The impact of my placement!

In a effort to share the impact of VSO volunteer's work, my program manager asked me to write a brief statement of some of the work I have done in my placement. I thought I would share these great successes with you too!

I have been helping to build the capacity of inclusive education teachers to transition students with disabilities into the mainstream schools. Through parent awareness and mainstream teacher trainings, 10 students with disabilities will be attending the same school as their siblings in the next school year. A team approach to therapy at the centre. A physiotherapist, community based rehabilitation officers, and special education teacher working with a child with cerebral palsy.

Through networking efforts of the VSO volunteer, for the first time in Madang Province, the Provincial Education Department officially recognized an inclusive education training in the mainstream school. This empowered the resource teachers and motivated them to participate in additional trainings.

In addition, there has been an increase in awareness of the importance of inclusive education and a shift in ownership for the implementation of inclusive education. Trainings in inclusive education have been requested by elementary trainers in comparison to resource teachers approaching schools to offer trainings. People are beginning to request trainings and use the centre as a resource verses a "special" place to send "special" children for "special" services. A wonderful example of a shift in attitudes and beliefs! Elementary teachers only receive 6 weeks of training. I was asked to give a one day training on inclusive education.

Things that make me smile in PNG

Colorful bilums filled with babies and fruit, Lonna learning to talk and asking me “Yu go we?” each time she sees me, Corination Drive on Sundays, children’s faces spilling out of shops with ice cream covering their faces and dripping from their elbows, Sarah at the market, the old man’s big, red smile behind the buai stand on my street, flying foxes, asaro mud men, when the electricity comes back on, Mahi and her wobbly head and big, black eyes, watching children climb coconut trees, Jolanda’s sarcasm, “Yu Tok!”, when I stumble upon a good find in the second hand shops, singsings, skype chats with Dad and Carol, beautiful flowers, telling Roselyn the story of Christiana and spak buai, view of Rai Cos from Madang mainland, smelling Egyptian Goddess oil in the card Lauren sent me, rain trees, when cheese is on sale, Marleen’s obsession with Dolly Parton, watermelons, Shantica’s voice crying out “morning Charlye,” as I walk to work each morning, children jumping from the reef into the sea at Machine Gun Point, pancakes, Albert and Anna’s picture on their fridge of Bush snorting oil, books, the mural at the Creative Self Help of the boy writing with his toes, Vannessa, SP labels on my wall, full moons, cards from Mom, meri dresses, kulau.

Mt. Wilhelm

Sorry its been close to a month since I last posted. I was at a point where I found it challenging to write with an unbiased opinion. After much reflection and an inspiring holiday, I am back! I must apologize for the long entry. I will try to be more proactive in writing shorter stories more freqently.


Seasons
Monday, October20th

I just took a bucket bath for the second day in a row and the view of my tiled ceiling was no where as spectacular as the star filled Zambian sky. Can it even be called a bucket bath if you don’t have enough water to fill the bucket? The rainwater tanks at my compound have run dry. I thought we were in the rainy season, but obviously I was mistaken. PNG has two seasons, rainy and dry, but with global warming it is getting harder to distinguish the two. Seasons are more evident in the market. The avocadoes are sparse and the mangos dangle teasingly from the trees. The watermelons are too big to carry and the tomato fruit, which was my market experiment of the week this week, will be passed on to my neighbors, possibly in exchange for water!

I was mistakenly eager for the rainy season in hopes for cooler weather, but apparently rain comes with humidity. What’s the point of a bath? I am covered in sweat before I have the chance to dry.

In the Highlands it is definitely the rainy season, and much cooler. Last week, Marleen and I hitched a ride with the education team to Kundiawa in Simbu Province. “Chimbu” as it is commonly pronounced, is 2 hours drive west of Goroka, where I went for the Goroka show last month. Simbu Province is known for PNGs tallest mountains, including Mt. Wilhelm at 4509 meters. It is also known for its pigs, coffee, strawberries, and highly temperamental emotions that lead to notorious tribal warfares. With that being said, what would be the point of going to Chimbu if you don’t experience them all?!?! Kate, the Dutch VSO volunteer living in Kundiawa, helped Marleen and I have a true Chimbu experience! Me, Marleen and Kate...post Mt. Wilhelm!!!!

