Quake Watch!!!! 2008

I love living in Southern California.

Today, we had our first sizeable earthquake in a while- a healthy 5.4 on the Richter scale.  I happened to be in Target when it happened, which is probably the last time I think I'll be in a large flat building with hundreds of signs suspended from the ceiling during an earthquake.  Because, you know, I obviously have a choice in the matter.

Anyway, while talking myself out of a third trip to the dressing room, I heard a sales associate start making these weird whimpering noises and realized that I felt funny and then felt the unique and well-known situation of being on a moving surface while standing still.  The department signs were swinging, clothes were swaying, the bras in the "intimates" department were swaying in unison on their racks... good times.  You know how in the early stage of a quake you kind of stop, look around and see if it's going to be a mellow roll or it's just getting going and you need to find some sturdy surroundings fast?  I don't know how long it took, but my internal monologue went something like this:

"Wow.  Haven't had one of these in a long time.  Hmm, let's see what it's going to do.  Wow, those suspended signs are moving good.  Oooo, I wonder if they have that shirt in my size? So, how far to the front door if things got really bad?  That was a good jerk, but maybe it's going to stay the same.  Oh, OK.  We're done."

And if you've never been in an earthquake, then just take my word for it- these are the things you should be thinking.  Not, "Holy hell, we're all going to die" while screaming "Aaaaiiiiieeeee!!" and running headlong for the exit.  Which nobody did, thank goodness.  We had some seasoned quake veterans in Target today.

But then the strangest thing happened- after it was done, it was this mad rush to the checkout lines.  I mean, a good 70% of the store bolted for the registers and split.  What the hell?  It's over with- why are you leaving now?  It ended up being good for me, I hung around for about 20 more minutes and didn't have to wait in line.  I need more earthquakes on my shopping trips.

But by far the best part about quakes is the incessant news coverage.  In an area where celebrity gossip makes the nightly news, an earthquake is an Emmy-award winning news opportunity.   During our annual three week rainy season, the first appearance of sprinkles brings on the Storm Watch reporting.  This consists of very pretty news correspondents donning yards of Eddie Bauer all-elements gear, pulling up to the first intersection they can find with a puddle almost to the top of a curb and then doing some cutting edge on-the-scene reporting.  "We're live here at the corner of Main and Central, and let me tell you- the water is rising.  In just 4 hours of sprinkling, the water levels here are almost breaching the curbs- and there's no sign of it stopping.  I've got some folks here that have braved the elements and are willing to answer some questions for us.  So, how do you think the rain is going to affect things around here"  "Well, Mary-Beth, when I saw the weather report last night, I knew that we needed to stay in.  But, we ran out of Diet Tab and Ho-Ho's and so we had to go out.  Basically, I'm just trying to get back before the water starts running over the curbs, because there's no telling what might happen then.  Who knows, maybe we won't even be able to get back."  Just in case you were wondering, everyone in Southern California is gunning for an Oscar.

But back to earthquakes.  Like the random drizzle squall, earthquakes are another opportunity to knock a few IQ points off So Cal residents instead of letting the network soaps have all the fun.  There's been lots of footage of old, old buildings with bricks around them, Cal Tech news conferences (which is just social skills practice for people that research rocks and stare at seismographs 24/7), and my favorite- on the scene footage at a local liquor store that had mostly cleaned up all the product that had fallen into the aisles so there was a lot of footage of clean aisles.  CNN eat your heart out!!!  

They even managed to get the Governator to come out from under the tanning lights/mystic tan sprayer to say a few words.  Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Ah-nold.  I just like to make fun of a man who runs our state and manages to stretch "California" into a 5-syllable word and probably sits around watching Predator reruns when he's not trying to destroy a world-class surf spot with a toll road.  Save Trestles!!  Oh wait, wrong topic.

