All Grownsd Up

How lucky can one lady be to have these PortuGALs as best buddies. It's that time of year again where I got to take another adventure with some of the loveliest ladies I know.....and here's a bit on how things have changed and stayed the same since our last adventure.......

Pyramids check and double check, as we age the only thing to worry about is our knees

All Grown Up and still pointing at the few pairs of raw boobs we could see in Ericeira

All Grown Up and still posing like statues

Grown Up wine tasting = appreciating port in the Douro Valley

Thumbs up or the Peace Sign is for babies. Mature photo move = jazz hands

Grown Up = scholarly times on vacation. Knocking down the doors of one of Europe's oldest Universities 

A mature moment of scholarly thought

Boogie boarding, nah, grown ups surf

Any vacation where you spend most of your time in matching robes means you've finally arrived

More than impressed with Portugal's food, even when I couldn't understand the menu and just guessed

Never too old to frolic OR high five, next sign of maturity is a jazz hand frolic

Maturity - understanding that sometimes you miss. I missed the Olympics and these ladies helped me celebrate the red, white and blue with a tribute while showing Douro that while we might be PortuGALs, American pride runs deep 

Exercising while wine tasting = mature multi-tasking

Kayaking while drinking out of a bottle in bubble wrap - I'll leave that up to you to answer

I should have mentioned that we had an extra buddy join our journey this year even if she has always been with us in spirit....and yes it's extremely mature to travel with cut-outs of a celebrity 'friend'. 

The last three days Courtney and I basically exemplified being on vacation at 31 - we ate gelato, read our books, talked about our books, soaked up sun and sea and sand, played darts with 23 year old Canadians, and revisited our hopes and dreams. 

My Mom on her 60th birthday told me that every decade has gotten better than the last, and I can not help but agree with friends like these. Looking forward to all the coming adventures PortuGALs

If you asked me ten years ago, what I thought I would be doing in the August of my 31st year, I could have never imagined what is my reality. I've said it countless times here on this blog, but it needs said again - I am one lucky girl. Lucky not only to have great friends, but that somehow we are still having so much fun. Here's a few of the highlights of our latest adventure in Portugal......

Maturity:  While sometimes I have moments of 'what am I doing with my life' especially as baby and wedding photos abound Fbook, I am soothed by the fact that I have awesome friends thinking the same thing. One year ago I wrote about how we were 30 years old and still making up dances in foreign countries and I promised you that in a year's time we would still be doing the same - well, I have some progress for you. This year we did not make up dances, but instead made a music video on bicycles. How's that for age related milestones? We made a friend our second day in Portugal who asked what hostel we were staying at, and our joint 31 year old cringe was probably visible. Yet our luxurious B&B was only slightly more expensive than said hostel - strategic and comfortable = we've arrived. And in all seriousness, this trip to Portugal made me feel like a real adult even if I'm not married or with child (other than my dear food baby that I fed healthily on this trip). We combined party time with sports and fear factoring, and education and history with statue posing, and port tasting with robe relaxing. When I think of where I'd like to be at 31, there's no better combination I can think of.

Friends:  This is the longest in my 2.5 years away that I have gone without seeing friends from the US or going to the US, and even with the miles and the time passing, one thing that is so refreshing about old (in time not in age;)) friends is their ability to call you out and make you accountable for how you're acting. I don't get enough of that these days and sometimes I worry that I'm lost in a maze in my head without any signposts or wake-up calls that can come from those near and dear. And in true maturity, there were a few 'hot flashes' on this trip, including one of my own where I threw a tantrum for being hot in a restaurant or another where I couldn't hang for fireworks, and two other unnamed people's tantrums when the Fado and veal weren't up to par. You know you can travel anywhere with people when those are the fights/drama that you're having. Thank you friends for a perfect combination of pensive deep convos, laughter and dancing, sports and silliness, and quiet relaxation. And I need to say a special thank you to Stephanie for seriously planning our whole trip AND bringing a celebrity guest. Next time I promise IGYG

