The Future, Here and Now

The future exists so we can see how we have contributed to changing our world for the better.

Or at least that's the mindset we should have.

Tomorrow is the day. I realize I've been ridiculously occupied and so haven't written much in the past week, while way too much has happened. I posted a blog earlier today below this one that was supposed to go up 6 days ago. Oh well. If you're reading this then that means you get 2 for 1 this time around. Because I think you're lovely. Also, this will probably be the last blog entry for a month or two because access to the internet our first two months abroad will be just about zero. The first two months is strictly program and language training and adjusting to the culture and country. The idea is not to have any distractions such as cell phones or email.

So to start, I think I've lost my mind. I told everyone who asked "How are you feeling?" that I was fine at that point but a day before I would leave I would be a mess. Well, I'm pretty close to that at the moment. Thankfully, I got most of my packing shite together a few days ago, but I still have a decent bit to do before I depart tomorrow. Everything is a wee bit too real. I have to do things I didn't even think of a few months ago.

For example. Tomorrow morning, before I leave, I will shut off my cell phone, and leave it home, and not have it for 2 years. That's fine, but it's just something I didn't even think about. I don't even know if I'll have the same number upon my return - my guess is probably not. Also, the things in my room that are mine. They will not be exactly where they are upon my return in 2 years - unless my mother decides to dust the toy chest I guess. So maybe I should have made things look a little neater. There are books and toys and little things that have been part of my daily life for 23 years that I will temporarily leave behind, but all of which offer some degree of comfort, and sanctuary to me.

It doesn't matter. I did a lot of thinking this weekend. My good friends from college (you know, back in "the day") came up this weekend and spent the nite. We went out on the boat up in Cold Spring Harbor and got back and had delicious pizza and mom's homemade cookies, and on top of that, we helped my dad solve a major dilemma involving a 5 liter bottle of wine. The dilemma in case you haven't guessed it yet, was that he could not finish it by himself. Wine all around, a fire in the backyard, a beautiful nite to veg to - it was all wonderful. I also got to go to the beach on Sunday for a few hours. The beach wasn't too crowded - the water was cold enough so I didn't feel the urge to go in, and the sun was shining brightly. The best part for me was the constant wind blowing off the water. It was cool enough to be refreshing, but warm enough to be tolerable. It filled my nostrils and lungs with the specific smell of the ocean during summertime. I was able to look as far out as I could and see little dots that were boats out in the distance. I got thinking about how physically far away South Africa is. I tried to look down the beach and picture one person flying like a bird to SA. The distance seems impossible. Yet it is anything but. It seems all that much closer not only because of airplanes but because of the ease of communication across continents.

But damn. I sure couldn't see South Africa from where I was.

As I started feeling the knots in my stomach and as I got noticeably quiet around my friends (something I try not to do, but seem not to be able to overcome it when something big is looming) I had somewhat of an epiphany. Well.... ok, maybe an epiphany. More like a grand realization. Whatever it was, it happened.

I get this anxious, nervous, freaking out feeling the day before I do any big traveling because in the back of my mind, I'm thinking only about what I'm leaving behind when I step out the door. The grand realization I had was that that was stupid.

Of course I will always be thinking about what I'm leaving behind, but the point is I have to change the way I think about it. I can't think about how much I will miss this or that or how much I wish I could take X, Y or Z with me. I have to think about how everything from home and my past will benefit me and my work in the future. I have to focus on the incredible adventure I am about to undertake. I have to get into the mindset that allows me to focus on the future - the next two years - in Africa - volunteering - meeting countless people - learning new languages - eating new foods - laying my eyes upon the beauty of the world. This is what I've been looking forward to for years now. I will miss everything here very much. But I can't dwell on the comforts of home anymore. It's not good for my morale or for my stomach. What I will take from home is the strength that everyone of my friends and family has given me, and the love that has been shown to me. I will share that with South Africa.

I've been put in a position that allows me to contribute to changing the world. Many of you have told me that I can in fact change the world. Truth is, anyone and everyone can, if they want it enough. My promise to you is to do my part, and prove you right.

I'll be back in two months.

Sala Sentle. (Setswana - Stay well)
Sala Kahle. (Zulu - Stay well)

-Joey

Great Expectations - not the movie

Bottom line. I don't really know what to expect. I've already decided to just let things happen.

Now that I've come to my conclusion, I'll try to figure out how I got there.

