Chapter 18: Bar Hop a la Dr. Seuss

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I met friends last night, for dinner and dessert.
Little did I know, today my head would hurt.
Waterstreet Restaurant, that was the place.
Most of us were late, but it wasn't a race.



"Training", said my friends, that's what awaits.
For my life in Mexico, the Peace Corps, away from the United States.
So they bought me some Tequila, the large shot was plenty.
But after much prodding, the big glass was empty.



But the night, did not end, it had only begun.
It would be full of drinking, and dancing, and oh so much fun.
We moved from bar to bar to bar, on a whim.
I was worried it would rain, I didn't want to have to swim.



We closed out the bars, and spilled, onto the street.
There some friends, and strangers, did we meet.
But it was late, and we had to get to bed.
This morning I woke up, and took two Tylenol for my head...

...Farewell Cleveland.

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Chapter 17: Enjin Geiko

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The sun shone through the huge windows, casting long shadows on the room full of dark figures. Each one, cloaked in head to toe in deep indigo garbs, and donning full sets of armor. They each squared off if pairs. One on one, the way it was meant to be. A silent bow to each other signaled the start. They face off, with long bamboo weapons poised and ready. Then, suddenly, the silence is broken by the multiple yells of "Men, Men, Men"! No, I'm not describing what happened when a group of Star Wars fans accidentally stumbled into a Chip 'N Dales show. This was the special Enjin Geiko that the people at the Cleveland Kendo Club had put on to bid me farewell and see me off on my next grand adventure. For those of you who don't know what kendo is, it's basically Japanese Fencing. And the yelling of "Men" is actually calling out the target required when striking ("Men" in Japanese roughly translates to "Head").

This past Saturday I was honored to be the "special guest" at this event. The primary purpose of a Enjin Geiko is to thank the person who has been part of the dojo for practicing together (in the case of some people, I have been doing kendo with them 2-5 times a week for almost 5 years). The secondary point is to push a person to their physical limits. The event started off like a normal practice session, with stretching and warming up, followed by some rounds of Kihon (basics). But after that was done, the main event began.

The "main event", involved the person who is leaving (yours truly), getting in the center of the room, and everybody else encircling him. Then, starting from the lowest ranked person and going to the highest ranked (Sensei's) he squares off and spars with everybody, one after another with no break. Now to put this all in perspective, a 3 minute kendo match typically makes a person feel like they have just sprinted 400 meters. Add to that that you have no time to catch your breath between matches, and the fact that all you opponents get progressively more rested, and more skilled.... lets just say that after the first 5 matches, I was so exhausted I could barely keep my arms up, and I became nothing more than a glorified practice dummy. Ah, good times!

After the yelling had subsided, and I was in good enough condition to remain upright of my own volition (and by that I mean, they leaned me up against a wall and secured me in place with what I believe to be duct tape). We started a ceremony to hand out the menjo , or promotion certificates, a number of us had earned at the Cleveland Kendo Tournament back in June. A great way to finish a good practice.

To cap off the festivities we headed over to Asiatown, and hit up Superior Pho Restaurant (which, as you can tell from the name, is superior to the Number One Pho Restaurant across the street). It also happens to be owned and operated by a mutual aquaintance of mine and another member of our dojo's . There we were all treated to a delicious meal, cold beers, and good company. At the end of the day, I was painfully exhausted, and blissfully full.... I'm really going to miss this.

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Chapter 16: El Niño

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No, this post is not concerning the odd weather that has been encompassing the U.S. for the past few years. For those of you who had your heart set on hearing about cold water currents, humanities effects on the degradation of our ecosystem, and the resulting repercussions on the worlds weather patterns, please go here.

For the rest of you, I ask that you allow me a this chance to be self indulgent; selfish if you will. This post is about me, or more specifically, about my position within the group of new Volunteers being sent to Mexico this year.

Last week, I had my first opportunity to "meet" (through email) most of my fellow volunteers. And wow, talk about an amazing group. We got a response from almost everybody, and here is a rough overview of the kinds of people who will be a part of group M-3. There will be a lawyer, a doctor, someone with 25 years of I.T experience and a music degree, a mechanical engineer with 20 years of research background, and teacher with 20 years of experience teaching in Africa, Asia, and South America, an environmental engineer with a Masters and PhD... oh, and a 26 year old kid (niño) with a B.S. and 7 years of work experience. Yup, you guessed it, the last unimpressive one would be yours truly.

I had two separate reactions to discovering this. The first is "how the heck did I get into the same program as these people?". I mean, I'm not too bad at what I do, but I also do not have any delusions of grandeur (at least not without the aid of alcohol). Many of these folks have more "work" experience than I have "life" experience. In many of the emails last week I got a response saying, "I am old enough to be your grandparent" (their words, not mine). What makes it even more impressive is that, many of these people are near retirement. But instead of using the money they have saved up to live life in comfort and relax, they have all decided to give back to the world. Once again... wow.

My second reaction, is "That's awesome, the Peace Corps think I am good enough to hold my own in this group". And this is the point I puff up my chest, and start strutting around the streets(until the people on the streets, including our neighborhood bum "Jimbo", start giving me weird looks). True, I don't have the experience that these people do, but I did beat out 7000+ applicants for this position. Latin America is the most competitive region in the Peace Corps, and Mexico is a one of a kind program that most applicants would love to get into. And there is also the fact that a lot of the technology I work with is cutting edge. It's impossible for somebody to have 25 years of wireless software development experience, consindering the fact that some of the technology has only been around for 3-4 years.

So, for the next few years, I will be the baby of the group, "el niño". The only member of the team in their 20's. I look forward to it, and can't wait to learn from all of them!

Now all this baby has left to do is decide what brand of diapers to pack. Huggies? Pampers? Costco Brand in bulk?

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Chapter 15: It's Not You, It's Me

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Breakups are always hard. Even if you are the one doing the breaking up...

I made sure I arrived a little ahead of time, so I could mentally get prepared. I wore my Sunday best (granted, I usually bum around the house in shorts and a grubby t-shirt on Sundays, but you get the point).

It started like countless other breakups that I have been a part of (on both ends)... "we need to talk." From that point on, there was no doubt where the conversation was headed. I made it short and sweet. There's no need to draw these kind of things out. This day had been coming since I decided to join the Peace Corps.

It's was hard. But that was to be expected. We had been involved for over 5 years. We have had our ups and downs, but there is definately more good than bad. In fact, if I had decided to stay here in Cleveland, it probably would have lasted for a long long time. But my decision had been to follow my dream instead.

What's makes this whole thing even worse, is that I still have to deal with them for the next 3 weeks before leaving Cleveland. There will be the awkward moments of pretending nothing is wrong, when everybody knows there is. And then the uncomfortable conversations, "How are things? How is the family?". The day to day conversations that were once casual small talk will now be forced politeness. But it has to happen.

Breakups are always hard. Today I broke up with my job... ;)

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