Really, who watches all that crap?  I mean, give me the magnitude, the location and major damage stats and then let's get back to regular TV programming already.  If I see one more correspondent hunt down the new California resident to get their account of the event (because newbies are more dramatic, the lifetime locals yawn when you ask them- NOT conducive to cutting edge reporting), I'm going to throw up.

Just wait for the night time news.... 

**UPDATE!!!**- absolutely nothing.  But, it definitely wasn't an exciting earthquake when there is no real news to cover and the networks are reduced to reading emailed firsthand accounts on the air and declaring that ground radar at LAX went out for about a minute.  Wow.  One whole minute.  I think the networks thought this was going to be news gold and canceled all TV programming for the next 10 hours and now that there's nothing to report, they're scrambling to fill the space.  

Lastly, one the Cal Tech geologists is rocking a FINE set of suspenders.  Making 'em hot for 2008.

And the garden runs green-blue with caterpillar blood.

I'm serious.  Caterpillars bleed greenish-blueish.  At least mine do.

It was an inevitability.  I have listened to my friends whine and dry heave talking about the huge tomato worms they've been picking off their plants.  Big, thick juicy caterpillars.  Up until recently, I've dodged that bullet.  But now, the caterpillars have arrived.  And are pooping up a storm in my garden.  

I've been finding a lot of strange droppings in my garden lately.  I even thought I had mice now instead of just rats.  And then I found this sucker:

Nasty!!!  It was huge!!!  I use the past tense because I disposed of the creature about 30 seconds after I took this picture.  My method of choice is to split the caterpillar in half using my pruning shears.  Melodramatic?  Probably.  Effective?  Definitely.  I took another picture after this one after I'd cleaved it in two and had left the lower half still clinging to the plant and a huge slime/mucus drip hanging from it, similar to what you see hanging from the chins of teething children.  It was awesome.

So now that it's officially summer vacation for me for the next 4 weeks, I have a new hobby.  Caterpillar hunting.  The Tall One asked me today what I was going to accomplish with my day.  I told him killing caterpillars.  He wasn't stoked.  But I'm quite good at it.  The first day, I killed 3.  Yesterday and today I've killed 4!  And today it was 3 big fat ones and 1 medium one that just needed a couple of more days to get to big-juicy status.   In fact, I might even keep a running total on this site, a body count of sorts.  Remember, I'm not ruthless and cold-hearted, there's lots of other plants in this city for the bugs to eat that aren't in my garden.  I just don't think that creatures without souls or intelligence beyond eat-grow-cocoon-morph-fly-mate-die will grasp the concept of "stay out of my garden if you wish to complete the circle of life."

And that's what I'm here for.  

Zambia Photos!

In case you're wondering where this posting storm has come from, I'm making Rosemary-Scented Flatbread w/ Black Grapes and there's A LOT of time waiting for it to rise. 30min here, an hour there, another 30. Good grief. Plus it's overcast, windy and my tomatoes will never ripen if I keep stalking them every 4 hours.

So, here are some Zambia photos and clips from my trip.

And you want to know something?  This class was so quiet, you could've heard a pin drop.  We're convinced there is no ADHD in Zambia.  Makes you think...

That sums it up, right?  Smile because you're alive.

Our medical team!

First Aid time!  As you can see, not the cleanest conditions and we had to ration out gloves so we gloved one hand and used the other as little as possible.  

This is a clip of the littlest kids (the "Zebra" group) playing sharks and minnows.  To help them remember the words and to make it fun, they taught the kids to make a fin on top of their heads for sharks and have their hands flapping off the sides of their faces like gills for minnows.  And then they shout out "Sharks!!" and "Minnows!", but minnows comes out more like "Meeenoows!!"  It never got old, and I guarantee they're playing it right now. And if that's not cute enough for you, here's another:

And while we're on the theme of sharks, here's the kids whipping themselves into a Zambian Jaws frenzy in the middle of the game.  I present to you the Zambian version of the Jaws theme song:

In case you can't tell, I want to go back.

