This one is particularly special because it’s the year that I get to go home! I feel more than ever that I want to set a direction for my life as opposed to my general tendency to just go with whatever comes next. So what is the direction? That’s what these next few months will determine.

Smores is dead. This time there's no question; I saw her :( Smorsie was the closest I’ve ever come to having a cat of my own. I hate this place for the way it treats its animals.

I finally made it out to Harmony Hall, one of the few remaining places on the island that I really wanted to visit before I left. It’s located on the east end of the island, north of Freetown and has a restaurant and art gallery on the top of the hill overlooking the water. They are open only during the tourist season serving lunch and dinner and I had heard that the food and atmosphere there was fabulous. I was not disappointed. Linda, Len, George, and I booked reservations for lunch on Old Year’s Day and spent the afternoon there. They had purposely limited the lunch reservations that day because they were busy preparing for the New Year’s Eve festivities later that night, so it was nice and intimate. They also offer free boat trips over to nearby Green Island for lunch guests, so we took advantage of that as well for a little bit of snorkeling, swimming, and sunbathing. It was a wonderful day with wonderful food and I will definitely jump at the chance if I have an opportunity to go there again in the future.

Finished up the Fall term last week with our final exam on Friday. The new term starts tomorrow; I have 3 college classes in my schedule, including one that I haven’t taught before. Tuesday we’re meeting with Mrs. Jonas at the Ministry who indicated that they’re planning to start the teacher and principal training up again next month, so it’s possible I could have another class added there as well.

Went sailing with Bernie yesterday, then today, due to the gloomy weather, George and I cancelled a potential trip to Jolly Beach and instead walked up to Wallings where the dam was overflowing into the spillway. It was worth the walk to see although neither of us had our camera along (we’ve been there several times so I guess we didn’t expect to see anything new to take a picture of). We also timed it perfectly as the rain started just as we arrived so we were able to eat our lunch and wait it out under the gazebo while it poured down around us. Once the rain stopped we walked back out to Fig Tree Drive where George headed back the way we came to Swetes and I walked the rest of the way down to Old Road. It has been surprisingly cold the last few weeks (my refrigerator magnet/thermometer says it’s currently 78ºF), but I just put on a little extra clothing and try to enjoy it, knowing that it won’t be long before I won’t be able to make a move without breaking out in a sweat.

I am enjoying the first night of silence in many months. My next-door neighbor had surgery early last year and has had his TV or stereo on ever since. He came home from the hospital last May and has not been back to work. For most of the summer, I don’t think he stepped outside of his apartment for literally weeks at a time. I don’t doubt that he was going crazy; after only a day at home alone I’m going nuts. He was home nearly constantly for the past 8 months and every waking moment he had either the TV or stereo going. There is a door adjoining our two apartments, like the one they sometimes put in hotels. It was always locked, but it provides no sound insulation whatsoever, so I could hear his phone conversations, when he was cooking dinner, and his television as clearly as if he was in the next room, which basically he was. He rarely slept more than a few hours, usually watching TV till well after midnight, then waking up at 5am and turning it back on again. Sometimes he’d fall asleep with it on and I could hear him snoring as well. On rare occasions I would come home to find that he was either out or napping and I would usually just sit and read and enjoy the silence until he either woke up or came home and the noise started back up again (the front door would open and in less than a minute, one or the other would be on and the stillness of my stolen moment shattered). I was starting to inquire about new places to live and complained to my landlords last month that they needed to install some sort of insulation on the door to block the sound; that was when they informed me that he would be moving soon, going to live with family on another island. Yesterday was move-out day. Now I’m sorry that he is so sick, but really the life he’s been living for most of the past year is no way to live and I think that with his family is exactly where he should be. I can’t help feeling a little selfish though, hoping that it will be awhile before they re-rent the apartment next door.

I feel something pulling at me, but I can’t define what it is. It tugs at my heart and yet somehow the vision of it escapes me. I suspect my eyes are not the right organs to see. It feels like passion; it feels like love; it feels like God, but it’s just out of reach. I have had recurring dreams for as long as I can remember – most of my life I guess. In these dreams I am trying to get somewhere, usually to a place, a specific location, but I can never manage to get there; I can’t find my way. It isn’t so much as being lost, as it is that the destination is elusive. What is it that will make me happy? What is it that I should be doing (or being)? What do I want??? Is that the question? And if I answer it, will the outcome of my dreams change? Will I finally reach my destination?

