Nya Gohun Nehengo (“I'm as happy as a clam”[rough translation])

Day Two began abruptly at 6am when the town crier (the Chief's personal loudspeaker) stood in front of my house and demanded, on behalf of the Chief, that everyone get their asses to my house as quickly as possible and begin cleaning it up. Don't worry, it gets more awkward. I joined my neighbors and walked to the Anglican church that my school is affiliated with and sat through the three hour mass only to get to the end when it was mentioned not once, but twice, that the village members should be ashamed of themselves for not cleaning my compound prior to my arrival. Luckily this turned from one of the more uncomfortable situations I've ever been in to one of the most unforgettable- roughly twenty-five or so of my new neighbors came to my house after mass and helped me clean the place up. We weeded, hoed, planted, laughed (I also cried on account of my hands bleeding from “manual labor”), and it was a snapshot in my memory that I will cherish for many many years. Later that day, the carpenter brought my bed over and the tailor turned my lappas (forgot to define those last time- basically just really amazingly designed fabric that people have their dressier clothes made out of) into curtains.

That afternoon, I was leaving my house to walk across town when I saw that my other neighbors, who I had yet to meet, were outside in the front and appeared to have guests. I walked over to introduce myself and it turned out that they were the two brothers and two uncles of my neighbor, and they were getting WASTED on palm wine. Palm wine, they informed me, is the adult beverage of choice in the villages of Sierra Leone. It is tapped from the tree, put in a one gallon jug (costing the equivalent of 50 cents per gallon. Uh oh.), continues to ferment in your stomach (double uh oh), and is affectionately referred to as coming directly “from God to man.” They also shared their meal with me and promised to guide me through Freetown whenever I visit. Needless to say, we had a blast. My neighbor returned shortly thereafter and I had a few more cups of wine with him. What? It would have been rude not to. His name is Francis, he works for an NGO called FORUT, and he is a really wonderful guy. His family is equally as warm and have opened their home to me in every was possible.

Due to exhaustion, I'm going to bullet point out the rest of my time in Bauya thus far:

• my house is rapidly becoming a home. I got shelves for the food storage room, a clothes hanging rack (I'm sure there's a better way to say that), and tomorrow should be getting a table to cook on and a small bench and table. I'm focusing on decorating and organizing my room and the living room first, and then moving to the guest room in a few weeks.
• I've been teaching summer school which has been a great thing to keep me mindful of my overarching goal here- not to have a sweet house, but to help educate the children of Bauya and the surrounding villages.
• Until school starts, my days pretty much consist of waking up, exercising, making breakfast, teaching for an hour, working in the garden (oh yeah, I have a garden- flowers, plants, cacti, corn, okra, greens, two mango trees, a banana tree, and a papaya tree), strolling around the village buying anything available to cook the evening meal, greeting everyone in Bauya (literally), reading in my hammock, then cooking dinner (which takes a while).

My routine is coming together and in the constant effort to remain present and not lose my cookies, I'm basically just taking one day at a time. The other crucial part of maintaining my sanity has been my daily communication with other PCV's. It's mostly on the phone, but a lot of us are also taking this time to visit each other's villages, which has been wonderful- we're all keeping a pretty close eye on each other. As you can see, even though I'm immensely happy and in love with my village, I constantly have to work to maintain emotional stability.

One last little story to illustrate how truly wonderful the people of Sierra Leone are. The day we swore in as Peace Corps Volunteers was also our last day in Bo. I was in town doing some last minute shopping when I saw a man walking down the street wearing an LMU (Loyola Marymount University- the college in LA where all of my friends went, my parents went, my grandfather taught, etc.) t-shirt. I stopped him and confused the hell out of him by explaining all of that, but he got the message that I was extremely happy to see that shirt. He asked for my address and told me he would stop by later to give it to me, which was generous of him to even suggest, but that was certainly the last time I thought I would see him. However, to my surprise and elation, he showed up at my house a couple hours later to give me the shirt. I offered to pay him, but he adamantly refused- the only thing he accepted was a different t-shirt of mine from the States. Just to hammer home the level of generosity that Joseph showed, the part of town I originally saw him in was a solid 45 minute walk away from my house. From the unrivaled hospitality of the people to the awe-inspiring flora, this is a truly magical place in which I constantly find myself counting my blessings.

Until next time (which will be a while because the closest internet to me is a few hours away), Peace and Love!