Portugal:  As I warned you, we decided on Portugal in a haze of ham, cheese, castles, and topless surfing. In reality, I didn't actually care where we went, I just wanted to hang with these ladies. And in even more real reality, I had no time to really research Portugal given my crazy life of late, and at the same time I just expected it to be similar to Italy and Spain. So I arrived with little expectation for the place, and more excited for the adventure, and Portugal surprised me at every turn. 1st) The food:  again no expectation and yet their bread is amazing (spongy and grainy at the same time), the seafood is ridiculous (barnacles anyone), and don't get me started on the ginginha. We had countless amazing meals, some in rustic places and some in smancy places and the overwhelming feeling throughout was 'really? portugal?' 2) I've never really cared for port or known anything about Portuguese wines, so again I wasn't expecting much, and I can now tell you that port is to be appreciated, mostly in a robe or while listening to fado. 3) Bathrooms:  So impressed, which is partly a testament to living in Italy and partly a testament to Portugal. In Italy it is near impossible to find the trifecta (soap, toilet paper, and a seat), but in Portugal even gas stations have nice bathrooms and I kept thinking for how much Italians pride themselves on grooming and cleanliness they could learn a thing or two from a Portuguese bathroom. 4) Kindness: I had listened to a Rick Steve's podcast (some of the only prep I did for this trip while lounging at the pool) which had said how kind Portuguese people are, but I was figuring that it was a bit of Rick's typical exaggeration station, when in fact it was over and above what Rick described. One example is when you ask for directions - instead of telling you how to get there, the person walks you there. Or example two, our waiter who kindly made of fool of himself while acting out the head, shoulders, knees and toes dance in the middle of the street to our endless enjoyment. 5) Quaint and hip: Are my best words to describe Portugal. It's a bit of an awesome mixture of undiscovered and artsy/edgy, combined with simple charm.  Lisbon is like San Francisco except less expensive, less polished, and a bit edgier/artsier  = get there before it becomes another Madrid.  Did I mention that we went to a club with a library inside it? You had me at Bom dia Portugal. 6) Language:  Again I did not prepare for this trip, and when I landed I was a bit confounded on whether to speak Spanish or English, and in the end it was a bit of both. We were impressed with how easy it was to get around with English and in those few spots where we were stuck I relied on my Portanol and other than with a cab driver who was eating marbles, it seemed to work. All in all, Portugal was a perfect soft and cozy landing with unexpected delights in a time that I really needed it. So Obrigada, Portugal, you were more than I could have ever imagined

So in a life that keeps surpassing my expectations, I can only attribute it to great friends, maturing, and clean bathrooms

Running in Flip Flops

Lately my life has taken a bit of a tailspin........culminating today in moving in a Mercedes. All I can say (well not all, as you'll see below) is that things keep getting funnier.....

My 'moving van' after off-roading it to a few of Italy's finest dangerous lakes

Jobless and Payless:  I mentioned in my last post (but to catch those of you up that didn't read....) that upon my return from Sierra Leone I found myself unemployed. I found out that this could be a possibility while in SL when I received an email from my boss telling me that HR was blocking my contract renewal suggesting that they would be happy to renew my contract at a rate of 30% less than my starting salary with FAO - and so the hilarity began. During those brutal days in SL I thought to myself, you know what? I wouldn't mind if they can't figure this out in time (Aug 1st) because frankly I'd love some time off, but I didn't ACTUALLY think this battle would still be going on a month later. To add to the laughs, both my paycheck for the month of July and my travel reimbursement from my expenses of over a month in SL are tied up in this contract closure/renewal mess.  And yes, like the true ending hunger soldier that I am, I have continued to go to work since August 1st with the hope that one day all these laughs will turn into cold hard cash, or at the very least future vacation days......

All my worldly belongings, packed up once again

I am accumulating a dangerous amount of belongings if I'm ever going to move back on a plane again.

