Yup

I’m typing this up in Chã. It’ll be one of my last blogs from here. I have to move to São Felipe in January against my will. I love Chã, the people, the landscape, everything. I feel at home here. I love the fora, which means countryside, or “out” literally, but is really unexplainable in English. It’s just the fora. I’ll miss it so much.

I’ve become used to the lack of physical space and comfort here, whether in trucks, the city, parties, etc. A few days ago I came up from the city. A woman with two small girls got in next to me, so I grabbed one of the girls and put her on my lap, as is normal. About two minutes before they exited, the girl puked all over her shirt, my arm, and some of my shirt. I shrugged my shoulders, took the rag from her mom, and cleaned up as best I could. It didn’t bother me at all, strangely enough.

I’ve been doing well otherwise. I climbed the volcano again yesterday, with the sister of another PCV and one of the best local guides. He’s climbed it over 1000 times, and led his first tourist group when he was 12. Once he did it 20 times in 20 days. I’m learning the trail so I can lead groups of PCVs and friends when they visit.

Last weekend I went down to Mosteiros with Lauren. We did the hike from Chã, with took a solid four hours. It was almost all downhill, which sounds easy, but was incredibly difficult. By the time we arrived our legs were trembling uncontrollably. The trail goes through some of Fogo’s best farmland, with bananas, coffee, guava, and more. It goes through the island’s protected forest, very remote villages, and the Natural Park’s nursery. The weekend was great. It’s always nice to see other PCVs. We’re like family here. It’s more than friendship. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the other PCVs here. They’re all I’ve got. Well, and the people in the village. But when you really need to talk only English will do.

Thanks for reading. I hope wherever you are as the holidays approach, you’re able to be with the ones you love.

Yup

Hey Everyone,

I hope all’s well where you are. I’m doing pretty well, spending the weekend in Mosteiros with some other PCVs. We did the hike down from Chã, which is beautiful. It took four hours and my legs are killing me today. Who knew all downhill could be so tough?

The other day I climbed the volcano for the third time. It’s awesome to see the ocean from the top. It’s like you can see ‘til the end of the Earth. I climbed with another PCV, a local guide, and two Dutch tourists. Their son/brother went to Michigan for his master’s. It’s always fun to meet people who know Michigan for things other than Eminem and Detroit as the Murder City, not the Motor City, Motown (perhaps not for long?!?), or Hockeytown.

I’ve been working lately gathering information about the mountain guides in the village. Most young men say they’re guides, but of the 30+ I catalogued probably 7-10 fit the bill. I would willingly climb with most of them, but then again I speak Kriolu. They all know the trails, though. Everyone here is at least bilingual, if not trilingual. It’s amazing.

My landlady’s daughter just got into town today, so we had a nice feast. I can’t get enough kabrito (baby goat). It’s so cute yet so delicious. The other day my neighbor’s horse killed two of his three kabritos… Even the cassava was good. Perhaps it’s growing on me. I still consider it a cut-rate potato, though.

I don’t have much time left before my battery dies. Thanks for reading.

Thanksgivingish

I’m writing from the Parque Natural office in São Felipe, which I guess is technically my…office? Everything’s well. I’m in town for the night, since I got a free ride and kind of need to charge electrical things.

Last weekend was sweet, as some volunteers on Fogo got together in Cova Figueira for Thanksgiving and the conselho (county…ish) festival for Santa Catarina. There are two or three conselhos on Fogo, and Chã das Caldeiras happens to be in it.

Although we couldn’t arrange a turkey, we got two cabritos (baby goats), which were quite cute, but also quite delicious. We also had apple pie, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and pumpkin (squash) pie. I personally gorged myself, but it was a nice change from the rice and beans I normally eat. That said, my rice and beans recipe is getting better every time, as well as my bread.

