God Don't Make Mistakes

It’s hard to admit, but honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Since I first found out that Peace Corps would be closing its Cape Verde Program later this year, I have been through too many emotional and psychological stages to count. At first, I was cynically unimpressed with the decision. Then I was indignant and pissed off. After a few weeks of venting and a cooling off period, I began to refocus myself on the decision at hand: whether or not to transfer.

Now that I’ve made the decision to move to Mali in June, I find myself in a surprising state of mind: happiness. With all due love and respect to everyone and everything that I’ll leaving behind in Cape Verde, I wouldn’t change things if I could... which is convenient, because I can’t. There’s probably a few shrinks out there that would argue that this attitude is just my psychological defense mechanism for coping with a potentially traumatic experience. So be it—whatever works. I don’t believe in predestination, but I'm a big fan of the expression, "God don't make mistakes!" More importantly, I don’t believe in reverse time travel, regrets, or woulda-shoulda-coulda’s. Once something is done, it’s done.

Since making my decision, I have been more at peace with my service in Cape Verde than I ever have since arriving last summer. Surprisingly, I have hardly thought about Mali since writing my last post. Instead, I’ve found it so much easier to stay present and focused on making the most of last three months here. Luckily, there’s been a few things to make the present that much sweeter. Sometimes it takes a visitor or two (or more) to help you appreciate all the amazing things that you have around you. Fortunately, the last few weeks have brought some of the best visitors a boy could ever ask for. The head count during Carnaval included out of town guests from Washington, DC, Senegal, The Gambia, and the Cape Verdean islands of Santo Antão, Boavista, and Santiago. I never blogged about Carnaval because when the dust settled, I had other things on my mind. So, instead of rehashing the experience, I just want to share a few pics.

If you are interested in what Carnaval actually looked and felt like (as opposed to me and folks partying), then you HAVE to visit my friend's photo-blog. Bob Toomy is a fellow volunteer here in Mindelo, and among many other things, he is an amazing photographer. Here's a little sample:

After Carnaval I headed to the main island, Santiago, to hang out for a few days before my Dad and Lita landed. I only meant to visit Cidade Velha for a few hours, but two days later I was still trying to pry myself away from my new favorite spot in the country.

 

Then I was blessed with a cross-Atlantic visit from the family, which could not have come at a better time. Having them in town was a great excuse to visit some great places and great people...

Praia...

Assomada, and my host family in Fonte Lima...

 

Orgãos...

Cidade Velha (again)...

One highlight was my first ferry adventure to Santo Antão. All I can say is, “Damn, that was some good grogue and cheese!” I’m looking forward to working in a longer visit to the island before I move.

 

Earlier this week I handed in my formal letter of “resignation” to my supervisor and counterparts at work. As always, they are behind me, and support my decision completely. Hopefully, I can make my last three months here into the best ones yet.

Pura Vida,

Drew

As The Dust Settles

This is the challenge that I signed up for. When I first applied to the Peace Corps, I knew that I was willing to meet the all of the Core Expectations of the organization. Since then, those expectations have not changed, nor have mine. I am still ready for a full term of 27 months. I am still committed to improving the quality of life of the people with whom I live and work. Most importantly, I am willing to go where the Peace Corps asks me to go.

When I boarded the plane in July, 2011, and when I officially swore in as a Volunteer in September, I hardly expected to be leaving Cape Verde less than one year later. But then again, I tried my best not to expect anything. The one thing I knew for sure was that an Early Termination was not in the cards. Last time I checked, “Interrupted Service” can be found under the heading of “Early Termination” in the Peace Corps Volunteer Handbook. Call it what you want, but that is simply not what I signed up for.

