Yankee swap is like Machiavelli meets...Christmas

Yeah, well, Americans are slow. Patrick and Ryan, another of the trainees, decided it would be a great idea to race our Jamaican trainers at the University. It was so not. Originally it was supposed to be a 4x400, but the trainers backed out unless we made it a 4x100. Tiffanie and I somehow got dragged into the scheme. None of us are sprinters, I do not know what we were thinking. I feel that the handoffs were our downfall. We would’ve lost no matter what, but it may have been less embarrassing without Patrick almost bowling Tiffanie over. Someone videotaped it. I bet it’s on youtube. As a team we got roasted, but Patrick made up some ground. It’s irrelevant really, we lost miserably. Disgrace to our country. I think that the girl I raced against felt a little insulted that we were even trying. We should’ve made them stick with a longer race. Anyway, after that we went to the beach!! Yay beach! It was crooowded. But it was gorgeous. White sands, aqua waters, partly blue skies. Lovely. I swallowed so much salt water. We had delicious vegetarian food from a stand ran by a Rasta man. So good. I had my first guinep as well. Guineps are fruit. They are pale green and grow in clusters. They’re a bit bigger than a grape. You peel the skin off and pop the whole thing in your mouth. And then you grimace because it is weird and slimy and stringy. You suck all of the pink skin off the giant pit and then spit out the pit. Then you eat another one even though you are not sure how you felt about the first one. Mostly the slightly sour taste is fun, and it gives you something to do. Like chewing sunflower seeds.

Your pencils are creating a health hazard. I could fall and pierce an organ

Peace Corps training is brutal. There is so much material to cover that we spend damn near 12 hours a day at the training area. We do get some breaks but overall the days are grueling. I understand that there is a ton of material to get through in a short time, but it doesn’t make the days go by faster. In fact at times I feel like Bill Murray in Groundhog’s Day because the scenery doesn’t really change, much of the information is repeated, etc. But all of the PCV (Peace Corps volunteers) say that training is the worst part of the experience. If that’s true Erin and I should have a pretty fun time.

Also I should not say all of training has been horrible. In fact most of our nights have been split up playing football (the soccer kind) with some Jamaicans, playing poker, and hanging out with new friends. In fact last night we ordered Dominos buy one get one free pizza, drank a Guinness, and watched Boondock Saints on the wall of our dorm courtyard on a projector we borrowed from PC staff. On the subject of Guinness… it is very different here. It is still dark and delicious, but the texture and taste are both different from other Guinness I have had. Red strip makes a stout called ‘Dragon’ something or other. It is not my favorite beer but its alcohol content is like 9% or something crazy which could account for the 'different' taste. I would like to note that here in Jamaica people don't really drink to get drunk. That would be socially unnacceptable. So I would just like to elaborate that we (Erin, Patricio, and the rest of our group 78) have been drinking responsibly, mainly just sharing a 6 pack amongst a few people to cool off from the heat.

There was a lot of debate before I left as to whether or not I should bring my nice sport coat. Well I ended up with it but will probably never wear it. At the end of August we will be swearing in and I will probably be dressed in a salmon-colored three piece suit with matching snakeskin shoes. I’ll give everybody a minute to come up with the visual… Alright so maybe not the salmon color but another volunteer Ryan, from KU, and I are heading to a tailor on Saturday to have suits custom made. And the remarkable thing about this is that the guy who had this done last year said it only cost about $5500 J (which is the equivalent of about $80 US). So I am pretty excited about showcasing my primo style at the $72 million dollar US embassy. I am actually posting twice tonight because I wrote the first one the day after Erin posted. Since then Prime Minister Portia Simpson-Miller, aka Sista P, announced elections. Erin and I should be able to wear green again by the middle of September. Woo Hoo!!

