The Fun That Was Peace Corps Guyana - Mark's Blog

Postings from just north of the equator. Let's see if training in CPR and First Aid prepares me to teach Health Education in a small, remote village in Guyana. I'm thinking... no. Read all about this ill advised decision! In addition, here is the required Peace Corps disclaimer: "The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the US government or the Peace Corps." So, please, don't confuse me with the White House Press Secretary.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

It gets more real...

About a week ago I made my plane reservations for Peace Corps. So now I am leaving San Francisco on Monday, January 30th on a non-stop flight to Miami. Orientation begins on Tuesday at 2PM. This goes on for about two and half days. As far as I can tell, we sit in big rooms, listen to lectures, fill out paperwork, get shots of vaccines and whatnot, and generally question our decision to move to a third world country in South America. It sounds like fun! Then on February 2nd, we fly to Georgetown, Guyana (through Barbados). And the mistake of a lifetime begins.

So I'm getting a little anxious. I have things to do, but I could probably get them done in about three days. However, I have two weeks. The few friends that I have still in San Francisco suck because they have jobs. So I basically sit and stare at the walls of room. Which reminds me of the stupid little things I need to get done before I leave, such as dismantling my bedroom. I dread this for a few reasons, though I also want to do it. My room is a timewarp to high school. I have newspaper clippings of Michael Jordan, Mark McGuire, and other great sports accomplishments of the MID TO LATE 1990s!!! Crazy. On top of that, I've mixed in a few posters of ladies in bikinis, including one of Pamela Anderson. Pamela?! What was I thinking? I mean, I know what I was thinking, but still... It's slightly depressing everytime I go in there. But it's going to take so much effort and I am uncommonly lazy about things like this. So I'm battling that.

But basically, I get to sit and let my nerves eat me up. I'm truly excited, but I can do nothing to make it start any faster. So I must sit in anticipation of the unknown. And as I sit, I begin to question my decisions. Of course, my decisions have all pertained to what I've bought to bring down. So I look at my shoes and try to decide if they work or if I need to return them and get a new pair. And I think if I have enough business casual. And then, of course, I question what the hell business casual means in Guyana. I hardly have a sense of what it means in the US. And then I pull my hair out because these are such petty things to think about. I really just want to start this thing! Let's get to Guyana and begin my life-changing experience, okay?!

Anyways, that's what's going on here. I sign my living will on Friday. You know who my beneficiaries are? My children. So... if you anyone is or knows any of my children, let me know. Because if I don't have any, which is the impression I'm under, then my nieces and nephews are the beneficiaries. But there's still time for me to change that. And no, I don't mean that I could have a baby. So if anyone wants something of mine, like my kick-ass grey North Face fleece that I seem to wear about four times a week, claim it now. I know Peter, Tippy, and the Captain are going to fight over my OutKast CDs.


At 4:52 AM, Blogger Tippy said...

Mark, I want your entire music collection. Furthermore, I would call dibs on your camera and those new shoes you are debating taking back. If you keep them, and then need to bequeath them to someone, I'm your guy.- Tippy


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