Pimp my bike!

This is my beloved bike.  I love my bike.  I bought this piece of art with the Tall One back on Cinco de Mayo in 2006.  He got one at the same time, and we then proceeded to wreck wheels of havoc.  We still do, in fact.  We've gone wine tasting on these things, countless dinners, to a wedding in Capitola (from our hotel up there, that is)... lots of places.  We have formed a little harbor cruising bike posse- we're unofficially the BRC: Bike Rage Club.  Our newest OC residents, the Doctors Sohn, are members of the BRC, along with Crack-Attack, our Santa Barbara chapter.  The Sohns used to ride their mountain bikes, but you can't carry a beverage and lean over AND shift gears all at once, so they have purchased beach cruisers just so they can come along.

My little cruiser also shuttles my lazy ass around town- to the hospital for work, around the corner to the neighborhood mart for supplies, across the freeway to the grocery store for midweek fill-ins... it's the best.  And since it's so hot and trendy right now to be green and save the earth, I get lots of kudos from people when I lock up in front of Trader Joe's (mostly from people piling 19 bags of groceries into their H2 Hummer) and from cheeky construction workers sitting in front of Starbucks at 6:30am.  I had one guy say, "Now, hey- that's conserving energy if I ever saw it."  Since I'm working (mostly unsuccessfully) at not being a jerk, I just smiled good naturedly and wiped the fine glisten of moisture from my forehead before walking into the sweltering Starbucks.  But what I really wanted to do was dig deep down and summon my inner knowledge pistol and crack him over the head with the First Law of Thermodynamics.  I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have gotten the whole part that by using less fossil fuel I was using my own cell fuel instead.  But enough about me, back to my bike!!

My poor bike has built up quite the layer of spilled beverages from our many harbor cruises.  Any bump in the road causes a tidal wave of beverage to slosh out of the cup and over the front of my bike.  Tuesday, my bike got a makeover.   I washed it, scrubbed all the margarita off it, scrubbed the handles back to snow white and Armor-All'd the tires.  Looking sharp!!  

My bike also has some flair.  It has a nice white basket, making me the sherpa of the harbor cruise- I carry the bike lock, jackets, my purse, empty cups.  I've also got a cup holder, which is a necessary element to have to be a part of the BRC.  The Tall One and I have taken to giving them to people on their birthdays (if they have a beach cruiser of course), and dragging out-of-town friends to the nearest bike shop and coercing them to buy one before we head off into the wilds of the San Clemente beach trails.  And safety first, I have a headlight and tailight- with stationary and blinking options.  I don't recommend the blinking option purely based on the fear that they will induce seizures in anyone within a 15ft. radius.  But my latest addition is this:

I know!!  How lame is that video clip!!!  I'm awesome.  Anyway, this little gem was a gift from Mrs. Dr. Sohn- they threw in a free bell with her beach cruiser purchase but she'd already bought a bell that matched hers better.  That's right, our bells match our bikes.  So now, when we ride it's like a sonar system to find out where everone is.  One person rings and then people answer- by the ring you can tell where everyone is.  We're dorks.  Plus, it's great as added emphasis to your conversation.  "So this person was sooo lame today at Spot X.  I just wanted to go up to them and tell them ding!ding!"  Classy...

And that's my bike.  I love it.  Probably too much.  But when gas goes over $5/gallon, which it probably will by next year, my bike will be ready.  Ding!Ding!

Tales from the Garden.

It's summer and my garden is working hard to make me proud.  And I'm incredibly proud.  As proud as a human can be of a living entity that has no soul, but that's a deeper discussion that's never going to see the pages of this blog.

I have had another encounter of the rodent kind, which apparently means that somewhere, rodents are mounting another offensive on me and my garden.  They're like insurgents.  Anyway, I came home from Zambia and discovered not only the Tomato Tangle, but something eating away on my green tomatoes.  I fought it mentally for a couple of days, but when I finally found a rat dropping, that was it.  The gloves were back on.  Total side note- is anyone else disturbed by the fact that I'm becoming somewhat knowledgeable about the poop in my garden?  Hmmm, these are definitely caterpillar poopers.  But these are too small to be rat- could they be large caterpillars?  Perhaps I should work more...