I talked to my brother the other nite about some of what was going thru my mind. Andrew had paid me a surprise visit at home - something unexpected - I thought he was stuck out in Colorado taking classes all summer with no more than a few days off. Turns out, I was wrong. Not only was I wrong, but I was blatantly uninformed. It's amazing the length a secret can go without being divulged to the party it's designed to be kept from. Usually someone blows it all up with an absent-minded comment, or maybe they just didn't know that person A was the person who as supposed to be left in the dark, and so tells person A, said secret. Well, that didn't happen, and everyone from my cousins from upstate, to my neighbors, to friends who were living in different states at the time kept mum. It was a wonderful surprise.

But. Back to my thought process. Andrew (my brother, for those of you playing the home game) and I took a ride to Jones Beach late on Monday nite to just spit a bit about everything we hadn't really had the chance to do. He got me talking about Peace Corps after a lengthy conversation about our own thoughts on "the afterlife" or the lack thereof, depending on the party. I realize reading that back that it sounds like something fourth graders also might have a conversation about... "Do you think there's really a heaven?" "Definitely." "How do you know?" "My sister's best friend has a brother who knows a guy who goes there on vacation in the summer." "No he doesn't." "Yea, he does. I saw him there." Well, maybe not, but I found myself answering questions or at least trying to answer questions I had never tried to put into words before.

It got me thinking about religion and what role that will play during my time overseas. South Africans are a rather religious people and often people will ask you to come to their church on Sundays. I realized I may be in situations where it is expected that I share my religious beliefs, or ideas about God. I'm very comfortable in my own mind with my beliefs, but expressing them coherently to another person proved to be very difficult, as my conversation with Andrew illustrated. What those beliefs are is not necessarily the point at this time, but rather how to express them so others may understand them. It would be easy if they fit into a schematic of an established religious faith, but for myself, it's not that simple. Anyway, that's a conversation to be had with myself at another time.

All this led to expectations from the Peace Corps. Someone had been talking to my brother a few days earlier and had asked him something along the lines of, "What's Joey going to do after he gets back from the Peace Corps? Has he thought about a real job yet?"

Ouch.

This brought up two issues.

#1 - It seems that some people don't fully understand the scope or reach of the Peace Corps, or anything that it actually does. This is not their fault at all - but the above example illustrates the problem of unawareness. I'll be honest - I have no idea of the scope or reach of the PC myself, but I would certainly stop short of belittling it by indicating one must move on to a "real job" afterwards. It's not just a two year vacation, as some may imagine it resembles.

#2 - I have no freaking clue what I'm going to do after Peace Corps, and to be honest, it's more or less the last thing on my mind right now. I have to get started before I think about wrapping everything up and moving on. It's like walking into a restaurant and having the obviously attractive hostess ask you if you've thought about dessert yet, or what your breakfast plans are for tomorrow. You don't have an answer yet, and you shouldn't be expected to. Although, a little word of advice - if an attractive hostess ever asks you what your breakfast plans are for the next morning, especially if she does it before seating you, you had better think of a witty answer rather quickly, and pray that you have a pen on you to get her number.

After Peace Corps... Already? Well, I've always had the idea that Peace Corps would be the key that would unlock countless doors, leading down many paths for the future. Peace Corps will highlight what I'm good at, where my strengths and weaknesses are, will hopefully help me realize where my passions are, and allow me to network with countless individuals - most likely all with similar goals and life plans as my own. At this point, I don't plan on staying around in South Africa for too much longer than my service allows. I expect to come back to the US, maybe go to grad school for XXXXXXXX. That's not meant to indicate my entry into adult entertainment, but rather just something to be filled in at a later date. I expect that my experiences will be something I can bring back with me to an academic environment, and continue learning from them, and share stories with others in school. Sustainable development, global health issues, international development and relations, poverty issues - all are possibilities for a grad school focus, but the list is by no means exclusive.

I guess I'll head back to Long Island for a while when I return to get my bearings straight. I'm sure I'll be in the mindset to get my own place - but I don't think I will be able to jump right into it, being that the readjustment allowance the PC gives to returning volunteers is currently under $7G. Maybe by that point some of my friends will have become rather well off, and will let me stay in their pool house, so long as I don't hog the courvoisier (does anyone actually drink that stuff?), or set the place on fire with an overabundance of Tiki torches that I set up for ambience, or scare the neighbors with my affinity for magic.

I'll need a job. Maybe a job doing research for a development organization, or working with HIV/AIDS issues domestically. Maybe bartending or painting houses for a few months. I'd be a great babysitter because I adore kids - even if I think they look funny. But I don't think many people would hire a 25 year-old long haired, bearded, Setswana speaking babysitter. At least, no one that I've come across. Ah - I guess that means I expect my beard and hair to grow long... That is, if I have much hair left by the time I get back. Yea, the hair gene in my family is not so strong, so I expect to lose a good bit of it. I've always been rather vain about my hair in my younger days, and I guess I still kind of am, but I promise, no hair pieces. Only combovers and spraypainted hair.