Road Trip…Kundiawa or Bust!
Saturday, October 11th

5 VSO volunteers, 1 driver, 1 guard, 1 education program manager and one 10 seater land cruiser. Cargo pressed against the windows, our knees in our chests. 8 coconuts, 3 watermelons and 300 kms ahead of us.

We left the sweltering humidity of Madang behind us as we passed New Town up the South Coast road past Gum Primary and Smelly Water. Up hills and across one lane bridges. Through pot holes so big you wonder if you can even call them potholes. Dense rainforests, traditional stilt houses, banana trees. Nickel pipelines and logging trucks. Landslides and half roads. 8 bobble heads. One changed tire.

At the turnoff, left to Lae, right to the Highlands, women sit under colorful umbrellas selling mangos. Across the road is a billboard sponsored by the Provincial AIDS council reading, The Beauty of AIDS….100% Avoidable.

As we continued driving inland we enter the Ramu Valley. The Ramu is one of PNG’s great rivers and the broad valley is filled with cattle and sugar cane and is home of the Ramu Sugar Refinery and Coconut Oil Plantation. It is also a major fault zone prone to earthquakes. Also in Ramu is the dam and source of hydro-electric power for Lae, Madang and the Highlands.


The rolling hills beyond the valley appear to be covered in turf, something like a putting green. They reminded me of the Telitubbie hills; I could imagine Tinky Winky and Po skipping along holding hands and singing Eh-Oh! I have been told these mountains are the world’s fast growing mountains as they are along the fault line.

The engine roared in low gear as we inched up the mountain. Winding roads. Cooling air. Amazing lookout over the Ramu Valley. We stopped for diesel in Kainantu (pronounced K-9-2) that is stretched along the highway. This little town has a Wild West feel about it. Close by is the PNG headquarters of SIL, Summer Institute of Linguistics. SIL is an American-founded missionary organization that translates the Bible into PNGs 800+ languages. The Lonely Planet says it’s worth visiting to see “little America” in the midst of PNG! Plus, another volunteer told me about a store there that sells all the favorite American snacks like Snickers and Hershey bars!

We stopped long enough in Goroka to enjoy lunch at the Bird of Paradise Hotel and to empty our bank accounts at the last working ATM before Mt. Wilhelm. I couldn’t resist a stroll through the bilum market. Minus 1 program manager, 1 guard, and 1 driver, we volunteers made the final 2 hour stretch to Kundiawa.

We bought a ring of everlasting flowers to place on our mirror as bilus (decoration) at the Daulo Pass. At 2489 meters, the Daulo Pass has spectacular views, but the road is dangerous. Remains of vehicles can be seen down the mountain side. Pigs roam the road. Rain covers the windshield. 4-wheel drive. Rocky edges, round huts, spirit antennas. Landslides and donated tents as makeshift homes. Fresh, crisp mountain air.

Kundiawa at last! We spilled out of the Cruiser. Stretched our arms through sweatshirts and stuffed our toes into shoes for the first time in months! 360 degrees of rugged mountains!

WaraKalap
Sunday, October 12th
While acclimatizing to the altitude for a day before our attempt at Wilhelm, we trekked to a waterfall just outside Kundiawa. Wara Kalap translates literally to “water jump.” Three white women roaming through small villages attracted quite a bit of attention and before we knew it we had an entourage of at least 15 children. These girls turned out to be very good guides. They knew the mountains and were quite nimble on their bare feet. We climbed to a lookout over where the Wara Chimbu (Simbu River) and Wahgi River meet. Although the rapids are intense, you find Nationals rafting down the rivers. It was a memorable afternoon.

Getting there……..
Monday, October 13th
After searching the blue tarp market for gloves and enjoying real coffee at a proper coffee shop, we found ourselves piled into the back of a truck. Along with 12 other people, we headed up the mountain to Kegsugl, the last village before Mt. Wilhelm. During the wet season (which we were in) the road to Kegsugl closes at times due to dangerous conditions. It’s 57 km along a razorback road that has to be seen to believe. The 4-hour, tedious and body jarring drive is along the edges of the mountains and through high-altitude villages. These people are literally ‘livin’ on the edge!” The views are fantastic and the landscapes dramatic. The people have transformed their steep, rugged countryside into a patchwork of gardens. Up every possible hillside the Chimbu have turned impossible terrain into beautiful vegetable and flower gardens. I was simply amazed by their strength and agility.