The main feature of the festival was live music, which started around 11 pm (depending on if the generator was working) and go ‘til at least 5 am (my bed time is 9:30 normally). It was fun to get together with everyone, do some dancing, and experience the culture. I’m just as good at dancing in Cape Verde as I am in the US (not great).

I got back on Monday, having been gone since Friday. Sadly, my village’s oldest resident, at 104, died Sunday so I shared the truck up with mourners dressed in black, teary-eyed and somber. In CV there are seven days of mourning, with women crying hauntingly. I haven’t made a visit to the deceased’s home but I’ll do it tomorrow or Sunday.

On Tuesday my boss from the Parque came with someone from Praia who’s helping collect info about tourist stuff in Chã, like hostels, restaurants, cars, etc. I’ve been showing him around interviewing and taking pictures. I think several ideas for projects have emerged, and there’s potential to help further with this project. It seems accounting isn’t done, so as much as I disliked ACC 271 and 272, I might have to pass on a few things. Next week we’re going to climb the volcano and hike the border of the volcano crater, a two day trek.

I haven’t been running the last two weeks because I kicked a rock and cut my big toe nicely playing soccer barefooted with neighbor kids. They seemed impressed with the cut and the blood, which is cool as they’re way more cut up since they rarely wear shoes doing farming chores. The Peace Corps doctor was in the village this week and it doesn’t seem infected! The post-cut advice I received was, “André bu ten ki bisti zapato ora ki bu sta joga futebol” (Andrew you have to wear shoes when you’re playing soccer). Quite helpful advice indeed, though I think I learned that lesson on my own.

After I left the Parque office I played Scrabble with Johnny and made rice and beans for lunch. Then I surfed the old inter-web and some shopping at Super Rodrigo, which of course was outstanding as always. Johnny and I did some Tae Bo with one of his buddies and his class in a school courtyard overlooking the Atlantic. It felt a million miles from Chã and not a whole lot like Peace Corps, but a good workout nonetheless.

All right that’s it for now; thanks for reading.