What about immediate expectations? Expectations of my service? To understand somewhat what it is I expect, you must understand that my whole life I've had a rather optimistic view of the world and the challenges it faces. I do express my fair share of disappointment and go thru periods where I think everything has gone to shite, but overall, it is my mindset that any problem can be addressed and dealt with as long as there is the dedication to solve it. Not just a "We should do something about this because it's the right thing to do." But rather, "We can do this because there's no reason we can't. You say there is a reason we can't? Well, we'll start there."

I'm not sure how informative this entry was overall about my expectations, but I'm sure I'll be posting more in the future here and there about what it is I will expect. For now, it's difficult. As I said at the beginning of this entry:

Bottom line, I don't really know what to expect. I've decided to just let things happen.

Events That Have Led Me Here

It's amazing I'm less than two weeks away from departing for South Africa with the Peace Corps. I suppose somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I'd end up here at some point. I just didn't know when. Because I've been waiting so long, and all of a sudden it's here, it kinda feels at random times like I'm being punched in the face.

I'm going to take some time to reflect back on how I came to this point, and then maybe talk a bit about where I may end up. Maybe mull over some possible goals for myself. I have them in my head, though nothing concrete yet. Anyway. Let's go back to the beginning.

Sophomore Year. It's March or April of 2004, and some friends of mine had just returned from South Africa, where they spent a month doing service work at the Mohau AIDS orphange. An hour of story telling and pictures flowing by on a projector screen had mesmerized me. My friends were up there speaking to a couple fellow students, a handful of faculty, and maybe one or two higher ups in the ranks of the University of Delaware system about the specific jobs they had done, ranging from administering medicine to young children, changing dipers, assisting with record keeping in the offices, or pushing kids on the swingset outside. The goal was to convince the University to establish a service trip as the main proponent of future study abroad trips to South Africa. I don't know who else they sold on the idea that day, but I knew I was in.

There have been times in my young life where I had determined "I will do X" and in fact I do X. Up to that point in my life, "X" may have been anything from eating a cookie, to finishing that paper that is actually due in four hours, to commiting myself to exercise for longer than a half hour. "X" as you may have inferred, almost always referred to small goals of mine.

So imagine my surprise when I heard myself telling my friends "I am doing this trip next year, no matter what it takes." It could have just been bullshit coming out of a very emotionally charged Joey, and I can see why some people would think that. Hell, I thought it at first. But then as I repeated the statement over and over again to different friends of mine, I felt the strangest thing... I knew deep down that I was fully committed to what I was saying. No matter what it would cost, no matter what I had to do, I knew I was going to do this.

At this point I would like to thank my mom and dad outright for supporting me and actually paying for my trip. They certainly made the process a billion times easier.

South Africa captivated me from the moment I stepped out of the mini-bus taxi that had taken us to our home base the day we arrived. As I stepped out of the car, I breathed in slightly and my lungs were instantly saturated with a richness they had never felt before. There was something about the air quality in Waterkloof Ridge that snagged me at the first possible instant. My experience only got better from that point on.

The month of January 2005 was spent traveling around the Gauteng province and just beyond, volunteering in one of three places. The Mohau AIDS Orphange in Atteridgeville, Motheong Primary School also in Atteridgeville, and the Tumelong Project, which for us was a day care center and primary school in one for children in the Wintervedt region of South Africa. We also spent a good amount of time visiting local sites such as the Apartheid Museum, Lesedi Cultural Village, a Cheetah Reserve, and the Madikwe Game Reserve on the Botswana border, which also happens to be the place where a handful of us had a VERY close encounter with a bull elephant while on safari. It was a very exciting and fulfilling month.

Despite everything we were involved with, very few instances stand out in my mind as life changing, and I think that's a good thing. It's good to recognize stand out moments when you are overwhelmed with new experiences, because the stand out moments put everything else in perspective. For example, while at Mohau, I had interacted with every single one of the children who were healthy enough to be with. I felt I had made somewhat of a connection with a few of them, and of the few, some stronger than the others. I felt needed by many children in the respect that they needed me to push them on the swings, or they needed me to reach a toy they weren't supposed to have that was on a high shelf somewhere, or they needed me to turn on the tv that was up too high for them. They were using me for my size and strength!!!! Well, who wouldn't?