This wouldn’t be a proper PNG story if it didn’t include a tale of our truck breaking down. Not exactly sure what happened, my Pisin isn’t exactly fluent, but I believe the driver mistakenly put wiper fluid in the engine! Noken wori, liklik sumting! An hour later we continued our slow climb up the seemingly endless saw-tooth mountains. We passed limestone caves which were used as burial places, roaring rapids, impressive waterfalls and countless pigs. Roofs and fence posts are topped with “spirit anteneas” as Maarten, a Dutch VSO vol called them. These decorative tufts or clumps of dirt and plants are placed around homes for the spirits to talk to each other and hear the village secrets.

Just before dusk we passed the no longer used Kugsugl airstrip and made our way to Camp J.J. We ate a dinner of fresh trout and huddled near the stove to warm our bodies before we crawled into our sleeping bags.

The Summit…..
Tuesday, October 14th

With our bags packed with food and gear and the morning sun warming our faces, we met our guides outside the camp. As we crossed the bridge, our journey to Papua New Guinea’s tallest mountain began! For many, climbing to the summit of Mt Wilhelm is the highlight of their experience in PNG. From the top you can see both coasts. The climb is hard work and most stop over at the Pindaunde Lakes before making the final ascent. Like most, we planned to arrive at the Lakes, camp and start off in the black of early morning to see the sunrise and coasts before the clouds roll in. From the beginning I was a bit skeptical of this plan. I am not a fan of climbing on tracks that are not visible, especially when you add the element of rain. However, I was motivated by the thought of seeing both coasts ….that and overcoming the skeptics who thought I couldn’t make the 4 hour climb to the Lakes, which sit at 3500 meters.

The uneven tree planks placed across the path were wet and slippery. After ten minutes of steady, uphill climbing, we had stripped off our hats and top 3 layers of clothes. The first half of the trek was through dense forest with moss cover trees and singing birds of paradise. Marleen, who always has a song in her head, kept us motivated by singing “Take Your Time, Do It Right” by the SOS Band. When our breathing became heavy and our steps slower I could hear her singing, “You can do baby, do it tonight.” It made me laugh and continue to put one foot in front of the other.

We all appreciated the rest stops along the way. We filled our bottles with fresh mountain water and Kate tossed us candy. Our first lookout point was over the Kegsugl airstrip. The second half of the trek was through a less dense area that reminded me of a Jurassic Park movie. I expected T-Rex to tower over the mountains at any given moment. The fern trees and topography emitted a pre-historic scene.

The last leg of the trek to the Lakes was the steepest and most rugged terrain along a waterfall. By this point my legs were getting tired. My thighs ached each time I lifted them. John, the guide “pulling up the rear,” kept repeating “Wokabut isi” (Walk slowly). I knew the Lakes were the source of the waterfall, not much further to climb.

The view from the top was breathtaking…or was it the altitude, or maybe the climb!?! Either way, I made it to 3500 meters! And then I collapsed and enjoyed the beauty of the lakes with a panoramic view of white waterfalls contrasted against black mountains.

As we sat near the edge of the lake and watched the clouds roll in, Kate shared stories of her first two attempts up Mt. Wilhelm. During her first attempt, she did not make it due to altitude sickness. Less than half way to the summit she began vomiting. She trained for several months before her second attempt. Shit! Maybe I should have thought about training…too late now! She made it to the summit on her second attempt, but several others in her group weren’t as successful. One decided to remain at the Lakes and another nearly fell to his death during the descent. Shit! Maybe I should have taken this a bit more seriously…it’s not too late!

With the clouds came rain and it did not cease. It was very cold, wet, foggy and windy. That night while shivering in my sleeping bag listening to the rain pound the tin roof of the board hut, I made my decision. I decided I had accomplished a big goal by reaching the Lakes and that it would be best if I trained properly before making the final ascent to Mt Wilhelm at 4509 meters. And let’s be honest, the thought of climbing 5 hours in the dark, through the rain with weak, untrained legs was a bit frightening. Mi bai wokabut long Mt Wilhelm narapela taim.

Marleen and Kate made the ascent to the top at sunrise and saw the Lae Coast!

The descent….
October 15th

The bush path was soggy and covered in pine needles; my boots sank with each step. Our ponchos swishing rhythmically with our strides. We returned to Camp JJ in 2 hours. With a bribe of 20kina, the driver agreed to take us down the mountain despite the road conditions. Along the way we stopped to pick fresh strawberries. Marleen was singing the Beatle hit Strawberry Fields Forever.

