strength in numbers

So folks, it's been quite a while since I blogged and I'm sorry. I really am. I could make the excuse that I've been so ridiculously busy that I haven't had the opportunity to sit and write, but honestly, I've had tons of time sitting and, well... sitting. Infact, I've been sitting and doing exactly that for quite some time. I don't know what to tell you. One would think that the life of a Peace Corps volunteer would consist of more than just sitting, and one would be absolutely correct in assuming so. There's laying in the hammock too. I mean, a nice hammock. The type that wraps you into a cacoon and never lets you go, kind. The kind that invites you to read over 500 pages in one day and because it's so inviting, you do exactly that. I've covered just about 20 books, and I'm the one that hates reading. But there are more things that Peace Corps volunteers do, for sure.

We volunteers( by "we", I more than likely mean "I exclusively") like to chase live stock. From my previous blogs, I've already desribed this almost innate yearning to kick goats and chicken into little puff balls of feathers, but generally, it's more or less to get them away from drying foods like corn and yams. I, however, had reached a new level of boredum. I have been known in other volunteers' villages to randomly chase baby goats and pick them up. Though this little hobby has crowned me with the honor of being the village idiot, it also put me at risk of some serious physical injury (Of course, I couldn't do this in my own village. Oh, no. I've got a professional image to keep up. I chase and scare children with my karate master skills).

Please, don't do this at home with any of your local live stock, vraiment.

I, being the easily amused person I am, one day cornered a baby goat and coaxed him into calming down with little leaves of moringa. It was easy enough. Really, it was like picking on the fat kid in dodgeball, and then making up by giving him a hostess cupcake. It's true. I know this because I was that fat kid, and all it took was a twinkie to forgive and forget. Never underestimate the power of foods with the shelf life of 20 years. Trust me. I snuck up on him like the ninja I am, and picked him up from behind. For about 5 seconds, it was all soft and cuddly until the little twerp realized that it was being held by a potentially protein deficient human being. It started to yelp and scream and squirm for dear life. I'd say it was cute, but that would make people think I was weird, and then call P.E.T.A. on me. Those terrorists. Anyway, I tried to calm it down again by speaking in the high pitched, " goochi goochi gooo" voice. How embarrasing was that? Here was an american college educated economics graduate, talking to a goat like a moron, in front of Togolese that don't play with their food. To them, it probably looked like I was trying to pet and talk to a happy meal hamburger. My village idiot crown was just then encrusted with diamonds. As I happily made a fool of myself, I failed to notice the large amount of congregating goats slowly approaching me and my new found happy meal friend. Well, crap. I can't tell you how intimidating it is to be backed into a corner, holding the child of a community of about 15 to 20 pygmie goats, and them staring you in the eyes with hooves scraping the ground. Needless to say, with a gaped mouth, I slowly bent over to release the calf. As it scurried into the center of the mob, I bolted getting butted a little bit on the way out. The villagers couldn't stop laughing. I have to admit, it wasn't the first time I've been chased by an animal here, and that is vrai ca. I got chased by an angry steer once, but I'll get to that in another post.

Yes, the government sent me as a representative the peaople of United States of America. Can't you tell how great of a job they did with attracting and filtering candidates? Be proud. 1/3 of applicants get interviews, and even less take the position. The statistics aren't on the side of prudent decision making that's for sure ( we had a trainee that didn't like to touch other people, handshaking included, didn't like talking with people, and didn't eat anything other than synthetic foods that weren't the color brown or green. I mean, the person had a diagnosed case of scurvy before coming to Peace Corps for God's sake. Seriously, people...).

At any rate, there are really other things that I do that have some sort of meaning and significance to my existence and those around me. Or atleast that's my hope. I'll share some good solid ones but not quite yet. I'll write them in the next blog. I've got to go eat some dinner before I pass out. I hope it's goat.