Back to the ongoing saga of the Rat Wars... I put out my last two snappy traps with some mozzarella and hoped for the best.  The next morning, I went outside to snip some rosemary and casually checked the trap.  Sweet mother of pearl!!- I had caught me a rat.  It was dead, which increased the creepy factor to at least an 11 on a scale of 10.  But I won!  Yay fun!  Always a wise woman, my mother gently warned me that where there's one, there's two rats.  And those two are probably a male and female, and that means LOTS of rats.  Thanks mom.

So, the Tangle is chugging along unchecked by rodents.  Christy, my vacation caretaker, told me that she was able to take a few tomatoes while I was gone and she said they were remarkably good, so I can't wait to try them.  I got some pretty big ones waiting that need to hurry up and ripen already.  My cherry tomato plants are doing great too.  I pick about 5 off every day, so I'm collecting for a big summer salad this weekend.  Here is a picture of the Tomato Tangle, in all its glory:

Yep, that's all one plant there in the middle.  I'm awesome.

I also came home to a cucumber plant that has gotten its act together!  Today, I picked my first cucumber and tried it.  It's so good.  So fresh.  Plus it was with smug pride that I got to walk past the cucumbers at Trader Joe's today.  And since I'm a dork, here's my first cucumber:

Everything else is plugging along.  I constantly have lettuce and spinach on hand for salads.  My jalapeno and serrano pepper plants are shooting out peppers all over the place.  Spicy.  And in a new development, my guava tree, after about 3 years of taking up space and uncommon neglect from me, is creating fruit this summer.  More as the situation develops.

I think I need to work more.  I'm in my garden too much.  

I hate Tyrone Wells.

Tyrone Wells is an insipid, spoilt little child masquerading as a singer/songwriter.  He uses words like legendary and organic to describe his contrived ballads about true love, war and heartbreak in his biographies, which can be found on any free social networking site.  He's a scrawny, pathetic pastor's kid with a BIC'ed head and bad boy-band soul patch under his bottom lip.  Soooo trendy and hot right now.

His songs are cliche, breathlessly extolling the virtues of some girl floating through the room like a breath of air... oh and he thinks she's beautiful or some crap like that.  That's in addition to the songs he's apparently penned about how much war sucks and that there's another way.  Uncharted lyrical territory, I know.  He's also a signed artist with a recording contract and plays some relatively decent sized shows.  

Now to tie all this together, the Tall One's band had been scheduled to play a benefit show along with Mr. Wells for Acres of Love, a non-profit group that supports abandoned and  HIV positive babies and children.  A BENEFIT- a concert where bands play for free to raise money for a good cause.  Not your band's cause, their cause.

Well, Tyrone "I'm-a-diva/dick" Wells found out that the Tall One's band was "high energy" and "electric guitar" and has 5 members and all that and pitched a 3-year old fit and said he wouldn't play if the Tall One's band went on before them.

??????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Cheese and freaking crackers!!!!!!  Since when was a recording artist with a contract, 8,000+ fans without souls on Facebook, and style pinched off a Tilly's ad scared of an unsigned band from south Orange County playing their 3rd live show ever?  You won't play as the headlining act because the band before you has more members than you?  What happened to generating money for a good cause?  Use your freaking influence and fan base to support a great foundation doing a remarkable job!  So what if the band before you is bigger and louder?  You're the headlining act!!!  If you're so worried about being upstaged, perhaps your music should be better.  Just a thought.

So now, you cannot see the Tall One play.  You can go see the lead singer do his own set, in accordance with the headlining whiner's wishes and still support a good cause.  It just won't be the same.