I have made countless lists detailing things that make me happy and things that I care about, however nothing jumps out and screams, “here I am, the answer that you’ve been searching for!” I feel that the answer is right in front of me, or rather, right inside of me but somehow I’m missing it. It’s hitting me over the head with a brick and I’m shaking it off, getting back up, stepping over it and moving on without ever stopping to read the note that was attached.

My motivation has dissolved in the Caribbean heat. I’ve allowed myself to slip into a mode of complacency in a negative sense, that is, being satisfied with what is not good enough. With so much time free of outside distractions, I should be a master of self-discovery by now, yet I’m a master of nothing but boredom. Wake-up! Light the spark! Keep moving forward!

Spent the weekend sailing with Bernie and crew on the Huey Too in the Round the Island Regatta. This is the second year that I’ve done this race now and this year we placed FIRST in our class of 12 boats. What a thrill. When the full crew is racing, as it was this weekend, I’m mostly ballast during the race with a few minor jobs like holding the boom out on a run. Nonetheless, it’s still quite enjoyable to be out on the water, especially on such nice days as we had Saturday and Sunday.

Joanne had quite the eventful time – she was sailing on Trouble and about 2 hours into the race on Saturday they sent out a distress call saying that they were taking on water and sinking. The rudder had broken, leaving a hole in the hull about the size of a liter water bottle. They searched for something to fill the hole while simultaneously bailing and finally were able to stuff a cushion in it, but Jeffrey, the captain, had to sit with his feet pressing down on a board over the cushion to keep it from coming out and the water from coming in. Jonathan (dive instructor who now works for Antigua Yacht Club and drives the rescue boat) came out to ensure that everyone was okay and was able to secure a tow for them back to English Harbor, so they saved the boat and no one was hurt other than some bumps and bruises. The consensus from the other captains however, was that they should have let it sink! Apparently Trouble has such a favorable rating that when you figure corrected time in, they can make a huge mistake like going over the start line early (this has happened in fact), take the penalty, and still win the race even when the other boats make no mistakes. So most likely Trouble will be back to give the other captains more headaches in the future!

Have begun the very initial stages of planning “life-after-Peace-Corps” by doing a bit of research on companies that I potentially might want to work for (how’s that for being definitive) and the jobs that they currently have to offer. It wasn’t much, but it really helped alleviate some of the anxiety that’s been trying to creep into my head about what happens next. I’m feeling positive, even if I don’t have any answers yet.

Have been busy at the college. I want to leave an organized structure for future instructors of the computer literacy course, so I decided to organize a notebook of all handouts, assignments, and exams complete with answer keys and mark schemes. I’ll leave all of the files for them on the network, as well as burned on a CD. I’ve got it nearly finished except for a few new assignments and exams that I want to create for this term. The instructors are impressed as well as appreciative, so much so that Ms. Martin has asked me to create the course outlines for a few new elective courses that she wants to offer this summer. It's a chance to be a bit creative and I enjoy the work.

People that I know generally think highly of me. My mother leads my fan club, but it also includes others that I have known throughout my life. What is strange to me is that so many of the things that I do that people find impressive are things that come naturally to me, that are just a regular part of the way that I live my life and to do otherwise would make me terribly unhappy. Maybe what makes these things seem remarkable to others is that they are things that they would or could not do themselves, because it is not in their nature to do such things.

You can’t teach a Caribbean dog to fetch. It’s well known amongst PCV’s that if a dog is threatening you –barking, growling, or you’re afraid that it’s going to bite, all you have to do is bend down and act like you’re going to pick up a rock and it will take off like lightning. It works; I’ve had to use this technique several times myself when mean dogs started chasing after me.

Farley often walks with me down to the bus stop in the mornings. The other day as I was waiting for a bus, he was standing out in the middle of the road. I was trying to coax him out of the road because I was afraid that he would get hit so I leaned down and picked up a stick and threw it off into the brush, hoping he would chase after it. Instead, he crouched down right where he was, looking up at me, afraid that he had done something wrong. Poor guy, I had to pet him and speak nice to him to let him know everything was ok before he would get back up.