I felt like I was in a royal parade, waving to the people. At one point we slowed to a rolling stop. People begin running toward the truck. Marleen and I continued waving to our crowd. Things happened fast and I was a bit confused. I thought we were stopping at the village market. The driver started fish tailing. Were we stuck? Were the people running to help push the truck carrying the white women? We continued to wave. The driver sped away slinging mud in their faces. It was then that I realized those weren’t the faces of people who were running to help; they were the faces of tribal warfare carrying bush knives shouting “Fight, Fight!”

At the next village we picked up a woman and two pigs. Pigs are one of the most important things in Highland life. I have heard stories of Highland women nursing piglets, but I had never seen it myself. This woman was interesting. Not only did she keep two piglets in her shirt, she also spoke to the clouds. As we rode along in the back of the truck with our ponchos wrapped around us protecting our half mashed strawberries, this pig woman was throwing her arms in the air pushing the clouds away (similar to the ‘raise the roof’ move). She was spitting some chant in her local dialect which made seem even more magical.

The entire week was spectacular if not magical. I felt like I had a true experience of Chimbu culture complete with mountains, waterfalls, pigs, coffee, strawberries and tribal customs.

My visit to Sier Village

During the school holiday between terms, I visited my friend and wanwok (literally translated as "one work")Roselyn and her two children, Stephanie and Dunstan. It all started with a trip to the market to by cooking bananas, yams and kumu (greens. Next we sat at the water's edge and waited for the boat to take us to the island. I have to admit, this was one of the most scary things I have experienced here in PNG. The small motor boat was overloaded with people and their bags of food from the market. The boat was literally two inches above the water. I counted 26 people. I was certain the boat would sink!


The skipper decided that I needed a tour of the islands and he dropped us off last. The sea was calm between the islands and my fears of capsizing lessened. We slowly puttered from island to island and listened to the skipper's orders to shift our weight to help balance the boat. One by one the passengers would exit the boat and wade through the cyrstal clear water carrying their bags filled with yams, bananas and tinned fish on their heads.

It was refreshing to leave the mainland. I appreciated the peacefulness of the village. I sat on Roselyn's veranda overlooking the sea and wrote letters home to my grandmothers. I sat in the green grass under a mango tree and ate papaya with the women and children of Roselyn's village.
Roselyn is renting her house from a family for 100 kina a week. She struggles to make rent on her salary (it's almost 3 days salary for me). Dunston starting the fire for dinner.

I was surprised by the beauty of this "urban village" as she calls it. Dunston and I searched for fishing bait in the creek. Stephanie and I climbed trees for a fruit she said were cheeries, but they tasted more like plums to me.
The island was filled with colorful flowers and shrubs.
The island was filled with tropical fruit trees (banana, guava, papaya, coconut, buai and mango). We were surrounded by more fruit than we could ever eat. Stephanie and her double hybiscus.

Traditional yam house, the staple food of the islands.

On my next visit, the women are teaching me to row in a traditional canoe! I plan to make many more trips to Sier Island!

All these questions….

Have four months already past? Is it possible that I am beginning to settle in and am able to understand more? Or have I only begun to realize that I know and understand very little? Has my understanding of developmental aid work grown? How have my perceptions changed? Mother Theresa, I understand that the ocean would be less because of that one missing drop, but what happens when our drops evaporate before they even reach the ocean? What change will I effect if I pour my half empty glass in the ocean? Am I thinking this way because I am on the downward slide of the emotional roller coaster that most developmental aid workers go through?

Why has my perception changed? I’ve seen containers of books donated. The disappointment was when the boxes were finally opened they were filled with termites. Clients are waiting for wheelchairs, schools for computers and after months and months of anticipation they finally arrive broken. Workshops are planned, hundreds of workbooks printed, teachers walk for hours from the villages and the facilitator is stuck in Moresby because the flight was cancelled. Computers and sewing machines arrived at a school and were broken within the first day because the users were not appropriately trained. How do the Papua New Guineans respond? Nokem wori (don’t worry), another organization will come tomorrow and bring us a new one.

What are the effects of developmental aid on this country? Have they developed learned helplessness? Have Papua New Guineans been conditioned to think that the white man will always bring cargo? What do they think when they watch one white man after another come in and change the things that the previous white man did before him? Are they learning and applying any new skills? Are they motivated to change? Do they even want change? Are they interested in improving themselves and their country? Do all developing countries face these challenges? Or are these situational circumstances for PNG alone due to the uniqueness of this country?