TD, I mean, TW is probably nice enough and just somewhere along the line sold his soul and social skills to further his music career.  He is a pastor's kid and is probably one of those artists that is a believer but doesn't beat you over the head with his beliefs in his art.  I'm probably going to see him in heaven and have to deal with him for eternity and that's fine and good.  My human nature just lives under the delusion that once I'm in heaven and I finally come across him, I'll actually remember all of this and I'll just walk over, kick him in the nuts for insulting the Tall One and his band and being a puss, and then continue praising God.  And yes, I just confessed that last little bit to God.  And I'll probably have to do so many more times today.  Hell hath no fury like a woman whose husband's band has been insulted.

Tyrone, you suck.

Tomato Tangle.

That is about the only way I can describe the spectacle that is my largest tomato plant.  I'll discuss this in more detail later.  But first, you get the highlights of 40 hours of travel!!!!  Grab a beverage and a snack and prepare for the horror!

We left downtown Ndola on Sunday at around 11:00am.  Our flight was supposed to leave at 12:40pm. Yeaaah, that didn't happen.  Ah, life in Zambia.  Our flight was full, the gate where we waited an hour longer than we were supposed  was full, it was a little warm, and I wasn't feeling good.  Added to this, I took a 24-hr Claritin D tablet in an effort to decongest AND dry up my nasal system.  I'm going to go with that wasn't fun.  One of the side effects of this tab is increased heart rate.  I was taking a shower, standing there shampooing my hair and could feel my heart racing.  Since I'm a dork and was wearing my watch at the time, I took my pulse.  I took it a few times because I couldn't believe it.  Between 120-140, just washing my hair!  I didn't like that.  So a hot, full airport with a racing heart was not my idea of fun.  Travel time so far: 2.5 hrs.

Johannesburg.  Last time I used this airport, it sucked.  Big time.  And now, I was here on a 6-hr layover.  Well, thanks to a delay back in Zambia, it was more like 5 hrs.  We wasted most of it souvenir shopping and sitting at this cafe where we watched Wimbledon.  Tennis!!!!  I know nothing about tennis.  I just drank tea and tried not to cough on anyone.  Finally, it was time to board our beloved British Airways plane and head to London.  Travel time update: 10 hrs.

The Tall One and I scored about as big as two tall people can in peon class- the right 2 seats of a 4-pack in the middle of the plane.  I got the aisle and the Tall One had no one next to him.  The bummer?  Our inflight entertainment was not working.  On an 11hr flight!!!!!!  Good god!!!!!  I ate dinner and slept for real for about 2 hours and then dozed for the rest of the time.  Oh!!  And somewhere over the Sahara- "Is there a doctor of medicine on board?"  YEAH!!!  Apparently, some girl in the priviledged seats was throwing up, and I guess they don't let people vomit in priviledged seats.  They just needed someone licensed to give a Reglan shot.  Putting years of medical school to work, the Tall One... international shot giver.  We landed at Heathrow shortly after dawn.  Guess what!  It was raining in England!!!  Travel ticker: 21 hrs.

Back at Terminal 5, I realized that my initial impression of the place was greatly underestimated.  That place is beserk!!!  You can buy just about anything you want there, eat almost whatever you want, it's amazing.  We had about 3 hours to burn so we walked around and pretended to buy things.  Weird quirk of Terminal 5- they don't post your gate until like an hour before you leave.  Guess they don't like that whole "loitering at the gate" sort of thing.  We had to take a quick tram to our gate once it was finally posted.  This woman walks on and posts up next to me.  I did a double take, and had to actually move to get a better look and then finally ask her- it was my freaking advisor at Saddleback Nursing School!  I haven't actually talked to her in about a year because I'm getting A's so she didn't exactly recognize me, but we talked for a while and she was so cool.  The Tall One and I almost got upgraded to the posh Club World, but then the flight had to go and be almost full so that didn't happen.  We left about an hour late because some people "decided" they weren't going to fly after all, but had already checked luggage- and thanks to little things like SECURITY MEASURES we had to wait while they found these people's luggage and remove it.  Travel timer: 24 hrs.