Fika fixi

Txan Blog 2

This is my first attempt to write a blog up at site. We’ll see how long the battery lasts. Good thing I have a Gateway (sarcasm!). Everything’s going well; last week was eventful.
Tuesday I came to São Felipe to watch the election in a bar with some other volunteers from Fogo. We lounged for awhile, did internet, shopping, etc, ‘til it was time. We went to a bar run by a guy name Vicente to hang out before dinner. Then we went to Tropical, whose owner lived in the US and promised CNN on the satellite. Getting it turned into somewhat of an ordeal but we had it by the time it was important. Before that we watched election coverage from a French station. It was a fun group, with a former volunteer, current ones, people who’d lived in the US, and Cape Verdeans interested in the race (most of the population was aware of the election, and I’d guess 99.9% were pulling for Barack). We were there ‘til 4:30 am our time (pretty late when you go to bed at 9:30 pm regularly), when we got the final result.
Everyone was ecstatic and felt the importance of the event. I have to admit I shed a tear or two when Barack made his speech in Grant Park. We wandered the empty streets back to the volunteer’s house where we stayed, passing out wherever we could find room on the floor, futon, or beds. Around 8:30 we got up, a few of us got breakfast (so good…goat cheese, fresh bread, coffee, banana), and ran errands. I went to the market to get produce, including kovi (kale?), carrots, onions, cabbage, and garlic. Even though my village produces lots of food, it’s nearly impossible to buy there. Then the internet and back to the house.
Many Cape Verdeans have asked me about the election and expressed excitement at Barack’s victory. I don’t think Americans realize how important this election was to the entire world (I don’t think we care about the world outside our borders much, and it’s a shame). The average Cape Verdean probably is fuzzy on the policies of the two candidates, but they know about the wars that have started over the last two terms, the economic problems, and know that with Barack there’s a better chance of positive change, especially regarding war. Cape Verde is a very peaceful country. There are no tribal divisions like on the continent, which fester because of a lot of things, including arbitrarily drawn borders by colonial powers. That’s because the Portuguese pretty much destroyed any differences, good or bad, between people, when they brought them to these islands as slaves. Older Cape Verdeans also remember men getting shipped off to fight for the Portuguese in Angola, to essentially forced labor in São Tome, or fighting for freedom in Guinea-Bissau. I suppose I’ve gotten off track…
We waited forever for the car back to Chã das Caldeiras, and ended up going with a Parque Natural pickup, which was great because it was free. It’s expensive to go back and forth, so whenever you can get a free lift, take it. The ride was nice, with awesome views of the mountain as we climbed into the clouds. We picked up a family along the way, and I ended up holding a rather disheveled baby boy since I was in the cab and his parents were in the bed. The bed affords a much better view but you have to hold on and ride with fresh-ish fish, and possibly goats, chickens, or pigs.
Friday was the inauguration of the winery, which felt very un-Peace Corps but was really fun. It’s been running for…5-10 years but finally everyone got together to celebrate. After waking up a little late I ate a PB&J with terrible coffee I bought from Super Rodrigo (the Wal-Mart of Fogo, so they say) in São Felipe. Then I scrubbed my backpack, which not surprisingly got fish juice on it riding in the bed of the Parque Natural pickup. Afterwards I took a shower, or rather, boiled water, put it in a bucket, and took a bucket bath.
Around 10:30 I got to the winery, thinking I was late, but nothing had happened yet. I sat with the women and peeled potatoes. There was a ton of food, including two goats, two pigs, at least 100 pounds of potatoes by my estimates, pot after pot of beans, rice, and everything else that makes a Fogo feast complete.
Around 12:30 things got rolling, with all VIPs arriving. There was a representative from COSPE (Italian NGO active here which supports the winery), the ambassador from the European Union (the EU also funds the winery), the head of the zone’s council, the minister of environment, and incredibly, the president of Cape Verde. He gave a great speech, in Kriolu (everyone else spoke in Portuguese), about how Fogo has potential in wine, coffee, aloe, and fruits, as well as tourism, but it has to do things well. It’s no good to produce crappy wine or coffee or run a second-rate hostel.
After the speeches (the president spoke last, as he was the most important person), there was wine tasting (white, rosé, passito, and red), Fogo goat cheese (so good), and toast. After the one good corkscrew broke I helped with my Swiss army knife’s corkscrew. Then came food, bowl after bowl, plate after plate. Everyone was stuffed, and there was a lot left over. This was great for the community, as many women came and took some for their families. No one eats much meat here, and it wouldn’t surprise me if this was the best meal some of the kids had eaten, and certainly more meat than usual.
When it all wrapped up around 5 pm, Lauren and I went over to Casa de Ramiro, a store/bar where Ramiro and family/friends play traditional Cape Verdean music. We sat awhile with the mix of locals and tourists who normally fill the tiny place in the evening. Exhausted from a day of gorging myself, I made the short trek downhill to my place, ate cake for dinner, and hit the sack.
Otherwise I’ve been keeping somewhat busy, reading, learning to bake bread, talking to people, getting back into running, practicing Kriolu, casking fijon. I just finished The Three Musketeers (thanks Shanka!), the 12th book I’ve read at site. Pretty soon I’m going to start giving an English class for the mountain guides and others involved in tourism. We get a lot of Germans, all of whom speak English, and expect an influx of Brits. I hope to get that off the ground in the next few weeks. I just made a delicious pot pie for dinner. It was great. I’ll make it for you sometime, especially if you visit.
Well, that’s it. Thanks for reading. Fika fixi (stay fine)