One of my "Whoa" moments came about a week into my volunteer service. A young girl, Rafilwe, had been sick the last few days and was just now starting to reintegrate with the rest of the kids, but she was still not well. She cried all the time and would stop only when she came to me, and grabbed my shirt or beard as she sat down on my lap. For some reason, she didn't want to go to anyone else but me, and for a few hours, I was the only one who could comfort her. I felt needed, but in a whole different respect. I was only needed temporarily, yes, and she eventually would have been fine even if I wasn't there at all, but that's not the point. I realized that my presence could comfort a lonely child halfway across the world, despite having nothing in common, not even a language.

The other child who changed my life immeasurably is Gontse. Gontse was three years old when I met him for the first time. He spoke very little English, and for the first few days, we communicated via his best friend, Given, who seemed to be the head honcho and communicator amongst the younger children. My relationship with Gontse began innocently on the swingset, we moved on to the point where he was able to climb up my legs and into my arms, and eventually developed to the point where he seemed to be my own personal sidekick, my right hand man - thought mostly he wanted to be carried everywhere. From the moment I walked in at 8 am, until the moment I left at 4 pm, he was with me. His favourite thing to do was put his arms up (indicating "pick me up") and once he was in my arms, he would bend over backwards, wanting to be hung upside down and walked around the yard, viewing the world from a completely inverted perspective. I only grew tired of this after the 117th time in a row, but even then I couldn't help but keep doing it.

I'm not sure how this will sound, but it doesn't matter. I felt like a father figure to Gontse for the entire time I was there. It made me realize on a limited level, the feelings one must have from starting a family, and having children of one's own. What destroyed me inside was the knowledge that I would only be part of Gontse's life for three weeks, after which I would return to the States, and he would have a whole host of other volunteers who he could hang off of and have push him on the swings. He was only three years old, I had known him only three weeks, but he changed my life forever. I now had to deal with the feelings I had of him most likely not remembering who I was, despite my never in a million years forgetting him.

A third major "Whoa" event happened unexpectedly on our day off. To understand the scope of this day, I must first do my best to explain the company I kept while in South Africa. My four main amigos at the time consisted of:

1- Jordan Leitner - 21 year old singer-songwriter with an open mind and vicious appetite for new experiences and learning about the unknown. Immerses himself in a situation to get the most out of it as humanly possible.

2- Jeremy Whiteman - 19 year old with a passion for social justice, equality, an open mind and ever-ready sense of humor. Also has ice blue eyes and a huge smile.

3- Kwasi Agbottah - 23 year old transfer student originally from Texas. Actively involved in educational pursuits and examining how race and culture affects his everyday life.

4- Eugene Matusov - Our "professor". Actually is a professor of Education, also has a degree in Physics. (Eugene will have to correct me if I am mistaken) Emigrated from Russia in the 1980s after numerous run-ins with the KGB over such incidents as holding rock concerts in household basements and helping a drunk German man get back on his feet after he somehow crossed the border by train from China. Usually is seen wearing a fanny pack or holding a cup of iced coffee from local coffee shops. Also is the most brilliant man I have met in my life, as well as one of the most innovative and inquisitive. His thirst for knowledge is only outdone by his ability to think up new ways to approach this task.

Our unexpected journey ocurred after Eugene made contact with a friend of his (Lebo - notice Delaware shirt) from Soweto - a collection of black townships near Jo'burg. The plan was to spend the day in Soweto helping Lebo beautify and clean up the park area near his home. The park had had major work done to it after Lebo enlisted the help of community members who turned it into a soccer field for kids to play on when they came home from school. "If the kids don't keep busy, they get in trouble - either with gangs or fooling around with girls." In other words, a simple thing like a soccer field could keep kids busy enough not to get involved with violent activities and keep them away from the temptations sexual activity has to offer your average 12 - 18 year old.

We arrived with a bag of 10 new soccer balls which had been given to us by the folks at Mohau who had no need for them. We spent the first part of the day buying painting materials to whitewash a stone wall on the border of the park. The goal was to paint the wall white to make the park look more appealing, and to give local artists a canvas to exhibit their artwork. Throughout the day, local people would stop by to talk to us - ask us where we were from, why we were here, what were we doing etc. More often than not, after talking for a short while, the passerby would pick up a spare roller and help us paint while we conversed. I'm sure the sight of this many white people in the heart of Soweto is not a common one, and we invited more attention than I ever previously thought we would. It turned out to be an amazing day. People would talk to us simply to practice their English speaking skills, the kids would tear us away from painting to play soccer with them, and more and more people came to help out with painting than we ever expected. By the end of daylight, a six foot square portrait of a young Nelson Mandela had been painted on the wall, we were all covered in white paint, sweat, grass stains, apple pieces, and probably more bugs than we cared to admit. We were beyond happy.

