Things Slowly Come Together (Or Maybe The Theme Should Be Communication)

So, a few weekends back, I spent a much needed vacation/mental health weekend away from Mosteiros, down in São Filipe, which is what counts as the ‘big city’ here on Fogo. The 5:30 am hiace ride is never fun, and it didn’t help that I woke up at 2:30 in the morning, and couldn’t fall back asleep. I think it was because a) I was worried about not getting up at 5 am and missing the hiace and b) I was really that excited to go to São Filipe. I remember there were some times back in Sao Dao when I’d be going to Praia the next day to use the Internet, and I was so excited that I couldn’t get to bed. Yes, it is the little things in life that give me pleasure now.

Idealist has a great big house, a huge back yard and a big dog. It was great to see her again, since we haven’t really talked since the end of Training, so it was nice to reconnect. I wasn’t too surprised when I learned that we both had reached the same conclusion as to how our service in Cape Verde could effect our future (hoped for) careers in the development field. She showed me around town, we ate a lot of good food, I heard live music for the first time on the island – at the bar of her closest Cape Verdean friend – and I even got to see the pool at the four star hotel they have in town. I even found a bar/club that serves vodka, which was very happy for me. I think the last time I drank vodka was in the States. Of course, they didn’t have all the ingredients for the mixed drinks on their menu, so my choices were limited. But the drinks that I did have were oh so sweet (in even better news, I just found a bar in Mosteiros that has vodka! Yeehaw!) We saw a small art show, I went to their Shell station, which is a lot bigger than ours, and has a much wider selection (yes, I was extremely jealous when I saw their gas station) and I helped Idealist clean up some of her house. Her house has a strong Peace Corps legacy, which has literally been painted into the walls, but it really needs a good cleaning or two. So, I helped out with that, which made me feel good. I think that’s probably the most substantial piece of development work that I’ve done so far in Fogo! Though maybe as not as much as Mosteiros, there are still a fair number of people in São Filipe who speak English, not counting the tourists or those U.S. doctors who were coming back from Brava doing charity dental work or something.

So her house has this big backyard and a high wall that has shards of glass on the top that have been sunk into the cement for security. When I got there, Idealist was telling me that a chicken somehow got inside the wall, and was now stuck, and just hanging around in her yard. She might not even have discovered this for a while, but one day her dog came into the house and was eating some of the eggs that the chicken had apparently laid. I’m sure the chicken didn’t appreciate being stuck in the yard, but it also was resistant to Idealist’s efforts to help it leave. So I figured I would give it a try. My original goal was to just get the chicken in a corner, grab it and take it outside. Well, I was able to corner it in a few places, but my chicken wrangling skills are not what they used to be (alright, I admit, I have no chicken wrangling skills) and it would always squawk, flap its wings and fly up a few feet in the air and then manage to get around me. I was a bit nervous to grab it, since I was afraid it would start pecking my arm or something.

Then Idealist suggested that we toss a towel up on it, and when it was disoriented, then grab it. So, she got a towel or shirt or something, and I tried throwing it on the chicken, but it squawked some more and ran away. So we stopped that pretty quickly. Then I thought maybe if I hit it with something, I could stun it for a few seconds, and when was stumbling, I would grab it. I found this half deflated plastic ball that must have been a dog toy and chucked it at the chicken. I managed to hit it once or twice, but that just seemed to spur the chicken to run away faster. I figured that the chances of me hitting the chicken in the head was pretty small, since it’s head was pretty small. I vaguely thought about hitting it with a metal pipe, but then I was worried that I might accidentally end up killing it, since I didn’t know how much of a beating the chicken would be able to take.

So, we were taking a break and the dog was chasing the chicken around the yard. The dog was actually keeping pace with the chicken and could have killed it whenever it wanted to. But you could tell that the dog was just having a good time and playing around. However, I don’t think the chicken was sharing the sentiment, since it was running around and squawking in a very angry and unamused manner. So, at that point, I just decided I just needed to grab the chicken, and worry about the effects of a flesh wound (and possible case of bird flu) later.

