Isn't this a terrible idea? I mean really it's just downright miserable. A blog. What am I supposed to write about here? I could write about my ride into Kaedi yesterday but because there are several different types of audiences reading this thing, how do I know the best way to treat my subject matter? For example:

Dear Mom: Yesterday Cortney and I made it into Kaedi, overall the trip went fine, no major snags. We're going to stay in Kaedi over the fete for the end of Ramadan because that is Cortney's birthday too and she just got a cake mix in a package so we can make that in the makeshift oven at the region house. We hope to be much more productive in the next month, now that Ramadan is finishing up.

Dear Dad: Yesterday Cortney and I hitched a free ride on the back of a pickup truck into Kaedi, the ride was pretty rough but not too bad. We're hanging out in Kaedi for the next couple days because it's Cortney's birthday and we're gonna party with some other Americans to mark the occasion. Chances are pretty good that next month is gonna be equally frustrating to this last one because there's such a changeup of residents when Ramadan ends. Everyone goes back to their own town and we're gonna have to introduce ourselves to a whole lot of people all over again.

Dear Sis: I hate riding on the back of pickup trucks. Cortney had a cushy spot propped on a rice sack or something while I was sitting on the cooking utensils, my ass feels like ground beef after three hours of bouncing up and down on an unidentifiable bag of semi-sharp objects with way too many corners. All in all, for a free ride it wasn't bad and I shouldn't complain, I only came close to flying off once or twice. The mayor snagged us this ride with less than ten minutes warning so I'm pretty sure I left everything resembling clean clothes in Mbout. I guess beggars can't be choosers right? We were going a little nutso in Mbout alone and by yesterday morning we had both been yelling at nothing that we needed a ride to Kaedi or we were gonna lose it. Anyway, we were both in need of a drink and a shower and a little bit of American socializing. We'll get back to Mbout within a week or so probably, and who knows? Maybe we'll even do something this month. Though i guess I did move into my house, so that counts as an accomplishment for last month.

Do you understand my dilemma? I mean it's all the same story, it just changes a little depending on who I'm telling it to. I know the three people I mentioned above are all reading this nonsense every time I post (and I assume you three all kept to your respective little letters, right?) but who else is out there? I have my suspicions about a few of you. There's probably quite a few more family members, the occasional wandering friend who found this on facebook, and maybe some stalking parents of other PCVs, not to mention a Peace Corps nominee who e-mailed me last week. How can I know you're reading this if you don't ever leave comments?!

Alright. So I moved into my new house, I mentioned that, and it felt damn good to wave goodbye to the auberge, my hotel. I bought a bamboo bed and a big sera with some new thin mattelas for lounging about during the day. I wonder what you picture when I say that. (I found out conclusively that I now have the best argument yet for not posting pictures, I seem to have... misplaced... my camera sometime in the final days at the center around swear in. Oops.) Our mayor tried to switch us into a different sector, semi-unintentionally. He just casually mentioned that when the school director came back we could go meet him and set up which english classes we would be teaching at the lycee. No no no, that would be an education volunteer, and frankly we're woefully unqualified to try to teach english to 70 kids in a class room. No no, our sector really is just that GMC thing you keep half-dismissing.
I was sick for about a week, which was basically just Mauritania's way of stuffing my oft spoken hopes for good health and weight gain down my throat. Back to square one.
Yeah I'm afraid the only interesting news I really have is the stuff that happens to other people. Congrats to Emu and Dan on getting engaged! Wish I could be there for the wedding. Wish I could have raise a glass in your honor when the day rolls around. Neither is terribly likely, but I'll still be sending you both good vibes.
So that's about all I have today, nothing but a rather disjointed mess of a post really. To you, anonymous readers, who won't even bother to post a comment, at least do me this small favor. Go out and have a really amazing slice of cheese. Or a glass of good wine or beer. Or some lasagna. Or nachos. Or anything except rice. I'll enjoy it vicariously. :) Eid Mubarak!

Too much!

