Its official!!!

Swearing In… (check out the photos to the right)

The morning of swearing in, I woke early and made a little sign that read, “Congratulations on making it so far, You are dynamic.” I hurried into the breakfast room before people arrived and placed it next to the jar of jam for everyone to read. I was filled with a sense of excitement mixed with gratitude and love.
We sat around drinking coffee and tea and slowly everyone drifted to their rooms to dress for the big event!
Everyone emerged around 9:30 looking spectacular in their traditional Ghanaian dress, a gift from homestay. We took so many pictures!
Then, the brass band began and we all marched into the courtyard and circled, finding our seats and waving at our homestay families.
We stood, hands over our hearts, singing the National Anthem. I’ve never felt so proud to be an American. I love my country, with all its faults and all its beauty, with its national monuments and national parks and canyons and rivers and fields of farmland, its crazy politics and big cities, its poverty and wealth and its FREEDOM!!! I’ve never loved America the way I do now. My eyes filled with tears and my arms with chills as I listened to our anthem and all of our soft voices singing. Then, they played Ghana’s anthem. Ghana, my home away from home for this chapter of my life.
Speeches were given, skits, language songs and proverbs, certificates were handed to all volunteers and all homestay families; it was a full and wondrous celebration. Then we ate lunch, took more pictures, and said farewell to the families.
That night, we swam in the pool and sang cheesy American songs at the top of our lungs, danced and laughed and cheered each other on to our new lives here in Ghana.
I came here with no intention of connecting to those in my training group and now I walk away with 42 new friends that I’ve grown so close to in this short time.
We have a bond that connects us in a way that will last a lifetime.

ET-ing…

Early termination. At this point, we’ve lost 6 of the original 48 trainees, a high number for this early stage of the game. If the trend continues in the normal pattern, we will lose 6 more in the next 6 months.
I have empathized with each person and been pretty sad for a couple of them, but honestly, I have not felt the tiniest urge to leave or doubt about being here.
Even though I don’t always love being here, there’s nothing telling me that I should be anywhere else.
I was thinking about emotions yesterday and how at any given moment, the way I feel seems how I’ve always felt and how I’ll always feel. When I’m happy, I can’t imagine being sad. When I’m full, I can’t imagine being hungry. When I’m in love, I can’t imagine being heartbroken. But it will always change, so I’m amused at how surprised I am when the change occurs and I quickly abandon the old feeling for the new, leaving the old in the dust.

Fuller Falls…

Yesterday, I sat atop a roaring water fall today and watched two dragon flies chase each other through the spray. The water rushed around my legs. The sun warmed my skin, my face, my eye lids. I noticed a rainbow rounding the water that was flowing over the edge. Amazing. Another precious moment. Another day that feels like a dream.
I followed my two friends over the rocks. We climbed in silence, one behind the other, communicating through hands and eyes because the water roared so loud, talking was impossible.
We stood behind a veil of water, the three of us amazed by the white sheets cascading over black rock. We climbed a tree growing from the edge of the rocks, to mount the final fall. It is here we sat, three in a row, legs dangling over the edge, looking down at the three water falls we’d scaled to reach this final perch.
I froze the image in my mind, a perfect memory of paradise that I hope never fades.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Under the Weather…

Recently, I took my malaria medicine on an empty stomach and got really sick, a mistake I won’t make again. I felt like a little man lit a match inside my stomach, and then began doing kickboxing against my insides. It was terrible and I had to spend the night in the infirmary. I ran fever and slept for nearly 16 hours. Next day, I woke feeling much better, but it’s been hard to stomach food since. Oh, well, hopefully Thanksgiving will change that.

Final Exams!!!

Monday and Wednesday, I took my final examinations for Water Sanitation and Language. We were fortunate that our trainer collected a very lengthy study guide and counted that as our exam for Water Sanitation.
Language was different. We were interviewed orally and recorded for accuracy. We were graded by outside testers who are certified to test in foreign languages. I did really well. I even surprised my trainer by learning how to prepare my favorite Ghanaian dish and explaining it in Dagaare. He was so happy! I’ve really enjoyed learning the language and I’ve surpassed my own expectations and what I thought to be my limits. It feels so good to be finished with training.