The day didn't end when the sun went down. Lebo and his friends brought over about six or seven different djembes and other shakers and percussion instruments, and within minutes the sounds of a giant drum circle filled the air, complete with whistles and yells and Lebo and kids dancing - swinging their legs over their heads, stomping the ground, clapping their hands. Their was an energy in the air that was so invigorating you literally felt like your feet might leave the ground at any moment.

As the drum circle dwindled, a BBQ feast was being prepared. Sausages, chickens and the staple food - pap, was available to us, the guests, after being cooked over a wood burning grill. This was followed by a generous handing out of giant pineapple slices - so potent and delicious they felt like they burned my tongue as I bit into each piece. This was no small matter. Poverty is an issue in Soweto like many parts of South Africa. So for Lebo and friends to pool together and put together a meal for myself and my friends was an incredible gift. All of us konked out on the ride home - a testament to the energy spent and the fullness of the day.

It was one of the most incredible days of my life - one which will never leave my memory. What we accomplished that day pales in comparison to the friendships we made, and the level of communication we were able to achieve with our new friends. The most important experience of that Friday in Soweto was that of the connection made between strangers, brothers, friends, all ultimately human.

I needed to go back to South Africa. Not solely to see Gontse and Rafilwe and try to replicate the relationships we had, or to try and recreate the atmosphere of that day in Soweto, but to see if the entire experience in South Africa was a wonderful one-time deal, or if the emotions and feelings the country elicited in me could progress even further, and to see if I could make a lasting contribution to the country and the people that had helped shape my life.

Next up will be future predictions and goals. For tonite, I'm spent.

Robala sentle. (Good nite)

An Introduction to Setswana

I received an email a few days ago from the Peace Corps informing me that for the first two months of training, myself and the 90 or so other volunteers will be learning the language of Setswana. Setswana is a Bantu language - spoken primarily in Southern Africa, including Botswana, Namibia and South Africa. Though it is only one of 11 official langauges of South Africa, it is the national language of Botswana. The PC said we should get lessons 1 - 4 under our belts before we arrive. So far it hasn't been too bad. I am posting some basics of the lessons below not only so you may get a sense of this new language, but also because it will probably help me to write it down and say it as I type.

Lesson 1: Pronunciation

The basics are as follows - there is no such thing as letters Q, V or Z.
R's are rolled.
T's and P's are usually said with aspiration.
G's are pronounced as if you are hocking a lougie. (Actually written in the language booklet)
And the most interesting for those of us who have never been exposed to Bantu languages - there are approximately 4 different click noises, all indicated in different ways.

tl = cluck (like calling for a dog to come)
tlh = almost sounding like "Kuh" (scleroisis)
ts = as in mats
x = click that is laterally released (between tongue and cheek) I think this is usually accompanied by a pronounced N in front of it, but that's probably too big of an assumption to make at this point.

Lesson 2: Greetings

Dumela rra/mma = Good day/evening/nite sir/ma'am
(doo-MAY-lah rrah/mmah)
O tsogile jang? = How are you? (formal)
- literal translation = How have you risen?
(oh TSO-gee-lay jahng)
Ke tsogile sentle wena o tsogile jang = I am fine, and how are you?
(kay TSO-gee-lay SEN-tle, WAY-nah, oh TSO-gee-lay jahng)
Ke tsogile sentle = I am fine.
Ke a le boga = Thank you
(kay AH lay BO-gha)

Informal greeting
Le kae? = How are you?
(lay KAHI) (like tie with a K)
Re teng a lona le teng? = I'm fine and how are you?
(rred TEHNG ah LO-nah lay TEHNG)
Re teng = I am fine.

Lesson 3: Introductions

Leina lame ke Joey = My name is Joey
(LEE-na LAH-me KAY)
Sefane same ke Cardella = My last name is Cardella.
(se-FA-nay SA-may KAY)
Leina le gago ke mang? = What is your name?
(LEE-na le GHa-gho ke mahng)
O tswa kae? = Where are you from?
(Oh tswah kahi)
Ke tswa kwa New York = I am from New York.
(KAY tswah KWAH)
Leina le gagwe ke Aaron = His name is Aaron.
(LEE-na le GHAU-way KAY)
a o tswa kwa Botswana? = Are you from Botswana?
(ah oh tswah KWAH)
Ke moithaopi = I am a volunteer.
(keh MWEH-tie-OH-pee)

Lesson 4: Saying Goodbye

Go siame = Good-bye
(gho si-AH-mee)
Ke tla go bona = See ya
(kay TLA gho BO-nah)
Tlhola sentle = Have a good day
(KAH-lah SEHN-kle) (with click number 2 on first syllable, click 1 on last)
Robala sentle / boroko = Good night
(rrroh-BA-la SEHN-kle / bo-RO-ko)
Ke tla go bona kamoso = See you tomorrow
(kay TLA gho BO-nah kah-MO-so)
Ke tla go bona kgantele = See you later
(kay TLA gho BO-nah kan-TAY-leh)

Those are the basics. I'm going to get that under my belt and then write an entire entry in Setswana.