FOGOOOOOOOOOOO

Sorry for not positing the last month or so. The transition from training to actual service was quite hectic, and my site, lacking electricity and thus an internet caf� makes it difficult. Still, I�ll try to get posting more regularly as I have more time to write, once I find a place to charge my laptop.
I live in Ch� das Caldeiras on the island of Fogo (Fogo means fire in Portuguese; the island is a volcano). I live in the crater of the original volcano. Mt. Fogo is the highest peak and is literally in my front year. I climbed it with several Spanish tourists and a local guide, which took around four hours up and 1.5 hours down. Going down is sweet; you kind of ski/run or loose cinders. The volcano last erupted in 1995 (with no loss of life, Mom!).
My house is a two room cinder block rectangular box connected to my landlady�s bedroom and kitchen. She also has several rooms to rent to tourists, primarily Europeans. If you�d like to visit you can stay there, if you don�t want to share my double bed or the concrete floor. No electricity or running water, which was actually quite easy to get used to. I get water from a tank which is filled from rainwater from the roof, bucket by bucket. Thankfully, my most possession, my Freeplay Summit shortwave radio, is solar and crank powered. I charge my cell phone at the winery here, a project funded in large part by an Italian group. It has solar panels and a generator for power, and it�s understood that citizens can charge phones there. I cook for myself on a gas stove, the kind you have to light with a match and almost burn your hand. I don�t keep much food on hand, lacking a fridge. I wash my clothes by hand every so often and am probably scoffed at by the more �traditional� Cape Verdean men.
So this is a rich agricultural area, as a result of the volcanic soil and relatively good rain. Right now is the fijon and nbonji harvest, types of beans. I spend lots of time with local women removing beans from the pods. Apples are just coming in, and grapes, pomegranates, and quince just finished. There�s also coffee, tomatoes, potatoes, and other beans. People keep fewer animals here than in my training village on Santiago, but there are chickens, pigeons, cows, pigs, goads, donkeys, and wild Guinea fowl.
This is a big tourist area by Cape Verdean standards (the country is small, around 450,000 people with a landmass equal to Rhode Island, divided amongst ten islands). Oh Kevin, if you read this, Rhode Island is not an island. I live on an island, which is surrounded on all sides by water. That�s what an island is! There are a few restaurants and hostels as well as the winery. I like talking to tourists, apologizing for the last eight years of American politics (Peace Corps is nonpartisan, but volunteers aren�t required to be), etc. I�ve met Germans, Portuguese, Swiss, Austrians, Spaniards, Brits, French, as well as workers from Guinea Conakry and Bissau, Senegal, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. I never know what language to speak to them, and sometimes I just speak Kriolu to make fun of the tourists.
Sorry this has been rater dry; the next ones will be better. So I guess I�ll go through an average day:
Wake up around 6:30 when the birds start chirping and my landlady stirs. Make breakfast, normally PB and J or oatmeal, and coffee. Listen to BBC and do Sudoku or crosswords for awhile. Read Newsweek or a book for awhile. I try to run a bit either before or after lunch. It�s hard with the altitude and I�ve been sick the last few weeks, but am better now. Then I go up the road to the other volunteer�s house, usually getting diverted to help shuck beans or talk. Then Lauren and I chill awhile, talk to people, bounce project ideas back and forth, etc. For lunch it�s usually leftovers, rice and beans (the local staple), some sort of stew, or pasta. Afterwards it�s more of the same until dinner. After dinner I read by candlelight for an hour or two, until I�m tired. I�ve read 11 books so far (�Siddhartha� was the best, �Naked Lunch� the most difficult, probably because Burroughs was strung out on heroin when he wrote it). Finally I blow out the candle, curl up in my sleeping bag, and hit the hay.
I think the best thing I�ve see, so far, aside from the view from the top of the volcano, was a drunk guy in a hockey jersey, cutoff jean shorts, and Timberlands, riding a donkey down the road, slumped to one side, at 10 am apologizing profusely. The night before I found him passed out on the side of the road in the dense fog.

