The morning I had an altercation with a dog

I've been exercising pretty regularly since I got here. I try to run in the mornings before class. I have to stick to the main road because it's the safest, and the most level. Although there are parts that share an alarming resemblance to the lunar surface. So I was running the other morning, and have run passed dogs before, but this particular mutt was sleeping on the side of the road, about 10 feet away, and as I passed, he picked his head up and charged, teeth bared. I stopped and faced him, and some of my fellow trainees were out running also, but had passed me by. They said they heard me yelling from about a quarter mile away. He got pretty close, but backed of when I raised a fist. Nothing like having a face-off with wildlife in the city in of a third world country. Good times. Next time I guess I'll run with rocks.

Other than that, everything is going well. I've become rather adept at washing my laundry by hand. Although drying things in the sun makes them kinda stiff. Like the little korean lady at the dry cleaners took some creative liberty with the starch. It's especially bad with towels. I brought a couple big beach towels that are designed to absorb about as much fluid as a Texas sized diaper. This makes them difficult to wring out, and they take much longer to dry than anything else. But now I know how the Flinstones must have felt, because it feels like you're trying to dry off with a piece of slate.

This week, I'm travelling down to the Southwest corner of the country, to a city right on the Brazilian border. Everyone is visiting a currently working volunteer to see what life is like for them. So I'm sure I'll have uber awesome stories and pictures by next week.

Oh! Important note: I did get a cell phone down here. So, if you want to call me down here, feel free! But, you should make sure you check your international calling rates before you get sucked dry. Financially speaking, of course. Now, without further ado...

011-592-671-7041

So call me if you desire the sultry sound of my voice!

One love,

Tony

And now for something completely different...

I'm currently sitting at the little internet cafe that could in the town near where I live. I'm on the northern coast of Guyana for training, and I like the coast much more than Georgetown. Although going out at night is a little unnerving due to potential dog attacks, and going out during the daytime is strange due to potential goat attacks. But it is what it is.

My host family is fantastic. My host dad Mickey officially knows EVERYBODY along the coast, and has subsequently introduced me to each and every one of them. He told me that he loves taking out because I fit in and get along with everybody. I suppose I just have some social superpowers. Last weekend, for example, he took me to an Indian wedding. And I mean actual Indian, not like politically incorrect ignorant ass Christopher Columbus Indian. Anyway, we ate a dish, aptly named 7 curry due to the seven types of curry present in the leaf (yes, as in tree leaf) that I ate it out of. With my hands. It was amazing. Also, weddings here are more like rock festivals, where they go for days at a time and only about 4 people remember what they actually did there. Then on Sunday I ate mutton. No joke. Curried mutton. The man who's daughter just got married came over and talked with us for awhile, and after I expressed my affinity for rum, he then proceeded to give me a sample from a 10 year old bottle made right here in Guyana. It was worthy of Zues himself. Or Franco, the Guyanese god of spirits and inebriation. That's not true. They don't have a god for that.

Anyway, I'm meeting tons of people, and blending in socially, if not aesthetically. White boys kinda stick out here. Except my buddy Antoine, who is the biggest black dude I've ever seen off a basketball court. We're pals. He's from California and is an accurate depiction of everything I expect a Californian to be. He's also sitting next to me right now so I can write all this.

That's all for now.

As the Guyanese say,

One love,

Tony

Greetings from Guyana!

My friend Nicole is prone to making rather odd statements. Just before I left, she exclaimed "Living in poverty is AWESOME." As of now, I'd have to agree with her. Guyana is beautiful. Although I will have to get used to the chronic swamp ass. The most notable thing is the fruit. It grows everywhere, and it is literally taken from the tree, mashed up, and put into a cup for the best juice of all time.

Everyone here is incredibly nice and excited for us to be here. Yesterday in the bank, a group of us were setting up our accounts, and I spoke with one of the gentlemen who works there. He was so impressed with what we're attempting to do, that he gave me his phone number (insert awkward joke here) and told me that he and his wife and kids would love to take us to dinner, or if we were ever in Georgetown and needed a place to stay, we could call him.

The first night, I slept like a baby, only to wake up and find my arm could be read like braille. I mean, at least a short story. I had slept on my side, and my left arm was outside the sheet, ripe for the picking for all those mosquitoes. Score.

I'm rushing to type this in the lounge of Peace Corps headquarters in Georgetown, so if it is of a lower quality than my previous posts, I apologize. Anyway, so far so good, lots of fun. Everyone I've met has been way cool so far.

Until I get some awesome diarrhea...Let's cross out fingers!

More to come when I have the chance!

All my love,

Tony

So long and thanks for all the fish.

Hey all,

First I wanted to thank everyone who came out last weekend to both extravaganzas. It was great to see you all and meant a lot to have so many people come see me off. To those who missed the party at my parent's, you also missed out on some particularly fantastic food, including dessert in the form of an awesome cake that my sister had made for me. To those who missed the pub crawl, boy did you miss it. We started out at Deschutes brewery, and had to have four tables for all the people. Apparently I network more than the Vietcong. Cool.

I knew this move was for real when I had to pack up all my videogames and put them in the attic the other day. It was a tragic event, so I had Taps playing while I ascended the attic stairs. Colby sat nearby and saluted. The moment is best described as hauntingly beautiful. See also: completely fictitious. Colby can't salute worth jack.

As of this writing, I have one more day left in Oregon, then I'm off. Just about everything is packed, and I sure hope I haven't forgotten anything. Like the one weekend when I came home from Eugene, and packed all these nice clothes to go out with friends and stuff but forgot to bring more underwear. Little things like that.

Finally, to all those concerned, I have decided to return for a stint during my excursion. I'll be back for a week or two in June of 2011 for my darling mother's 50th birthday. So plan accordingly to celebrate my mom first and foremost, then you can give me the obligatory head nod or high five, even a hug, if you're feeling saucy. Just know that I during that trip I will require beer and Mashita's, but not necessarily in that order or at the same time.

More to come soon, so long for now.

Until next time,

Tony