On our way to LAX, we did NOT score in the seat department.  We had the middle two seats of the 4-pack in the middle of the plane.  Thankfully, the two aisle guys were nice and the inflight entertainment worked.  Unthankfully, my sleeping pill only succeeded in giving me 1 flipping hour of drug induced sleep, the usual bad aftertaste and a lovely case of nausea and a headache.  I watched a lot of movies.  Highlight of the trip- Son Of Rambow.  Brilliant, hilarious- man, the Brits make a good flick when they want to.  Please watch this, but don't take your children because there is lots of swearing and taking the Lord's name in vain.  I also watched half of the first Lord of the Rings, Over Her Dead Body (which is inexplicable because I think Eva Longoria is dumber than a doorknob) and The Other Boleyn Girl.  I don't ever want to watch that many movies in one sitting ever, ever again.  Time tally: 35 hrs.

Land in LA, in the nether reaches of the airport.  We're so far gone, we had to take shuttles back to the international terminal.  Since I was feeling so awesome, it was no problem standing around waiting for luggage and then standing in a customs declaration line.  And then waiting for the Super Shuttle.  But at least we're almost home.  Time check: 37 hours.

The Super Shuttle almost maxes out its capacity and we're stopping in HB, Newport, Lake Forest and the Promised Land of San Clemente.  I'm feeling so rotten at this point, it's all I can do to stay alive.  I've slept about 5 hours in the last 36 or so hours, I have BAD sleeping pill hangover and I'm still coughing.  After we drop off in Newport, the logical step was to continue down Jamboree to the 405 South and continue to Lake Forest.  Our driver adamantly maintained that his course of continuing down PCH at 4:30 in the afternoon in the middle of summer was the best course to take.  We FINALLY made it to SC, where I apologized about 8 times to the Lake Forest couple for having to endure the detour.  They were so nice, they knew it wasn't our fault.  While getting out of the van, it finally hit me.  I poked my head back in the van and asked the woman if she teaches physiology.  It was a Saddleback science professor.  I pretty much blew her socks off my recognizing her.  We piled into the Tall One's truck and drove back home.  Final time: 40hrs.

I walked in and headed straight for my garden.  I don't know what Christy fed my plants while I was gone, but she should patent it and make her million because I walked into a jungle.  Mostly of tomato vines.  There are green tomatoes everywhere and I'm not quite sure what has happened to my serrano peppers, a curry plant and one of my bell peppers because they have been swallowed up by the tomato jungle.  Time for a trim.

Well, I'm tired, I feel lousy and I'm going to sleep.  Peace out.

Not dead!!!

Well, blame it on South Africa, a rogue Zambian with a bad sense of humor or the BBC- apparently the Zambian president is in fact NOT dead and is still alive and reportedly making slow progress in Paris. I'm going with South Africa for the blame- they didn't treat me well last time and they've only got 6 hrs to redeem themselves tomorrow. I know, pretty harsh to base your judgement of a whole country solely on their major international airport, but they did me wrong. Back to the news...

How do missreport the death of a world leader??? Isn't that something you confirm before you plunge a struggling country into chaos?

Today was debriefing day, where we break into small groups and verbally process what we experienced this week, with a group of strangers. This is always an interesting process. The Tall One was made a small group leader and he was quite popular- they had to cut off the amount of people going into his group. I almost didn't make it and you know what, I'm so ill-humored thanks to my cold/cough that I would've been pissed to not make it into his group! Who's the 4 yr-old here?? Anyway, it was interesting. Key points:
-everything went really well for this being the first time this has been pulled off here.
-if you have a long-winded comment for every area of discussion, guaranteed you're talking too much and nobody cares what you say.
-also a bad sign, when you start turning into an ugly American and stating that you think one of the university's FOUNDERS didn't do something the better way, and I quote, "Well, I think that was wrong?" Really? Do ya live here??