In about a year.

Tlhola sentle.
Ke tla go bona kgantele.

Gramps (again) and a laptop

At this juncture, I am officially dedicating this blog to my Grandpa JoJo.

I’m writing this current entry on my new laptop. And let me tell you, it’s a doozy. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad thing yet…. Actually, yes I do. It’s a good thing. I have been saving up some bucks for a laptop for about a month or two now, not really knowing exactly how much I would spring for. Turns out that I had a stroke of good luck, and a whole lotta love shining my way from my Grandpa. For those of you not familiar with Gramps, I wrote a short post on him a few weeks ago. You can find that post here.

Gramps decided he wanted to contribute to something before I left for South Africa, he heard I was saving up for a laptop, and so told me that he was going to pay for it. The only restriction was that it had to be a really good one, and one which I would be happy with.

Damn you and your kind heart Gramps!

In light of recent developments, I have decided to extrapolate a bit on Grandpa JoJo. Gramps was down for about 5 or 6 days. He had come a few days before Father’s Day and spent Father’s Day at a big family picnic we had with the other side of the family. The rest of the time here, he spends reading whatever material is in front of him. In the mornings, after taking an hour to eat one egg, a piece of toast, 5 and a half pills, and a cup of coffee with one sugar and half and half, he’ll read the paper. But when Gramps reads the paper, he reads the entire paper. Every headline, every tagline, every article, and I believe most of the advertisements that find their way into his line of vision. Cover to cover. It’s a daunting task, but he says he’s got nothing else to do.

Grandpa has been living on his own now for 21 years. My Grandma Edy died early in my life. I was just about 2 at the time, and she had died of ovarian cancer, on Mother’s Day 1986. Gramps always kept busy after that - mainly through travel. Grandma Edy was a social butterfly like no other, and a lot of that wore off on Grandpa in his later years. He would take trips anywhere, from Africa, to India, to Italy and Antartica. He would go with a travel group and meet people thru there, or he would go on his own and make the effort to befriend another adventurous spirit.

At 91 years old, you can imagine life gets pretty lonely. That’s why he comes down about once a month, and we go up to see him every so often. It’s tough because for him, there is no rush at ALL for ANYTHING. He doesn’t care if it takes 4 hours to complete dinner with other people. He doesn’t care if totty time goes from 5:00 to 7:30 and he’s still only on his second drink. He doesn’t like to be rushed, and you can tell that he’s soaking up everything around him. The way he delicately forms a forkful of food, combining tattered broccoli pieces with scattered onions, a small piece of meat and that little bit of gravy that has collected in one corner of the plate. It’s as if he knows exactly what flavour combination he wants to experience at the moment, or just the opposite, he thinks, “Now what other delights can I form with this generous palate in front of me?”.

Gramps loves the outdoors, and always has. This past week he sat outside on the swing in the backyard, tilted on his right side, and was just staring at the trees. He wanted nothing. He was content to let his eyes wander, and take in sights that he probably had seen many times before, but never grew tired of looking at.

Anything we ever needed as a family, Grandpa would not hesitate to do for us. Nothing is as important to him as his family. It’s obvious from the pictures we have watched together - always as slides, almost never as print. Why? “This way many people can view the pictures at once.” His slides show how much he valued family. Camping trips, boating and fishing, birthday parties, communions, graduations - all standard topics for family photos. But it’s in the way he posed everyone - waiting for the right smile, the right feel, the right time. It’s also in the way he organized his photos that shows how much he cherished these memories. Every photograph he’s taken since 1947 is organized by year in tidy rectangular boxes made for slides. These rectangular boxes are in larger boxes and each large box is accompanied by a black and white composition notebook that has a description of every single slide in the order they appear. It’s pretty incredible.

