Archive for March, 2009

In which our intrepid hero gets a feline sidekick

Friday, March 27th, 2009

There is no better reminder that it’s market day and that you seriously need to buy some food than a cat.

As those of you who have been reading the back issues know, I’ve had a bit of a mouse problem here at La Casa del Whiteman. I tried poison, traps, household repair, all to no avail; so finally, I caved and put out a notice to my students that I would like a cat.

Those of you who have owned cats know that kittens are essentially a free resource, and the only variable is time. Therefore, two weeks after I put the word out, I was presented with a cardboard box full of kitten. Terrified, anxious, adorable kitten.

Her name is Frisbee, because the first thing she hid under when released into the wild of my house was my frisbee. She’s been here for about two weeks, and she is most likely the noisiest, most vocal cat I have ever known. She’s a picky eater, which is a pain when you consider that there is no cat food and she eats whatever I eat (who doesn’t like scrambled eggs? seriously!) and she likes to sit on the keyboard of my laptop and crash my computer. I’m actually considering writing a program that will play loud, annoying sounds when more than 4 keys are pressed for any more than 5 seconds.

She’s also catching mice. And she curls up next to me to sleep at night. Which makes me happy.

Frisbee is giving me significant looks right now, and my stomach is perspicaciously growling at me to finish this post and go get some food already. You stay classy, internet.

Luxury is a state of mind

Monday, March 23rd, 2009

It’s been a long time since I last wrote. I can blame travel, work, and illness for a great deal of it, but there’s also the problem of trying to think of new things to send home every week. Nonetheless, I will endeavor to bring more fascinating facts from my dull and mundane life as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

This term has been consumed with lots of traveling, lots of illness, and lots of struggle. The travel portion has been well-documented in previous posts. The illness I’ve been dealing with last week and the week before was most likely giardia, a lovely intestinal parasite that loves to travel around with small children. It brings lots of sulfur-scented gas, bloating, and trips to the latrine. Before the midterm break, I had a small bout with the flu.

Struggle has been with things like bike maintenance, exercise, writing lesson plans, getting enough time to do the things I need to do and the things I want to do, getting funding for more computer parts, and so on. It seems as though things are getting easier as the end of the term approaches, but my internal skeptic says “yeah. right.” We’ll see. I’m definitely due for a vacation away from site and some luxurious self-indulgence.

Speaking of luxury…

One of the interesting things that happens to you when you move to a developing country is that your concept of luxury changes. For example, when I was living in the U.S. I would have never considered Heinz Ketchup to be a luxury item. The same is true for cheese, wine, olives, mayonnaise, green peppers, carrots, lettuce, apples, canned tuna, fruit juice of any kind, automatic washers and dryers, air conditioning, running water, riding in a private car, having your own house, using your own internet connection, or even owning your own computer. Even books are a bit of a luxury here; it’s common for Peace Corps Volunteers to leave a sub-office with a bag full of books simply because they can’t get them anywhere else. For the last 9 months, I’ve not driven anywhere on my own, nor have I used a washer, dryer, dishwasher, or vacuum cleaner; I would probably spend at least a good 10 minutes just staring, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, at any kind of appliance more complicated than a toaster, after which I would finally remark “WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?”

On the other hand, there are things that I would have considered a luxury in the U.S. that are very commonplace here. For example: having students cook, clean, do laundry, or work on your garden/farm is so commonplace that it’s almost weird not to do it. The same is true of tropical fruit: I regularly buy fresh pineapple, papaya, avocado, bananas, and oranges for less money than I’d spend on a cup of coffee in the U.S. Mangoes are so plentiful that people don’t even bother to pick them off the trees after a certain point in the season, and I can get freshly made organic peanut butter for about 50 cents a cup. A great deal of my wardrobe is tailor-made, and I can easily have any other clothes I buy altered to fit better for a small fee. I’ve had two custom patio chairs, a kitchen table, and two end-tables/nightstands made for my house, none of which cost more than $20.

I guess what I’m trying to say is two-fold. My first point is that the concept of luxury is relative, and that anything that provides comfort in relative scarcity will fit the bill. My second point is that it’s really surprising how much you can do without when you put your mind to it.

Alright, time to prepare myself for the dreaded end-of-term exams. This week and next are full of papers, watches, and red pens; after the 3rd, I hope to escape to Kumasi for a few days. Take it easy…