Homeless:  While the above sounds like a real pain, I've gotten used to FAO's absurdity and was enjoying the fact that I didn't actually have to go to work each day (even though I did). When I got back from SL I was also informed by my landlord that I could stay in my apartment until November - woo hoo! great news especially since it's so cheap.  Flash forward to one week ago when she informed me that actually her son (my former boyfriend, this is cause for a break-up) wanted it back and that I would have to move out within the week. If you've ever pondered moving from a 4th floor apartment with no elevator in the middle of August in Rome, let me tell you it's not very funny. When I received said news from my landlord, I had a momentary freak out which I decided could only be helped by a run up to my happy place the Gianiculum. In my haste to destress, I left the house in what I was wearing - jean shorts and flips flops. If you've ever pondered running up 150 stairs in sweaty flip flops - I will tell you it is kind of funny, especially as you pass puzzled tourists, until you get planter fasciitus as a result. No, that's not an STD, it's basically a stressed ligament in your foot that makes it painful to walk. Also known as an excellent factor in trying to move your 45 kilo suitcases down 4 flights. And while I often like to think I can tackle the world, Paola stepped in and refused to let me contemplate this on my own by lending me a small latino man who did all my lifting for just 30 euro. I should mention my move out day also coincides with the biggest holiday of the year in Italy - Ferragosto, where everything and I mean everything (even rental car companies) shut down.  Luckily I had reserved a car when I got the news from my landlord so there were still some left to pick up the day before they all closed, until I arrived one hour late and they had canceled my reservation. Frantically going to every company, and them all saying "Niente, mi dispiace", I finally found Hertz who had only "big" cars left so I said perfect since I need it to move, even though I wasn't laughing at the price.  "Big" actually meant a Mercedes, which threw me into a fit of giggles. And if you're not laughing yet, please picture this - Me limping, directing a small latino to carry my suitcases and bags and bags of somehow accumulated items down four stories in 104 degree heat to my Mercedes. When he showed up he said - wait, you're going to move in this? Yep, it's 'big' enough don't you think? Ok, if you're really not laughing yet, try this - where am I moving you might ask? Since I have no job I figured I couldn't really sign up for a new apartment, so I'll be moving back into my 1 sq.meter cube, also known as EasyBox, and heading to Portugal to really laugh it up with my besties........When I showed up at EasyBox, my buddies there were so excited that I was back that I truly felt home. *Note: I am ONLY moving in Mercedes now, it just makes the whole experience so much more enjoyable

First dangerous lake up - Bracciano, in honor of Katie and Tom's nuptials years ago. Since I have no tv and hardly a moment to even read the news these days I didn't know they were getting a divorce until we arrived at the lake. That's how I get my news these days - word of mouth

Trevignano, doesn't look so dangerous does it.....but then again you can't see the dangerous mud lurking beneath

We're in the middle, right near the 'vortex'!

Ready to take the first plunge, toes crossed

Ahhhhh, the vortex, the mud, the wind!!!!

Serious time - I Laghi Pericolissimi d'Italia:  Ok enough with all those laughs, the bonus of my extra 'time off' is time to pursue my ongoing research into Italy's dangerous lakes. As I mentioned back in May, Italians have this odd (at least to me, hence said upcoming research) fear of swimming in lakes. For those of you who haven't been reading, ask any Italian if they think lakes or the sea is more dangerous and they will always say lakes. Their reasons include (in order of popularity) - 1) the vortex that sucks you down since the lakes are volcanic and naturally they thus must suck you into the 'former' crater; 2) the very dangerous mud as you enter the lake, which can also suck you down; 3) how people think they can swim across them whereas they would never try to swim across the sea; 4) you can not eat and then go swimming in a lake because the cold water will stop your digestion and kill you instantly; 5) and lastly they site the yearly statistics of how many more people die in lakes than in the sea. I have done my own literature review trying to see if it's just Italy's lakes that have this vortex or if all volcanic likes might have it and surprise - I have not been able to verify that volcanic lakes have a vortex. As far as the statistics,  while told that a Dutch windsurfer recently drowned in Lago di Como, I have not been able to confirm the comparison between sea and lake deaths in Italy. So with all that unconfirmation I figured it was time for some field research.....This past week I went to three of Italy's dangerous lakes - Bracciano (site of Katie and Toms wedding), Martignano (you have to park 4km away, now that is dangerous), and Trevignano (my winner, for cuteness) and I SWAM in all of them. I even ate a huge porchetta sandwich and then went in - GASP, I'm alive. A few findings I'd like to share from my field research - 1) After all those dangers listed, no one warned me about the dangerous Italian pirates on paddleboats in the water. Laura and I were chased by not one, but two pirate paddleboats full of young men, until they finally overtook us and BUMPED our boat. Laura remarked how there seemed to be a lot of aggressive males at the lake. I informed her that she didn't go out enough without her husband and that in fact this is the case in all of Italy. (side note, don't worry we escaped the pirates by pretending not to speak Italian, gets pirates every time).  2) When we tried to venture into the middle of Lake Bracciano with our paddle boat the 'lake police' came to turn us around siting 'the dangerous winds' which I must tell you I didn't feel a hair out of place or a ripple in the glasslike water, but this will be lodged in the official dangers of lakes in Italy - wind; 3) There are less attractive people at lakes than at the sea, even though there seem to be more sports happening at the lakes than the sea, hmmmmm; 4) Some of the lakes, particularly Martignano, have a lot of 'dangerous' hippies barbecuing.

