I am officially in unofficial training for the Peace Corps.

This self-conscripted training consists mainly of eating things that have fallen on the floor, breaking in my pricey walking sandals, and filling out forms. When I fall asleep at night I try to imagine that I have only a straw roof above my head and honestly it at first felt more like being on a raft in the middle of the ocean. But then Rose and I slept out with only the stars to cover us and now I feel more willing to embrace my self as a child of the wild.

Keli: And really how many people get to live in a hut?... well I guess all those Africans do...
Lex: Yeah, nobody. Except all those millions of Africans.

Anyway, I am also picking up all sorts of other lessons for my bag of tricks. For Instance: in Vermont I learned that when traveling by bike with groceries - it is NOT wise to hold the bag near the front wheel less you want your flour and sugar spilt all over the parking lot. By way of Rose I know that many odd things taste good in pie form, so perhaps do not immediately rule out mince mice meat as a favorite. I encountered a snake on my run and effectively charmed it into submission by not bothering it. I have discovered how my nimble little fingers can shimmy up a rock wall if by chance an angry rhino has cornered me against a bluff. I know how to shoot a .22, and am prepared to defend myself in case an empty coffee cup ever threatens me. Supposing of course there is a handy .22 around. And when I get back from Australia I will be able to surf and punch a kangaroo in the face, so THAT will be taken care of. Hopefully I will not know how to punch a great white shark in the face.

Keli: Oh look an African Market! I should go stand in there. You know, to get acquainted.
Ty: Make sure you stand in the Southern part of the store.

Plus all my wonderful friends are supplying me with book lists, or music lists, or items-to-take-to-Africa lists, or oodles of cds, or bike fixing tips, or news that the plague actually has a vaccine and treatment, or contacts in or around or recently back from Zambia, or well wishes and encouragement, which are as good as diamonds.

Several people asked if I am excited and yes I am. I asked for Africa. I have heard/read only good things about the program I will be working with: Learning at Taonga Market, which is overseen by the Ministry of Education. It is learning through interactive radio programs to make education more accessible to remote villagers. There is also a scarcity of trained teachers due to AIDS. My job will not be teaching but helping to coordinate this program in a certain area. I have heard from a Peace Corps volunteer recently returned from Zambia that this is a wonderful place to be a volunteer. This assignment fits my qualifications and I will be able to work with children without teaching them directly. Which is really what I wanted. And if I love what I am doing I think it will not matter so much that I have other neglected comforts.

I will probably love living in a hut. Living in a hut will be good for me. And not being a little baby might not be so bad for me either.

I suppose what apprehensions I have about the living conditions come mainly from a deep-seated question about my own resolve - because I often choose not to run up hills. But I give myself too little credit for being adaptable. I am more likely to laugh than cry. And maybe Zambia will teach me to love the hill, as Rose says, even when I hate the hill.

Or PERHAPS Zambia will tell me that walking up the hill still gets you up the hill. So shut up.

Who knows. Wonders will unfold. There is no way to prepare.