Lucky for us, the dog chased the chicken into a corner underneath the stairs, that had a bunch of rocks piled up into a mini mountain. So, the chicken was at about the height of my shoulders, with no place to escape to, because the corner was pretty tight. I made a lunge and got my hand around the chicken’s neck. It squawked like nobody’s business (Idealist later told me she knew I had gotten the chicken because it was squawking crazier than usual) but I had it! It resisted, but didn’t try to peck me, probably cause it couldn’t get at the correct angle. I’ve seen Cape Verdeans walk around with chickens before (I even saw some kids in Sao Dao walk by with an owl once) and they usually have it by the legs. But I figured that the neck was good enough, and we headed to the front door. I threw it out and it just looked kind of confused, like it didn’t know where to go now that it was out on the street. Maybe he had lived out in the fora (countryside) before and fell out of a hiace or something. But it acted like it hadn’t even seen the city before. When we went back into the house, we could still see it tentatively walking around. It ended up going up the steps of the Câmara, and when we left the house like an hour later, it was still there! It was gone by the time we got back, so maybe it was trying to make its way out of town, or maybe someone else caught it, and served it for dinner. It wasn’t that big of a chicken, though, I think if I had captured it for food, I would feed it more first, and have it grow some more before killing it.

We also randomly saw some turkey’s walking down the street one day, and I told Idealist she needed to capture one of them near Thanksgiving, so we could have a proper turkey dinner. I don’t think she was too into the idea, but maybe she’ll change her mind as the time draws closer.

So, that’s one of those experiences that you don’t have every day. But of course, all good things must come to an end, and eventually the PCMO rolled around, and I got a ride back to Mosteiros. Before I left, I was able to grab a ton of books/magazines (book reviews are forthcoming), a few kitchen supplies, a license plate for Traumatize’s brother, and some other stuff that we will be needing for the haunted house at the CEJ. The ride back, in a hiace that only had three people in it, was amazingly pleasant.

So, not only did the PCMO meet individually with each of us, she took us out to dinner, looked around our houses, and brought us this huge box of stuff from our mailboxes in Praia. So I got a letter from a PCV in the South Pacific, books that I had been waiting for from the PC library and some magazines. She was also kind enough to buy a rice cooker for us from the one Chinese loja in Praia that I could find that carried them. So now, the Karate Catholic and I are able to make rice in a dignified manner, which gives honor to my ancestors, who used to make their rice in rice cookers, hundreds and hundreds of years ago.

The PCMO checked out my leg wound that I got from my fall down the volcano. First she told me that if I had wanted, I could have gotten at least 10 stitches for it, which would have helped it heal faster (the wound still hadn’t closed up when she saw it). That surprised me since I guess the wound looked bad, but I didn’t think it was to the point of needed stitches. Then after thinking about it, she decided to put me onto an antibiotic, just to be on the safe side. I also have this self-deprecating story I could tell about how she refused to take back some magnum condoms that she had brought me, but I’ve decided that I need to stop telling self-deprecating stories about myself, so you will just have to trust me that it is funny. Hah hah hah.

What’s really made me feel like this is Christmas is that I got my first care package the other day! I almost shed a tear of joy. Who knew magazines, hand sanitizer, envelopes, candy and a letter could make me so happy? It’s been like three weeks straight of getting new stuff! Woohoo!

Well, thought a combination of random factors, I am no longer spending all of my time thinking about ET’ing. Mosteiros is far from my personal paradise, but I am slowly, ever so slowly, adapting. I’ve been talking with some friends over the phone, and I feel that I am at a slightly, more adjusted place than they are. I very easily fall into emotional extremes, so I think that initial disorientation, depression, and near despair hit me in a very hard way. Others made their initial adjustments here a lot better than I did. So as I drag myself out of my pit of despair, things can’t help but look a bit brighter, whereas others are just realizing how close they are to the edge of it. But in a real way now, I think I can see myself here for the next two years, maybe even doing a bit of good.