Thanksgiving at the Dery…

To all who read this, Happy Thanksgiving, it was wonderful for me this year. We were given Thursday off to celebrate Thanksgiving and it was an exceptional celebration. We rented the Dery and purchased a turkey with a little extra money we had left over from our stay in Philadelphia. I want to especially thank Gray for organizing everything, Terri, Joe, and Janet for cooking the turkey and Janet for the blood shed (a small yet serious slice to the thumb). Everyone prepared a dish and brought it over, we lined up tables long enough to seat all 43 of us, plus the trainers. It was spectacular.

I think some trainees’ parents were pretty sad or worried about their children being stuck in Africa while everyone is gathered together back in America, but please know that we had a beautiful feast and I don’t know of a single person that didn’t want to be in Ghana that day. There was so much unity, love, gratitude and laughter shared at our little celebration. I’m still glowing from all that was.

The Monastery

Today, I traveled to a Monastery with 3 amazing people. We sat in this giant archway overlooking a cliff, talking and sharing about ourselves. It was relaxing and beautiful and as we rode out to the location, I thought that it couldn’t possibly be by coincidence that the four of us were traveling together, as nothing ever is by mistake. I smiled to myself and took a deep breath, thanking God for the moment and the freedom and the opportunity. We spent the afternoon laying across these rocks, looking out over the cliff and each person contentedly expressed their feelings about being here in Africa.

Also, at the Monastery, I bought homemade jam, and saw beautifully carved wooden furniture. We sat in the library and looked at all of the books housed there. The monks were so kind and hospitable. Walking the halls of the monastery, I felt a peaceful presence. Please look at the pictures posted. The puppy belongs to my friend. Many people have taken puppies as their pets and they run all over and bite and fall down and roll over each other, its so cute.

Training is Ending…

Today is the last day of homestay and the last night I will spend in Forikrom. Training is ending and we will soon begin the job we were each brought here to do. Tomorrow morning, I move out of this room and into the Dery Hotel for four nights. Tuesday at 10 am, I will be sworn in as an official Volunteer of the United States Peace Corps. I am so proud and so exhausted. If it all ended today, I have experienced more that I’d hoped or planned. It’s amazing to think that all beyond this moment is lagniappe (French for bonus). Pretty amazing. Yesterday, on Thanksgiving, my shirt read “the world is pretty amazing” and it is. It completely is.

Last thought…

Two nights ago, I opened The Alchemist, one of my all time favorite books, and read the line where the Alchemist tells Santiago that when the heart desires something, the entire Universe conspires to make it happen. So much of my courage to pursue this dream of traveling and helping others, came as a result of reading that beautiful story. It warmed me to recall that sentence and the truth that accompanies it. I feel as though this is exactly where I belong today.

All my love, Erica

Care packages and mail

Ok, many of you have asked if I need anything and until now, I've said no, but truth be told, there are things I'd love to have receive here.


Trail mix
Raw Almonds
Castile's Pure Soap in Almond or Lavender
Tea, herbal or green or anything yummy that smells good
Lentils
Spices (cummin, curry, chilli powder, etc.)
Magazines (any kind, girlie, architecture, design)
Chlorophyll (if you don't know what this is, please don't worry yourself)
Quinoa (again,if you don't know what this is, please don't worry yourself)
There's one other thing that is a little pricey ($18), its the oil I wear as perfume, its from Bath Junkie and the scent is called Pikaki. I love it so much and this would make a great Christmas present if anyone wanted to send one. Just go in and ask for that scent in an oil roller.
Letters and post cards of course

Best way to send things are in padded envelopes and be sure to put the worth as being UNDER $5.

Send all mail to

Erica Thibodeaux/ PCV
P O Box 523
Wa, Upper West Region, Ghana

I love you all and thank you so much. Sometimes I have a hard time asking, but I'm getting better.

Emotions like rapid fire, please, put down your weapon

11.11.07

I wake to the phone, its my mom trying to get through. Finally, we’re talking and she tells me that my step mother has died. I can’t get good reception on the phone and the call drops a few times. I can’t sleep that night, nor for the next few. But this night is the worst. The village is quiet and dark and my host family is asleep and I don’t know who to tell and the phone isn’t working and I feel this overwhelming urge to just drive with the windows down and music playing and just go away to somewhere else. I feel restless but try to sleep, try to read and finally I sit down and begin to write. I begin with a letter to my dad and end with an entry in my journal about my step mom.

