Como Estan, Bitchays! (I tried my best to sound like Ben Stiller in Anchorman)

Hey guys. Hope you guys all had a wonderful thanksgiving in your respective Ohio Cities (Cleveland, home of the burning river, which happens to be both a tasty beer and a horrifying reality and reminder of the city's pollution; Cincinnati, aka the Nasty Nati, which has survived both a crack shortage/war and a hurricane since I have been here; Columbus, home of the post-OSU Michigan Riot that inevitably takes place, win or lose, every year), East Coast States (New York's Long Island, which instead of Jersey is the actual excrement of NYC, no arguments Steve-O), Southern States (Missouri, which will forever be remembered as a Southern State for its role in the Missouri Compromise; Texas, where it is somehow legal to murder people so long as they have a. trespassed on your property and b. are either a minority or a foreign exchange student) and Far-off countries (Mozambique, which the more I look at this word, the more I think it would make both a svelte dance move and a verb signifying getting served [You just got mozambiqued, bitch!]; Malawi, where I am sure Matty is a particurly brilliant shade of sunburned red; Zambia, where Patrick has within the last five minutes no doubt insulted a poor villager but then quickly apologized, so the villager can no longer justifiably retaliate; Ukraine, whose thanksgiving meal seems to have consisted mostly of pork and featured Ali inviting someone to kick her ass by wearing her favorite t-shirt inside out instead of "cowboying up" and doing her laundry). That being said, I am sure all of you are still yearning for the yesterdays of the 421 Shennanigans (cheeky and fun, not hurtful meow) as I am. Why just the other day I insisted that somebody come to my apartment and cook a meal so good it was sexually stimulating but not bother to clean up the dishes and utensils they used to make it, but then I remembered that nobody makes Manicott(I) like Stephen Blakeney used to, and my insistence would only leave me feeling a little empty inside. Seriously tho, Steve-O, if I pay you will you just come cook for me? I am finding it hard to make time to cook often and end up eating 2 (two, which btw Matty is the normal serving for a HUMAN BEING) veggie burgers on a sandwich instead of the 5 course meal I am used to. I can't even fit a bucket of birthday cake ice cream inside my freezer, so I have to settle for the paper box. And don't even get me started about my chili withdrawal. Allright, thats enough waxing. Don't forget to write anything and everything on this blog, even if you have just a few minutes. It will make me smile and hate med school a little less (I don't really hate it, just during exam week). I leave you with a picture that should bring a tear of joy to all.

It's Snowing in Cleveland

So first and foremost it is snowing outside, for like the fourth time already this winter. One of the lovely benefits of living in the snow belt. It looks nice though, very nice. Good to hear from our RAGE Global correspondents on site in Africa. Dave, hopefully there are no nasty parasites swimming around in your bowels. For an update on the old namesake home, the girls that live there severely lack the lifestyle standards we lived by last year. They don't even open the blinds. I mean come on meow. They will unfortunately never know what it feels like to see someone being pleasured next to their house, or make a complete ass out of themself in front of the random passer by. Well I am lame and must go to bed. Now for the Peter Griffin Side Boob Hour!

Giardhea (sp?)

Ok, so I just read this for the first time in a long time and it made my day, so Iºm going to post. Also, I havenºt posted on my blog so I have to post somewhere. Iºve now been in Mozambique for seven weeks and in Namaacha for six. I could bore you with the details of my daily life or I can tell ridiculous stories that are in no way indicative of my daily experience and will give you all a completely skewed idea of what life is like here. Iºll go with the latter.

I think it would be cliche not to begin with a story involving bowel movements (those of you who have seen me with food poisoning in Iowa have an idea where this could go). So I managed to go the first six weeks without feeling the least bit sick and then last Friday I started to feel a little bad in the stomach. Now, Saturday I had to leave to visit a current volunteer at 330 in the morning so this was awful timing. We had also just had the session where we learned that the definition of diarhea is four loose or watery stools in a 24 hour period, so I knew that it was just about 1030 when I officially had it. I should mention that we have an outside latrine (casa de banho) and that it was pouring down rain. I think the low point came at about 130 when I was sitting in the casa de banho wearing nothing but a raincoat and underwear wondering if the severe burping indicated that I had giardhea or if I had just been reading too much of Where There Is No Doctor (for those of you not familiar this consists of several hundred pages of descriptions of intestinal parasites and skin infections mixed with exhortations to eat well diagrams of babies being born arm first). So this was not a good time to start a 14 hour bus ride but I really didnºt want to miss site visit. So I took some pepto and oral rehydration salts and got on the bus. The first leg was awful, its about two hours to Maputo, the capital, where I had to transfer, and I held it together for most of it. But as we pulled into the bus station I threw up about 7 times out the window. After that I felt a lot better and had a great trip. It was great to see vastly different parts of the country, a site where a volunteer lives, and go to two of the best beaches I have ever seen in my life. One I am pretty sure is best in the world. Unfortunately while in the process of raging there I lost my sunglasses and my water bottle complete with Left Hand sticker.

Ok, Iºm on the clock, got to go. Ill try to give you more about my actual life later but yall dont want that yall want shit and beaches.