Last Week as a Trainee

É modi? (What’s up?) A week from writing this we swear-in (a few days from revising as I didn’t get a chance to post). I’m excited to end training, as I think most trainees are. It’ll be sad when we spread out to our islands, though it’s probably not a lot different with volunteers in countries on the mainland, given the remoteness of their sites. It’ll be tough to say goodbye to everyone, but we’ll get together for trainings and visits to other islands or the continent (as I plan to do…roundtrip to Dakar is $500ish).

We went to Praia today (last Friday) to the embassy and to see the hospital, pharmacy, Peace Corps office, etc. Leah, our Kriolu instructor Arlindo, and I got awesome Senegalese food and juice made from hibiscus boiled with sugar, also Senegalese. 200$00 CVE for a solid meal isn’t bad (that’s $3 USD). Street food + no stomach problems = awesome. Apparently it’s Ramadan so the Senegalese restaurants were rather deserted, as many Senegalese in Cape Verde are Muslim. Happy Ramadan Ammar!

And speaking of friends from home (I miss you all), I met a Cape Verdean who looked exactly like you, Mary G. Well not exactly, as, well, you’re descended from Europeans and she from Africans, but other than that, mirror images.

Praia has a reputation for being dangerous, but I think if you’re careful it’s okay. It’s like any other big city (but Praia isn’t big…100k-150k). I think Praia’s safer than Dakar, Conakry, Freetown, Accra, etc. Anyway, we’re getting to know it and it’s cool. I was trying to haggle with a Cape Verdean woman over a watch band in the market and she asked how long I’d been in Cape Verde. When I said two months, she said much to my delight that my Kriolu was quite good for having been here such a short time. She did not, however, lower the price. It’s better to haggle with the Senegalese and Guineans and other West Africans.

We often have discussions regarding Cape Verde versus the continent. Most of us assumed we were going to Mozambique when we received nominations to Portuguese-speaking Africa. That assumption kind of symbolizes CV’s relationship with Africa. On a map it’s pretty close, though Europe’s close too. The people look African, but with European blood as well. The language, Kriolu, is a mix of Portuguese and languages from Guinea-Bissau, but is 80% Portuguese. It’s not Africa, it’s not Europe, it’s Cape Verde. Apparently Peace Corps Volunteers from Senegal vacation in CV, but we want to get there. Perhaps the grass is always greener on the other side. Actually, though, the grass is always greener in Senegal since CV gets 10 cm of rain a year.

As for me and everyone who knows me, my heart is with Africa. I will get back to the continent. CV has different challenges than the mainland. It’s unique in that I’ll combine environmental knowledge and passion with business acumen. I’ve warmed to the idea of using business, as being in Africa to try and help is more important to me than escaping business. It’s a change of heart, but I don’t think it puts me any closer to returning to the corporate world. If any fellow Ross alumni read this, sorry about Lehman Bros and Merril-Lynch.

So anyway on the 21st I’m off to the volcano. A current volunteer just moved to the town, so if I want to play Scrabble etc. I won’t have to trek down the mountain or take the three hour ride to São Felipe. I look forward to running on the park’s trails and eating fewer carbs. I will miss my host family.

All right well I think my host mom noticed that the house is using a lot of electricity, but she’s not sure why. So in that case, I shall shut down. I have to enjoy the electricity while I’ve got it though. Perhaps indoor plumbing as well? Thanks for reading this rather stream of consciousness entry. Txau!

N mataba pomba!

The title of this blog says “I killed a pigeon!” Leah’s brother killed one and I killed the second. Afterwards Leah’s sister and I plucked them and watched her mom gut them. We held them tightly by the head and spun the bodies around until their necks broke. I think I’m going to kill one of our chickens soon.

Other than that extreme update, all’s been well. Kriolu is coming along all right. We had a practice test to see at what level we can speak. I made intermediate-mid which is what we need to get commissioned, so I can breathe a sigh of relief. On Fogo I’ll have to learn a slightly different dialect of Kriolu but it’s mostly the same. I hope to pick up Portuguese after I get solid in Kriolu. The volunteer I’ll replace indeed got quite good so I hope to follow suit.

