8 months

It's hard to believe that in just a few short days, on October 15th, I will have been in Guyana for 8 whole months. I know I probably said the same thing at 5 months and 6 months and 7 months, but for some reason this one feels different. Weirder. More surreal. Maybe its the fact that it's October and officially fall back home, which has always been my favorite time of year. This time last year, I was just getting my invitation from Peace Corps to come to Guyana, it seems so weird to think that was a full year ago. Time has taken on such a different meaning here, I swear it moves faster than it ever did back home. In 2 and a half months, just 71 days, I will be back in the States for Christmas. When I get back to Guyana on Jan 10th, the new group of volunteers, Guy 24, will arrive just 2 and a half weeks later. And then, 2 weeks after that it will be my group's one year anniversary in Guyana. And then, just 3 months after that is our Mid Service conference, which is the last Peace Corps training before our close of service, just 7 months after that ( I went through the calendar like 3 times to check all of that, it sounds so short I couldn't believe it).

It's hard not to think about all that stuff, the numbers and dates and schedules and not be a little bit freaked out. Before I left, 27 months sounded like such a long time. Now that I'm 8 months in, it seems like nothing. Just a tiny blip on the radar. How can I possibly get anything done in just 27 months? How can I make a difference, make any sort of meaningful impact on my community when it feels like I'll barely even be here? Those questions run through my mind pretty much everyday, you have those small moments of panic when another day ends and you cross it off on the calender and you have that spilt second of, oh crap where did that day just go? I think part of it is because most of us, if not all of us, by now have fallen into a daily routine that is so comfortable and familiar that I often forget that I'm even in the Peace Corps. I wake up, work out, go to work, come home and then read or watch a movie on my computer before bed. That is not unlike a typical day back home in the States. It makes everything flow together and move faster. I don't think its a good thing or a bad thing, it's just the way it is. I love the fact that I feel so comfortable in my community, so integrated and at home, that I forget that I'm not actually from here. Of course, no matter how comfortable you get, there are always those moments that make you feel like you've just stepped off the place and remind you that you're definitely not in Kansas anymore. I had one such moment on the minibus yesterday.

I was on my way from my house to another volunteers house, which is about a 25 minute minibus ride up the coast. I was standing out on the road at about 5pm, which is not a great time to get a minibus on the weekend cause there are not a lot of buses running. Finally, one stopped to let me on. As the conductor opened the door I noticed that the bus was pretty much full and I would really have to squeeze in to fit. Minibuses have 4 rows of seats, which sit 3 adults comfortably, maybe 4 if you're all relatively small. Now, not only were all the rows full but the front row, where the conductor wanted me to sit already had 4 passengers, plus the conductor. I didn't really have a choice though, as the conductor grabbed my arm and pulled me in while saying, "Come on white baby, come on". (Conductors are the guys on the minibuses who tell the driver when to stop and pick people up, they collect the money and tell the driver when to stop and let someone off. They are known to call every woman either baby or beautiful or mamie, but the white part is usually added just for me lol). So I get on the bus and the only place left for the conductor to sit is, surprise surprise, right on my lap. I'm pretty sure he knew that when he stopped to pick me up but it's too late now as the driver has already started flooring it up the road. He turns and, with his face literally inches from mine, tells me that he likes me and asks my name. I tell him my name is not important cause we probably won't be friends. He laughs and asks why not. I tell him that, even though I'm giving him the wrong 1st impression by letting him sit on my lap,  I have plenty friends and my boyfriend probably wouldn't want me to make anymore (In these situations, whether you have a boyfriend or not, it's a pretty standard reply to say that you do. It tends to discourage them most of the time lol). He seemed to accept this answer and stopped talking but  proceeded to stare at me for the remainder of the ride and make several attempts ot hold my hand.

Now, this situation would never, ever happen back home. How many times have you gotten on a bus and had to sit on the drivers lap? Or had someone sit on yours cause the bus was too full? Moments like that, which are not that uncommon, not only serve as hilarious stories afterwards but are definite reminders of the fact that I'm pretty easy to pick out of a crowd here. The crazy strawberry blond color that my hair has now become doesn't exactly blend well and, while this is probably the tannest I've ever been, I'm still really really white. I may have to be reminded when I'm home that its not ok to sit on someones lap if the bus is full :)

While things like that serve as reminders that I stand out, most of time I forget that I'm not Guyanese, especially when I'm out with a group of Guyanese friends. Saturday night  I went to a floodlight cricket game with 2 other volunteers and a few Guyanese friends. Floodlight cricket is an event that happens about once a month when the different cricket teams from villages along the coast get together for a nighttime tournament type game. It usually starts right after dark, around 7 or 8 and can go until 5 in the morning. There is food, usually barbecue and, of course, plenty of locally brewed Banks beer (which is why I go, I'm really not a fan of cricket lol). It's always a lot of fun, the guys we go with usually are playing on one of the teams, so its nice to hang around, drink a few beers, and actually know some of the guys who are playing. When we showed up last night, however, around 7:30, there was one essential part of floodlight cricket missing. The floodlights. It was basically a huge crowd of people standing in a dark field, with only the light from the beer tent to see anything, waiting for the floodlights to show up so the game could start. Of course, as soon as they showed up an hour later, it started to torrential downpour. I'm talking, a legit monsoon style rainstorm. We all crowded under a tree, shielding each other from the rain and trying to finish our beer before it got blown away ( The guys never let us be without at least 2 beers in our hands at all times, I think its a Guyanese custom no one told me about that if you have 2 hands you always need 2 drinks). Finally we gave up, and soaking wet, made our way out to the road to find a bus back home. Even though we didn't get to see any cricket, even after the rain stopped the field was way to wet to play on, it was a fun night with good friends. Those are some of my favorite times in Guyana, hanging out on the weekends with friends, just like I would back home. It makes me feel like I'm actually building a life here, even though I will only be here for a short time. There will definitely be lots of good memories for me to look back on :)