My dad certainly lost his best friend, in fact, the best friend I’ve ever known him to have. My dad is pretty unique and not the easiest person to love, though he is very loving as a father. Susan came along and fell very much in love with him. She taught him what home meant. She gave him his very own family, something he’d been missing for a long time, with homemade meals and laughing and staying up playing cards and inside jokes and common interests and hobbies. They were a team. He took her to the same restaurant every Saturday night and then out to coffee or what have you, on their motorcycles. They each made little sense in this world and often found themselves meeting adversity, then they found each other and it all just worked. I feared him losing her, though I imagined it to be at 70 something, not 50, because I didn’t want to witness that loss for him.
The days following, I had no contact with my family and I felt constant angst. Being so far away, not knowing what was happening and if my dad was ok, nearly broke me. I realized that I kept anticipating a phone call with the same news about my father. This feeling loomed over me for two days and I couldn’t concentrate and honestly, I didn’t even realize I was anticipating any of this, it was just within me, stirring up emotion. I finally spoke with my dad, two days later and, though very emotional, he’s going to be ok.
Many people asked if I was going to return home. I felt torn each time I was asked, but inside, it did not feel like the correct action. My dad will be fine and my rushing home will not do anyone any good, including myself. I’ve only recently learned how to allow my family members to walk their own journey without needless worry and interference from me. I don’t think it is by accident that I am so far from him, though it has been hard.
I have been meditating in the early morning hours, sitting in my bed in the dark, before everyone gets up. I have meditated for my father since this happened, imagining him sitting crossed-legged in front of me. In my mind, I place my hand on his heart and tell him all is well and that he is going to be fine. I feel like my intention will reach him somehow.

Life in Forikrom and training did not stop for my loss and grief, instead it seemed to speed up this week due to Counterpart workshop. Each trainees’ counterpart/ supervisor came to Techiman for a two day workshop. Mine is Peter who works for the District Assembly in Jirapa and he’s awesome. I was so nervous and then listening to some of the other supervisors made me a bit uncomfortable. A few seemed over bearing and some unfriendly, but not Peter. He’s so nice and assertive and speaks nice English and doesn’t hover over me, he just let me be and also, he organized everything so well that our travel to Jirapa was smooth and easy and I felt very comfortable. So this leads me to…

Jirapa!!! I’m here and I love it. I Am Home. I really am. This place feels good. The people are friendly, its not too big or too small. There’s a lot of work for me to do, so it won’t be as slow as a village or as fast as America (by a long shot). I arrived on Friday afternoon. The trip was fine though it included an hour long stop to replace a radiator part (of course it did, this is Ghana), where we all waited outside in the sun, milling around greeting the locals in the tiny little town we pulled over in.

We finally made it and I walked into my new home, with its adorable central courtyard and two bedrooms and three fans!! and I felt like I was home. I’m not going to take pictures until I move in December and paint and decorate. I’m sorry for the delay, but for those who know me, you know I’m particular about the details of my space and I want it to be spectacular when you see it. So, until then, I’ll describe the layout: you enter through the kitchen, which is one long counter top and a walk-in storage closet/ pantry. This opens into the living room, a large room with a sofa and two chairs and a little fridge. From the living room, you enter the courtyard, which is totally enclosed and private enough for me to shower out there when it rains… from the courtyard you can enter both bedrooms, the toilet closet (with a toilet!!!!) and the shower (which works as a shower in the mornings when there’s running water.) At night, I take a bucket bath by candle light since there’s no light outside and I love it, its so romantic and sweet and cozy. I have a huge room with a screen door!!! And a full bed with a good mattress. (the mattress I’ve been sleeping on at homestay is so painful I feel like I can only handle a few more weeks before I do some real damage to my poor back) but no worries now, someone before me had a bad back, so they got a good mattress and now I have it!! How do these things happen, I ask? I don’t know, but I’m so grateful.