I was sad on Saturday as I missed Michigan’s opening football game for the first time in years. As I write this on Monday night I still don’t know if we beat Utah. All I can do is hope for the best. I’m not sure it’s possible to watch a game live in Cape Verde; perhaps Praia has a bar that gets American TV.

We went to Praia on Friday to visit some various agencies. It was nice to return and see that it’s really quite manageable when you can speak Kriolu. We went to a huge supermarket (by CV standards, so maybe like a smallish Kroger). It was incredibly overwhelming after only seeing mini-markets and the regular market in Assomada. I left with a headache and none of the groceries otherwise unavailable in Assomada and certainly Fogo.

Sunday we did an activity with the village kids. We played duck-duck-goose (or duck-duck-turkey because we didn’t know the word for goose in Kriolu) and then did a project, making picture frames from trash we found in and around Assomada. It went pretty well. It’s amazing how creative some of the kids are. The boys make really intricate cars from discarded tin cans, bottle tops, and wire. It always makes me wonder what kinds of awesome things they could do if put in the right situation. I think it’s important for us to at least tell them they’re smart and creative since they’re relatively ignored by their parents, who are too busy working. Mostly kids are surprised we’d even stop to say hello, let alone compliment them.

Anyway that’s about it here. I’m enjoying myself in the village but look forward to relocating as well. It’ll be tough to say goodbye to the other trainees (or volunteers by then) but the challenge excites me. Thanks for reading and leaving comments. Ti logu (until later).

Uh...post

Well I finally pulled my laptop out and decided to write a blog ahead of time, before getting to the internet cafe. Last time, I plugged my surge protector into the outlet sans converter. I think it might have died. I didn’t realize my adapter is also a surge protector. Good thing I brought my big protector all the way from the US (sarcasm). My host family doesn’t have circuit breakers, so it instead killed all the lights instantly. I guess the system works well though. We have electricity around four hours each night. Other villages don’t have it at all.

Anyway, things are going pretty well. The language is coming along all right. It’s frustrating that though I can communicate my needs well enough, I can’t understand a whole lot Cape Verdeans say to me. Everything’s very one-sided. Most people don’t have the patience to say things three times, more slowly with each repetition, with gestures, alternative vocabulary, etc. It’s still amazing that we can speak as well as we can after only…what six weeks? Seven? I can’t remember. Sometimes time flies but other times it stands still.

In any case, training’s over in four more weeks and then it’s off to…well I don’t know where yet. Either the national park here on Santiago or the one on Fogo. I requested Fogo, as it’s more rural and more African culturally. Chances are good I won’t have electricity either. I requested to not have it. That sounds good to me, as nice as it is to have a working laptop. The northern islands tend to be more European. Fogo is also an active volcano. It erupted in 1995. No one died though, and Mom I promise it won’t erupt during the next two years.

So what else…This is such an intense experience and it seems to us trainees that so much has changed, that it’s weird to think that back home things are pretty much, so it seems, going along more or less the same as when we left. Clearly my English skills have already fallen. Now I know why I took the GRE before I left. Every so often you’ll meet a Nigerian, Liberian, or a Cape Verdean who learned English in the US or in Europe. Since it’s summer break a lot of Cape Verdeans abroad are back on the islands to visit. I guess now they’re starting to head back.

I’m learning a lot of cool things. I wash my clothes by hand in a sink which is basically a washboard mounted on a stand. It’s quite the workout but it also gets clothes incredibly clean. Most people where I live farm, which is inherently messy, but they still dress impeccably.

Anyway, it seems my host mom wants me to go to bed. I can’t say for sure but I should probably call it quits. Time to brush the teeth, get my chamber pot, and hit the hay (not literally, okay, I have a bed. Even though if you know me you know that I wouldn’t care if I didn’t have one). Ti logu (until later).