You may not be able to tell in the photo cause I had to be covert, but there is an ambulance waiting on the lakes shores - that's how dangerous it is.

Laura - she didn't want to do it and told me there was no way she was swimming, but you know how bossy I am

And now look who's having a blast

Friends Save the Day: With all this stressful research and hilarious life situation, being with besties couldn't come at a better time. I've said it a million times, but I can't thank you guys enough for coming to visit me. This last week I got to see Wil and Allie on their whirlwind tour through Europe. I started to worry a few days before their arrival, since the temperatures were topping 40 and let's just say, Wil has the largest 'sensitivity to heat' of anyone I know.  I want to just say up front that if you're ever contemplating a trip to Italy, especially Rome, DO NOT COME IN AUGUST. Let me say it loud, and on repeat - DO NOT COME IN AUGUST. Rome is an amazing city eternally, but it will destroy you in August. It's hard to tie your shoes in 40 degrees, much less tour the Colosseum. Wil and Allie had planned five days in Rome, and upon arrival decided to cut it to two after a sweaty first morning running between the Vatican and the Spanish Steps. They weren't sure where to go on the fly for their 3 unplanned days, so I exiled them to Elba to take in the Mediterranean and slow down a bit (after first attempting to keep them in Rome by sending them to the always cool Catacombs = fail). As with all my visitors, I had big plans like feeding them the meatball sandwich I've finally discovered in my neighborhood, the KEYHOLE, but again the Trevi Fountain called. We spent two awesome nights catching up - on the Tiber one night initiating Allie to Grappa, and then one night executing the negotiating skillz I learned from Bob's visit (and now Africa) in Piazza Navona. Oh you want 5 euros for that dancing cat playing Shania Twain, I'll offer you 1. You offer me 2 for 7, I'll offer you 2 for 2 - and guess who won?? That's right, Wil and Allie are now the proud owners of flashing heart headbands and glowy slingshots - what better souvenirs from the eternal city? And speaking of besties, in one day I fly away to see a few more besties for a two week vacay in Portugal......

A few words about the characters joining this year's installment of AugVacayRidiculousness: 1) the repeat performer Steez. By now you should know her well so I don't need to say much, she journeyed to NZed and to Spain and Italy last year, and she never forgets to pack a good time or her NatGeo ability to navigate or best of all, her amazing biceps; 2) another repeat performer from NZed, Reba, known for her ability at accents, getting SkyWired, and white bikini; 3) and the late addition (joined the trip a week ago, yes she's also flying by the seat of her pants, hence why we get along so well) Fidz who you may remember from Ponza last year; she's known for her black magic which takes all forms from influencing the weather to turning her into Britney Spears while discussing hedge funds (I know, hard to get your head around).  And a few words about the destination - Portugal(s). Back in June when we were trying to decide where to go this year and when we determined that two of the team (unnamed) find Africa and Asia a hassle, we focused back on Europe and finding some place that had topless sunbathing and wine tasting within a close vicinity. We hemmed and hawwed between Portugal and Croatia, and finally decided Portugal probably had better ham and cheese and more castles (another requirement if you were reading last year). So there you go, this mess is about to unleash itself onto the shores and hill towns of Portugal in 12 hours. Get your ears ready for the destruction that we are about to do to the Portoguese language. Yes,  my resume says I speak it conversationally, when in fact I know how to ask for a table to be cleaned, so good news for our germs while eating.

And in case you were skimming this blog as I've heard, ahem, some of you have been doing -  running in flip-flops = never a good idea; 2) moving in a Mercedes = always a good idea

La Dolce Vita

When you find yourself unemployed in August in Italy - head to Sardegna with the bestest of hosts the Cadonis

The many grottos of Sardegna

The boat crew and also Paola's family's neighbors and lifelong friends. Thank you to Daniele for shepherding us around

The landscape of Sardegna is a bit of California but more rugged and with turquoiser waters

 

I'm on a boat off the coast of Sardegna, eating paninis with old people - am I in heaven???? Just to add to the heaven factor, Gianetto (Paola's dad) was ready for a panini at 10:30am, a man after my own heart. So while everyone else went snorkeling, I stayed on the boat with these dudes and enjoyed a delicious mortadella panini followed by a nap from the boat rocking me to sleep