Patwa Lesson 2: There is no plural suffix for nouns. In English we would add an ‘s’ to the end of most words. But in Patwa they follow the noun with dem to show that it is plural. Here are some examples:
carts kyaart dem children pikni dem
boys bwai dem
Hope you enjoy the Patwa. I miss you all. “And that’s all I got to say about that”
Patricio

Can I trust Jim? I don't know. Do I have a choice? No, frankly, I don't. Will I trust Jim? Yes. Should I trust Jim? You tell me.

Waagwaan (what’s up) All right, Erin has posted a couple of times and now it is my turn. Just so I can get it out of the way early… the quote at the beginning is about Dwight stuffing himself in a box, which directly relates to sending Erin and me packages. If you want to send us a package we will try to update every now and then of a wish list of sorts. There is a ton of stuff that we can get here in Jamaica and therefore don’t need that we figured we would in the beginning. But based on recent revelations, we can wear flip-flops, jeans, t-shirts, etc. so there are things we could use. We don’t want anybody to feel obligated by any means, but if you feel so inclined… Here is our address:

Patrick Mazi
c/o Country Director
Howard Anderson
US Peace Corps
8 Worthington Avenue
Kingston 5.
Jamaica, West Indies

This address is mainly for packages. Packages are actually okay because being labeled through the Peace Corps gets them a sort of free ride through customs. HOWEVER, please make sure that you fill out the declaration section and post it on the package or it will get opened and cause a huge hassle for everyone involved.

Thus far there are three things that I am working on to make my adjustment into a Jamerican (that’s Jamaica crossed with an American for those a bit slow on the uptake). They are as follows:
1) The heat. Not that the heat is all that oppressive. I would much rather be hanging in Kingston in July than in KC. It is not as though you walk outside and the humidity smacks you in the face like in the Midwest. However, the heat here is omnipresent. At breakfast it is hot, at bedtime it is hot, and definitely during the day it is hot. There is no escaping it and this manifests itself in increased fatigue. I realize many of you are thinking, “ But Patrick, you worked outside for the waterproofing company. Aren’t you used to the heat and being outside?” Well, yes I am and I am. I feel like I am acclimating myself more efficiently. The problem is just that there is just not much of a break from the heat. Like say the air conditioning in one’s car. No we walk everywhere here in the gorgeously bright but hot, hot sun.
2) Breakfast. Here Breakfast is a big deal. I realize I capitalized the B in breakfast and that was for subtle emphasis. So subtle I thought it best to point it out. Breakfast here consists of saltfish and Ackee (Jamaica’s national dish), fried plantains, boiled bananas, fruit of all kinds, toast, juice, Kallaloo which is fried greens and they’re spicy, and chicken frankfurters. Basically it is a large mostly hot meal. So being used to cereal and coffee, I am making an adjustment. But the coffee here is wonderful so that makes things easier.
3) Good Night. Good night here does not really mean ‘I am heading to bed.’ It is the greeting one uses when it is dark. Like good morning before noon, we use good night as a nighttime hello. I rather like the usage but it is new and I am getting better at remembering to use it.
Well before I head out Erin and I wanted to make sure we teach y’all some Jamaican Patwa/Patois. I figured that I would teach it in no particular order that way upon our return we can talk about everyone at parties and family gatherings without you guys knowing what we are saying.

Patwa Lesson 1: When wanting to express emphasis much like the English use of the word ‘too,’ patwa speakers double the adjective. Here are two examples:
The child is too fearful Di pikni fredi-fredi
They greeted me half-heartedly Dem did griit mi fenki-fenki

Well I love you all. Waak gud!

Patrick

No, this is what advice is, "never bring your purple belt to work beacuse someone might steeeal it."