I will work with the District Assembly, a gov’t agency, the Water/ Sanitation Board, People Living with HIV/ AIDS group, the Gerasie Women’s Bakery, and then teaching health and sanitation in schools. I think this is all right now. It changes and new things come and others end, so it is pretty organic in its growth. I will spend the first three months becoming acquainted with the town and its needs. I’m lucky that I work with the District Assembly because it gives me a place to start each day. I can go there at 9 every morning and find out if anyone needs my help. I like having somewhere to go and begin my workday. I’ve been becoming acquainted with everyone that the volunteer before me has worked with. It’s been overwhelming and part of me became fearful that I won’t be able to do this. But I’m taking deep breathes and putting one foot in front of the other and just suiting up and showing up. It worked for homestay, where I felt scared to go home the first week I lived there. and it worked for training, each time they asked us to do something in the community and I was terrified. (in fact, my homestay family called me today to check on me, how sweet they are!) So, I will have my work cut out for me and I’m excited about it. In order to meet people and feel a part of, I attended church this morning at Assemblies of God Church (where they’ve abbreviated their name to read Ass. Of God, on everything, including their sign, making me smile and giggle early this morning). It’s a Pentecostal church started by some American missionaries but I couldn’t get a straight answer on how long they’ve been here. The only disappointing thing is that the entire message was about money and what you should do with it, which in this case was: Give it all to the church. I looked around at the families with malnourished children, unable to disguise their lightened skin and discolored hair, wondering where their money would come from, wondering if they have any idea whatsoever that they aren’t feeding their children properly. The singing and dancing was nice, had a great feel to it, great energy. Today was also market day, so I went to Market and bought vegetables and groceries and really enjoyed myself. Everyone is really nice here and since I’m the only white person who lives here, I certainly get a lot of attention. Jirapa is used to volunteers, the first US expats began visiting Jirapa in 1929. They were Catholic Missionaries who brought schools here, so, no ones really shocked by my presence, just curious. Also, I live two doors down from my counterpart and in close proximity to several others that I’ll be working with .

Then I returned home, made dinner and now I’m sitting in my wonderful bed, beneath a much loved fan, writing this account. I will be here two more days, then I will return to Forikrom for three weeks of training for my exams, and Swearing-In ceremony and will return to my new home at the turn of December. Life is good. There is much to be grateful for.

11.12.07 all alone

Well, Jenelle has gone and officially turned the site over to me. I’m alone here in the house. This morning, I went to the District Assembly to meet everyone. I rode my bike, greeting everyone as I passed by. Lots of bikes here, no cars really, just big trucks occasionally and motor bikes. Its great, we’re all moving at this retirement home pace rather than faster than the mind can process, which is what it feels like in a car. Even the trucks go slow in Jirapa. I’m so accustomed to moving quickly I ride my bike faster than everyone else. I guess I’m still learning to slow down. I spent the after noon reading and doing laundry, made dinner and listened to some music. I wanted this time to myself so deeply over the past 8 weeks. So now I’ve had it and I’m over it and on to other things.

New info: Internet only works here sometime and now is not one of those times. The last time it worked was April. Supposedly, they are re-wiring the building and are brining back the internet, but this is Ghana and there’s no way of telling when or if that will ever happen

Tomorrow, I’m getting up early and going to the junction (the center of town where the two main roads meet) and make friends with the person who owns the tea stand. What better way to spend the morning than drinking yummy, hot tea with milk and listening to the lastest gossip. Don’t know if I’ll understand much, but I love people and I love to start my day with people AND hot tea! Then I’m headed to the hospital to meet a lady I’m to work with there. Can’t say enough how grateful I am. Don’t get me wrong, quite often since my arrival in Africa, I have these reprieves in the day where I shake my head and remember that I’m here. Sometimes its as though I’ve always known this place and sometimes I long for familiarity with a terrible ache in my chest. So I close with a blessing to all who are reading this tonight. Please remember how amazing your life is and do what makes your soul shine.