You will absolutely not believe it. No, you really wouldn’t. You’d think I was lying or crazy or maybe even both. So I won’t tell you. Tough luck chums, that’s what you get for being skeptics. So we’ll just move on then and I won’t tell you that one glorious thing that is foremost in my mind. No I really won’t, so if you’re reading for that you might as well just give up, go grab a beer and plop yourself down in front of the television. I know I would, in your shoes.

So swear in was a couple weeks ago, as all you creepy stalker parents already know. And there was our little sewage backup, the ambassador visit, the ceremony… the party. All of it is kind of old news at this point, right? Well in general, the party was excellent… and in spite of the fact that we were drinking plastic bottle Senegalese gin and whiskey (which specializes in giving you a hangover before it even gets you drunk) we powered through and managed to get down right ridiculous by the end of the night. A few days later, mostly recovered and saddened by leaving, Cortney, Nick, and I piled into Fall’s taxi with him before most of the group had finished their breakfast and sped off towards Kaedi. Fall, a significant character in the next few days proceedings, is the housing coordinator for stage. He’s one of the magicians responsible for tracking down 77 host families for the PCTS not to mention all the housing for facilitators and staff. He’s a retired teacher. He drives his car as a taxi sometimes. And he’s a little crazy… in a good way.

Eight or nine-ish hours later we pulled into Kaedi with all its pomp and splendor. Less than twenty four hours later… with barely any of our move-in shopping done… Cortney, Fall and I were off to M’Bout with a little stop along the way to drop off Sara Cate in Genki and Tanya in Lexaba. When we got to M’Bout we stayed with the Macire family, which is the family of the brother of our badass safety and security coordinator. Fall searched desperately for housing for Cortney and I and we ended up in rather temporary arrangements… which is to say that for this month I live in a closed up auberge… hotel… which turns into the town party spot after Ramadan. Cortney is still debating whether or not to stay with the family she’s with now.

Now it was a near thing, up until two days ago I would have had to say “No, I don’t have a place to stay after this month yet.” And I probably would have grumbled about it a lot, which those of you who called me had to put up with. Now though, thankfully, I find myself with lodging. I’m going to live in a very nice new looking house with two rooms and a hanger and a big courtyard and electricity which by all rights should be outside my price range but the mayor bullied the landlord on my behalf. Speaking of the mayor, the amazing mayor, who’s not actually the mayor, but who’s counting really. The real mayor is a minister in Nouakchott, which naturally impedes him actually being a mayor, so the guy who is actually the mayor is his first assistant. He’s amazing, and we’re having a footrace in a month, so I’m in training… sort of.

Now travel to and from M’Bout is ridiculously expensive, particularly in the rainy season, to the point that if Cortney and I can’t get rides for free from nice people… we probably won’t go anywhere and we’ll just go completely stir crazy. Luckily, for now, there are a couple of incredibly nice guys who speak English working for the Portuguese company that’s building the road between Kaedi and Selibaby with M’Bout in the middle. They go back and forth from M’Bout to Kaedi at least a few times a week. Pedro and Eduardo. Eduardo is the factory manager for the base in M’Bout and Pedro is actually dating a PCV in Kaedi and he gave us all a ride the other day into Kaedi. Hopefully he won’t mind too much giving us a ride back too.

Alright what am I missing now… oh water. Yes water. There is a water tower in M’Bout, but nobody has running water… everyone gets well water delivered and stored in old oil drums which one then siphons into a bucket for a shower or laundry or cooking or whatever. The presence of the water tower makes me feel a little like someone is playing an extremely elaborate practical joke on us… which they’re not. Probably.

Okay I think that about covers enough. If you have questions, feel free to ask me but I won’t tell you that first thing because now it’s been built up too much and it’s really a personal excitement not meant for grand groups of too-interested people. Send me e-mails! Write me comments! Call me! Best of all send me packages...

Oh and every couple weeks I might make it on skype occasionally so my new skype name is: john.robert.tyler

I know, it's clever. Forgot my old password for skype so here with we go with a new identity.