And actually, I had hoped this past week in the office, I had struck my first blow for the honor and glory of WID/GAD (Women in Development/Gender and Development). But alas, no. One of the guys in the office – not clear as to what he does since other than “good morning,” I still can’t understand what anyone is saying to me – was having some laptop problems that he wanted me to look at. It’s the second time I‘ve looked at his computer, trying to fix its problems. And for the second time, he has a naked woman as his background. Of course, (to paraphrase a former coworker) “a naked woman, in general, does not offend me.” But at a work computer! Come one!

My Kriolu is not to the point where I could explain why I don’t have a problem with porn, but how it is something probably better viewed outside of the office. However, I figured I might as well try so that he doesn’t keep sticking naked women on his desktop. When I was fiddling with the video controls and drivers, I had accidentally changed the desktop to some standard, bland Windows background. I was able to fix the problem and when I returned the laptop to him, I speculated his problems may have emerged out of the fact that he isn’t using the backgrounds offered by Windows for his desktop, and that he shouldn’t use other photos, only the ones that came with Windows. Unlikely, of course, but it was worth a shot.

He seemed to understand (or maybe he was doing that thing I do when someone says something to me in Kriolu and I just smile and nod, and then go right back to whatever it was that I was doing) so I was hoping that he would be happy enough that his problems got fixed, that he would leave well enough alone. However, he had another computer problem the next day, and when I looked at his laptop, he had yet another naked woman on his desktop! So, that didn’t exactly work out as planned. Maybe in a year and a half, I’ll be able to properly share my concerns with him in a Kriolu that he will be able to understand.

Of course, it’s not just work when I don’t understand what people are saying to me. One day, I was heading back home after work, and this guy comes out of the chicken place. He looks vaguely familiar and maybe I’ve seen him once or twice before. He says something to me in English, and then he switches over to rapid-fire Kriolu and he ends up talking for like a minute, with occasional pauses where I smile and say “sin, sin” (yes, yes). At the end of this awkward (for me) encounter, we shake hands and he seems really happy and we part ways. So who knows, maybe I just agreed to take his daughter back to America with me. Or maybe I agreed to come over to his house to try to fix his computer. Or maybe he was just laughing at me since he knew that I didn’t understand anything that he said.

On the other hand, there are times where I say things that probably make no sense to anyone else. On some weekend, I was heading out of my house, with a gauze pad over the leg wound. Some guy who I have never seen before was walking by and he looks at the gauze asks me in Kriolu if I had gone to the clinic/hospital (which is a block or so away). I told him no, but that I had put medicine on it myself. He told me I should still go to the hospital if things got worse. So, I thanked him and we went on our separate ways. Later, when recounting this story to Darney O’Malley (my point having been how nice some of the people here can be) I learned that I hadn’t said, “I didn’t go to the hospital, I put medicine on it myself” I had said “I didn’t go to the hospital, I put a doctor on it myself.”

Then there is that third time of encounter you have, when you’re walking down the street in a neighborhood you’ve only driven through before and you get flagged down by a Cape Verdean, who speaks English with a Brockton accent, already knows your name and where you live. In the States, it probably would be weird if you met someone for the first time and they already knew your name and where you lived, but it’s different here. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone talks. It’s not like talk in the sense of gossip, but word usually gets around pretty fast. There are no such things are secrets here. And there also aren’t street addresses here, so it’s not like someone would say “oh yeah, you live at 1777 T St, NW.” For example, when I called to get the hiace to São Filipe the other weekend, I told the hiace driver that I lived behind Bar Suave, and he knew where that was and there wasn’t a problem.

