Photos! Well…Meh.

 

Alright, random array of photos, here we come!

Since my mother’s been upset about my lack of photos (and the few I’ve emailed were NOT well received) I have followed instructions and taken my camera out and gone to town. Well, to town for me. Which is more like driving three hours to a bush village.

SPA TIME!

Face Masks for Santa! Yeah…add in a few seasons of Elementary, Bones, The Mentalist and you have Christmas. ❤Christmas Feast!

Delicious food courtesy of The Fabulous GK. Dankie, boo darling. We chomped down on ham, mashed potatoes and REAL STUFFING. And real, in context, means Stove Top. Absolutely the best thing for a volunteer to receive in a care package. All you do is add water, sometime butter. SAY WHAT?!

Elephant!

A present for a family member. Hopefully it’ll make it. The post office wasn’t able to provide me enough stamps to send it. I literally bought the whole place out! 🙂Yum!

More photos of food…Please note the tree complete with presents. We even had stockings! Wha-what?Almost Finished!

Me receiving my certificate. Which I guess means I can now leave. They handed it over all willy-nilly. You think they would have pulled a hs-graduation and made us wait overnight to actually get the real thing. Foolish Peace Corps. Mtal Rainbow

And lastly, most epically, DOUBLE RAINBOW. Okay, so it didn’t photograph well, but it happened. I may have woken my neighbors with my cackles, but it was worth it! Of course, since I just planted my ginger sprout outside, it’s started to flash-flood rain. Grr. So much for damp but not soggy soil. My bad.

But that’s about it. I haven’t done as much as I’d like since returning. It’s hard to reach students since athletics have taken over after school hours and the hostel doesn’t want to let any of them out in the evening. But I have some awesome counterparts, so we plan on making my last few months here pretty darn productive. And amazing.

I’m hungry and the clock’s not ticking.

I swear, time stands practically still when you’re looking at photos of food and dreaming up ridiculous recipes that you’ll never attempt. Right now I’m thinking on potatoes. Pan-fried, butter-slathered, delicious potatoes. I finally bought my first bottle of ketchup to enjoy with the starchy goodness.

Yeah, didn’t buy the potatoes.

What can I say, I panic in groceries stores.

But I have more than potatoes to share with you, Mama. Returned back to site after a few weeks of here-not here. Traveled to Gobabis (about 2 hours east of the capital) for Christmas and New Years. Got my nails did and my biltong on. Journeyed back to Windhoek for a COS (closure of service) conference. That’s right, I’m going home in less than 80 days. There was surprisingly little fighting on who gets to go home first. There are 4 of us heading back the first day and then the remaining 10 are either trickling home within 6 months or extending for a third year. I, however, selected dayo numero uno. So that barely gives me time to figure out what I’m bringing, let alone plan a trip to Cape Town before heading back to get a serious job.

Absolutely ridiculous if you think about how much American food I have hoarded under my kitchen sink. It’s just so difficult to let go of things. But since I WILL be judged for shipping home spice packets and sea weed, I guess I’m going to start eating 1 American treat a day. Seriously, I have that much. I even have things from the first package I received. Yup, it’s that crazy up in this hood.

BUT it’s a good thing since the mail has been cut off. Heading home in 3 months means no more presents. You just never know when things have to vacation in Bermuda before coming here.

Now that I’m back at work I’m scrambling to finish projects and pass all the reins over. I don’t have any more afterschool programs (we haven’t started up since I just returned to site). But I may need one more go-around to finish off my service. I do have a few groups in nearby villages that I need to meet with. Time to convince my counterparts to file our transport forms! I’m excited for my outreach lunch! They always boil their eggs so much nicer than me.

Yeah…step one to readjusting to America will probably have to be cooking lessons. Meh, life’s an adventure when you don’t measure. But it could also become a horror flick. Just saying…