Yes I am in fact in heaven

Paola's dad Gianetto with "Silvio" his name for the roasting pork

The eating was soooooo good with the Cadonis on Sardegna that I could barely contain myself

Grazie ancora Cadonis!!!!! (Grazia, Paola, e Gianetto)

I was so happy to return to Italy after Sierra Leone and take advantage of the best month of summer, and also have a bit of down time from the constant working in Sierra Leone. I didn't realize quite how well my wishes would be granted until August 1st when my contract ran out and I still didn't have a new one. The short story is that my bosses have filed the paperwork to renew me until December but HR is saying they've now changed the rules and can only offer me 70% of what I was making before - effective retroactively for my pay for June and July. So yes a big thank you present for working every weekend, sacrificing 5 weeks of summer, and risking my health in Sierra Leone. The only thing I could do was laugh. With no time to spare and my contract expiring, I rushed to have some medical treatments taken care of while I still had insurance and then started thinking about what I should do.......The only dilemma I have is there is still work to be done, so I've decided to work part-time (unpaid) and bank vacation days, and use the rest of my 50% to soak up summer.......and the Cadonis nicely agreed to host me, and oh did they host me.

I've been wanting to get to Sardegna since I arrived in Italy but hadn't managed it yet and then I met Paola who just happens to have parents from Sardegna and a house on the beach. In addition to her other awesome traits, this was seriously pushing her over the edge in terms of best Italian I know, and that was even before I met her family and fell in love. They are both adorable and wouldn't stop trying to feed me more. If I can take a few moments for the food on Sardegna, where do I begin, I think I'm still in a food coma - the desserts are mostly made with cheese (heaven again) and when I asked how to make this one ridiculous thing that is like a thin pancake stuffed with pecorino and fried and then topped with honey - you have to make the cheese! But I will figure out a way to at least try to replicate some of these things, otherwise I'm going to have to go back to Sardegna once a month for a fix -or maybe not since Paola's parents stocked me up with a kilo of pane al sardo (Sardinian bread) desserts, sausage, cheese, honey, and Mirto (the liquor of the Gods). Mirto is made from a berry that grows wild on Sardegna and is basically an after dinner liquor, but so much better than limoncello or grappa. I'm also trying to figure out how to make it........if only those wild berries were easier to hunt down in Rome. I basically spent the whole weekend eating, swimming, sunning, napping, chatting, and plotting how I could convince Paola to marry me or at least her parents to adopt me.

So while I've got some time on my hands, I've also now got time to fill you in on some of my latest cultural exploits and plans -

The bidet:  I have a confession. Even though I've lived here a year and a half now, I've never confronted it (other than that unforgettable night where an unnamed American friend confronted it in Venice years agoooo), nor felt comfortable enough (or remembered) to ask an Italian about it. Well, I've finally conducted a bit of research and can now shed a bit of light that maybe you already know but aren't talking about. First, most Italian homes have soap next to the bidet so it's not just a rinse, it's a wash. Second, almost all Italian homes have bidet towels next to the bidet for you to use after you wash. When I think about this now and how many times I've used the 'hand towel' hanging by the bidet cause I didn't see any others, it's no wonder I have a high tolerance for bacteria in Africa.
And now, I'm also left to think about what everyone was using when they came into my house and I only have 'hand towels' hanging..........And just in case you were wondering, I haven't conducted my own experiment yet on the merits of the bidet, but I will keep you posted as I'm sure you're on the edge of your seat

Laughter:  When I mentioned earlier that the only thing I could do was laugh after being offered 30% than I currently make, while you make think laughter is universal in all languages, it is not.  For example, in English what do we say - ha ha ha. Well in Italian it's ah ah ah, and in Spanish it's je je je, and in French it's hi hi hi. Sooooo ha ah, je hi and repeat

Mind games: As you know, I've now been gone 2.5 years and always been straddling two worlds between where I am and the U.S., because I've always thought the move was temporary.  Living in a constant state of temporary is not only exhausting but a bit limiting. While I'm keeping one foot in the U.S. and one foot here, it's no wonder I'm off balance. And of course as soon as I start to think one way or the other (staying or coming home), I think the other way.......so after saying this many times, I am going to use this extra time off to really think about these things - while on the beach or even better, conducting further research at a dangerous lake