What did I sign up for? Why do I want to continue my service? Of course I have always valued and engaged in volunteerism, but there are plenty of people in need back home in Oakland, California. Of course I love to travel, and to live abroad, but there are plenty of other ways to see the world. So, why is it still Peace Corps for me? The honest answer is: the challenge. Before leaving home, I often thought about what I wanted to get out of the Peace Corps experience. There are the obvious concrete answers, like new language skills, and that is one of the most attractive aspects of transferring to Mali to complete my service. But beyond the tangibles, it always comes back to that abstract idea of being challenged. In other words, if I were to look back on my service with the feeling that it was really easy, I would be more than a little disappointed.

As I’ve grappled with the decision to transfer or not transfer over the last weeks, I’ve weighed so many pros and cons. I’ve made laundry lists of potential benefits and deal-breakers, looking for a bottom line to show me the right choice. But ultimately, it is not an equation or a simple SWOT analysis… it is my life. There are plenty of “what if’s” that could stop me from transferring to Mali. But honestly, I have never lived my life, or chosen my path based on “what if?” As one family member recently put it, “whatever you do, do not focus your decision making on: ‘what if in the future they stop the program [in Mali]. You have no control over that, and it’s best to make this decision in a vibe of hope and optimism.’” Understanding that truth, it becomes clear that there are endless good reasons to transfer to Mali to continue and complete my service. The need is there. The opportunity is there. The challenge is there. So I am there.

Pura Vida,

Drew

Timbuktu?

One of my earliest memories of having an interest in the world beyond my neighborhood is of playing the “Capitals” game. As in, “What’s the capital of …….?” After years of training with the help of the linoleum-esque spill-proof placemats on our kitchen table, I got to be fairly knowledgeable about these kinds of things. Even so, there were always a few places that, as kids, we never really associated with a real geographic location on the planet. In fact, we tended to use these names to refer to places that were as far away as you could imagine, and then some. Thus, in our imaginations, the only place that was more distant than China—which was actually only as day’s worth of digging away—was Timbuktu. 

The mysterious Timbuktu, center of several deceased empires, was probably my favorite pseudo-imaginary place, all the way up until high school. At that more mature age, my buddy, Joey T., introduced me to the idea of Burkina Faso, and its superbly-named capital, Oagadougou—beat that.

Ironically, here I am decades later, closer to Timbuktu than I ever imagined myself being. After almost three weeks on pins and needles, I received an invitation from Peace Corps to transfer to Mali to complete my service there. Wow. Now, I am realizing that the only thing harder than waiting for this information is figuring what to do with it.

 

I am certainly not the only one facing this decision right now. All of the 25 first-year Cape Verde volunteers in my cohort have received similar invitations to transfer—either to Mali, Benin, or Moçambique. The past few weeks have seen a flurry of back-and-forth emails and Facebook conversations, as volunteers seek to pick each other's brains, support one another, and just plain vent. Ultimately, we all know that it will be a personal decision for each of us, regardless of what the common knowledge, misinformation, or apprehensions may be.

I have until the end of this month to make my decision: to transfer or not to transfer, that is the question. If I chose not to accept the invitation to Mali, I would complete my first year of service here in Cape Verde. My official status would then be listed as “Interrupted Service,” which the Peace Corps Volunteer Handbook describes as a form of “Early Termination initiated by Peace Corps staff members, Host Country or local authorities who decide that a trainee or Volunteer should not remain in Peace Corps service due to reasons beyond his or her control,” (p. 73). In some ways it’s kind of like an honorable discharge. If I took this route, I’m pretty sure that I would end up staying in Cape Verde for another year to continue my volunteer work with the Centro da Juventude, while hopefully landing a job that would allow me to pay my relatively modest living expenses. Also, I would still be eligible for the normal benefits of being a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer, including one-year of non-competitive eligibility status if I were to apply for a federal government job.