National Lampoon's Monkey Sanctuary

Ok, so I set out one Sunday with a group of 6 to visit this monkey sanctuary. We all met at the big station in Techiman and began bargaining for a ride. Now, taxis here are pretty small, 4 door hatchbacks. The hatch is called the boot and its big enough to hold some bags, maybe a speaker and if your lucky, a small passenger, provided they sit with their legs extended and there shoulders sideways, so the door closes. Well, we’re having trouble convincing a driver to take us all in one taxi and we can’t get a good price and you really must picture 6 Americans and nearly 15 Ghanaian taxi drivers, yelling, each wanting only to explain. I just stood there watching, shaking my head wondering how I got here again. Finally, a young guy agreed to take us all the way there, no stopping and exchanging, hooray, we all get in, me in the boot, wow its little back there and not cushioned, but hey he’s bringing us, So, let’s go! Its looking good, the sun is starting to come out, everyone’s smiling.
Then we turn off the pavement, hmmm, I realize, this ride is going to be pretty painful sitting here in the boot, but hey, no big deal, I can hang, we’re in Ghana, just go with it right? Oh, what’s that, a tree has fallen in the middle of the bush path we’re driving on, oh and its going to take all day to hand saw it, wow, maybe someone’s trying to tell us something. Seems as though we should reconsider, what do you think guys? Oh, no no no, the taxi driver, who looks to be about 17, will find a way around. Ok, just laugh Erica, just laugh. So we turn around and take a different bush path, nearly drive into a large, randomly placed concrete culvert but miraculously, we do manage to somehow bypass the tree and again, we’re in route. The road is terrible and I’m bouncing around in the boot with an enormous speaker bumping into me, waving at every Ghanaian that we drive past, smiling as big as I can just to see how many will wave back and would you believe, each and every single one waved back, almost surprised to see me sitting back there. I couldn’t stop laughing, it went like this. Drive pass Ghanaian pedestrian, smile and wave until they look at me, witness their surprise upon noticing that there’s a white woman in the boot waving and smiling and then glee would over take them and they’d be smiling and waving as well. It was a great way to make the ride bearable.
At some point on this ride, we all begin to sweat something equivalent to buckets of perspiration and it is at this time we realize, that the windows do not roll down. It is sooo hot in a little hatchback carrying 6 Americans and 1 Ghanaian at 10 am in West Africa with the sun beating down onto us through the windows. It becomes so hot that for part of this oh-so-bumpy ride, we actually begin to hold the doors open while moving just to get a little air flow. We drive for an hour and a half and surprisingly find the monkey sanctuary after stopping 7 times, once in the bush to ask small children who just looked at us and pointed down the road ( I guess they get a lot of lost white people looking for this place, it is listed on Lonely Planet Ghana). So we arrive and find out its 4 bucks to get in (that’s two days pay and we’ve just paid one day’s pay to get there, and another will be paid to get home, provided we can convince the driver to stay and wait for us since we realize we’ve seen no other vehicles coming or going since we set out on this path and we might possibly be stranded out in the bush with no phones and no way home). Yes! He will stay and wait for us, provided we pay extra. So, we pay everyone and the guide shows up. We set out and walk into the forest, stopping to notice interesting trees and plants and oh what ‘s this, a monkey graveyard, complete with painted wooden markers and all. Suddenly, we’re told to look up and far off in the distant tree tops, I can see four monkeys sitting in the trees. Hmmm, I hope we can get a little closer, even the telephoto lens I brought today isn’t going to get those guys. Well, we get a bit closer at one point, but all in all, we walked the distance of a New York City block and then all of sudden the guide was mumbling something and waved good-bye. That was it, one hour, far away monkeys and 8 dollars later and we’re back at the taxi and it won’t start. We all put down our bags and push it on to higher ground, then the driver gets in and we begin pushing, it takes off and starts! Then it dies when he stops to let us in. Ok, lets try again. This time, everyone in the car, and the driver pushes and jumps in as it goes down the hill… Yes! Its running, he’s in, we’re in, and we’re on our way. Well, since he’s so nervous the car might stop, he doesn’t really go into 1st gear, so we are zooming along on this bumpy bumpy bumpy bush path, not slowing down, continuously bottoming out and at one point, I thought we blew out the tires we hit the ground so hard. I am bouncing around in the boot so much and that I can’t even see the back window, much less wave at anyone. This time, however, the windows are miraculously down, hooray! We drive another hour and half back to the station, with our brains rattled senselessly. When we arrive we are covered, head to toe, in red dust. We get out looking like we were drug behind the car rather than being passengers. All the Ghanaians are staring at us. (they are big on cleanliness). One nice man begins wiping me down with a rag but he starts with my rear and it surprises me so much that I yell before turning around to see a little elderly man standing behind me with a look of terror and fear because he thought he was helping me. (I felt terrible, but so confused and again, just stood there shaking my head trying to make sense of the whole trip.) All we needed was Chevy Chase and a dead granny and we’d be selling this story. I am posting the pictures.

Enlightenment in the bush...