Get busy living or get busy dying

Switched my Colosseum commute for a beach walk to the office from my hotel in Freetown, SL. Maybe equally sweaty and equal stares/catcalls, but far more friendliness on my commute in Salone

Baby I got your money - just half of the stash that I had to carry in my backpack into the rural areas of Salone to distribute for our community consultations. The donor society post-war has created an expectation and culture that for any meeting you have with local people you need to pay them a transport fee (about 5 dollars per person) and a food fee for their time at the meeting (about 2 dollars per person) for a 3 hour meeting in a location within 1-5km of their house. In total I had to carry 18 million Leones (or about 4,500 dollars) in the equivalent of 50 cent piece and 2 dollar bills to distribute to approximately 300 angry community members/giggly kids circled around me.  Let me tell you doing math and counting money under pressure is not my forte = don't hire me as a banker

Listening to rural communities affected by large scale private sector land acquisition. The goal - to hear their complaints and identify solutions

And needless to say it got heated.....most people in these communities are living on less than 2 dollars a day and have had to move or sold their land for 12 dollars a hectare = I would be angry too

Trying to calm things down and focus on solutions......while who knows what the translator was actually saying that I was saying in the local dialect Timney. Maybe creating more heat

At least I had these kids on my side (literally on my back) observing and giggling (even though they might act like they're serious in this photo)

Community consultation team - Dr. Bangura, Director of the Environmental Protection Agency; Lidia; Mr. Cham, Advisor Ministry of Lands and Country Planning; Mr. McFoy, FAO driver; and ME. These guys are my heros (one had malaria and one's brother died while with us) and lifelong buddies. You may wonder why I have a backpack on in a restaurant - did I mention those 18 million Leones? Not safe to keep them in a hotel room which meant I had to carry them everywhere, at least I had a flashlight as a weapon

Deforestation station - without electricity in 90% of the country they are devastating their forests for firewood

Found this gem in a tiny town 7 hours from the capital city, making America proud or at least 12 of the states

United we do Stand - I took a rare moment away from work to celebrate freedom and the good ol USofA with some fellow American expats in red, white, and blue. While we didn't have fireworks or hot dogs or berries, we had mac n cheese, deviled eggs, fresh caught fish cooked by Lebanese, and plenty of American pride

When I was talking to my Dad before I left (who loves Hiltons), he jokingly asked if there were any Hilton's in Sierra Leone, to which I scoffed and informed him there was barely running water. Well low and behold upon my arrival they are building a Hilton in Sierra Leone - book your visit now

A small snapshot of ex-pat life in SL. In this photo, 2 Spanish, 2 Italian, 1 French, 1 Lebanese - all trying to get the last Pringle or Italian sausage/prosciutto or French brie brought by the last ex-pat who went home the most recently. And of course discussing really intellectual stuff (like bug spray) in four languages intermixed

Yes this photo looks boring, but I got chased by a local Sierra Leonean for not asking permission to take it. Now you know why I don't have more pictures of me with actual Africans, since even goats require permission

One thing Salone is never short of, even in the rainy season, is beautiful sunsets

Commute home from work, a little beach time soccer match

This trip was hard, much harder than the last one, but one thing that renewed me everyday, even when I was ready to just call it all in and get on the next flight, was the people. For the level of poverty and hardship that they have been through and continue to face, their continual happy spirit and friendliness are really invigorating

Who could refuse a pineapple from these vendors?

I'm baaaack to the world of easier living. I've spent the last three days laying under Roman fountains drinking tap water, stuffing myself with unwashed fruits and veggies from the public markets, finally getting to exercise, and going shopping for some clothes that don't smell like mildew or have mango flies embedded in them - so as you might imagine this trip to SL was a bit tougher than the last, and I barely had time for the dance party I longed to go back for.

