Night before last I woke abruptly, flailing from a dream -- not just knocking over my glass of water but spilling it; not just spilling it but breaking the glass; not just breaking the glass but gouging a digit on a jagged shard in the dark. My glass isn't half-empty -- it's ALL empty, because I spilled it and broke it and stabbed myself in the process.
True story. Metaphor, too? I hope not.
------------
But I managed to work it into this writing exercise -- nicked from someone's MySpace blog. Write your own bio, in 500 words or less ... without using the letter "e."
Today my glass not half full but fully vacant, as I not only spill it but I bust it and jab a thumb on its shards to boot. But I want this not as my soul’s symbol. Shit occurs; glass shatt’rs. This fight stops not, and that glass will fill again. (Though might I should switch to plastic?) I stand again at my tap, awaiting my fill, soothing my own thirst from what flows down low. I'm of a mind to start acclimatizing, but it's such an uphill climb. Want world’s crossroads in my sights, its junctions in my grasp. I’m short and – why not admit it? – I’m spunky to match. Want my man but won’t wait 'round. Why, I find I’m strong as I start cultivating my own ground. I’m kind, though I too oft' unwind, ruminating my past. Now wild with might and not afraid to right wrongs, forging my own trail, dancing, vacillating, to drums of my own choosing. And if I mix my imag’ry, if I contradict my synonyms, what of it? Walt wouldn’t mind. Walt would start that party and stay to its last. Conjuring my gut’s Whitman to call out his song as my own; as with him I won’t stop for nothing, no holds barred and no bars to hold onto. Privy only to my thoughts I find it all, with and without rhyming, with and without rhythm, but always, always with spirit intact. At my last, that’s all I can ask. I'm my own vision; I'm why I stay.
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When it comes to fight or flight, my first tendency is still flight. But I'm finding that's nothing more than old habit. The fighter in me is, well, fighting to get out.
Another of the Deep Thoughts I've been journal-jotting as they come to me in the past couple of days.
Mostly, they make me sleepy.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Good fortune? When?
This was the message inside the fortune cookie William gave me along with free sushi leftovers.
I have no doubt my next adventure will be a good one, but when, exactly will it begin?
Trying my best to cultivate patience. But it is so not in my nature.
This morning, I got an email update:
"Peace Corps sent you an important letter regarding the status of your application on January 29, 2008. Please review the contents of the letter and contact the Peace Corps if you have questions."
WHY would they not just email the content of the letter? I'm on pins and needles here!
My recruiter doesn't have access to any info. At first she thought it might be my invitation, but on rethinking realized it's likely way too early for that.
The placement office in D.C. at least was able to tell me it's a message from the medical office.
So I emailed my medical officer, who responded with this extremely helpful message:
"The letter will inform you of the status of your medical review. "
My online application still shows a "hold" on my medical clearance. I can only assume that they need more information. But why tease me this way? Why not just let me know what they need from me? Why email me to let me know they've snail-mailed me?
Or, as once again I immediately jump to the worst-case scenario, are they writing to let me know my services are not needed -- not now, not never, nohow?
OK, OK ... all I can do is wait. Patience. If I can't call upon it now, how will I cope in another world?
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Reading about a serial killer.
I'm reading a relatively new book called "28: Stories of AIDS in Africa." That's one story for every 1 million Africans currently living with AIDS. Truck drivers and soldiers who unwittingly spread the disease cross-country and cross-continent ... and fail to change their behaviors even after they understand how HIV is transmitted. Elderly women left to care for dozens of grandchildren when their own children die, one after the other. Children, so many children, born HIV positive and then orphaned. Wives abandoned by the husbands who infected them, then shuned by their families and communities. Activists who dare to publicly challenge dictatorial governments. The extent of the ostracism is baffling, considering the simultaneous, astronomical infection rates -- in many cases, those who shut out/shout down the HIV+ are infected themselves.
The author sounds an optimistic note, and perhaps attitudes and statistics are beginning to change. Antiretrovirals have been proven to keep patients healthy, and the sheer numbers mean one can be public about HIV status without being beaten to death.
But from what little I've been reading, there's plenty ofwork to be done. Condoms are still routinely laughed at and unavailable. Medications are more affordable, but clinics remain woefully underfunded, understaffed and understocked -- how can they offer drug therapy to everyone who needs it when they can't even keep latex gloves in stock? Presidents disparage the medications that can keep HIV+ Africans healthy ... or continue to publicly claim that AIDS isn't spread by sex.
Currently a movement is afoot to focus world aid resources not on HIV/AIDS but on Africa's other pandemics -- malnutrition, malaria, parasites, etc. Certainly these are mass killers as well, but AIDS has virtually wiped out an entire generation of an entire continent. If it isn't brought under control, the spiral will continue. Isn't there enough aid to go around?