What will I accomplish during my time here? Will anyone apply the skills I share? Are my expectations too high? How do you measure success? Is it if I truly reach one teacher? Why is VSO asking me to do partnership reviews when I haven’t even had my in-country orientation yet? Is VSO more efficient in other countries? Will I be able to accomplish more or gain more skills if I stay here two years verses one? Can I meet my placement goals in 8 more months? Why don’t I feel connected to PNG? Is it because I am in an urban placement and have limited connection with the most vulnerable people? Why do I feel like a tourist? Should I feel guilty for living the expat lifestyle? Is it bad that I feel like I am on an extended vacation?

These are questions I ask myself everyday. I was once told that finding questions is often times better than finding answers. By asking myself these questions I have decided not to continue my placement beyond one year. PNG is a spectacular country and I am in no hurry to leave. I feel that I will be able to give and take away all that I can in one year; therefore, I have no intentions to stay.

Eastern Highlands-Goroka Show

Tuesday PNG celebrated its 33rd year of independence. Many Papua New Guineans and tourists flock to the Eastern Highlands Province for the Goroka Show. The Goroka Show is considered the best singsing festival in the highlands and it is held annually during the Independence Day weekend. The Lonely Planet says the costumes alone rival Rio de Janeiro at Carnivale time! I have been to the Madang Festival as well as the Divine Word University Cultural Show and by far the Goroka Show was the best yet. Highlanders are skilled in decorating themselves with traditional costumes and elaborate face paintings.


Among my favorite singsing groups are the Asaro Mud Men. These warrior men traditionally cover themselves in grey mud and wear big mud masks. In stark contrast to the high energy dancing and singing of the other singsings, the mud men walked in a slow, deliberate manner. It reminded me of that creepy feeling you get when watching the “bad guy” sneak up on the victim in a scary movie.


Apart from the costumes and endless supplies of woven bilums, we enjoyed traditional mamboo and trekking up the majestic mountains. Bill, a physiotherapist at Goroka Hospital, preparing the mamboo

Of course I had to get my hands into things!




The Highlands, as described by Lonely Planet, are dramatic and beautiful, with wide, fertile valleys, streams and rivers, and seemingly endless, saw-toothed mountains. It is also the most densely populated and agriculturally productive region of PNG. The highlands are made up of a series of valleys and rugged intervening mountains that form the watershed for some of the world’s largest rivers, including the Ramu and Sepik.


Typical Highlands Village hut!
Goroka is the main town of the Eastern Highlands Province as well as the center of PNG’s coffee industry.

.....to be continued when I get more internet time! Life in the developing world eh?!?! I have soooo many wonderful pics that I hope to be able to upload :)

Wantoks

Divine Word University Cultural Show

As an American in PNG, all other Americans here are my wantoks. Wantoks are members of your clan. They may include your family and those persons from where you live. The wantok system plays a significant role in PNG culture.

The system has both positive and negative effects. Wantoks provide for one another and maintain strong clan relationships. A member of the clan that does well for him/herself faces the pressures and strains of countless requests from wantoks. They may ask for money, food, jobs, school fees, place to stay, or even to care for their children. The system becomes complicated and dangerous at times. If a person feels that you have wronged them in anyway, they will often times gather their wantoks for retaliation. And retaliation in PNG usually involves serious injury or death by bush knives. If you happen to hit a dog, person, or a pig with your car you do not stop due to the threat of your life being taken, especially if you hit a pig. A VSO volunteer’s flash drive was stolen. A PNG woman found it and requested a reward. The volunteer gave the woman a cash reward; however, the woman wanted more and threatened to return with her wantoks.

Additionally, this is a problem with positions in government and other job placements. A teacher at the Creative Self Help Centre is frequently truant from work, physically assaulted another teacher, and reportedly stole the centre’s car. But because he has a wantok in an administrative position in the Department of Education, the centre’s coordinator refuses to enforce consequences due to rational fears of retaliation. Last week, a man came to the centre looking for this teacher because he owed him money. The teacher refused to pay him so the man threatened to return to the centre with his wantoks armed with bush knives. Due to the high prevalence of clan fighting often times resulting in death, these threats are not taken lightly.

