranberry extract?

Toiletries:
Two pairs glasses (second pair w/clip-on sunglasses)
Contacts (two years’ worth?)
Saline; lens cases; eyedrops
Soap; soapdish
Toothbrushes; toothpaste; floss; toothbrush holder
Lip balm (two years' worth of Burt's Bees!)
Face wash
Moisturizer
Face scrub
Sunscreen: Face; body
Body lotion Hand lotion
Razor/blades (bought two years' worth on eBay; apparently among the hardest things to find)
Shampoo, conditioner, anti-frizz cream
Hairbrush; comb; clips; hairbands; elastics; pins
Qtips?
Deodorant (also hard to find)
Nail clippers, files, cuticle cream
Tweezers; scissors; mirror
Pumice stone
Hair dryer; flatiron (for those rare opportunities w/electricity)
Toilet paper
Hand sanitizer; handiwipes
Iodine pills?
Small bandaids
Earplugs; eye mask

Makeup: (I know, I know...)
Powder foundation; sponges
Concealer
Eyelash curler; pencil sharpener
Mascara; eye shadows; eyeliner; brushes
Stila lipstick; Burt’s Bees gloss

Clothes:
Bras; sports bras
Undies: Cotton; Exofficio (organic/soy/quick-drying/AWESOME)
Pajama pants; tanks; nightdress
Tshirts: Black; white; colors;
Long-sleeve Tshirts
Other tops: light sweaters/blouses;
Polarfleece; second sweater or hoodie
Skirts (must be below knee): Green hemp; pink/Krista; black/Krista; cargo; black floral;
Dresses: ???
Pants: Ripstop/quick-drying?; khaki cropped; brown linen; black cropped; plaid/knee (as a woman, I'm only "allowed" pants because I'll be working in sustainable ag, so this is probably too many)
Jeans: Dark; light;
Exercise pants, top; skort (doubles as swimsuit coverup
Swimsuit? (conservative; must cover midriff and wear shorts over it?)
Rain jacket
Hats: Straw gardening hat; Ex-officio camping hat; ballcaps?
Bandanas
Sunglasses (several cheap pairs; one good pair of Bollos)
Scarves: Black; lavender; sarong; silk;
Socks: white thorlos; hiking; more??
Shoes: Merrill black slides; Merrill maryjanes; Keens; thongs; trail runners; work boots?

Jewelry:
Earrings
“Wedding” ring (supposedly helps keep the suitors at bay)

Household:
Water bottles (aluminum; Nalgenes)
Sleeping bag
Swiss army knives
Dry bag?
Pillowcase
Microfiber towels (large, small); washcloths?
Beach towel?
Yoga mat?

Kitchen:
Towels; napkins?
Small pan/skillet (highly recommended; hard to find in-country?)
Collapsible colander
Kitchen knife; paring knife
Flexible cutting board
Egg carrier? (recommended if I plan to buy eggs)
Measuring cups / spoons
Spatula; paring knife; peeler; grater
Chohula (essential!)
Spices: What to bring? Suggestions are welcome!
Tea; Splenda; powder to flavor water
Hummus mix
Ziploc bags, large and small (apparently as valuable in Africa as cigarettes are in prison)
Cookbook?

Office supplies:
Journals
Notebooks
Pens AND REFILLS
Scissors
Tape: Scotch; duct;
Post-it page flags (cuz I'm, y'know, me)
Clothesline/clothespins for hanging art (Ikea?)
Big world map?

Paperwork:
Immunization card
Copies: Passport; immunization card; other vaccinations
Prescriptions: Lybrel; eyeglasses; contacts
Copies of pap smears, mammogram
Divorce decree; college transcripts (why, you ask? yeah, me too)
Resume

Miscellaneous:
BOOKS!!! (again, suggestions welcome ... I'm told to bring something "light" ... but weighed down with agronomy books at present)
Photos and album (to show my host family/village)
Cloth bags; daypack; waistpack
Waistpack; cloth bags
Padlocks
Carabiners
Bike helmet? Gloves? (PC sez you have to wear a helmet, but apparently doesn't always provide one)
Dominoes?
Incense? (my comfort item?)