Life and death:  As I mentioned from my last post, I felt more alive in Sierra Leone because its back to basics. At the same time I realized this time that part of the reason for feeling more alive is because death is so much closer. On any given day each choice you make from the water you brush your teeth with and accidentally swallow some, or the food you eat, or the bugs that bite you, or your mode of transport could all easily mean the end and mostly because if something happens there's no option but getting on the first plane out (you only go to a hospital in Sierra Leone if you actually WANT to die). So now that I've freaked you out, remember I'm back, but while I was there I'll share a few notes of how death is all around - the day I arrived Lidia was stung by a champion fly on her FACE which basically exploded acid when she swatted it away leaving a nasty burn and infection on her FACE; there was a cholera outbreak where by last count 40 people had died including World Food Program staff (FAO's competitor); 1 in 3 people I met had malaria or had just gotten over it; one of my expat friends there was walking on the same beach I walked home from work on and was attacked by a man who BIT her on the back and she can't even test for rabies till she flies out of SL; the two government officials who came with us on our community visits - one had malaria while with us and the other's brother died while with us. This may all have something to do with why Sierra Leoneans are so happy - when you have to face this much death/danger everyday, life is all the more precious

Eating: Speaking of death and danger.....I knew from my trip before that for some reason I'm automatically starving in Sierra Leone, which isn't even fair to say/write, and I immediately feel guilty upon my first hunger pangs, because people are actually starving. That said, within 48 hours, my privileged life in Italy with all the snacks I want and cravings I have that can be met at any instant are very apparent in their absence. I would say the biggest change is having very little control over what you eat, you just have to eat what is available and when it is available. Not to over exaggerate my hunger pangs, there are places to have decent dinners and grocery shop (if you're willing to pay 10 times the EU/US price, example one liter of milk costs at least 3 euro), but they are few, so in 5 weeks you end up eating the same thing everyday even if you're eating at expensive ex-pat restaurants. Our trip to the communities/rural Salone was truly a test with Gov't officials who were fine with spending 4 days on the road eating nothing but bread with condensed milk dribbled on it. We even searched for bananas (too bad it isn't banana season) but only found pineapples which aren't so easy to eat in the car. I spent 4 straight days eating only bread and condensed milk  with a stomach virus, seeking out a rural prison as the best option around for the bathroom (just imagine), and have never understood hunger/stomach disease as I do today. My appreciation for how spoiled I have become in Italy and how quickly I am hungry without the luxury of snacking has truly shocked me. I knocked off 3 kilos even with scrounging for whatever food I could and eating anything available at every opportunity in SL. A true appreciation for food security has finally been embedded - plenti thenki Salone. I will never take eating well for granted again (or for that matter, access to a decent bathroom).

Social LIFE: Now that we have all that death and danger stuff out of the way, I spoke last time about the active social life in Salone and it was still in full swing for my return this time. However, work was so crazy that I wasn't able to partake as much as I would have liked. I did have the EuroCup to entertain me for the first few weeks, complete with rooting for Italia in blue till the bitter end at house parties, bars, and even at a converted theatre in the stix of Salone. I also managed to track down some Americans to celebrate the 4th with and as we do (or used to) in America we welcomed all others and had our meal cooked by Lebanese, and celebrated with Italians, Norwegians, Irish, and Spaniards in attendance. We even let a British guy come just so we could heckle him. While our party was a small affair, the Canadians threw a rager 3 days before, complete with tent size flags, maple leaf shirts, gravy fries, and fireworks. Seriously Canada showing us up? There was also the plan to go back to my favorite bar in Bo (called After Work) for a dance party with the government officials while visiting communities, but I was so exhausted that I couldn't muster it. The Gov't guys haven't let us live it down and have demanded that we must come back to have at least one dance party together - I love these people. And this time, I finally managed to download/buy some SL top hits (mostly from Nigeria). I would definitely recommend 'Chop my Money' by P Squared featuring Akon.

Krio:  In SL they speak Krio, which is basically a pidgin English influenced heavily by Igbo and Yoruba from Nigeria. I swore that this time I would at least learn basic Krio, and was very much forced into it by our community visits which were translated between local tribal dialects (Timney and Mendi). You as well would find Krio easy to pick up thanks to urban pop/rap including the word for who (udat). But my all time favorite phrase is "Kusheh, Owz da bodi" or "Ow u slep" literally meaning Hello, how are you? How'd you sleep? every morning. Then you answer "da bodi good" or "da bodi gud" or "Plenti fine" or " Tel gowd thenki" (thank God). Whenever you even speak a little Krio, SLs die of giggles, even if you say you're learning "smoll smoll", little by little. Plenti thenki Salone for accepting my smoll smoll Krio!!!!

