It's a buggy life...

The Facts:

Since moving into our new (ground floor) apartment, my roommates and I have had to face some of our worst fears....creatures lurking in the corners, or scuttling across the floors. To be honest, creatures (the non-poisonous variety) are not among my worst fears, or my fears at all, as a result I am usually sought out for my bravery and talent in the face of critter-adversity. I will however, go so far as to admit that I do occasionally get caught up in the excitement of the chase and scream a little, just for the fun of it.

Our ecosystem...I mean home...includes, but is not limited to, a variety of insects; cockroaches, worms, and spiders in addition to the expected mosquitoes. Additionally we have had one lizard hunting expedition so far this year. We have also seen traces of a mouse presence, though it seems to have emigrated, thankfully!

A typical day in the household...

Kari (or one of the other roommates, but mostly Kari) finds a bug. She screams. I run to her aide. She has caught the offending creepy crawly in some sort of receptacle. I find a paper towel or tissue. I remove the insect's prison. It attempts to escape into a crevice, but I am too quick. The bug meets an untimely end. He should have stayed in his hole rather than face the wrath of the ALICIANATOR.





This green bug catching receptacle (aka flower vase) was used a little too forcefully. I don't know my own strength. More recently I have used mugs and yogurt containers.


Sometimes the bugs get into our food. My coping mechanism: avoid thinking about it too much, because I am sure I eat more insects than I care for on a regular basis. Ants are common counter-dwellers and will swarm anything left on the counter. However, I draw the line at worms in the flour. Usually you can avoid insects/worms in the flour if you're willing to pay a little more, but occasionally critters happen. The last time we had worms Kari and Cori undertook the tedious task of sifting. It would be hard to get them all, but we like to think they have a 100% success rate.






The Science Experiment:

There have been situations when we have been in a hurry not had the time for our full exterminating ceremony. In these situations the receptacle is left on the creature until we have ample opportunity to deal with it. On one such occasion we left a cockroach under the bug-catcher in the dining room...mostly because we assumed that our house help would take care of it before we got home. When we returned later that evening, the bug population of the vase had grown to 3. We stood starring, puzzled. When we asked Aurelie (our house help) she thought we may have been saving the roach for a science experiment and was proud to have added further contributions. We considered her idea and made the appropriate inquiries, but our donations were rejected.

Realizing that we just don't prefer to do the bug-killing if we don't have to, Aurelie graciously dealt with the trespassers.

The camera doesn't do them justice. Don't be fooled!





Lions, and Tigers, and Lizards! Oh My!: A Creature Story

Once upon a time in a land far, far away there lived four teachers. These teachers lived in a spacious and comfortable apartment, and were very happy. They heard rumours that their apartment had once been haunted by a giant, translucent, bulbous lizard. The teachers did not bow to rumour or gossip so they lived peacefully oblivious to the horrors they would face imminently. Dun dun dun...

One evening the teachers (minus Cori who was out and therefore spared the trauma), being healthy and conscientious, exercised with Jillian Michaels. Afterwards, being hygenic, they went their separate ways to shower. It is important to note, the teachers (and their entire neigborhood) were experiencing a power cut on this particular evening. No sooner had they gotten to their respective bathrooms than a scream pierced the night air. Struggling to get into appropriate attire, Keren and Alicia emerged from their rooms looked at eachother apprehensively and rushed to find Kari. She came tearing out of her room nearly flattening her soon-to-be saviors, "There was a LIZARD IN MY SHOWER!" It had been eerily illuminated by the flicker of her candle.


Keren and Alicia sprang into action gathering a wash basin, a broom, a garbage bag, and a chair. The strategy: Stun the lizard with a head lamp. Swat the lizard down from the ceiling with a broom. Catch the the lizard in the garbage bag for easy disposal. Have the wash basin ready as back-up. The chair was to help the teachers reach the lizard on high, but as the first attempt to reach failed, the lizard scampered out of reach and when Keren and Alicia turned around, Kari was standing sheepishly on top.


After several attempts in vain, the teachers were able to flick the creature onto the floor and cover it with the wash basin. The victory was quickly followed by the realization that they did not know how to dispose of the intruder.



A unanimous decision to call the Corbin twins from across the street was made. The Corbins had proven themselves capable in several similar incidences the previous year. Their references spoke highly of their lizard-disposing skills. The twins arrived promptly, pliers, garbage can lid, and stale baguette in hand.