So there is a cow getting molested behind our dorms. It’s what wakes us up in the morning. Well, that and the Celine Dion that is blasting from some loud speaker. I forgot to mention that in my last post. I’m itchy. Perhaps the internet isn’t the best place to air my medical concerns. Being here, you learn to appreciate the “likkle” things, like cold showers (the best part of my day) and breezes. A slight breeze is the difference between comfort and misery. Today we got rain for the first time. Apparently Kingston doesn’t get too much rain. It only lasted a few minutes but it felt heavenly. We met a guy with a flat screen who gets football games, we are hoping he also gets college basketball and baseball games. I don’t miss TV at all, but it would be a travesty to miss another march madness. We eat a lot of chicken. Fried chicken, BBQ chicken, sweet and sour chicken, curry chicken. I wish we could eat the cow behind our dorms. For fast food here we have pattis. I didn't spell that incorrectly, by the way. Pattis are these fried flaky things with chicken, beef, lobster, shrimp, or veggies inside. Kind of like hot pockets. They are arait. Also not a misspelling. I am struggling to learn Patwa. Mostly it is an oral language and I am becoming frustrated at my inability to spell it. I meant to bring some to post. See what ya'll can make of it. I forgot though. Lata perhaps. So not only did we arrive in the midst of hurricane season, it is also election time!! Sista P (the Prime Minister) is supposed to call elections sometime in the next few months. The place we are in now is a fairly volatile political area, so we can't wear the colors of either major political party around town. These colors include red, yellow, GREEN, and orange. Yeah, I am so screwed. We are all hoping that elections will be called soon so that we can quit wearing only blue and white. I also forgot our address, but I will kindly ask Patrick if he would like to post something later this week and perhaps include our address, or we may email it. Things I would enjoy having sent include, more Bullfrog (sunscreen), dressy slippers (this means flip flops that are leather or just nicer than the $3 Old Navy ones, although I wouldn't mind a pair of those either, I can't believe I didn't bring any!!!). That's really all for now. We miss you!!

Why do I like Hooters? Two reasons, the boobs and the hot wings.

So I woke up this morning covered in a rash. Literally covered. I was not amused. I am pretty sure that it is heat rash, and one of the volunteers said that her friend had it all two years he served. If this is the case, ya'll will be seeing my spotted white hide very soon. I do not want to be the weird speckled white girl. Today we were allowed off the campus where we are training for the first time. Right into downtown Kingston. We were the only white people there. Let me say that again, the ONLY. Small children were pointing at us because they had never seen a white person before. The lottery here uses symbols instead of numbers and one of the symbols is a white person. Apparently the random appearance of 60 "whiteys" in the middle of the market was seen as an omen, and everyone rushed to include the white guy on their lottery ticket. Awesome. A helpful gentleman we encountered upon disembarking from the bus warned me that the "sun'll burn ya, baby." It was thoughtful of him to share his concerns for my welfare. So it's hot here. Not really any hotter or more humid than Missouri in August, but more unrelenting. There is no air conditioning in which to duck. I actually gathered the energy to run today. I ran circles on the grass track at the university while Patrick played football (the real kind) at a nearby pitch. Mostly I got embarrassed by this wee Jamaican girl of about 6, who raced me for a lap. She was wearing a jean skirt and she had no shoes on and she was maybe waist high, and she definitely kept up with me. And Patrick was kicked in the thumb. We're almost totally surrounded by mountains where we are now. It is gorgeous. Last night we climbed a palm tree (almost definitely against some rule or another) and grabbed some coconuts to pass around. Our rooms are kind of cool, the windows are open and have shutters to let the air in. There are four bedrooms and one shower and kitchen per little "cluster" and the clusters are arranged by fours around a courtyard. Our courtyard has been the scene of most of the action the last few nights. I really can't say any more. Euchre can get pretty crazy.

I suggested we flip a coin, but Angela said she doesn't like to gamble. Of course by saying that, she was gambling that I wouldn't smack her

Goodbye USA. In about 12 hours we will say farewell to you and step onto Jamaican soil. WooHoo! I just know it is going to be a land of lollypop street lights and gumdrop mailboxes. A land where all drinking fountains spout chocolate milk and the goats lactate beer. I suppose then they would not be lactating at all but you all get the picture. Anyway this is a pic of a newspaper elephant mask that I had to rip into shape behind my back. I think it turned out well. Plus everybody loves an Erinphant.

To infinity and beyond!