…so poverty heat and patience truly do take on brand new meanings here...never in my life have i seen such grinding, desperate, seemingly endless and hopeless poverty. it’s easier to get used to because there’s really no disparity of wealth (except between rich foreign volunteers, most of whom - apart from peace corps - live in huge houses and drive SUVs). when mud huts and endless fields of yams are all you see, it becomes your reality and it doesn’t seem so poor anymore.

but then there are times when i find myself thinking, oh, life isn’t so bad for my neighbors, and at that point i’m a little too well-integrated and blinded by my village goggles, one could say.

and what to do? the UN development agency just put forth a study featured in an "emerging africa" special on BBC in which they highlighted the importance of a well-educated net generation to lead this continent out of its “seemingly endless dark age.” ten years ago, they said, we thought africa was poised to break onto the world stage and here we are, 2003, lost as ever -?

i sometimes think i’d best serve this country providing target practice for potential stevie snipers (my dad can explain that one for those who aren’t hip to the lingo of the politically repressed), but then that’s what many think about hussein and there are just more like him waiting to step up to the plate and subjugate yet another generation...

heat, well, what can i say, i’ve been hot before, but i’ve always been able to escape to air conditioning or at least a fan at some point. here...well, yeah, there’s none of that. A/C exists in lomé, and there are probably 5 pools in country; i can get my hands on a cold fanta once a week if i’m lucky (when i go to get my mail in the next town which has a buvette)...so yeah, it’s a new level of HOT for me and hot season is just about to start this month. but hey, i must be getting stronger, right?!

and then there’s patience, that famous peace corps virtue extolled by so many but never truly understood until you realize that every time you leave your house you will be pointed out, laughed at (mostly good-naturedly), heckled, harassed, and asked repeatedly for money and gifts. patience is grinning through your 145th marriage proposal of the day and keeping your temper when people tell you they want you to take their children back to the states with you. patience is accepting that everyone you meet, everyone you become close with, everyone that means anything to you in togo, wants something from you - and that’s okay, because who can blame them? patience is realizing that it will be a while before you can begin to trust anyone, and patience is being kind to yourself in a way that seems so selfish here.

i’ve spent the past 6 months beating myself up because i can’t figure out how to save togo, and it’s got to stop before i go nuts. but that, too, is an important lesson...i believe maybe i’m learning (slowly) how not to be so hard on myself. maybe...

all of this is to say that i learn and am hit with so many things every day as soon as i wake up and leave my house, and damned if it isn’t exhausting and often upsetting; but i’d rather be exhausted because i’m demanding the most out of my life and drained because i’m trying so hard, than frustrated that i’m not doing my part.

am i doing my part? i often don’t know, but it’s worth a shot...

anyway, i’ve got 20 more months to figure it out.