------------
I hope my fellow Nebraskans got out and enjoyed this amazing day. Fifty-two degrees, last time I checked; when I spoke to Miz K down Tucson-way, she said it was about 60 there. We're catching up! Think sunshine, everyone ...
The author sounds an optimistic note, and perhaps attitudes and statistics are beginning to change. Antiretrovirals have been proven to keep patients healthy, and the sheer numbers mean one can be public about HIV status without being beaten to death.
But from what little I've been reading, there's plenty ofwork to be done. Condoms are still routinely laughed at and unavailable. Medications are more affordable, but clinics remain woefully underfunded, understaffed and understocked -- how can they offer drug therapy to everyone who needs it when they can't even keep latex gloves in stock? Presidents disparage the medications that can keep HIV+ Africans healthy ... or continue to publicly claim that AIDS isn't spread by sex.
Currently a movement is afoot to focus world aid resources not on HIV/AIDS but on Africa's other pandemics -- malnutrition, malaria, parasites, etc. Certainly these are mass killers as well, but AIDS has virtually wiped out an entire generation of an entire continent. If it isn't brought under control, the spiral will continue. Isn't there enough aid to go around?
------------
I hope my fellow Nebraskans got out and enjoyed this amazing day. Fifty-two degrees, last time I checked; when I spoke to Miz K down Tucson-way, she said it was about 60 there. We're catching up! Think sunshine, everyone ...
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Hibernation now, harmattan later?
I am officially boycotting this wintry Nebraska day. Ten degrees out, up considerably from the 5 below when I ventured out to the gym this morning. Now I've decided this day can only be spent cocooning. Snuggled safely indoors, looking out ice-painted windows while reading of the dry harmattan heat of a Peace Corps life in Togo.
Krista, alternatively, has invited me down to Tucson for a hike in a 60-degree winter desert. Sounds lovely, but here is where I am, and here is not so bad.
More than likely, next year this time I'll be bemoaning the hot, dry season wherever I end up in Africa. So, much as I bitch about hating these Nebraska winters, today I am soaking up the good points while I can ... surrounded by afghans and books, pot of tea to hand, thinking chili for supper later and maybe even a starlight walk around the block just to shake my crazy life up a bit.
------------
So I'm comparing George Packer's PC experiences in Togo a quarter-century ago with Sarah Erdman's account of her PC service in Ghana in the late '90s. What's most depressing is that so little seems to have changed, development-wise, in the intervening years. Electricity and potable water far from the norm for the average village. Education only a nominal priority, and only involving memorization/repetition; comprehending the big picture is actually frowned upon. Any means of grasping one's way out of barely subsistence poverty constantly thwarted, whether by punishing climate or dictatorial government or jealous neighbors.
The haunting overall question, summoned by the stories I've read so far: Does the Peace Corps actually bring any concrete improvements? The next question, of course, has to be how one defines "improvement." These are the issues I'm preparing to grapple with ... on, now, to some new books on the AIDS crisis in Africa.
In related news, a new Lancet study suggests that funds earmarked for fighting the global AIDS crisis might be better spent on health basics such as malnutrition, family planning, clean water and malaria, which kill far more worldwide than AIDS. What's sad is that we think we have to choose which devastating health risks to battle.
-------------
Hmm. The only flaw in my hibernation plan is my failure to have picked up a video or two. Watched "Il Postino" last night for the first time, and fell in love (again) with Pablo Neruda. Terribly sweet, romantic movie.
Quote of the day: "Poetry doesn't belong to those who wrote it, but to those who need it." -- from "Il Postino"
Currently reading: Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, Pablo Neruda
Currently listening: Country for True Lovers, Eleni Mandell
Krista, alternatively, has invited me down to Tucson for a hike in a 60-degree winter desert. Sounds lovely, but here is where I am, and here is not so bad.
More than likely, next year this time I'll be bemoaning the hot, dry season wherever I end up in Africa. So, much as I bitch about hating these Nebraska winters, today I am soaking up the good points while I can ... surrounded by afghans and books, pot of tea to hand, thinking chili for supper later and maybe even a starlight walk around the block just to shake my crazy life up a bit.
------------
So I'm comparing George Packer's PC experiences in Togo a quarter-century ago with Sarah Erdman's account of her PC service in Ghana in the late '90s. What's most depressing is that so little seems to have changed, development-wise, in the intervening years. Electricity and potable water far from the norm for the average village. Education only a nominal priority, and only involving memorization/repetition; comprehending the big picture is actually frowned upon. Any means of grasping one's way out of barely subsistence poverty constantly thwarted, whether by punishing climate or dictatorial government or jealous neighbors.
