I walked four hours yesterday through some of the prettiest parts of the world. There were parts I had passed in bus before and never really had the chance to just stop and stare at. There were flowers by the side of the road I had never had the time to smell or pick. I climbed a hilltop on a great divide from which the views abound. The tallest peak in the Municipality, Cayansimil, played peak-a-boo from behind passing mists. The misnomer El Volcán stood proud and tall on the other side of what seemed to be the infintesimally small town of San Sebastian de Yalí.

After a beautiful day of adventures, I was afronted by further frustrations. The Peace Corps requires work reports every so often to make sure we are actually volunteering our time and efforts. The new design has been unserviceable to say the least. I have now written the report twice and on my third attempt this morning, could not even open the file. This, after making the best out of what would otherwise have been an idle weekend. I went to a community to work on a promised and highly anticipated business plan with a local entrepreneur. Needless to say, the business plan hadn´t been touched. We pushed through and developed some of his ideas anyway. The weekend did prove productive, but enlessly frustrating.

Compared to the world standard, North Americans are active, timely, and easily annoyed. We are perplexed when others don´t fit into our norms of acheivement, aptitude and motivation. When things don´t work, I make them work. There´s often a large amount of inner turmoil and frustration, but things happen. I am critical, demanding, always certain, goal oriented and motivating. I am an Alien in Nicaragua. I am American.

Unlike last year, this year has already been a whirlwind of events, problems, possible solutions, work, and fun. This last week alone was indicative of the schedule and the year I have chosen for myself.

I restarted classes Sunday night with my youth group and it went well. Monday I started classes, had the evening off, but was out by eight o´clock with my jeans still on. I made one of my teacher´s cry in the institute and we subsequently had a huge blow out that started in front of students, followed into the office and finished with two intermediaries and some more tears. I had classes in the day and started my English classes to two coffee cooperatives at night--all of which went surprisingly well considering my morning.

I gave class Wednesday morning before packing my bags and heading out to Jinotega. I spent the rest of the week helping translate, eating way too much and drinking until way too late with another trade mission with delegates primarily from England, but also comprised of Australians Danish, Americans and Japanese. During the week, I also found out my Mother might never be able to see my ailing Grandmother again because of family disagreements. I had gotten over the fact that I may never see my grandparents again, but I was dead set on having my parents tell them to their faces I loved them as often as they could. On top of that, the only girl I´ve met in nine months who I thought I might ever click with decided we didn´t click so well afterall. Someone I work with pulled a rather Mrs. Havershamesque move, both encouraging me and warning me of the impending doom. I´m now exhausted and just want to go home. Being an absolute vagrant, though, I´m not sure where that is. Right now I´m going back to the bed I´ve been sleeping in for the last few months. I will arrive fifteen minutes before I have to give class because I missed my noon bus to Yalí having not prepared for it beforehand.

Sitting in the institute where I give business classes, I realized I was getting in the way more than helping. We are putting together the schedules for the year and I may have worn out my welcome. I don´t want classes on Mondays or Fridays because the majority of a seemingly endless cascade of holidays, reunions, and meetings fall on those days. I´ve made my point and now type away my morning waiting for the debates to finish and the white papal smoke to arise in decision.

My schedule last year was clear and I spent the majority of my day (and night) reading or looking for other projects. This year, I will have to micromanage my schedule to make sure that I give due time and effort to each pending project. My main projects remain giving business classes and helping certify farms to sell to Starbucks. I´ve finished two projects during the vacations: painting the world map in the primary school and translating for the Japanese/Korean Trade Mission. I also have a host of other side projects I´ve recently started or will be starting soon. Amongst them are supporting Yalí´s struggling tourism industry and giving English classes to professional coffee cuppers in Yalí and Jinotega.

I´m excited to get the year started as all of it depends on the schedules of my primary projects. My recreational activities have naturally been spurned in the process. I have found myself halfway or almost done with four different books, all of which I started thinking I had all the time in the world. My budding interest in my Catholic heritage—no doubt to my parents´ content—has had to take a backseat. I even stopped running for several weeks because my schedule and my traveling simply didn´t allow it. The hyper-tradeoff is just being realized, and I´m sure its full impacts are not quite felt. This week I´ve been running between propaganda drenched trainings at the institute, meetings all over town, and touch-up-work on our world map—all of which needs to be done before classes start next Tuesday. In the meantime, I´ve found solace in reading Harry Potter to my eight-year-old host brother every night after dinner. So perhaps I still have more time than most.