My birthday is in two days.

Lyle: We learned a word to describe you, today.
Theresa: Really? What?
Lyle: I forget, but I know it means “grouchy” in English.

For all I bitch, I sure am going to miss everybody when we all split for out different posts. For those of you not lucky enough to be here in Benin with me, I’ve been complaining about the enforced closeness of Stage, but damn, it’s not going to be nearly as much fun when there’s nobody around to laugh at my dumb jokes.

The past few weeks have been relatively busy. I’m not sure how, but magically, there are only three weeks left in Stage. Two months in this country and I still don’t have a damn clue about what I’m supposed to be doing. Haha. I’m kidding, for the most part. I think the hardest part about adjusting to life here is that it’s been a hell of a long time since I only had 40 hours of work to get done each week. What the hell am I supposed to do with all of this spare time?!?! Mmmmm.

Mom and Dad called last night to wish me a happy birthday, and asked if I was taking pictures. Yes. Lots. And I have tons of good stories that I’m waiting to share until they have visual accompaniment. For example, the insane-but-awesome bike ride through the bush during tech week is just that much MORE awesome with pictures of Lyle in a tree, random creeks, and Jason looking puzzled as we get more and more lost. Along the same lines, our trip to the beach is just that much more exciting when you see shirtless pale-assed Brook, cigarette in hand, with a crate of empty bottles on one shoulder, and grumpy-ass me behind him, clearly less than happy about being roped into returning them. And names without faces are just as worthless. Starting to get the idea?

In other news, tomorrow is the start of our ultimate frisbee tournament. There are only four teams (one for each sector: SED/ ICT, health, TEFL, environment). I’m excited. I won’t be playing, mostly because, over the last several weeks, we’ve discovered that I am absolutely worthless on the field. We business stagaires are competitive, so no dead weight on the field. ;) How competitive? Well, one guy already had to go down to Cotonou as a result of a concussion he got from a volunteer during a game (I joke, it was due to klutziness, not hard play). I’ll let y’all know how it goes.

Oh yeah, and I’m putting up three or four entries today. I’ve been borrowing laptops from friends, and just haven’t gotten around to posting. I’m lazy, and it’s a hell of a hassle to get to an internet café to get this stuff up and online. Speaking of hassle, another round of snail mail is going out this week. Write back, you fuckers.

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