The Complexities of Service and Snakes

You live two years of your life in a foreign country trying to succeed in something, of which that you're not quite sure. Are you running from something? If not, what are you trying to achieve? Is it selfish? Are you really going to help? And the big question we all love to ask; is Uncle Sam paying for a two year vacation?
I recently had the opportunity (and by that I mean that nobody else would do it) of speaking on behalf of my fellow volunteers as we swore in to the United States Peace Corps . It was a challenging task, considering it was in Portuguese, and it forced me to ask these difficult questions, the paramount question; why is it that we are here, or anywhere, trying to 'help' the world. The answer is never obvious and it may be difficult to justify our efforts until we can materialize some reasons.
Recently, there was an article written in the New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/09/opinion/09strauss.html) asking some tough questions about the Peace Corps. It touched home with me because I am acting out the role most attacked in the article, an English teacher. Many of us would like to rebut the article with examples of success stories. I am not trying to do that nor denounce the efforts of my colleagues and mine. Instead, I want to put it in the lime light for all of us to chew on. That way, any do-good glory that my colleagues and I might receive will be earned and, more importantly, tested.
So for your enjoyment, or confusion, I have posted the link to the article as well as a video clip of my speech. Thank you so much to Alex Kruzel who was kind enough to record it and send me a copy through the ever-so-shaky Mozambican mail system.




On a lighter, but no less serious (?), note I would like to share a recent event. I have been instructed not to share this with certain people (you know who you are) but I simply can't resist. After winding down from the day by watching an episode of 'The Office', I noticed something black lying behind the front door of my house (for clarification, it was inside the house). Living in my situation I always think the worst, and use the most caution, upon seeing anything out of the ordinary. On this occasion, I was not unjustified in thinking just that. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that it was a coiled up snake. I should say that the area I live in is famous for Black Mambas, Africa's fiercest and most venomous snake. That being said, this snake was as black as night, and I made the connection. I quickly put on my Chacos, in case I needed to be agile and climb a wall, and then turned to my trusty hoe (no, not my trusty whore, but my trustier garden tool). With little delay, and an increased heart rate, I came down on the snake with enough fury to destroy the concrete floor under it, the entire time assuming it was a Black Mamba. I have now discovered that Black Mambas are not black, other than inside the mouth, and I am now not sure what kind of snake, or how venomous, it was. But needless to say, we will never find out. Ali P. Gross and I have decided that the next snake to come my way will be killed with surgery like precision in order to maintain the quality of the skin, which will then make a beautiful belt. I would like to add that my snake kill, Black Mamba or not, outranks Patrick's tarantula kill, for the record.