The timing of this decision is pretty… well… interesting for me. For one, Carnaval is just around the corner (or already here, depending on when you are reading this post). It will be nice to have something to take my mind off the looming question for a few days. Plus, my body has almost recovered from W.A.I.S.T., so I think I’m ready. Then, after the festivities wrap up, I will be blessed with a cross-Atlantic visit from Lita and the Notorious D.A.D. Over the years, my dad has served me well in many capacities, including, teacher, financier, judge, jury, advocate, warden (never executioner), tour guide, and doubles partner.* Nowadays, he is more of a friend, confidant and general life consultant. It will be nice to have him close by in the days leading up to, and following, the deadline for making one of the biggest decisions of my life…** In truth, I’m not really looking for advice right now. Like I said before, the decision has to be mine. Regardless, it is helpful to bounce ideas off my peoples, be they fellow volunteers or family and friends spread across the globe. 

On that front, you guys have continued to be amazing, with supportive emails and more inspirational art therapy. Here’s the latest in our series of “Live From Tomorrow Haikus,” courtesy of my folks, Molly.

keep on keepin' on

enjoy all the adventures

the best ain't easy

 

Before I sign off, I thought it would be interesting to share with you a glimpse into my thought process as I start to tackle this decision. So, I present to you two more short lists:

3 Reasons Why I Should Stay in Cape Verde

-          Personal Commitment – Peace Corps aside, I feel like I made a personal commitment to the organization(s) that I work with in Cape Verde and the community where I live. The biggest reason for me to stay would be to see that commitment through to the end.

-          Not Moving - I hate, hate, hate, moving. Seriously, it is one my least favorite things in the world.

-          Mindelo - Mindelo é sab.***

3 Reasons Why I Should Transfer to Mali

-          The Need – Unlike Cape Verde, Mali is one of the poorest countries on the planet. About 35% of the population does not have access to clean drinking water. If I transfer, I will (be trained to) work on water sanitation projects.

-          Professional Commitment – The last thing I need on my resume is another thing that lasted for a year or so. I was really looking forward to being able to say that I worked for ______________ for more than two years. Right now, that would mean transferring to Mali to complete my service there.

-          The Challenge – If you know me, then you know that this is one of the things that make me tick on the most fundamental level. While my time in Cape Verde has brought its fair share of challenges, transferring to Mali would likely be a whole new level of “damn this is hard.” My French skills are negligible—besides, whatever language I would learn (Bambara?) has absolutely no connection to French, or any other language that I speak. Now that’s what I’m talkin´ ´bout. On top of that, I’ve never lived in a country that is landlocked, predominantly Muslim, etc., etc., etc.

Notice how I chose to keep these lists in the affirmative? In other words, I didn’t share my list of reasons why I should not do "x, y, z." But believe me: that list exists in my head, and as my roommate would say, "it tain´t purty." Without being a complete Debbie Downer, I do want to share one serious concern that will be a big influence on my decision. My big question is, “What if they decide to shut down the program in Mali, too?” Whether you call them insignificant skirmishes, isolated incidents, or a full-fledged rebellion, the reality is that there is some degree of instability in the country. Granted, the media has a tendency to exaggerate and sensationalize some of the stories coming out of Africa while ignoring others. “Besides,” you might be thinking, “Peace Corps wouldn’t transfer you to a country if they were going to shut down that program.” Unfortunately, in light of my current circumstances, I have trouble buying into the logic of that argument. Even as we speak, there are areas in Mali that are “off-limits” to the Peace Corps Volunteers that are already stationed in that country. Ironically, I'm pretty sure that one of those areas is the ever-elusive city of Timbuktu. So, maybe I’m not as close as I thought.

One thing is for sure: I won’t be making any final decisions in the next few days. I’ve got other fish to fry right now. I just bought a couple packs of face paint yesterday and the biggest question on my mind is whether to go with the simple black-and-white Dead Presidents look, or something more extravagant. When the dust settles, I will face the music and make the call. Who knows, maybe I will choose “none of the above.” Until then, I'll just be following my friend Yang's haiku-advice...

Pretty Mindelo
You won't be there for ever
Party it up NOW!!!

Pura Vida,

Drew

* We are still undefeated after dominating the non-competitive division of the Father/Son tournament at the San Francisco Tennis Club, circa 1995.