------------

Now I need to set up a new blog for the TZ adventure. Name suggestions? Winner gets the beer and slice of her/his choice @ Yia-Yia's ... one of many places I'm gonna miss ...

Meanwhile, I'm reading every blog I can find from current volunteers in country ... and trying not to freak out over so many stories of mamba snakes and spiders as big as your fist ...

I am not ashamed of my weekend J-Lo film festival.

Nope. Not at all. Not with all I've accomplished this weekend. And not when any movie -- highbrow or marshmallow fluff -- will be in short supply all too soon.

Last night it was "The Wedding Planner." Then "Enough." Then I went for the trifecta with "Selena." And now "Monster-in-Law" ... one of those TBS back-to-back things, so I caught the last 20 minutes and now I'm watching the beginning. Kind of like reading the end of the book first.

I can't seem to read much at all lately, front or back; rote romantic comedies seem to be the only thing that can put my spinning mind into sleep mode.

Yesterday: Went to my last yoga class (my gym membership ends this week). Gave my long-neglected house a deep cleaning ... and gave myself a fat lip in the process. Packed up winter clothes, record albums and a few other nonessentials. Worked out a Peace Corps packing list, a to-do list, and a timeline that makes me feel like I really can get everything done in the next six weeks -- including a trip to Tucson, yay! Made deals on virtually all of the furniture I'd planned to sell (still hoping someone will take the entertainment center, and my wedding ring).

So I think a little mind candy is perfectly justified.

Today I took things a bit slower. Got to see Miz Amy and Co. (too briefly) and Miz Melissa. Volunteered at the Community CROPS plant sale, which brought me another good contact once I settle into my new home. Turns out a former CROPS worker is in Peace Corps in neighboring Malawi, also in sustainable agriculture.

While my realtor held an open house, I spent a couple of hours at Meadowlark working out a list of everything I "need" to buy for the trip. At this point, I'm not only well over the PC 80-pound/two bag limit, I'd likely need a crew of sherpas to to it all for me.

On the search now for small, lightweight gifts I can bring ... little things for children, something nice for my host family. Ideas, anyone?

I'll also entertain ideas for a few books to bring along with me. Probably best to keep things light, though I don't think I can go so vacuous as the printed equivalent of a J-Lo movie. Send me your suggestions!

The road to Tanzania.

For anyone I forgot to email earlier today (and, if I did, shoot me your address so I can add you to the list!):

After six long months, my Peace Corps invitation packet came this morning.

I’m going to Tanzania!

Not that I had any say in it, but if they'd asked me where I wanted to go, Tanzania would have been first on my list.

While the application process seemed to drag on for so long, suddenly things are coming to a head far too quickly! My group will have a few days of orientation here in the U.S. starting June 8, then arrive in Tanzania on June 12 for three months of training with my fellow volunteers before leaving for my site.

I’ll be a village-based extension educator, working in environmental education and sustainable agriculture. (Yes, life in an African village means pit latrines, bucket baths and no electricity – but I’ll get a mountain bike for transportation.) I’ll also be working on HIV/AIDS prevention and education. My head is already overflowing with project ideas, but I know I need to get to my site and get a feel for what the village really needs before embarking on any specitific plan.

Tanzania, in eastern Africa, is home to Mount Kilimanjaro, Lake Victoria and the Serengeti. The capital, Dar es Salaam, is on the coast of the Indian Ocean. The country shares borders with Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi, Zambia, Malawi and Mozambique.

I’m only just beginning to learn about the country myself. Here are some Web sites for basic info on Tanzania:

https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/tz.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanzania

http://www.lonelyplanet.com/worldguide/tanzania/

I’ll be busy in the coming weeks, but I really want to make sure to spend as much time as possible with my friends and loved ones. Many of you have been critical in helping me get this far, and I want to soak up as much of you as I can. So drag me away from packing up my books, and make me take you out for a beer!

Namaste, peace and love to all ...

It's in the mail.

Should've written yesterday's whiny post weeks ago ... because surely it's what caused the PC gods to send me the email this morning alerting me to the fact that my invitation has been mailed.

Within the week, I should finally know where they're sending me and when.

Do I dare admit that my gut reaction was fear?

But followed quickly by all the good stuff ... elation, satisfaction, rampant curiousity, etc ...

