Transitions are always strange times. I feel like Peace Corps life can often be as big of a transition as Middle School. I´m losing my sitemate and getting a new one. Sometimes there are two volunteers in a single site and I have been lucky enough to be one of those. But just as my sitemate and I are starting to understand each other and work together really well, her service has ended. She´ll be going back to Portland, Oregon after an extrodinarily successful service as I put together makeshift vacations for Semana Santa. There will be a new volunteer moving into my town within the month. She seems really nice and I´m excited for a change, though still nervous that we won´t get along. It´s not like there are a lot of options if you don´t like your sitemate, though I have become more confident in my ability to deal with all sorts of characters successfully.

This week, I´ve been pretty busy planning my exams for the institute, saying goodbye to my current sitemate, planning Semana Santa, and planning for the rest of my month being packed with Peace Corps training sessions. I´m also realizing that I´ve been here for a little while. Having been in Nicaragua for almost a year and watching my sitemate leave I can´t help but think about what I´ll do when I leave. My time to ¨Plan the Rest of My Life¨ is waning.

None of this has anything to do with the reason for today´s commentary. I just felt my first honest to goodness earthquake in Nicaragua. I have to admit that the sensation was slightly numbed by feeling an earthquake in Chicago at four in the morning just before I left last year--minor geologic miracle. This one was still cool, though. I was sitting down to type in my buddy´s cyber when all the monitors and roofing started to shake. It was cool but when we went outside, we thought we were both crazy because it didn´t look like anyone else had even noticed. Turns out we weren´t crazy. In the last twenty minutes half a dozen people have come in to confirm this small quake. Keep in mind Nicaragua does have an extraordinary reputation for destructive quakes.

Half marathons are not that long. I suppose they are supposed to be completed in less than my 1:56. But at least I know what I have to do for next year.

Little Mark has been born, healthy and well. Congratualtions, Alec! Being so far from the excitement back home, I feel slightly removed from it, but I´m happy that I´ve been kept abreast of the situation. Lee-Ann´s students also found an old book that Susy Ramos gave me years and years back. I write to them more or less every week, and they sounded so excited to be using the same book I used.

As my half-marathon quickly approaches, I have lost the ability to avoid stress with the occassional piece of chocolate or even more rare... cigarette. Better for it. I found myself running to the next department, Estelí the other day. I was told when I got there that I had already run 15 km. Running the way back, the my only thought was pride that I was running more than a half-marathon (21 km) in one day. Once I got back, I was told that I had only run 16 km in total! Disappointed, but no where near defeated, I´m still cross training daily.

Saturday, I found myself hiking uphill with my sitemate and a group of girls I teach. In a defiant act of masculinity, or perhaps testosterone based stupidity, once lost I would not allow the group to rethink directions. Instead I took out my trusty machete and slashed our way through the cloud forest, uphill--ughhh!--until we reached the summit of one of the tallest peaks in Yalí, El Volcán. After being called cochón (faggot) repeadetly the week before, it was an even more necessary and invigorating Indiana Jones experience. The entire top of the mountain was covered in thick vines and pillowy, green, lichenous trees. It looked more like a movie set than reality. We found an easier way down once at the summit, but low and behold, I came to the rescue again! Forced into service, I killed a snake for the screaming masses of helpless damsals.

The next morning I found myself handwashing (per usual) all of my days garments, just to give myself a little gender balance. I then ran up to the base of El Volcán and tacked on my usual hour of Yoga. I´m not sure if I´m going to be in shape for this mini-marathon, but I´m sure trying.