It’s been a while, haven’t had a lot of time. In Africa now, I don’t want to sound lame, but I can’t believe so much has happened. Last day of training was fine. We played a cool game where half the room was in a culture that have a set of rules, men speak to men, women to women. We could only answer yes or no questions but it would depend if their question was asked with a smile, then the answer is yes, if frown, then no, even if they asked the same question. Twice the answers could change depending on their smile. I had the fortitude to be made a native, so I only had to sit there and say yes or no. The other team were the anthropologists and they had to figure out our rules. That night I paced up and felt pretty confident about it. We went out to the White Dog. My bartender was not there. We, about 6 of us got nice and buzzed. I woke up still drunk and got ready to leave Philly. Shots, (inoculations), loaded whatever I could that was small and heavy and not a weapon or liquid into my guitar. When we got to the sky cap area, we weighed our bags. My Costco duffle bag weighed 51 lbs so I threw out expendable toothpaste and shampoo. My Jansport Mozembique was 42lbs—12 over the limit. L was there and she shoved about 10lbs into her second bag that was underweight. It was an ordeal. My guitar weighed 30.5lbs!!! I was nervous that security would not let it though or make me unpack it to check the pills I stashed in there, or the flight attendants wouldn’t stow it in their closet. In the end I made it through fine but I found out as soon as I had checked the bags and walked away from the terminal, with the group, ready to go through security, that the 80lb weight limit was b.s…the airline took 100lbs (despite what Peace Corps kept insisting). There was no reason to put so much stress on (or in) my guitar or shoulder stash (which weight some 25lbs). I was miffed, to say the least.
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