As I said, the wantok system has positive aspects as well. If you are ever in need you know that your wontoks are there for you. Being so far from home it is comforting to be able to speak to wantoks. I feel a sense of familiarity, connection and understanding. Each time a white person comes over my neighbor asks “Em wantok bilong yu?” (Is she/he from your clan?) Having wantoks is important. I have met several of my wantoks here in Madang. On my birthday, Heidi and Jim, who came to PNG with Peace Corps years ago, gave me beautiful flowers from their botanical garden. A VSO volunteer, Pam, who works on KarKar Island met a group of Stanford University students who were there teaching English during their summer break. They were planning to visit Madang for a few weeks before heading back to the States, so Pam made the wantok connection. While I was in Lae, Jessica and Dani stayed in my apartment. That’s what wantoks do for one another!

I was in Lae for a workshop held by the special education department targeting the country’s “new” curriculum reform, Outcomes-Based Education (OBE). I use quotations around the word new because OBE was introduced at the National level several years ago; however, as generally so in developing countries, the reform policy has not yet reached the local level. Lae is in Morobe Province, which is described by the Lonely Planet as “the industrial heart of PNG and the gateway to the Highlands.” Lae is PNG’s second largest city after the capital Port Moresby. Although Lae is an industrial base surrounded by container ships and known to most as “rainy Lae” or “pothole Lae,” the city is laid out around beautiful Botanical Gardens. It also boasts one of the best places in PNG to see wildlife without trekking up mountains through the dense bush. While visiting the Rainforest Habitat, I saw tree kangaroos, salt water crocodiles, birds of paradise, and the world’s largest pigeon. Among my favorite birds was a parrot who, when approached, would say, “Give me kaikai, give me kaikai.” (Kaikai is food in the Pidgin language). I also saw one of PNG’s most dangerous creatures, the cassowary. Don’t let the beauty of these huge birds, similar to ostriches, fool you. They have been known to rip through people’s rib cages with their razor sharp talons.

The Rainforest Habitat in Lae. Jolly and Bernard, 2 VSO physiotherapists and Martin, who works for NOPS National Orthopedic and Prosthetics Services. Martin made his own prosthesis and drove us all around "Rainy Lae."
The World's Largest Pigeon


I met a bigpela (important) wantok last weekend at Divine Word University’s Cultural Show. While walking through the crowds of Papua New Guineans performing their traditional singsings, I met the American Ambassador, Leslie Rowe. We stood under my umbrella and spoke over the sounds of drumming and singing about my work here as well as my experience in Zambia with the Peace Corps. Her husband was a Peace Corps volunteer and they are advocating for Peace Corps to return to PNG. We were unable to chat a length as we were quickly pushed aside by a group of marching Highlanders with their faces painted as elaborately as the colorful bird of paradise feathers on their heads.

Thanks to the column I write in my hometown newspaper, The Robertson County Times, I met another wantok yesterday. I was shopping for bicycles at Papindo department store. Well, actually it was my third visit to Papindo to get a bike. Each day I left with various promises. Yes, we will make the fitting adjustments and have it for you by tomorrow. Yes, we will replace the bent rims. The third day, I gave up and took matters into my own hands. While the three customer service guys and I were removing the bikes one by one from the wall to find the one that had the least bent rims, a woman approached me. “Excuse me, do you know a (insert botched pronunciation of Charlye here) from Tennessee?” I guess it is a small world after all. This wontok is from Springfield! Her mother read my column in the paper and sent it to her. Who would have ever thought that I would meet someone from Springfield in Papua New Guinea? She is here with her family as missionaries. They will be living in the world’s largest missionary compound for 4 years.

Mi got plenti wantoks bilong mi long Madang! Mi hammamas tru! (I have a lot of wantoks here in Madang! I am very happy!)

I would like to give a shout out to a few of my wantoks back home. Thanks Mom, I received your package filled with goodies (only 2 weeks shipping time, a lot faster than in Zambia eh?). Uncle Mark, I was so excited when I read your comment on this blog! It really means a lot to me that you are taking the time to read and letting me know you are thinking of me. I am thinking of you too and I hope you are taking care of yourself. Dre, what would I do without our weekly gchats? You really help me stay connected to real life back home and remind me of who I am! And to everyone who has sent emails, cards and who have commented on this blog, thank you! You help to keep a smile on my face on the days that aren't filled with sunshine and beaches :)