Well, there's definitely something to talk about...

Here we go again. I told you in my last edition that I would do my best to give you something worth reading, and while there is plenty to write about, I'm not sure you really wanted to wait two weeks to hear it.

Let's start at the beginning. Two weeks ago around Tuesday afternoon, we began to hear the rumblings about a hurricane. Not a real hurricane, mind you, a pretend hurricane. Hurricane Zeus was headed across the Atlantic and looked set to hit Belize square in the face. As you can imagine, this caused widespread panic and confusion. In the following days, we were put on alert, then standfast (where we are restricted to our assigned village/town), and finally asked to consolidate to Belmopan. Over 100 volunteers piled into the luxurious, black-mold-infested Garden City hotel for one night in order to ensure that the warning systems in place for such events are adequate. For Kathryn and I, that meant packing up all the necessities for being consolidated, lugging them across town to the Peace Corps office, and finally being told that in a consolidation, we would be sleeping in our place anyway, so take everything back home with you. As nice as it was to see everyone, it was quite the headache. We had to arrive bright and early the next morning to process the drill and point out successes/areas for improvement (causing me to miss the thrilling game in which Slovakia beat Italy and tossed the reigning champs out of the World Cup).

Two days later, the actual Tropical Storm Alex made his way across Belize, sending everyone into a panic and raining (literally) all over our weekend plans to attend Lobsterfest in the seaside town of Placencia. We made it all the way down to Dangriga, where we spent the night, before receiving a call the following morning that we were to return to beautiful Belmopan. So instead of relaxing on the beach, we spent the afternoon watching football (the thrilling game between the US and Ghana), playing games, and hanging out with John, Sylvia, and fellow PCVs Andy and Elsa. Not a bad way to spend the day when the sky poured more water than a shower-head.

The week that followed was the last before our respective summer camps began. I mostly ran around like a chicken with my head cut off, putting the finishing touches on my lesson plans and watching all the World Cup games I possibly could. Squeeze in hosting three different PCVs in the space of four nights, a lively discussion during our weekly Bible study group, and helping dog-sit for a staff member who is in the states, the week flew by.

Which brings me to this week. Kathryn's camp has come and gone, with her having the privilege of teaching and listening to fifty 4- to 12-year-olds the recorder. They had their awards ceremony yesterday, and by all accounts, things went swimmingly. In spite of locked classrooms she was promised she could use, lacking liquids for the campers on the first day, and absent teachers on at least one occasion, the queen of organizing and improvising has once again shown us exactly why she deserves her title.

My camp has been going fairly well also. There are twenty-four students who attend PEACE Camp (Preventing, Engaging, and Addressing Conflict Effectively), and I'm constantly impressed by how well they receive what I have to teach them. I mean, they're kids and have to be reeled in on occasion, but by and large they have been great. It also helps that I have two other PCVs and four volunteers from an organization called HELP! International sharing the workload. They've made my job easy. I have another week of camp left, so things could easily turn, but I'm pretty confident we'll coast through for a really successful experience for everyone.

I must tell you, though, that a few days ago I received an e-mail that we have packages to pick up. So, yesterday, after camp, I biked out to the Peace Corps office to pick up the slips for the mail. I have to go 2 miles out of my way to the office to get a couple papers to get my mail. But then they need to be signed by the country director. Except, when I arrived, they had not been signed. So I waited for an hour and a half, piddling on the internet and reading, for the papers to get signed. I eventually decided I couldn't wait anymore and got ready to leave. On the way out the receptionist said, "Oh wait! Sometimes you can take the papers without the signature and they'll give you your mail anyway." So I took the papers, biked the mile back to the post office, and received our packages. And I mean they are real packages. Amanda, Dad, and Kim, thank you so much. The things you sent were promptly put to use. I did have to take the boxes to John's office so he could drive them home, though. Boxes and bikes don't always mix. But it's definitely worth it. Now if only it were easier for me to get the mail slips from Peace Corps we'd be in business.

And finally, because I'm me, have you seen the Spanish in the World Cup? After the heartbreak of watching them lose their first match to the Swiss of all people, they have turned their performances around and shown just why they were co-favorites with Brazil at the beginning of the tournament. If you haven't been watching, tune in this Sunday. The game will certainly be a historical event, with both teams competing for their first ever World Cup victory and the title of first European team to win a World Cup outside of their home continent.

After all of that, I feel like there have been a hundred other things I want to write about but have simply slipped my mind. I'm tempted to save this post and come back to it after taking some time to mull it over, but since you've all been so patient (or impatient, in the case of my mother and father who have made it a point to mention how long it has been since our last published post) I'll go ahead and wrap things up.

Peace,

Cisco