More to come soon!

And thanks to all of you who've been so supportive. You mean the world to me!

Don't ask.

No, really, it’s nice that you do. Encouraging to realize just how many people are genuinely interested in my looming adventure.

But I have an idea that if only I were to start carrying a 40-lb. bowling ball around with me at all times, I might have an idea what a 40-weeks-pregnant mother might feel when everyone points out the obvious: "You're still pregnant?"

No one says “Hi” to me anymore … all greetings are along the lines of "Sooo ....?" or “Haven’t you heard yet?”

Obviously, I’ve yet to hear anything formal from Peace Corps. On Friday it’ll be a month since my phone interview with my placement officer – an interview that went really well and left me with the impression that I’d be getting my invitation in a week or so.

Since then, I’ve heard through the grapevine that I’ve been “placed” – whatever that means. It may be that they’ve found a program/site for me but haven’t done the paperwork yet.

I know this is happening, and they have to give me at least six weeks’ notice. So I’m trying to be constructive in the meantime … packing up nonessentials, spending as much time with those I love and doing all the things I’ll miss about Lincoln. And practicing that damn patience thing. It’ll come in handy, I hear.

The house is officially on the market -- check it out!

And I'm using Blogger to sell my furniture when I'm ready. I'll take out free ads on Craigslist and LJS, with a photo and the web site. Let me know what you think.


Spiraling outward.

I long ago adopted the spiral as my personal nature symbol. I never had any logical reason for it; it just felt very “circle of life” to me.

I never really understood why I felt so drawn to the idea of three spirals for my "jobkiller" tattoo. Why not just the one?

Krista recently sent me this passage she found in a book:

"The archetype of the spiral has existed since the beginning of civilization throughout all the world's cultures – as an art form, a religious symbol, and a sacred vehicle for medications. Spirals have been found on Neolithic rock carvings, indicating that the earliest human inhabitants of our planet considered them an important part of the their cosmological understanding. Many ancient peoples and indigenous and Eastern religions depicted our life journey using sacred circular symbols – the Native American medicine wheel, the Aztec calendar, the Mandala of Hinduism and Buddhism, the circles in the Celtic cross, the interlocking halves of the Chinese yin and yang and the mystical labyrinth.

"These physical representation of the great circle of existence and the interior journey of the soul. Each of them focuses our eye on a point within the symbol, as if gathering the outside energies and drawing them inward. In this way, they are designed as mystical and powerful forms of spiritual contemplation, inviting the seeker to travel within and discover the divine.

"Reality is not linear at all – it is circular. Life does not move forward in a straight line, but swirls around in a mysterious cosmic dance.

”This is the secret of the spiral: it brings up back to what great sages have called "the eternal Now.”

That made me happy.

It also led me to do some completely nonscientific research, via Wikipedia:

“The spiral is the most ancient symbol found on every civilized continent. Due to its appearance at burial sites across the globe, the spiral most likely represented the "life-death-rebirth" cycle. Similarly, the spiral symbolized the sun, as ancient people thought the sun was born each morning, died each night, and was reborn the next morning.”

“The triple spiral is one of the main symbols of Celtic Reconstructionist Paganism, often standing for the "three realms" – Land, Sea and Sky, or for one of a number of deities who are described in the lore as "threefold" or triadic. … Some Celtic-inspired Wiccans also use the triple spiral symbol, most often to represent the concept of the triple goddess.”

"A triskelion or triskele … is a symbol consisting of three interlocked spirals, or three bent human legs, or any similar symbol with three protrusions and a threefold rotational symmetry. ... Spiral forms of the triskele are often classed as solar symbols, while the legged version, sometimes including a gorgon mask or Medusa's head at the central axle point in the Sicilian version, suggests a chthonic (earthy) significance."

(In lesser company, the triskelion has similarities to the Nazi swastika and apparently has been proposed as a secret sign for BDSM practitioners. We'll just roll (spiral?) right on past those ...)

Maybe I learned these associations at some point and kept them in my subconscious. But I think it's fascinating to consider that I came up with the same symbolism as multiple ancient cultures, from far-flung parts of the globe.


Thought for the day.

“It is easy to see the beginning of things, and harder to see the ends.”
— Joan Didion