I’ll get to the point. I could probably write pages and pages if not a book on my Gramps. But I’ve been in a funk the last few days and you may be able to understand why if you do the math. Gramps = 91, Joey = South Africa 2+ years, Gramps - hearing - health - energy = unknown. I hadn’t thought about the drastic changes I will come back to after 2 years of service abroad. I can only hope upon hope that Gramps will still be ok until I come back, but I can only afford to be cautiously optimistic, and nothing more.

The best thing I can do for Grandpa JoJo is to update him frequently on what it is I’m doing, and to have him read not just the newspaper, but blog entries and emails that I send out. If he knows I’m doing what makes me happy, it gives him cause to smile. On top of it all, I will update him via the internet, the complexity of which and the ease of which information can be passed along absolutely boggles his mind.

I will be able to do this with ease when I arrive thanks to Gramps. After all, he was the one who bought me this laptop.

Cheers Gramps….

Toned Down and Reserved Lefty Musings

A few years ago I found myself absolutely absorbed with politics, the 2004 election, the Iraq War, and anything related to these topics. It's no secret that I'm a bit of a lefty in my political beliefs, but I realized that how I defined myself politically came to be who I was to the outside world. Some people are proud of the fact that they are die hard Republicans or Democrats, and I can understand the feelings they have about their positions. But after John Kerry [somehow] lost the 2004 election, I shut down for a long while, and months later, emerged a bit wiser and more mature in how I handled and expressed my political beliefs.

I still believe I was right in voting for Kerry at the time, and given W's approval ratings currently, I'm sure many people wish they hadn't voted for W the second time around, or at least had someone else to choose from. Let's be honest, neither man was the BEST man to lead this country. But while W ranks among the lower primates in governing efficiently, honestly, truthfully and according to his party's principles, at least Kerry was among the people who ranked among humans.

And it's not that I don't like W because he's a Republican. It's because he's divisive, secretive, foolish, immature and acts like a 12 year old spoiled rich kid who always gets what he wants - which is probably exactly what he was like when he was 12. More than that it's because of this war. Our maybe more appropriately, his own personal vendetta.

If you still believe the war in Iraq was a good idea, I still respect you as a person, but please please please wake up. There is too much evidence out there that all points to the same conclusion - that war was not inevitable, it could have been avoided, and there was no legitimate reason to go to war besides the fact that W and his neo-con buddies had an agenda. Even if you supported his actions going to war, virtually no one believes the way the war was handled is something to brag about.

Ok, enough lefty musings.

Two of my cousins, Corporal Matthew Currao - 3rd Battalion 5th Marines Weapons Company, and Lance Corporal Thomas Niemczyk - 3rd Battalion 3rd Marines India Company Weapons Platoon, are serving with the Marines, and another cousin of mine, Private Daniel O'Connor - 184 Military Intelligence Co. is serving in the Army. All of them signed up after the war had been going on, but all joined for different reasons.


Matt and Tommy have both completed one tour of duty in Iraq, and both are scheduled to go back in July. Just about the same time I am heading out for Africa. Matt is now a Vehicle Commander - meaning he will be in charge of all the men in his Humvee when they go out on patrol, diffusing IED's by day and nite. Tommy is a Mortarman - shooting off rockets from wherever he is, and lugging around 150 lbs of heavy machinery wherever he goes. Danny has not been to Iraq yet, but will most likely be scheduled to leave early next year, unless we start phasing down the US presence there.

The war is more than just a concept to me and my family, and this is as it should be. War should never be thought of as a concept. It should always be grounded in reality. Though there are thousands of our brothers and sisters serving in the military throughout the world, we are not all invested in war equally. Some of us will feel the loss if our brothers and sisters don't come back, some can only sympathize, but the tragedy in all of this is that some of us will not lose a wink of sleep over it. I don't want you to think that I believe everyone should have a family member involved in the war. Quite the opposite. I believe that NO ONE should have a family member involved in this war.

Tommy and Matt both do not mind being asked to go back to Iraq and serve their 8 months tours of duty. I'm sure they would go back as many times as they were asked if it came down to that. But that doesn't mean that we should ask them and every other member of the military to do so. Not in this war. Not with this "leadership".

War is viewed primarily as a national security issue, and not as a moral issue. War should always be viewed as a moral issue. One source says there have been over half a million Iraqi civilian deaths, and another, less than 100,000. You could probably find any number you wanted. The tragedy is three fold here.

1- The death toll may actually be over 650,00 civilians
2- No one cared enough to keep an accurate account of how many Iraqi civilians have been killed
3- When civilans are killed by US military operations they are not labeled as "innocent civilians killed" but rather they are labeled as "collateral damage".