The Lebanese:  I know that I have talked in the past about how impressed I have been with Germans, but seriously Lebanese people blow everyone out of the water. Salone is basically owned by Lebanese, or at least any functioning, nice establishment is sure to have a Lebanese behind it. And it's not just Salone, they are behind most functioning businesses throughout Africa. I've always liked Lebanese for their hummus and cheese, and you know they're pretty hot, but I never realized how industrious they are. The risk and difficulty of running a functioning business in Sierra Leone is huge - and they're dominating at it. I tried to get to the bottom of what is driving this personality type/diaspora/risk appetite with my Lebanese friends in SL, but I haven't come to an answer that satisfies me yet. Some theories are that 1) they were the original explorers/businessmen trading everything; 2) there is a lot of personal wealth so they are able to take more risk since they don't have shareholders; 3) they're hot.

Independence:  I mentioned last time that one of the most challenging parts for me in Sierra Leone is losing my independence since getting around/doing normal stuff is more difficult/takes navigating.  I was determined this time to learn the lessons of my last visit and I was surprised upon my arrival at how easy/natural it felt to be back (5 weeks later I didn't quite feel the same, but anyway).  I no longer feared okadas and even relished in the bargaining/wind in my hair/sans helmet experience. But this time it was also the rainy season so okadas are no longer a real option most of the time. So I adopted a taxi driver. On my last trip a senior UN staff member told me how he'd been training a taxi driver as his personal taxi for over a year with only mild success in terms of reliability, so I was not sure I could accomplish it in a month. But I happened upon Edward who I quickly named King Edward and he called me Queen Elizabeth and for the rest of my time there he exhibited all the behaviour you want in your taxi driver - 1) he never abused having my number by calling me (this is a real problem in SL where anyone who gets your number just calls you incessantly to 'talk' even at 5am); 2) even if his car was broken down he always found someone to come get me from where I was and he accompanied them; 3) he was never more than 15 min late; 4) did I mention he called me Queen Elizabeth? But even with my success of adopting a taxi driver, not having a car or a home in SL and living in a hotel for a month gets real old. I knew it was time to go when the 2 days before I left the staff started calling my hotel room at 5am just to alert me that they arrived on their shift and say hi, and then I got a love letter from a 20 year old waiter, and then a maid asked me for money for her father's funeral - AND THEN it was time to go. But all in all, for living in a hotel in Sierra Leone I would highly recommend the Barmoi - they became like my family, even if I never want to see eggs for breakfast again in the next six months.

The thing is there's no way I can detail 5 weeks in SL here in this blog, but I hope you got a flavour. Many have asked if I want to go back or if I've finally met my goal of working in Africa. The tough part is I'm so glad to be back in easier living because seriously parts were brutal and I could see the daily impact on my health, on the other hand the people are amazing and so refreshing and I have so much to learn from them. So yes, I would go back, and again strive for more independence - ability to cook my own food, get around by myself, and find a way to exercise - but again this is probably also a little testament to how much of a control freak/loner I've become, more than a testament to Sierra Leone. 

When in Rome - make the most of it

Enjoying Rome's highlights via Segway - yeah a Segway

I'm in a bridesmaid dress on a Segway = making the most of my six weeks in Rome

Exploring Rome via pedicab, complete with ex-con driver

Revisiting the Trevi Fountain, still so much happiness from one fountain

A 30km bike ride through Rome with police escort sponsored by the Dutch government, complete with people cheering cause they thought it was a race

Hiking 16km in Abruzzo, just one hour from Rome but a world away

Greetings from rainy Salone! I meant to post this right before I left Rome, but ran out of time. I finally tracked down a decent internet connection here so I figured I'd update you on what I was doing before I came to Africa.....more on my adventures here soon

So just a quick update on the rest of my life (other than Momo's visit) in Rome over the last six weeks, since I know I've been remiss in blogging. Since returning from SL, I've been just appreciating Rome/Italy especially in spring time and the start of summer.

During my six weeks in Rome between SL stints I managed to go hiking in Abruzzo twice, share marshmallows with Italians who had never been camping before, take a police escorted bike ride through the Rome highlights thanks to the Dutch government, ride a Segway for the first time while shaking my head at myself for doing it, have a weeknight picnic on the beach with my favorite sausages and cheeses, try to hunt down public pools in Rome (fail), and eat countless gelatos. All in all I would say I was trying to pack enough of Italian summer into my six weeks to tide me over while in rainy Africa for over a month. And with 10 days left in Salone - I think my tiding over has run out, I'm craving sun, and gelato, and even Italians.......