10/27/07 Oh, tonight is beautiful… my host brother and sister, ages 10 and 4 and I are sitting on the porch, listening to the rain pounding on the tin roof, with Jack Johnson crooning through my tiny travel speakers. I have just given them paper and pencils to draw and they are so happy. They have the greatest imaginations.
For the past few evenings, I have been playing Mancala with my 10 year old brother. We have so much fun; the whole family sits together, we usually laugh and I don’t even know why because I’m never sure of what they’re saying, but you can’t help but laugh along with them. See, I’m learning a different language than what is spoken here, so I only learned the basics to survive, which means I’m in the dark a lot at home. I’d imagine that I’m usually on the same page as the four year old, we both are getting about 5% of what is said and are always laughing just because.
One surprising thing that will leave most of my girlfriends with children gasping, is how unsupervised the children are in Ghana. Hannah (4) just runs around the village with all the other small smalls (little children), mostly toddlers. They’re all alone but with a thousand eyes on them at the same time. Once, I came home and Hannah had a machete and an enormous kitchen knife, one in each fist, and was banging the dirt with both of them. Her friends, who are two and three years old, just watching, nearby. I stopped, dead in my tracks and just watched, stunned, shaking my head. I almost screamed out for her to stop, but realized I’d probably do more damage stunning her, than if she just continued on as she was. Its hard to wrap my brain around some of these things. The 10 year old is basically totally on his own to romp around the village as he chooses. Who knows where he goes or what he does, its beyond me- I’m guessing he has some pretty good adventures.
Tonight, I was planning to cook for my family, but I couldn’t buy all of the ingredients, so I now have to wait until next Saturday. The syrup was far more expensive than I had planned and I can’t serve French toast without syrup, it’s the best part. I’m nervous about this endeavor because I have to cook it over a coal fire stove. I’m sure the experience will end up on here, for your enjoyment, at a later date.

10/30/07 I am no longer skeptical about anyone I meet, frankly because for over one year, every being I have encountered has been simply amazing. Could this be perception, or is it that I’ve entered some sacred place? Ha ha... Maybe both, none the less, I am still surprised and delighted by this simple, beautiful truth. I realized sometime last night while reading Eat, Pray, Love, which I highly suggest, especially if you’ve ever related to me at all. In fact, if you so, you will gobble this book up and savor every word, pausing only to silently cheer on the author on her trip of self discovery. Ok, so I realized that all of my relationships are a direct result of how I how I view myself. If I love myself and I think I’m doing the best I can, I pretty much think exactly the same about you. Likewise, if I think I’m a loser and I think I’m ugly and I’m obsessed with negativity of what I’m not doing correctly or not getting out of life, then that’s how I’ll see you. AND treat you, no matter how much I love you. Example, when I was a little girl, I hated going to school because I had terrible fear and anxiety. I was scared to death to speak, I thought everyone hated me, felt inferior, I could carry on and on but you get the point. Well, everyday, when my tired, single mother walked through the door, I’d greet her in the most unkind way, almost barking at her, what’s for dinner? My tone so full of disgust, as though she'd been lounging around all day instead of teaching then tutoring right up until that very moment. This wasn’t because I hated her, it was because I hated me. I hated life, really. Keeping this in mind, leads me to another realization, the only thing I can do to insure that my relationships remain healthy, at least on my part, is to love who I am. Just to love all the parts of me and then send that love outward.
I’m still chanting Namaste and its working. In fact, since I wrote about Techiman, everything’s changed. I look forward to my two hour commute. Now, I greet everyone! One day, some children asked my name and now, every evening, on my way home, as I near the station, this entire family sits on their porch chanting, Erica! Erica! But it sounds like, Air-reee-cah! Air-reee-cah! It’s so funny and I love it.
I love my host family, and I know they love me, even though we will never utter these words to each other. I suppose there is no need to say it. Today we traveled to a community and spent time at an orphanage for children abandoned by AIDS. Everyone there was so positive and strong and full of integrity. Here, in the Peace Corps, no matter what your job is, you must also educate about HIV/AIDS. Most people in Ghana do not believe the facts, so many people die and never know they have it. We also visited a wonderful compound/ playland for children who are mentally handicapped. This place is run by a Dutch woman, and Bob, her Jewish husband from Chicago. Quite a funny guy, kept reminding me of a round, boisterous Woody Allen. This place is amazing, containing everything a child could want, pool, games, toys, art, flags, grass to run around in, and tons of love. I love this couple just for creating this place. A group of us are going back on a weekend to spend more time. While I was thiere, this frail little boy with a nose that was running all over his face and hands just ran up, dancing and jumped on my lap. I was startled at first, but then I thought, Hi God, and talked to Him to whole time I held this little boy. It was remarkable, completely remarkable.

11/03/07 Here's a picture of the French Toast that I made for the trainers, in preparation for the meal I'll cook for my family, there will be more pics to come of this day, but here's one for now. It was so amazingly delicious. More sugar than I've eaten in a long, long time. And yes, folks, that's homemade chocolate syrup...