We also held an impromptu medical clinic for the Northrise staff and students. Good times! I got to brush up on my manual blood pressure taking skills and the other two nursing students (who will be starting nursing school in the fall) got great experience taking vitals and testing blood sugars. I even had a guy with a fever- 101.4! This guy=sick, the other pansies on this trip complaining of a little post nasal drip=not sick!! Anyway, we had such a good response that we are going to open it back up this evening for more students and staff.

And this afternoon... we went to a gospel concert put on by the university, free to the public. It...was...awesome!! People dancing and cheering and singing- such good times. We had to leave towards the end of it which was a bummer, but now I get to type sweet nothings on a computer for your reading pleasure.

All in all, HUGE learning experience. I love Zambia and hope to come back soon. But I'm still sick, my cough is worse and I really want my bed. Looking forward to being back in San Clemente and seeing the ocean, I miss it. And humidity. I miss that a lot too.

Queen of the BandAids.

Being a nursing student in a Zambian children's hospital is an interesting experience. I had no expectations of what my time would be like, this just definitely hasn't been one of the scenarios I envisioned.

Overall, this has been a very enlightening and extremely lesson-filled experience. I have seen some things I've only read about or seen pictures of in books. I've seen horrible wounds that have no place being on children. And, worst of all, I've been feet away as two babies have passed away. Since our time walking the floors there, they've lost 10 babies in ONE hospital ward. I'm not used to being in a hospital where the majority of the patients are not getting better or at least discharged. We have a superb nursing instructor, Joyce, taking us around every day and she is a wealth of information. Nursing is the same here with the same theory and process, but the way it's carried out and the resources used are different. It's not bad, it's just different.

But, if you're keeping score- we really haven't done much. We took some vitals, washed some beds, sat in on a diarrhea conference (which only makes sense to people in the medical profession- when we told people, they looked at us really funny), and asked a LOT of questions.

And then today happened.

Last night, the Shoreline people at VBS were telling us about all the kids just ruining themselves playing games and things at the school. Scrapes, bruises, cuts- they get INTO it! They were like, "You should come with us and do first aid!" So we did.

The two other nursing students and I went to the ART (anti-retroviral therapy) clinic in the morning to learn more than we ever will in nursing school about HIV drug therapy, and then we were dropped off at VBS. Where we had our first case within 20 minutes. It was awesome.

We tended to some pretty good scrapes, kids stub their toes playing the games because they kick off their shoes (that are too big to begin with) and then bang the crap out of them. I tended to a toe nail that will most likely fall off, that was my major one. And I took out a splinter. I had an audience of about 25 Zambian kids for that one. I think he was very proud of his bandaid afterwards.

Anyway, the VBS time was so much fun. The kids are so into it and have the best time. They have smiles, they laugh and sing, good times all around. But it is DUSTY! It has taken my waning cough to a new level. And oh, the boogers....

On a somber note- the Zambian president, Mr. Levy Mwanawasa passed away today. He suffered a stroke on Saturday, was flown to Cairo (or Paris, I've heard Paris too) and he passed sometime this morning. Thankfully, the country has not plunged into chaos, as what happens in a lot of neighboring countries. But, I am told he was an honest, well-respected man that was well liked by the people so it is a loss. The Northrise students said that this is the first time anything like this has happened, so they weren't even really sure who takes over in a situation like this. Apparently, the vice-president does not take over, but control is handed over the the Chief of State (?) who presides until a new president is elected, and that election date will be announced after the week of mourning. Presumably.

And that's about it for now. Our trip is winding down. We're going back to the hospital tomorrow morning and then back to the VBS to patch up more wounds. Saturday, we will be doing health screenings for the Northrise students and staff and their families- which I'm pretty excited about. Practical medicine!!