The haunting overall question, summoned by the stories I've read so far: Does the Peace Corps actually bring any concrete improvements? The next question, of course, has to be how one defines "improvement." These are the issues I'm preparing to grapple with ... on, now, to some new books on the AIDS crisis in Africa.
In related news, a new Lancet study suggests that funds earmarked for fighting the global AIDS crisis might be better spent on health basics such as malnutrition, family planning, clean water and malaria, which kill far more worldwide than AIDS. What's sad is that we think we have to choose which devastating health risks to battle.
-------------
Hmm. The only flaw in my hibernation plan is my failure to have picked up a video or two. Watched "Il Postino" last night for the first time, and fell in love (again) with Pablo Neruda. Terribly sweet, romantic movie.
Quote of the day: "Poetry doesn't belong to those who wrote it, but to those who need it." -- from "Il Postino"
Currently reading: Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, Pablo Neruda
Currently listening: Country for True Lovers, Eleni Mandell
Sunday, January 13, 2008
"... and the days keep rolling along ..."
1.
One little snippet of Peace Corps news: I've already received my dental clearance! My dad (who's also my dentist) will be so proud.
That's the easy, and speedy, part of PC medical approval. Don't expect to hear anything else anytime soon.
2.
Don't you love those episodes when it seems as if the universe sends you exactly what you need exactly when you need it? They sneak in, overshadowing the far vaster series of moments in which things just don't work out that way.
Last week, my real-estate agent came by to talk about selling my house. The short story: Thanks to a flattened market, a bit of financial recklessness on my part (actually using a home-equity line I was strong-armed into at the point of purchase), the brief time I've owned the place and -- mostly -- the realtor fees, right now I would get back about 40 percent of my down payment. I spent the rest of the day in a state of shock.
The next day, I ran into a friend/coworker in the ladies' room. "I dreamt of you last night," she said. "I dreamt that instead of selling your house, you rented it to my brother instead."
I hadn't wanted to even consider renting instead of selling ... didn't want to worry about what I couldn't possibly control/manage from half a world away. But if I were to rent, said brother is one of about half a dozen people I can actually envision inking a deal with. A master carpenter with a proven devotion to older homes. Hmmm...
If that doesn't work out, another possibility emerges. My sister-in-law says her mother is contemplating buying a few rental properties, with sis-in-law acting as property manager. Her mom's a lawyer, so we could avoid the realtor fees.
And if that doesn't work out, a couple of other trustworthy friends have expressed interest. I'm encouraged enough to feel sure that, one way or another, I won't lose what's left of my life savings.
Truth is, even the worst-case scenario would be worth the life change to me. I suppose that says everything.
3.
As if I weren't hemorrhaging money enough, I had an epiphany of my own last week. I've been dreading the thought of having to wear glasses for the next two years -- they're clunky and accident-prone, and I don't see with them nearly as well as with contacts. Yet I understand why PC frowns on contacts -- sanitary safety would be, at best, difficult to maintain.
Wouldn't it be great, I thought one morning as I woke and squinted to read the 2-inch LCD letters six inches from my face, if I could just suddenly acquire 20-2o vision?
So I've made an appointment for a Lasik consultation. Not sure I'm a good candidate, but I think it's worth looking into. If you have a Lasik story to share -- good or bad, yours or your SO's or your brother's friend or sheer rumor -- bring it on.
------------
Currently reading: "The Village of Waiting," by George Packer
Currently hearing: "Life is Sweet," Maria McKee
One little snippet of Peace Corps news: I've already received my dental clearance! My dad (who's also my dentist) will be so proud.
That's the easy, and speedy, part of PC medical approval. Don't expect to hear anything else anytime soon.
2.
Don't you love those episodes when it seems as if the universe sends you exactly what you need exactly when you need it? They sneak in, overshadowing the far vaster series of moments in which things just don't work out that way.
Last week, my real-estate agent came by to talk about selling my house. The short story: Thanks to a flattened market, a bit of financial recklessness on my part (actually using a home-equity line I was strong-armed into at the point of purchase), the brief time I've owned the place and -- mostly -- the realtor fees, right now I would get back about 40 percent of my down payment. I spent the rest of the day in a state of shock.
The next day, I ran into a friend/coworker in the ladies' room. "I dreamt of you last night," she said. "I dreamt that instead of selling your house, you rented it to my brother instead."
I hadn't wanted to even consider renting instead of selling ... didn't want to worry about what I couldn't possibly control/manage from half a world away. But if I were to rent, said brother is one of about half a dozen people I can actually envision inking a deal with. A master carpenter with a proven devotion to older homes. Hmmm...
If that doesn't work out, another possibility emerges. My sister-in-law says her mother is contemplating buying a few rental properties, with sis-in-law acting as property manager. Her mom's a lawyer, so we could avoid the realtor fees.