The teachers stepped out of the bathroom closing the door behind them. They did not want to be a part of the violence that was about to unfold. They stood in the darkness listening to the scuffling, banging, and exclamations beyond the door.

Within minutes, the boys emerged from the bathroom with their lizard trophy grasped in the pliers. The heroes left to dispose of their prey.


The fate of the lizard remains unknown. The teachers don't like to ask questions, but they live peacefully in their spacious and comfortable apartment once more.

End of Quarter CRAZINESS!!!

Have you ever felt like you were stuck on a roller coaster and just couldn't get off? I actually love roller coasters, so under normal circumstances I would be loving life. However, I don't find it so enjoyable when I'm stuck on said roller coaster and start to feel claustrophobic and the end of the ride is not in sight.

I should preface this seemingly negative introduction with a confession: I have in fact, watched several of the Texas Rangers playoff games. As you may realize, they are (at least) four hours later here than local time. This means that even if it's a 4pm game in Detroit, it starts at 8pm here. This sounds reasonable enough, but if a person were watch the whole thing, they wouldn't get to bed until after midnight. For some people this would not be a problem, but for an individual like myself this DOES become a problem. Especially when it develops into a pattern. Miss Black become a monster, comparable to the Incredible Hulk without all the green muscles and potential for saving the world.

That being said, back to the roller coaster. This past Wednesday was the end of the first quarter. Grades are due Monday. My grading pile is many inches too thick. Tonight my handball team plays an elimination match in the tournament playoffs. Immediately following handball I am responsible for close to 40 middle schoolers...not just for a few hours. No, that wouldn't be worth it. I am the staff sponsor for their lock-in AKA all-nighter AKA sleepless night for Miss Black. Tomorrow afternoon I am taking care of my friend Micah. He's six and his parents are out of town so we're hanging out for a few hours. If the Royal Pains make the finals I will be playing the next round of handball Saturday night. Sunday's schedule includes church and small group. There's a lot on the go. I feel overwhelmed...and apparently I'm using my blog to blow off some steam.

I was feeling slightly panicked and lamenting my very full schedule in the staff room this morning when I realized that I was sounding very negative. On a roller coaster our vision is often blurred by the speed or the wind, but I don't want to be blinded or become known as an 'Eyore' so I promptly decided that I should brainstorm some of the brighter things in my life at the moment.

1. My classroom A/C has been working reasonably well after months of not working at all. If I leave it on overnight it's a freezer in the morning and the cold stays in for most of the school day.

2. My first class today was very engaged in the reader's theater they were doing this morning about King Hammurabi's Code of Law.

3. Last year I found it hard to go back to teaching after lunch, but this year I usually look forward to my afternoon classes. They are smaller and we have a lot of fun. Today we are creating scavenger hunts.

4. While I was brainstorming my list of positives, one of the teachers in the staff room told me that I looked pretty today :)

5. The coffee this morning was French Vanilla...yummmm

6. A frustrating conversation I had this morning was resolved quickly and the person who had hurt my feelings apologized

7. The Middle School Senate is really excited about the lock-in and have done the majority of the planning

8. I found enough sponsors who are crazy enough to stay up all night with me

9. I love the kids I teach...and think most of them love me back

10. Supper will be waiting for me when I get home this afternoon: shrimp and bacon fettucine.

Needless to say I won't be blogging this weekend, but I'll see you on the flip side!

PS. For those of you who submitted an answer to last week's trivia question, I played field hockey in middle school and again in my OAC (grade 13 in Ontario) year.

Miss Black's Handball Debut

To say that sports are big here at DA would be an understatement. Our girls and boys varsity volleyball teams, girls and boys intermediate soccer, varsity and junior varsity softball teams are all on the go. In addition, intramural handball started this past weekend. "What is handball?" you may ask. I myself was unfamiliar with this somewhat obscure sport. It could be described as a hybrid of basketball and soccer. You can dribble the ball three times and take three steps before passing or shooting. Players may not cross the goal crease, and ultimately the objective is to score on the opposing team's net. The game is played on the 'petit poteaux' court which looks like a cement hockey rink.