Pre-Service Training thus far

Bo tardi,

Iºm in Assomada, one of CVºs larger cities right now. We live in villages around the city with host families and train here every so often. PST is really busy so I havenºt had much time to blog. We train for 4-8 hours a day in language mostly but other things as well (health, safety, technical, etc).

I live in a farming village which grows mostly corn and beans. My family (and many others) raise pigs, chickens, goats, and cows. Itºs definitely hard getting adjusted to an entirely new language. Kriolu comes from Portuguese and various African languages from Guinea-Bissau, Senegal, and other West African places. The people are nice and thereºs more of a community feel than in the US. People tend to be friendlier and watch out for one another. It seems like weºve been here forever (not in a bad way) but itºs only been three or four weeks. Itºs amazing how quickly the language is coming.

Uh anyway I need to get better at this blogging thing. If you (if anyone reads this!) have any questions just write a comment and Iºll try to respond next time I do this.

Txau,

Andrew

Departure!

Hey Everyone. We leave for Boston's Logan airport in ten minutes for our flight to Cape Verde. After a quick staging (orientation), my group knows one another fairly well. We cannot wait to start training and eventually serving after nine weeks. Two of the other trainees maintain a blog with tons of pictures, so check them out: http://livingoncrumbs.blogspot.com/ Thanks for all the nice messages.

Introduction

Welcome to my blog. I started this at the urging of friends and family, as I prepare for Peace Corps in Cape Verde, working in Community Development and Environmental Education. I hope to update this fairly regularly once I arrive in Praia July 17, but that depends on my internet access.

For anyone who does not know me, I grew up in East Lansing, MI with my parents and two brothers. I attended the University of Michigan, graduating with a Bachelor's of Business Administration and a minor in the Program in the Environment. I kept busy, serving three years as manager of the men's track team, joining Lord of Light Lutheran Church, and holding the position of Co-Chair of Outreach and Education for the Michigan Students Advocating Recycling (MSTAR) for one semester.

I decided to do Peace Corps for myriad reasons. My parents encouraged volunteer work, practicing what they preached giving their time and talent to East Lansing Public Schools and our congregation, University Lutheran Church. When I got to Michigan I did some volunteer work, mostly as manager. I thought I might want to do something like Peace Corps, Teach for America, or AmeriCorps.

In 2006 I took the incredible opportunity to research in Ghana for a month, under U of M's Global Intercultural Experience for Undergraduates (GIEU). Traveling with 11 students, we tried to develop and implement plastics recycling programs in Accra and Senya-Beraku. I consider it the best four weeks of my life, and the main reason I chose Peace Corps over the other options.

People ask, "Why go abroad when people need so much help here in the US?" Going to Ghana opened my eyes to the new realities. Seeing crippling poverty in person, not on TV or in pictures, hammers it home. I think of walking down an alley along a canal. Within probably 100 meters we saw people drinking the water, washing clothes in it, and defecating in it. This does not happen in the US. I do not want to marginalize the problems faced by millions in the US, or exaggerate living conditions in the developing world, but overall I believe I can do the greatest good with my education overseas. In Power Politics Arundhati Roy put aptly, saying, "once you've seen it, you can't unsee it."

The following summer I took the business school route, doing a marketing internship with Nike in Beaverton, OR. In my interview my future manager asked what I wanted to do after graduation, adding I did not have to say, "work for Nike." I told her I wanted to do Peace Corps, and she hired me nonetheless. I considered it important to give the corporate world a shot, to see if I truly wanted to volunteer 27 months. Nike, while an incredible place to work, reconfirmed my desire to take the road less traveled by Ross School of Business students. I cannot imagine a cooler place to work in corporate America. If I did not feel happy there, no traditional job could satisfy me.

In any case, I cannot wait to board the plane to Praia. I do not know what to expect, not that any future Peace Corps Volunteer (FPCV) does, but I look forward to whatever awaits in Cape Verde. Thank you to my friends and family for your continued support. I love you all.