* *… thus far.

*** It’s nice here. “Sabi” (pronounced “sahb” in the North or “sah-bee” in the South) is another one of those words that is much bigger than its definition. It could mean nice, good, tasty, fun,all-gravy, or pretty much anything positive.

UPDATE: Peace Corps suspended its Volunteer Activities in Mali on April 9, 2012. Click here to read the official press release.

Haiku Therapy

In the week since my last post I have been showered with love from my folks and family around the world. You guys are amazing. Thank you for caring, thank you for reading, and thank you for reaching out to remind me that it's all going to work out perfectly, whatever that may end up looking like. Unfortunately, I have not come any closer to making a decision about what's next. I am still waiting on information from Peace Corps about the logistics and options for possibly transferring to another country to complete the second year of my service. Meanwhile, your love and support has taken so many forms, but one of you went the extra mile. So, in the continuing spirit of art therapy, I wanted to share with you an untitled haiku composed by my friend, Adriana, a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer*.

Drew, I am so sorry

enjoy the time you have left

change is beautiful

Thanks Adriana, I needed that. In the meantime, all haikus are welcome, even if they are not as sweet as this one. It could be a simple as:

Quit your crying, boy!

Luckiest man alive, right?
Let's go out swingin'.

Pura Vida,

Drew

* Adriana served as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Morocco from 2009-2011. After completing her service she stopped in Cape Verde to join us for Thanksgiving week before returning home to Queens, New York.

American Lemonade

A couple of months back my roommate got robbed at gunpoint just around the corner from our apartment. In Oakland we call that getting jacked. In Cape Verde we call that a casabodi... as in "your cash or your body." Fortunately, he walked away unharmed, albeit without his iPod. In the following days, as he sought to come to terms with his experience, he turned to poetry as a form of therapy. The haiku he created was hilarious, but due to the sensitivity of the event, someone mentioned in the poem asked him not to publish it. If you are worried about my roommate, please don't... he's doing just fine.

Last week I got jacked too. Not at gunpoint or with a knife—in fact, I didn't get casabodied at all, but I still feel like I've been robbed. After 2 months of training, and 4 months of service, I found out that due to budget cuts Peace Corps would be closing its operations in Cape Verde in September 2012.* I am still processing this information, and I've only started to weigh the options before me now. Here is an extremely simplified summary of the different paths that I could take, in no particular order.

• Start over. Get transferred to another country, go through Pre-Service Training again, then complete 2 years of service there.
• Finish my first year of service in Cape Verde, then transfer to another country and complete my second year of service there.
• Finish my first year of service in Cape Verde, then move on with my life.
• Throw up my middle finger, E.T. (early termination) and go home tomorrow.

Obviously, each option is more complex than I've made it sound. Each choice would have its own pro's and con's. Honestly, I only included the last option in this list because I need to vent a little bit. Right now, budget cuts or not, I do feel like Peace Corps has not fulfilled its commitment to me.** That being said, I'm not going out like that. This isn't the end of the world, it's just a big ol´ box of lemons... and you know what  that means.

C'est la vie, right? The most important thing for me to do now is to figure out what is best for me next, and to make the most of my remaining months in Cape Verde. In fact, knowing that my days here are numbered has helped me tune into all that there is to appreciate. Like my roommate, I have also decided to experiment with poetry to help me cope in these difficult times. So, in the spirit of art therapy, I present to you the first in a series of Live From Tomorrow Haikus.

"American Lemonade"

a haiku 

Dad, I joined Peace Corps

...now I feel American...

I just got laid off.

