Chronicles of the Wayward Moot

WELCOME TO THE MOOT, oh world-wanderers and word-whisperers. After two years of Peace Corps. After 2,200 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. What. Comes. Next?


Short entry today. Ran out of time writing emails to you all! I should just copy my responses in those emails and put them here so everyone can read them...

A few things about living poor:
Nothing is clean. Everything is dirty. You can never clean it all because to do that you´d have to clean the entire world....the entire world seems to get into your house as it pleases. My family here doesn´t have one fork in the house. If we´re eating super overcooked salted beef, we use spoons. Same with the super chickens they get from the campo or fields. There are only two glasses in the house, and a few little cups for milk. Two glasses between the six of us. I think I´ll keep drinking from my nalgene. In the US they keep guinea pigs as pets and use paint thinner to thin paint. Here we eat guinea pigs to celebrate the finishing of a little house down the street and we drink what seesm to be paint thinner. They call it tequila but I have my doubts. No insulation in the house. It´s cold cold cold at night at 10,00 feet! There is a shower but the water is only ice cold. There is a toilet but it doesn´t work and we have to pour water from a bucket into it for it to flush. All this, and I live with a relatively prosperous family. At least we have food to eat. Gotta run, might miss my bus and have to walk for two hours to get home in the dark. Not good if that happens. Things are so relaxed here it´s a wonder how busy I feel. I´ll do my best to write more next time, and add some pics. Ciao. Cheers. I think I have a piece of campo shicken caught between my teeth on the upper left side. Or maybe it´s the beginning of a toothache. Better floss and figure it out.



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