October 10, 2001

There are never dull moments in Peace Corps. Either the toilet is on fire, or your head is brimming with bright ideas that may or may not come to fruition in the next two years. Speaking of toilets on fire, I put one out last night.

I happened to wander on home to the PC Transit House last night after dark, which occurs around 6:30 p.m. right now. I'm thinking to myself that the alleyway it's located on is quite dark, and the 24 hour guard is nowhere in sight. I see that the neighbors, foreigners with a nice house, are unloading their groceries from their car. I am confused by the son's European skin, so I attempt Portuguese, and he ends up speaking in English. I ask him if he has a 'lighte'(LIGHT-TEE), flashlight in Portuguese, and he says, "Of course we do, we have a generator!" It was at that moment that I realized the entire neighborhood's power was out. His house was being lit by a small generator in the garage. He accompanies me back to the Transit House, two doors over, where he holds his cigarette lighter near the lock that opens the lockbox with the key to the house. PC loves to have us guard the key this way because as each person uses they key, they return it to the locked box outside the house for others to use. I slip into the dark house, and begin my search for candles. After locating a few in the living room, I proceed to light them, make dinner, and start a John Grisham novel by candlelight. I'm thinking how I've been lucky all summer to have only experienced a hand full of blackouts in a house that had candles readily available.

Then a moment comes, of what some may call sudden 'clarity' (duh, Elektra!), and I remember that I will be living this way for the next 2 years once I move to site! I will have to cross the riverbed to my house in winter before the sun sets at 4:30 p.m. to find my way. The nights will be consumed with stargazing, brushing Snoop, chatting with neighbors, playing cards, and reading novels from the Transit House. They currently have every imaginable classic, along with Oprah Book Club, Grisham, Rand, and King books...I have plans to read more than I did while in college, and maybe even translate a few children's books into Kriolu for the village kids. Volunteers say I'll get bored, but how can you with so many things to do and places to see?

So back at the Transit House, a few volunteers enter, and we are all talking by candlelight about how our days went. Pawny, a volunteer who has been here for a year, has an American boyfriend who has decided to live and work here for her second year. He jokes about how she has been so productive lately, getting him a teaching credential, 4 jobs, and new students everyday. She claims it's all due to the fact that she's so unsuccessful in every area related to her own PC experience that she might as well do something right for him if she can. Liann, who was medically separated a year ago for goat cheese poisoning that led to a severe inflammation of her joints, has returned with Peace Corps' permission to teach English in Praia. She lives in a house near my old homestay that is currently without water, so she decides to take a shower upstairs on the second floor before they go for dinner. I also decide to simultaneously take a shower on the third floor, and yell down to them to leave the candles in the living room burning when they leave because I'll be down in 5 minutes. I can't imagine the mess it could be to find my way downstairs if mine blows out during my shower and the others in the living room are not still lit.

It's an hour later that I am talking to Alex, another volunteer who is leaving for the USA soon when he finishes his hiking project, and I hear a sizzling noise (Note: Alex ends up staying for 4 years of service, not 2). I think that maybe it's from the TV, because we're watching CNN's coverage of the crisis. Or maybe it was Alex shifting on the polyester sofa while he eats his dinner. Twenty minutes later I smell burning plastic, and run to the kitchen. Nothing in on fire, but I run upstairs to find the 2nd floor bathroom's toilet engulfed in flames! The plastic water tank that sits above the porcelain seat is melting and spewing flames...Smoke has covered the ceiling, and it billowing out of the door. I yell to Alex that the room is on fire, and my first instinct is to put it out with water. But there's a scarity of water here, and I was going to run to the kitchen to grab a bucket from the trashcan they fill with water reserves.

He points to the extinguisher on the wall, and mumbles something about his navy training finally coming to use. I laugh, and we panic while we try to figure out to use the extinguisher. Note to readers: learn to use your extinguisher before a fire starts and check all fire alarms! Trust me. With one gust of spray, the fire is out, but the room is blackened, and soot is everywhere. We call the US Embassy Security Director who comes over to take digital photos of it, a record of the damage. Things I learned: 1. plastic is very flammable, 2. never leave candles unattended, 3. request smoke alarms and gas lantern for blackouts at Transit House, 4. trust your instincts. I had wondered if she had blown out her candle upstairs, but assumed she did, so I never checked. When I heard a noise, I should have gone to check. PC also needs to have better fire safety there. If I had gone to sleep, the fire could have spread and it would have been a whole other story.

Speaking of a whole other story, Peace Corps has already evacuated volunteers from three 'stan' countries near Afghanistan. They said they are waiting to see if the Muslim, West African countries pose threats to American before they decide to take drastic measures and evacuate. Cape Verde would most likely not be affected because we are Catholic, but you just never know. We sit at night watching CNN, pondering thoughts of what it will be like to serve in Peace Corps while a war takes place. I wonder what it was like for PC volunteers during Vietnam? Volunteers who have returned to the USA for medical care and are back have told us the amount of fear and terror is unreal in the USA. The Pentagon is charred on one side, the WTC rubble is still smoking, and we wait for the next CNN headlines as we start our day: THIRD WAVE OF BOMBINGS...WAR ON AMERICA...MORE ATTACKS EXPECTED. "What next," we ask, "what next?"