Pura Vida,

Drew

*The "official line" is that after 24 years of operations, the Peace Corps Cape Verde Program is "graduating." As the agency faces serious budget cuts and uncertainties, the decision has been made to focus Peace Corps efforts and resources on the countries and people that need it the most. After a full review, six countries were selected for closure: Cape Verde, Romania, Bulgaria, St. Kitts, Antigua, and Suriname. For more information about the decision to end operations in Cape Verde, please visit the following links:

http://www.alfa.cv/anacao_online/index.php/destaque/1741-corpo-da-paz-deixa-cabo-verde

http://www.forcv.com/cape-verde/4435-fim-da-missao-do-corpo-da-paz-em-cabo-verde

http://www.portalangop.co.ao/motix/pt_pt/noticias/africa/2012/0/4/Corpo-Paz-dos-Estados-Unidos-termina-missao,4f357240-4430-4cc7-9a45-f4c21247846d.html

**I understand, and actually agree with the agency's decision to select Cape Verde for closure. I do not understand or agree with the decision to close operations in September 2012, when 25 volunteers will still have one year of left on their service contracts. Sell a tank, have a bake sale, I don't care—let's just finish what we started.

I Need New Shoes

I’m back at home in Cape Verde after a short vacation in Dakar. The trip was excellent, but the fallout was considerable. My legs feel like I swam home from Senegal,  my bank account is looking real bad, and my liver has gone on strike in the hopes of renegotiating its labor contract. In short, we did it big last weekend.

After six months in my new home, I headed to the mainland to participate in W.A.I.S.T.—the West African Invitational Softball Tournament. All I have to say is that if baseball was more like W.A.I.S.T., then I would play and watch it a whole lot more. Every January, hundreds of Peace Corps Volunteer from across west Africa converge on the Senegalese capital for a weekend of mostly-unproductive camaraderie. The weekend follows directly on the heels of several constructive events, including the WID/GAD* conference and the All-Volunteer Conference, where folks get a chance to share ideas about their actual work. In stark contrast, W.A.I.S.T. is more like homecoming meets The Wellington Sevens. I’d like to tell you all about it, but what happens in Dakar stays in Dakar. Instead, I’ll give you just a little taste. So, with no further ado, I present...

Ten Things I’ll Never Forget About W.A.I.S.T. 

1. Partying so hard that even the kitten was passed out on the couch for most of the following day;
2. Pondering the idea of replacing the “Classic 1 to 10 Scale” with the “Binary System” for rating the attractiveness of women... kinda like red light / green light, or taking a class Pass/Fail;
3. Having a blast on an improvised Slip N Slide (plastic tarp + soapy water);
4. Seeing a softball team plug their defensive gap in the short-stop hole with an inflatable killer whale;
5. Charging the mound to tackle (and tickle) the pitcher from Team Far East after he beaned our batter;
6. Committing hara-kiri after that same team pounded us for three innings;
7. Replacing the third “s” in “sh*t, shower, shave” with “shawarma”;
8. Kraus;
9. The taste of a medium rare steak smothered in green peppercorn sauce (good); 
10. The taste of homemade moonshine imported from Korea (bad)

Now, I admit that this post has been a bit less wholesome than the others on this blog, and I wouldn’t want you to walk away with a bad impression of W.A.I.S.T. Truthfully, despite the debauchery, I can look back on the weekend and appreciate some valuable takeaways. For example, the opportunity to meet over one hundred volunteers from across the region was golden for me. Being stationed in Cape Verde, I am constantly reminded how different my life is from the “typical” Peace Corps experience (if there is one). It was nice to actually compare notes with Volunteers serving on the mainland, mostly in rural sites throughout Senegal, Guinea, The Gambia, and Mali. Not surprisingly, I found that their experiences were very different—the biggest shock for me was to realize just how damn many of them there are! We have less than 50 volunteers in Cape Verde, plus we are spread out across several islands so we are never in the same place at the same time. At times it felt like there were that many volunteers crashing at the Regional Transit House in Dakar on any given night.