Those of you who knew me "way back when" may remember that I was, at one time, very athletic. For others of you who have come to know me in more recent years, this may sound somewhat far-fetched, but alas, it is the truth. Here's a trivia question for you, my reading public: Do you know which middle school AND high school sport I played back in the day? (Answer to come in an upcoming post)

So handball...last year I was a spectator, but found myself unexpectedly saddened to be sitting on the sidelines. There's something about the lights at night, the music, the excitement, that made me want to be a part of it all. I wanted to jump in, so this year I did. I'm not going to lie, I was nervous, terrified really. I had visions of myself falling over children, falling into the net...falling in general. I couldn't think of other embarrassing feats, but I was sure I would accomplish something epically ridiculous in front of staff, students, and parents. I went so far as to arrange a tutorial and practice before the 'season' began. All my best intentions were for naught. I showed up to school for the season opener feeling like the inexperienced, insecure, rookie that I was. As I approached my team, the Royal Pains, waving my hellos, my foot caught on a stone and I found myself splayed across the pathway...backpack, water bottle, and shoes strewn about. I think my teams morale faltered as they helped me up and brushed me off. My worst fear had come true before I even stepped on the court.

Though I wasn't the MVP I did have a great time and I played hard. We are 2 for 2 after the first weekend. Next weekend will be a challenge as we are up against two tough teams.

Mr. Austin is the unofficial photographer at DA. He takes hundreds of photos at any given event and posts them almost immediately. He caught some amazing images of jump shots and great plays as seen below, but as I was browsing through the album I lamented to my friends Danielle and Cori that my athletic prowess had not been recorded for friends and family at home.

Rudyo takes a jump shot to score as Blue crushes Orange.

Aaron approaches defender, Phil, as he launches the ball

Amber, Royal Pains team captain, scores on her jump shot. We win 6-3 over the Midnight Furries.

In response to my laments, today I received the cartoon below, capturing my handball debut, compliments of my friend Danielle. She’s been having a lot of fun with ‘microsoft paint’ lately. Check out her artwork…and entertaining anecdotes at: http://missbowers.blogspot.com/ In other news, she also had to confiscate a machete recently…she has all the fun.

And so, without further ado...Miss Black (aka Alicia)'s Handball Debut:

The Fort

Dakar Academy's staff has increased significantly for the 2011-2012 school year. This is a good thing. It means that I get to teach what I like and other teachers get to teach what I don't like. Fortunately, those other teacher don't necessarily feel the same way about the classes I avoid...like MATH.

In addition to changing my teaching schedule (ever so slightly), the larger staff has led to some housing changes. Last spring Kari and I were asked to consider leaving our smaller two bedroom apartment to room with two other young female teachers in a 4 bedroom apartment. We moved from the Sandcastle, a DA apartment building, directly across the street. Our building has 3 or 4 other DA families and has been affectionately dubbed "The Fort". This name was inspired by the old fort behind the building, and by the association with the sand"castle".



I live with Kari, my roommate from last year, Cori, a fellow Canadian and close friend from last year, and Keren, a Korean-American. She is new to DA. Though there are four of us living together, the apartment is huge and allows us to spread out. We each have our own bathroom with a shower and bathtub. Nabrissa, the DA housing director, did an amazing job at making the place comfortable AND esthetically pleasing. We have added a few personal touches and are loving our "new digs". I can't believe I just wrote that...forgive me.

Welcome to our humble abode.


Watch that our triple-wide front door doesn't hit you as you come in...it has a tendency to close on people. This is the entrance/foyer area. It's a lovely sitting area to chat, read, or nap. My favourite feature, the funky cushions.









Continuing straight ahead, this is the dining area. We don't have a ton of cupboard space considering there are four of us, but we have some extra storage out here. We love the large table, it comfortably seats six as is, but also has an extension that doubles the size. The window creates a great cross-breeze, and looks out onto our back courtyard which is basically for hanging laundry. The walls are high for safety reasons so there's not much of a view. However, we are glad to have easily accessible clotheslines. My favourite feature of the dining room, the "coffee station" in the back left corner.





Continuing to the very back of the house is the kitchen. I spend a lot of time in the kitchen and have been impressed with my cooking adventures this year. No, nothing spectacular, but a little further 'out of the box' than I tried last year. I am very excited about my recent purchase of a blender for mango smoothies...mmmm. My favourite feature in the kitchen, the washing machine (soooo convenient).





Come back to the foyer and hang a left as you leave the dining room. This is our living room and where we spend most of our time. You may recognize our GIANT furniture from last year. It fits much better in our GIANT apartment this year. We were pleased to host our first soiree this past weekend and enjoyed taking advantage of the space. My favourite feature, the TV.













Standing at the living room door, you will cross the foyer and take a quick left into my room. Kari's room is off the living room and Cori's is at the back of the house on the same side. Their rooms are the most spacious, but I am very happy with my small, cozy room. It's an improvement to feeling swallowed by the vastness of last year's. My favourite feature, my picture wall.










