WISH I COULD'VE GONE WITH RYAN ON THAT COOL RETREAT! JAN HAS PLASTIC BOOOBS! I HAVE HEMORRHOIDS !

There is a small child that lives with his family in the apartment above us. He is probably 3-4 years old and has an abundance of energy. Every morning, without fail, the thumping of his little feet running laps around his house awakens me. This usually happens around 5 o’clock, which amazes me because you hear the thud, thud, thud all day long until late at night. How does this kid run on 3 hours of sleep? How does Baby Huey make the thunderous floor pounding so loud? Does he quadruple in size when he crosses the threshold of his home because he is only like 35 inches tall and 35 pounds? Trying to figure out the physics of the huge decibels this track star in training produces, hurts my head. The only thing I can figure is he times his steps perfectly to sync with the previous vibrations and makes use of resonance and amplification… like when a moderate breeze destroys a bridge. For real people, google “resonance AND bridge.” Seriously, go do it. The video is pretty crazy.

Anyway the kid makes a ton of noise. A few days ago, Erin and I think that his parents locked him out on the porch. We feel pretty sure of our assumption as he wailed his little heart out and rattled the iron door grill creating a cacophony that eclipsed his floor thuds. This morning however he has resorted to vociferously hollering while running his requisite house laps. Oi, Ich habe Schmerz in meinen Kopf!

Sorry again for not posting in a while. My battle with Fail and Worthless continues and it seems as though I only deserve to have Internet connection two days every other week.

Erin and I are fanatically excited about our visit home. I can almost smell the wonderful BBQ and taste delicious pale ale. Oh most palatable treats of KC, I can hardly wait to imbibe upon your treasured delights! I am also excited to see family and friends. If any of you can’t wait to see us any longer than you have to, you are more than welcome to meet us at the airport or at Chipotle shortly thereafter.

Maybe Erin will post more when she gets around to writing a blog. I just wanted to post so everybody knows we are still alive.

If the oceans were whiskey and I were a duck, I’d run to the oceans and drink them all up…Patrick Mazi

ps Jesse~ Emailing questions will probably yield you more insightful answers as we are somewhat forced by Peace Corps to self-censure what goes on our blog. So if you want more detailed answers or have more personal questions, feel free to email me at pbmazi@gmail.com. Plus when you, or any other group 79er, know they are coming to Jamaica, email me about what we wish we would have packed. Who knows… if you want Erin and I could probably talk to our friends and post some sort of packing list a la the Tight Pants blog (as it helped us quite a bit, but is starting to get outdated).

pps Scott~ I am at best a very enthusiastic amateur rock climber. I spent a lot of time during my junior/senior year of college climbing. But alas climbing in Missouri is limited to mostly limestone thus my experience is fairly limited. I have gazed longingly at many exposed rock faces and wished I had brought my climbing gear (and more importantly wished I had someone to climb with). Getting to these areas would be a chinch, but getting home would be a problem unless a taxi was chartered. This doesn’t really make sense for me alone, but if you, or other climbers, end in Jamaica I would probably get exponentially more excited about making the effort.

There are four kinds of business. Tourism, food service, railroads and sales. And hospitals slash manufacturing. And air travel.

I warned all of you not to get used to frequent postings. The reason we have not posted in awhile is we have not had access to Internet. The provider of the World Wide Web here in Jamaica is ‘Cable and Wireless’ and it is my personal belief that this company has the worst business practices EVER. You may be saying to yourself, “Patrick don’t be silly, the worst EVER?! Aren’t you being a bit superlative?” No, I am not over-exaggerating. I have been locked in an epic battle with Cable and Wireless that is worthy of immortality in a Homeric poem. I realize that having Internet access in my home is a luxury not available to most Peace Corps posts. I should be thankful I am able to email friends and family regularly, look up lesson plans, and have a creative outlet such as our blog. But it is incredibly frustrating when I am used to having such amenities and they suddenly go away with no explanation. When I try to call Cable and Wireless (loving called “Fail and Worthless’) they have no idea what is wrong, can give me no idea when I can expect service again, then have the gall to ask me for payment. Why would I pay for a service I have not received?

Not a whole lot has really happened in the past week since we posted a blog. But I will try to provide some interesting commentary so that those of you that check out the ol’ blog with any frequency can get your fix.

Instead of calling February 29, 2008 ‘Leap Day,’ I am going to forever remember it as ‘The Day My Butt Went to Sleep.’ In order to find out what happened to me that caused my derriere to go numb, we are going to do the rest of this blog ‘choose your own adventure’ style.

→Okay so if you think that I spent 10+ hours on a minibus continue reading on in the next paragraph.
→If you think that I got my ass paddled like a freshmen by Ben Affleck a la Dazed and Confused, continue to the p.s. part of my blog… at the very end.