Well, we're late to dinner, but at least I wasn't rounded up with a whistle.

Catharsis.

Two more and then I'll let it go!

So, Cattle Call Whistle Guy walked up to a girl I know while she was making crafts with the kids the first day, snapped off a couple of photos, then leans down and says to her, "You KNOW, all these kids have HIV."

????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Snap Judgement #1- Is he warning her? And if so, he is aware of how the virus is transmitted right, or are we stuck in 1983?

Snap Judgement #2- In what way was that remotely relevant?

I don't like idiots that feel compelled to impart information for the sake of sounding informed, like they're enlightening you, and that was the impression I received from the receiver of said information.

Oh, and he cattle called all of us to prayer (all 20 of us in the cafeteria at the time) last night for dinner.

Snap Judgement #1- Moo.

Americans on parade.

Yesterday was a little rough.

Let me start with the information that the Tall One and I are part of one team of about 14 people from The Shoreline out of over 100 people from the States here in Zambia. Allow me to also confess that in general, I have a low tolerance for humans other than family, friends, quick interactions with total strangers and about 95% of my patients. Now picture me here, and you realize that bad things could happen. It's a little phenomenon called Snap Judgement. It's vicious, let me tell you. It's all in my mind, but it's tough.

On Monday, our ENTIRE group piled onto buses and we toured all the sites where people are working this week and got a tour of the city of Ndola in the process. We went to the two school sites where Vacation Bible School are going on, to the Children's Hospital, and to the Northrise University farm and land. When you bus that many foreigners around town, it's a spectacle. And in case you don't know me, I don't like to be part of a spectacle. Especially in the townships visiting the schools.

The townships are full of the poorer and poorest people. When visitors come, it's a highlight for them. The children come running from all directions and they just start yelling and smiling and waving- it's a happy time and you can't help but laugh and smile with them. And then you pull yourself back and you think about the oddity of waving from this big bus down to these children and you start to feel a little comical. At least I do. Like I'm on a parade float. And you can't not wave back, and you don't want to not wave back. The kids are all yelling "Bye!" back to you because that's what people say to them when they leave so they think it's "Hi!". Well, after a while, there were a few people taking it to a whole new level that I found just amazing and not in a good way. Like, hanging halfway out the bus window waving like a crazed sports fan at these kids. And sticking cameras in the face of every person they came across.

Next was the Children's Hospital where, again, the entire group went on a tour of the only children's hospital in practically the country. Now, maybe I'm a little sensitive because this is the place that I'm specifically at for 4 days during this trip, but for most of the people it was like oooh! ah! ICU, Malnutrition Ward, "Hey, did you see that 28wk-old baby?", "Did you see all the burn patients?"... I chose not to go on the huge tour because it felt invasive and I would be there all week. I had people pass me and say sympathetically, "Ohh, do you not want to go because it's hard to see?" And I had to struggle to put on a straight face and plainly say, "No, I don't feel like being part of a big group taking in these patients and their families' pain when I'm going to be here all week." Was that harsh? I think I'm being harsh.

It went on from there. But, let me give you some more highlights from yesterday and today since I'm still burning with the indignation!
-Being whistled at like a cattle call by an arrogant photographer who felt it his job to round us up to start the hospital tour. Oh, and while we were walking toward the buses afterwards. Because we were probably walking too slow.
-Is there anything more annoying that having to listen to certain people when you've come to the realization that they love nothing more to be heard?
-When kids are loud and obnoxious, like a lot of American high schoolers, you sigh and think par for the course. But when it's their parents too?

I'm kind of venting right now. I never once imagined that this trip was a vacation, I knew it would be work. I just didn't know that the work was going to come in the form of tolerating the majority of my own "kind". And I know I'm not alone on this trip in feeling this way.

Well, I'm going to post this now because I'm being booted from the computer lab and I don't have time to spell/grammar check. So all you proofreading freaks just relax and wait for tomorrow.