would you do the peace corps?

Blogger's got this clever new survey bit you can put on your blog, and I'm forever full of questions, so I'm putting it to good use. To kick it off, a simple querry: would you do the peace corps?

And let me know if the options are insufficient and I should add another answer to the list. I am curious if our delicious blog makes you want a slice of this third world unpaid labor pie. Or if you just follow our story out of pity/admiration/missing us/nothing better to do at your desk job.

So take two seconds to answer the survey on the right, and another two to check out what others have said.

how do you do your do?

Perhaps half a year away from mirrors is taking its toll on our dress code, but I have to say that our hair is really looking pretty good these days. Tom's is long and wild and pretty much awesome. I cut mine off a few weeks ago in an effort to reduce my perpetual sweating face problem, and I think it turned out quite nice.


Tom, in super rad llama sweater, looking all rugged and smashing




Me with my new hair getup, choppin mangos (there are about forty million mangos in our neighborhood, and you can pick them for free everywhere you go. I tell our neighbors here that they cost a dollar each in the states, and they just laaauuugh.)







In other news, we found some mushrooms growing on our bedroom door the other day. Kind of reminds me of college, where we had mushrooms growing out of the bathroom floor. It's not that we're slobs or live in filth (well, we were in college, but this is different) it's just very humid and dusty/muddy, which is a nice climate for mushrooms. We didn't eat them, for the record.

And this here is a really enormous bug that was in our bathroom. Yikes.

what a way to make a living

Our work these days is glamorous as a girl could dream. Trapeze artist for the Ringling Bros., professional metal sculptor, dolphin trainer at Sea World, lifeguard at the beach: these were a few of my dreams of the past. But now, watch out world, here I come, I’m going door to door asking people if I can take a look at their outhouses. YES! I’ve finally made it to the top.

Turns out most outhouses are really gross. Go figure. Oddly enough, no one asked us to do this. We just thought it would be a good idea to get a sense of how people are maintaining their bathrooms before we build more. It’s possible I’m getting less smart with age. Certainly less picky.

If any of you struggle with pickiness, fussiness, impatience, or any other form of high standards that leave you unsatisfied, I recommend a few years in the third world. It’ll cure you quick.

our six month anniversary

Well my how time flies

It was six months ago today, The 9th of May, that we met Bolivia. We flew in from Miami and landed at dawn in La Paz, the highest capital city in the world. She flashed her mountains. My stomach dropped and my throat got tight. It was love at first site.

Or maybe it was altitude sickness.

Regardless, here we are, half a year later, loving and living Bolivia. She is the girlfriend you want to take home, take pictures of, understand better, introduce to your friends, travel with, sleep with, eat with, laugh with. Spend the rest of your life with? Umm, probably not. But it’s good fun for now.

I keep saying it, but it feels like we’re finally settling in, getting used to Okinawa, making friends and making our home here. Maybe what this means is that life here feels just a little less weird than it used to. And in three months I’ll say again, “Now it really feels like we’re getting used to this,” and so on and so forth until it’s time to go back to America, which will feel nothing like home anymore. So it goes.

The road to Oki

carving the jack-o-melon

Pumpkins are out this year, folks. Down here in Bo Bo it's watermelon season, so at our halloween extravaganza this year we carved up some beautiful pink and green melons, threw a bottle of vodka on their innards, and enjoyed the night. Dressed up like freaks of course.

I was a happy camper. Tom a kung fu fighter. Our friend Elizabeth created a ball toss game out of a coat rack, some cut up 2 liter bottles, and a tennis ball. She's a carnie at heart. A clever one, too. The vodka took its toll, so I don't think anyone ever scored enough points to be declared winner, but it was a good game. A good night, a fond and fuzzy embrace of traditions from our homeland.

the jack-o-melons

Their chief drawback is that they rot in about twelve hours. Their chief asset is that pumpkin carving is not a Bolivian tradition, so the kids here don't know to smash the rotten remains on your front porch.