And if that doesn't work out, a couple of other trustworthy friends have expressed interest. I'm encouraged enough to feel sure that, one way or another, I won't lose what's left of my life savings.
Truth is, even the worst-case scenario would be worth the life change to me. I suppose that says everything.
3.
As if I weren't hemorrhaging money enough, I had an epiphany of my own last week. I've been dreading the thought of having to wear glasses for the next two years -- they're clunky and accident-prone, and I don't see with them nearly as well as with contacts. Yet I understand why PC frowns on contacts -- sanitary safety would be, at best, difficult to maintain.
Wouldn't it be great, I thought one morning as I woke and squinted to read the 2-inch LCD letters six inches from my face, if I could just suddenly acquire 20-2o vision?
So I've made an appointment for a Lasik consultation. Not sure I'm a good candidate, but I think it's worth looking into. If you have a Lasik story to share -- good or bad, yours or your SO's or your brother's friend or sheer rumor -- bring it on.
------------
Currently reading: "The Village of Waiting," by George Packer
Currently hearing: "Life is Sweet," Maria McKee
Thursday, January 3, 2008
The big sendoff.
"One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time." — Andre Gide
My doctor called today. The biopsy, as she expected, showed absolutely nothing. She faxed over the lab report -- the final missing piece of paper for my Peace Corps medical packet.
After all the rushing and cajoling and organizing and angstifying over the past couple of months, it felt a bit anticlimactic to seal the envelope and drop it in the mail this evening. Nothing to do now but wait a couple months or so.
Meanwhile, I'm immersed in books about AIDS in Africa and about the Peace Corps life in general, and so already I have a new topic to obsess over: Can I really do this? The bucket baths, the lack of electricity, the complete lack of privacy, the biting of tongue when cultures clash, the wondering whether I'm really making a difference ...
Do I really have any idea what I'm getting myself into?
I'm sure I don't ... but I'm naively looking forward to the adventure ...
------------
Obama in Iowa!
Things just started to get interesting ...
------------
Who, I wonder, is my new friend in Waukesha, Wisconsin???
------------
Currently reading: "Nine Hills to Nambonkaha: Two Years in the Heart of an African Village," Sarah Erdman
Currently hearing: "Pop-Pop!," Rickie Lee Jones
My doctor called today. The biopsy, as she expected, showed absolutely nothing. She faxed over the lab report -- the final missing piece of paper for my Peace Corps medical packet.
After all the rushing and cajoling and organizing and angstifying over the past couple of months, it felt a bit anticlimactic to seal the envelope and drop it in the mail this evening. Nothing to do now but wait a couple months or so.
Meanwhile, I'm immersed in books about AIDS in Africa and about the Peace Corps life in general, and so already I have a new topic to obsess over: Can I really do this? The bucket baths, the lack of electricity, the complete lack of privacy, the biting of tongue when cultures clash, the wondering whether I'm really making a difference ...
Do I really have any idea what I'm getting myself into?
I'm sure I don't ... but I'm naively looking forward to the adventure ...
------------
Obama in Iowa!
Things just started to get interesting ...
------------
Who, I wonder, is my new friend in Waukesha, Wisconsin???
------------
Currently reading: "Nine Hills to Nambonkaha: Two Years in the Heart of an African Village," Sarah Erdman
Currently hearing: "Pop-Pop!," Rickie Lee Jones
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Happy New Year!
Life is not a constant thing;
it's only made of short stories ...
-- Neko Case, "Guided By Wire"
I'm looking forward to seeing what the next chapter brings for each of us ... I hope your 2008 got off to a good start. I know mine did!
------------
Start the new year off as an optimistic environmentalist ... fill out Lincoln Electric System's online survey to suggest priorities for sustainable energy projects. Where it asks for additional suggestions, I offered "promotion/incentives for solar water heaters and solar energy panels." Who knows ... maybe something might actually come of it?
------------
Favorite fortune cookie of the New Year's weekend:
Pay attention to your nonverbal cues, and try turning it down.
Especially funny when you know the two words to add to the end of every fortune ...
it's only made of short stories ...
-- Neko Case, "Guided By Wire"
I'm looking forward to seeing what the next chapter brings for each of us ... I hope your 2008 got off to a good start. I know mine did!
------------
Start the new year off as an optimistic environmentalist ... fill out Lincoln Electric System's online survey to suggest priorities for sustainable energy projects. Where it asks for additional suggestions, I offered "promotion/incentives for solar water heaters and solar energy panels." Who knows ... maybe something might actually come of it?
------------
Favorite fortune cookie of the New Year's weekend:
Pay attention to your nonverbal cues, and try turning it down.
Especially funny when you know the two words to add to the end of every fortune ...
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