I was scheduled to arrive in Kingston for a 1 o’clock meeting of the PC student council, aka VAC. I left the house at 8 o’clock thinking 5 hours would be plenty of time to travel 110 miles. Who has two thumbs and completely misjudged the unreliability of public transportation in Jamaica? This guy! Two short jaunts in a taxi and 5 hours on a minibus later I get to the PC office only to be told the meeting was unnecessary and had already happened (side note to incoming PCVs… fill out grant request forms correctly so I don’t travel all across the freakin’ country for no reason). Well, Ryan and I treated ourselves to some Wendy’s before catching a taxi back to the bus park. Reluctantly I got back on the bus and though I was dreading the return trip to MoBay I was at bit pleased because I was able to snatch up one of the best seats on the bus.

→ If you think that I gave up such prime real estate to a flustered young mother and her infant continue reading in the next paragraph.
→ If you think I keep my head down and enjoyed what would have been a vastly more comfortable ride… slap yourself for thinking me such an asshole.

Yep. I gave one of the best seats on the bus to the young mother and her baby. What a completely terrible idea. What was I thinking? Damn chivalry, why won’t you die?!

When it comes to public transportation on island, there are good (actual) seats, the very front seat or any seat next to a window. The rows closer to the door usually get squished as more people are packed in. The worst seats are the ‘jump seats.’ They are rickety contraptions of the southern engineering variety that go in the aisles. Not only did I give up my seat next to a window, I succeeded in getting the jump seat right next to the door. So for the journey home I sat uncomfortably squeezed in the aisle on the only jump seat without a back. So yeah, my rump was completely without feeling about 15 minutes into the 5-hour return journey.

This was not my only rear related problem this week. While singing ‘cabeza, hombros, rodillas, y pies,’ I was bending over to touch my ‘pies’ and one of the students proceeded to credit card me with a large seed pod. Those of you unfamiliar with getting credit carded, think about sliding your credit card through the machine at the grocery store, now think about a kindergartner doing that with a seedpod to my gluteal cleft. Though I was feeling shocked, violated, and a bit emasculated, I was to finish my lesson. Note to self… protect family jewels from miniature fists of fury and protect the plumber parts (sorry Tony, with so much crack talk I couldn’t resist) from errant seedpods. The things one learns by teaching 5 year-olds.

We have been taking a bunch of pictures of our kids to share with all of you interested when we come home. Sorry for those of you who want them posted on the blog. Our boss asked us not to post pics of the kids and we are honoring his request. Also our camera situation is a bit of a problem. I am grateful to my father for gifting us Jen’s hand-me-down camera as we have gotten quit a bit of use out of it. The only problem is it takes 5-10 seconds to take the picture once you hit the button, it is larger than what is comfortable to carry in a pocket, and it chews through batteries like that’s its job. These three things prevent us from taking more pictures. The first two make us look incredibly touristy, a label we fight daily, or make us look like CIA. I don’t really understand the CIA thing, but it was told to me. I guess I can see it… a random white guy walking around taking pictures of people and things in places that don’t see many tourists. It doesn’t really seem that big of a stretch when I put it like that.

That’s all I have to say and I mean it… anybody want a peanut? Patricio

p.s. If Ben Affleck ever showed up at my baseball game and tried to paddle my butt I would pound his craptastic-movie-making face in.

Does anyone actually know what Sue Grafton looks like? I mean is she hot or?

So I have a tooth growing in. I'm guessing that it is a wisdom tooth. Who knows, I didn't get my 12 year old molars until I was like 16, maybe it is another of those. All I know is that the dentist said that I would make it a few more years without having to have my 3 wisdom teeth out. Liar. Now my mouth hurts and and I'm starting to look British. Also I am afraid to scratch any random itches because I am worried it is more ringworm. I had dream about Budweiser last night. Mmmm, nice cold bottles. Yeah, so not much going on, I'm diseased, Patrick is full of pumpkin cake and locked in a battle with the internet company that would make Alan proud. We're trying something new at SOS and it is a ton of work on our part. It's difficult to plan activities for all ages and abilities. I dared to search through the forest of ideas we got during training. All it did was make me feel okay about finally throwing it all away.

I just wanted to let you all know we survived the week, I don't have anything to say really. Perhaps Patrick will want to add more when he awakens from his pumpkin cake coma.

Jesse- As for the wearing of rings, we do not own them and so do not wear them. This is for personal reasons and not related to our service. We've noticed that the other couples wear plain bands. In some cases a wedding ring may cut back on the harassment, but I doubt it helps much. Most harassers don't take the time to notice your jewelry and even if they do, your marital status does not deter them. I don't think you have to worry too much about having your rings stolen. When Patrick was mugged, they were concerned with his phone and cash. Most of the theft is picking of wallets and phones, your rings will probably be safe as long as they are plain and simple.