So, it’s always pleasant to be able to communicate with a Cape Verdean, too bad it’s not actually in Kriolu. Though it still annoys me a bit, I understand better now why people would prefer to speak English to me, than try to communicate in Kriolu. I’ve noticed when I’m speaking English with one of my coworkers (who is actually pretty good) and I say something that he doesn’t understand, I don’t want to repeat myself in English, I just want to switch to Kriolu and ask the question again. That urge I have to just use the simplest path to communication is the same urge that everyone else has when it comes to talking with me. It’s understandable, but frustrating since I would like to improve my Kriolu while I’m here.

I was talking about it with Idealist, and one thing we agreed was that we would never take communication for granted again. I think about what it was like to work in an office back in the States, and be able to communicate with everyone. It may sound crazy, but I look back at that now with a small bit of wonderment. I can’t wait to someday be at another job where I can speak the same language with everyone!

And speaking of communication, the other day I probably had what has been to date my most awkward encounter ever with a woman. So, it was night, and I was sitting on the cement benches overlooking the ocean. The little deaf girl and a friend of hers were playing nearby. Then, this older woman walks over, and I thought it was her mom or something. As she gets closer, I realize that she is like in her early 20s, and probably not the mom. So she greets the kids and then sits next to me on the bench. By American standards, she is sitting unusually close for someone that you’ve never met. But by Cape Verdean standards, she’s sitting the usual distance away. So, she sits there are just looks at me. After about five seconds of this, I greet her and then start asking her some questions. I do have some basic Kriolu sentences down and can ask them without sounding like a total fool. I probably have 10 to 15 questions I can ask a new person I can meet, and then I am out of conversation. So, I ask a few questions, and get some one sentences responses. She says she already knows my name and where I work. After a few questions, I trail off, since I assume that at this point, she will want to ask me some questions in attempt to create dialogue. But no, she does not. She either sits there, and kinda stares off, or will look me directly in the eyes. It’s not I’m catching her checking me out or anything, no, she is just staring straight into my face. So, unless I ask her a question, she just sits there. At first, I am like, whatever, that is fine. With friends, I can handle silence, but with people that I don’t really know, the silence can get to me. So, after about 15 minutes of this, I’m like, I need to go home, and I told her that I would see her later.

So, I went home and hid for a bit, and then went back out to Darney O’Malley’s for any additional insights that he could provide, since he has been here for a year, and has already offered plenty of advice about the women of Mosteiros. So, I am standing out on the street and he is up on his balcony and we are talking. Then I see the girl walking toward us, being chased by the little deaf girl. Darney O’Malley ends up coming downstairs since a neighbor is offering oranges. So, then the two of us are standing there talking more, when the girl (who has already passed in front of us like four mote times) comes by again, and this time just stands there in front of us, not saying anything. Darney O’Malley asks her a few questions, but just like before, if you don’t say anything to her, she won’t say anything to you. She is just standing there, staring at us. So, Darney O’Malley mutters that we should start talking in English, because he’s noticed that people will usually leave when you just start talking and aren’t really including them. Of course, this doesn’t work with her, and she keeps standing and starting. Then he mutters for us to go upstairs and we take our leave of her. Then, she walks a bit down the street and then just sits down. So, we’re not clear why she is doing that, and I figure I won’t be leaving till she is out of eye range. After ten minutes of her doing whatever it is that she’s doing, she leaves. I quickly bounce and take a back alley route home, hoping to avoid her. I make it home safe, hoping not to have to run into her again, but realizing that it’s pretty unlikely in this town.

Switching gears to people I am actually interested in meeting, we had heard rumors that the new U.S. Ambassador to Cape Verde would be swinging through Mosteiros on a Tuesday, since there is such a large ex-pat population here, as well as people with strong family ties to the States. So, on that Monday, I suddenly get word that we (the Câmara) need to set up something called the American Corner, so that when the ambassador arrives, he can christen or whatever. So, the morning starts with me running into one of the guys who is running the American Corner, telling me that I will be working there. Of course, this is really the first I’ve heard of this. Then, I go to my office, one of my coworkers comes in and says something to me. I have no idea at all what he said. All I got was the name of one of my coworkers, and he asked me if I understood. In order not to embarrass myself, I tell him that I understand, more or less. So, then I stand around, trying to recount what he said, but then giving up. So, I head over to the American Corner and there is a bunch of stuff that had been sent over from the U.S. Embassy, like books, computers, a TV and whatnot. I help them set it up (which includes putting together a TV stand) and call it a day.

