Lots of Xengel

So, a week or two ago was my region mate Mike's birthday.

Mike is one of those unique folks who has a birthday only every 4 years, so weren't sure which day to celebrate his 26 years...so we decided to celebrate it both February 27 and March 1.

A pretty darn good deal if you ask me.

At any rate, Mike wanted a stack of delicious xengel...which I happy obliged. I love to roll, crimp, boil, and fry 100 pieces of deliciousness.

Still, it was a good thing I had help.

PS I revised my original xengel [link] recipe post. Check it out!

Keeping My English Up

It's inevitable, the misuse of English words; the failing to recall a simple turn of phrase. Yesterday, I told my site mate, "Don't worry. Meat stays." He, of course, looked at me weird. The word, saxlamaq, in Azerbaijani, means to stay and to keep. Oh, whoa as me.

So what do PCVs do to keep from falling too far down the linguistic rabbit hole? We challenge each other to Scrabble tournaments, several PCVs are studying the GREs and have vocab lists covering their walls. Personally, I try to do a crossword everyday (I got an awesome crossword-a-day calendar recently) and I thank my lucky stars, some kind family members sent me, Take Two.

Take Two is an awesome create-a-crossword-faster-than-your-opponent game. Although, I am not as good as say, Amy, the undisputed Scrabble champ in our region, I do like to throw down a puzzle or two. A few monthly games of this and hopefully, I won't be saying, "Hey, I plan to keep in Alaska for awhile" when I return home.

When you don't want to be a PCV...

The days I haven't wanted to be a PCV are few and far between, but they are there.

They are the days when miscommunications and unexplained rules stop something great from happening.

The days when after weeks of careful planning, everything comes crashing down around you.The days when something happens at home and you can't be there to hug your friends or be hugged by them.

Being a PCV is hard. Sometimes, I think my friends and family know more about me now then they did when I was at home. I blog, I write emails, I complain on the phone. I talk about me 24/7. Now, I am no where near as humble as I should be, but even I have to admit, that's a lot of me.

I know so little of what is going on at home. It's hard to think about that. It's hard to to think about it because it hurts to know what I am missing. The first kisses of new couples. The helping to paint a spare bedroom wall. The 2nd coffees and political debates.

I missing being a shoulder to cry on and crying on the shoulder of friends. After all is said and done, being a PCV is 2 years of my life. Being Löki has been, and will be, forever.

There are days when I don't want to be a PCV. Today, yesterday, and last week have been some of them.