 By far, the highlight of the weekend for me was dancing. Actually, I’m bumping Michael Jackson’s Off The Wall album at 11:00am as I write this, so you know what I’m about. It was just one of those times when you’re out there for 4-5 hours straight and every song that comes on just happens to be your jammy jam... even when you actually can’t stand it. It wasn’t until the next day when I went to get dressed and observed that my shoes were dirtier than Sarah Silverman's mouth, that I realized just how "active” I had been on the dance floor for the last two nights.

Believe it or not, Team Cape Verde did not make it to the semi-finals of the tournament, so we had Monday off to chill out. My original plan had been to use that day to explore the city a little bit, but I ended up exploring the couch at the Transit House. I can’t remember the last time I travelled to a new country or city and saw so little of it. I’m not proud of how little I integrated into Senegalese society during my four day stay—but I’m also not ashamed. Everyday for me in Cape Verde is a struggle to integrate, and I just needed a vacation.

Since my plane did not leave until Tuesday afternoon, I got to spend my last morning walking the streets of downtown Dakar. It reminded me how much I enjoyed riding solo during my travels leading up to entering the Peace Corps. More than anything, those few hours made me want to come back to Senegal again—maybe for W.A.I.S.T., or maybe for no good reason at all. At least I know I have a bucket of new friends in west Africa, and at least a few mud huts that would welcome me. I’ll make it happen... inshallah.

Pura Vida,

Drew

*From Women in Development to Gender in Development

Just Like Daddy

I love kids. I love them enough to go on record and state that I want some of my own—just not yet. In the meantime, I’ve been content to practice for the upcoming challenge. Some of you reading this have been generous enough to dump your kids on me from time to time, and for that, I thank you. After all, that’s what Coach Drew is here for, right? In addition to the hordes of rug-rats and miscellaneous youngsters that I’ve had the opportunity to pseudo-parent, I’ve also had the chance to hone my skills while rearing my two adopted children, Dino and Mia.

Even though they live thousands of miles apart and have never met each other, they do have one important thing in common: they’re both just like Daddy. Dino, for example, loves him some bola*. Like me, he’s really not into running just for the sake of it, but give him a ball and he’s on it like a fiend on a pipe. All joking aside, I would recommend against using the b-word* around him unless you are already at the park and ready to roll with ball in hand.

Mia, on the other hand, is not crazy about balls. In fact, I literally just tossed one at her and she ran out of the room. That’s OK because she still likes to get active... which brings me back to my original thought: she’s just like Daddy too. I guess it's true that the apple never falls far from the tree—especially the part about falling. Unfortunately, my little girl had some kind of spill during a unsupervised brinca** session with some of her friends. Now she’s got a broken left arm... just like Daddy. Actually, she’s ahead of schedule—I think I was about one year old when I first broke my arm, and she’s only six months.

It may sound like I am taking this pretty lightly, but I’m not. I guess the bitter humor is just how I’m dealing with it—the pity, the guilt, and the frustration. After a few trips to the local animal clinic it dawned on me (again) that I’m not in Kansas anymore. Honestly, it’s easy to forget how isolated I am when I’m watching English soccer via satellite and checking my Facebook at work (just a little bit). Then my little girl’s got a limb hanging limp, and all the vet can do is give her a shot for the pain and improvise a splint from random wood scraps and a few strips of tape. Oh yeah, I forgot: I live on a tiny island in a developing country in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Somehow it had slipped my mind that there wasn’t a fully equipped professional doggie surgeon in the local yellow pages. My bad.

If there is a silver lining, it must be that Mia is taking this whole thing a lot better than I am. Like I said, she loves to get active, especially with other dogs, and this hasn’t slowed her down a bit. Even with only three functioning legs, she is still down to rassle and she never passes up a chance to let the other canines know. And since she's just like Daddy, I expect that she won't be letting a broken arm or two (or three) stop her from doing big things. 

Honestly, the chances for a full recovery are not looking good right now. All I can do is hope for the best and remind myself that either way, she’s got a long happy life ahead of her. In the meantime, think some happy thoughts for her.

Pura Vida,

Drew

*ball

**playing around