This is a moral issue. It is a much more important and pressing moral issue than gay marriage. The difference being real people both American and non-American being killed everyday versus two people getting married and making homophobic people extremely uncomfortable, but otherwise, not causing any deaths that I know of.

I apologize for this being a political entry. There won't be too many of these. Sometimes there's too much going on to not say anything, and this is as good a forum (both private and public) that I have at the moment to say what's on my mind and not have to worry about being very centrist in my comments.

I didn't anticipate going down this road when I started this either. My next entry will more appropriately address what I was intending to get at. But at least this served as a starting block for you to understand how I feel (to a limited extent) about some issues.

That's all for now.

Countdowns and the What's Next

I don't do countdowns anymore. I haven't really payed much attention to countdowns since the last day of classes in high school. Y'see, there's always supposed to be this big hurrah about "Senior Countdown" where all the seniors who are still eligible by that point in high school (usually only about half the honors kids) get together in the cafeteria for 9th period the last day of class and share in some tasteless cake, snack foods, and some red coloured beverage, and we all count down the seconds until the clock struck 2:57 pm the last time for us in that memorable yet soon forgettable place. My senior countdown did not involve myself or my good friends because by that point in time, we had had enough of high school rules and BS, and decided to skip out on some of our less enjoyable classes the last few weeks. So we were told we would be given the ever dreaded "cut" on our attendance record and if we had... I don't know, I guess 4 or 5 cuts, we would be ineligible for Senior Countdown.

Oh the horror. So instead, the high school Commons was buzzing with about 92% of the 12th grade class and those few weird kids form lower grades who thought they were just as cool as the seniors because they had friends who were there. (Newsflash to those kids - seniors aren't really all that cool, and so you hanging out with them on their moment to shine doesn't really make you all that awesome either.) The 92% of us were floating around and jibberjabbering and had our own senior countdown in plain sight of all the school authorities who would soon mean nothing to us. We felt pretty awesome at life by that point and as we said aloud "3...2...1" and then whooped and hollered I realized that I felt absolutely no different than I did just 5 seconds beforehand. I knew for the entire school year that this was the last bit of high school for me, and it was cemented in my head long beforehand with college applications and my acceptance into the school I would eventually choose to attend, the University of Delaware. So this whole Senior Countdown ordeal really had no effect on me.

Someone the other day asked me how many days until I leave for South Africa. I have no idea. I could count them, buuuutttt that wouldn't do me any good. I know I have approximately 6 weeks until I depart. Again, I could do the math and figure it out but I see no reason to. There's way too much to be concerned with at present.

I have been collecting thoughts of what I would like to bring. Certain books, pictures, memory items, electronics (if they're even usable), widgets, gidgets and gadgets, outdoor gear, clothes etc. But that's just about as far as I have gotten. Collecting thoughts. I haven't taken any definite steps towards packing because I know that when it comes down to it, it will all get done. There was a great Calvin and Hobbes cartoon that alluded to having to be in the right mindset to get something accomplished, whether it's a homework assignment, creative project, or packing up to live in a foreign country for the next 2 years of your life. You can enjoy the comic here.

So what am I doing with my time until then? The most important thing to me is tying up loose ends here. I want to see as many of my friends as I can at least once more before I ship out. For some, I've said my "See you later"s already. (We don't say good-bye, only See You Later). Mentally it's tough to grasp the concept that your friends who you've lived close to your entire life are now all of a sudden in the span of one or two years living all over the country and all over the world, and realistically, things will never go back to the way they were just a short while ago. Wow, that was hard to write. Things won't go back to how they were, and things won't be the same as your fondest memories and most wishful thinking would have you hope for. I've struggled with this for a long while - we all do, especially right after college. But I realized (with the help of a very good friend or six) that that's kind of what we should want.

Undoubtedly, if you have amazing memories of your life experiences with your friends at a certain point in your life, you would love to go back and relive those experiences. That sounds great, but looking at it from a larger perspective, it seems that to do such a thing means that that is where our friendships and fun have peaked, and if we live in that mindset, we block out opportunities to outdo ourselves.

College was beyond words amazing for me. It took me a while to realize such a thing, but it absolutely was. For most people this is the case. But I finally let go of the firm grasp I had on wanting to go back to college as it was and started getting into the mindset that "I can do more, and there is so much more out there for me".

There are better things than college waiting for me, and of course for whoever you are as well. To peak at college would be a tragedy. No one wants to end up like the "Trip McNeely" types - high school star athletes whose time came and went before they could legally buy beer to celebrate.

The next step is huge. Beyond that, the possibilities are seemingly endless.

But no more countdowns to the next stage. I'll just take it as it comes.