Reflections & Testicle Soup

I’ve been reflecting a lot lately on my Peace Corps process. I remember panicking more than once, worried that they would not want me to serve. I asked my mother on more than one occasion, “What will I do if they don’t want me?” I put my everything into coming here to serve, banking my entire life on this one decision that would either make or break my very near future. It’s crazy to think of it now, as I am here, sitting here writing about a time when I was terrified one day and excited the next. I can adamantly say that so far, nothing has happened like I thought it would, and I am very glad about that. Every experience I have undergone has tested me, who I am, and the very core of my being. I feel as if I have proved myself on more than one occasion. It truly sounds ridiculous and I can admit that, but it is also something that cannot be understood unless you go through it. Again, I’m sorry for the absurdity of this. I have a lot of thoughts in my head and it’s rather difficult to unscramble them.

Basically, I didn’t realize just how much I was capable of doing until I got here. I rely so much on myself, and on God, that it is extraordinary. The past week has been very trying, where I have had diarrhea 15+ times a day. I have been weak, lost weight because I couldn’t eat, and was all-around miserable. Still, I pushed through and went on the field trips, did my work, spent time with my family. Took matters into my own hands, stayed hydrated… it’s scary to be sick over here because you have such a lack of resources. The nurses told me to change my diet but it’s nearly impossible. All I have to eat here is rice and potatoes. So, I dove into the granola bars my mum sent me [thanks mum! They’re delish].

I sent my mother a letter about a week ago. I am hoping she types it out and posts it or forwards it to everyone, as I wrote a lot about my experiences so far. I wish everyone were here to feel what I feel. It is different every second of every day, and the process of taking just one small step on the African soil can cause me to have epiphanies. But I am truly in love with this place, this situation that I am in, the journey I am on. I’m glad you are all able to be on it with me :o]

Know that you are all in my hearts and prayers, always. If anything, I pray more than ever…. Perhaps it’s because my host father is the imam, or because people around me pray 5 times a day :o] But regardless. I reflect a lot on my home life, and while I miss certain superficial things [ie. Snow, Christmas, decorations, songs, food], I honestly don’t have a physical desire to be home. I know this will probably change and it’s only been 5 weeks, but it’s been a difficult 5 weeks. And not to get on my soapbox but, I’m kind of proud of myself.

Anyway, I’m at Babokar’s right now with Whitney listening to Christmas music. I’m about to make some hot chocolate and put this thing away, my battery is at 38% and quickly dying. I spoke on the phone with my mum today and it was wonderful. I love her so much and couldn’t do this without her continuous support, as well as the support from my sister and brother [although Zeke, if Chase answers the phone again when I phone you and he calls me ‘dear’, I’m going to kill him].

You’re all in my hearts…. Merry Christmas & Razzleberry Dressing :o]

[this next part was written 2 hours later]

I am back at Babokar’s. I was served dry cous with a side of ram testicle soup for lunch, so Tammy and I are making EasyMac on the gas ‘stove.’ I wish I was kidding. I tried one piece of testicle, couldn’t get past the fact that it was slimy-chewy and smelled like dead, wet cat, and came up here.

Oh, This Is AFRICA.