The next day, I am not sure exactly where I should first go, so I head back to the Câmara. I go to my office, and there are three people sitting in it, my desk is covered with papers, and two of them have laptops out and are busy typing away and going through files. Though I am new to Cape Verde’s culture, even I can take the hint that this is no longer my office. So, I head over the American Corner. I take care of a few other minor things, and we’re good to go. Then it’s more waiting, and finally the ambassador comes around. He holds a short forum with the Cape Verdean-Americans who are in town, and then he heads over the American Corner and cuts the ribbon, goes in and says a few words.

When all of this is happening, I’m talking with another official from the embassy, and I finally understand that the American Corner isn’t an idea that the Câmara came up with, it’s actually a State Department program that was started a few years ago! It’s basically another arm of public diplomacy, and is meant to create goodwill and whatnot among peoples of the world. It doesn’t officially function as another embassy, or a consular office or anything, but will probably end up taking up a few of those minor roles.

So, this now becomes my new base of operations, which will be cool. I should finally be able to have my own computer, and once we get the Internet connection here, it will be free for people to use when the Corner is open, and I’ll also be able to use it whenever I want, since I will have a key. So that is good news. My initial thoughts are that I will roll in her to use the computer and do research on the Internet, but I’ll have flexibility to head out into the community for WID/GAD stuff, and I might start spending some time at this nonprofit organization I found that appears to deal with water issues. I need to go over there sometime and introduce myself and see if I can meet with the boss sometime.

Random factoid: I understand there is some sort of massive hurricane heading toward/has recently arrived at/ devastated parts of Cuba/Mexico/Florida? I’ve heard that a lot of the hurricanes that hit the States actually get there start in the oceans out west of Cape Verde. A few days before first hearing about the hurricane, there was this one night with fierce winds and crazy lightning out at sea. I have a feeling that what we felt was what eventually turned into the hurricane. So get all of your weather updates here!

Note before I start my book reviews: Like I was saying before, I was able to pick up a lot of books from Idealist’s house, there is a broad ranging selection. Of course, I know my time in PC should be one where I try to improve my mind, read some good literature that will expand my worldview and make me more conversant at some boring dinner party in the future. And I did get some classics. But, in addition to that, I did pick up some things that I usually wouldn’t even think of reading in the States. But, for the love of Allah, I’m in a developing country with few ways to entertain myself! Just keep that in mind. Thank you.

Red Rabbit by Tom Clancy. First book by him that I’ve ever read (though I do have Hunt for Red October in my bookshelves somewhere). It’s basically about this communications specialist for the KGB that decides to defect after learning of a Soviet plan to kill the Pope. Jack Ryan, who spends too much time whining about some earlier terrorist attack against him and his family, plays a role in getting the defector and his family out. Though his wife is a doctor, she doesn’t seem to understand that Ryan is a CIA analyst who cannot go around talking about his work with her! And does Tom Clancy actually think that the Holy Roman Catholic Church has actually done good things in this world, or is that just what Ryan believes? But despite the foolery, the book wasn’t too bad overall. No major crazy plot twists, but a quick and solid read. I think the Transit House has a bunch more Clancy books, and I may pick up a few more.

Bridget Jones’s Diary by Helen Fielding. After telling Darney O’Malley that I thought this book had provided me several insights into the female mind, he agreed that I would be able to use that to my advantage in the future when getting into a relationship with a woman, provided I could actually convince the woman that I wasn’t gay. The book wasn’t too bad, everyone probably knows about it, so I won’t bother going into details. I think I’ll pick up the sequel when I’m in São Filipe next time, and might even check out the movies when I get back to the States.