My bathroom really isn't much to see, but I have included it for two important reasons. Number one, I have one...all to myself! Number two, I am really proud of the simple decor. My favourite feature, the shower curtain.







That concludes the tour. Feel free to stop by anytime, we'd love to have you! For real. I mean it. Come!

Silence...

...that which is left when events unfold that leave you reeling and unsure of what to do or say next. Silence takes over, punctuating the shock. Though the news of Suzi's death has left me speechless, Suzi does not leave me speechless. In fact, there aren't enough words to contain Suzi.

I sat down to write something to honour my friend, something creative, witty, heartfelt and expressive, just like her, but anything and everything I write seems flat and unsubstantial. You can’t fit a person, a personality, like Suzi into words, which is quite fitting actually since Suzi never liked to be put in a box.

Once you met her it was impossible to forget her. It was inevitable that she would impact your life. In all honesty I don’t remember exactly when or how Suzi entered my life because she has been a fixture since my middle school days. She was my small group leader in high school and she has been challenging me ever since. Even now, 15 years later, the group has changed and evolved multiple times but we still brag about being the Best Small Group Ever. When you consider our professionally designed hand-outs, endless “detours”, inside jokes, meaningful conversations, and of course the coffee, I don’t think it’s even up for debate. We are the best small group EVER. There was no skirting around the controversial issues. I found myself driving home on a weekly basis wrestling with the personal application of our discussions. It was reading Mark Batterson’s “Wild Goose Chase” as a small group that prompted me to investigate teaching overseas and it was largely due to Suzi’s encouragement that I now find myself pursuing God’s plan for my life here in Senegal.

The depth of Suzi’s insight never ceased to amaze me. She read more than anyone else I know, and was often reading 4 or 5 books at the same time. I sometimes wonder if ebook readers were invented solely for her use. I am left wondering what I will read without my personal consultant to advise me.

One of the things I admired most was this endless thirst for knowledge, and experience. It was not at all unusual for me to show up at her place for a Saturday movie night or a Monday small-group night to be greeted by, “coffee?” followed immediately by, “have you heard of this book?”, “have you listened to this amazing song?”, “have you seen this new videoclip?” Suzi loved to expose others to her newest finds and we were always the better for it, if not simply entertained.

She was an adventurer as is evident by her many travels to New York, Ukraine, Sachigo Lake, and of course, Paris. I have never met anyone as passionate about Paris as Suzi was. She could plan your itinerary down to the meal you should order at a particular bistro on the left bank. As much as I enjoyed talking about Paris and sharing stories of our visits, it is her passion that resonates with me. Suzi was a passionate person. Even her deep, full, laugh exuded the whole-heartedness with which she embraced life.

Scarves, toile, japanese cherry blossom scent, St. Jacob’s market, Star Trek, Lug products, Jane Austen, JJ Abrams, Starbucks, the fall, even a national monument as famous as the Eiffel Tower will always carry my thoughts to my dear friend and bring a smile to my face.

She was my loyal friend and mentor. She possessed so many of the qualities I aspire to attain. She was insightful, well read, and a creative genius. Her life was an example of servant-hood and selflessness. Suzi pursued God and a closer relationship with Him relentlessly and influenced others toward the same goal. She was funny, genuine, and passionate. She dedicated herself wholeheartedly to any and all of her pursuits. She has left such an indelible mark on my life that it’s hard to know what would be left of me had she not been a part of who I have become.

I think that under different circumstances, if Suzi were grieving with us, she might find encouragement and strength in the words of her favourite poet, Rainer Maria Rilke:

Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the question themselves, as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, some day far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

I miss you more than...miss you more.

Black is Back!

Friends, Romans, Countrymen (and women) I have returned! Returned to the blogosphere, returned to school, returned to Dakar. Where have I been, you might ask? Well, I’ve been here and there. It feels like almost everywhere.

I recently took the time to look back over my blog posts and realized that if you didn’t know me better you might think I spent the last year touring Europe. It doesn’t look like we ever did finish the ‘When in Rome’ series. Consider this the Reader’s Digest version: Basically we spent our last day in Venice wandering. We rode the vaparetto up and down the Grand Canal. We ate in the sun at a gorgeous outdoor pizzeria, and we saw Dame Judi Dench. On the way back to Rome our train broke down forcing us to wait on the station platform, exposed to the elements, until arrangements were made for another one. Our 4-hour window shrunk to 1-hour and we found ourselves running through Termini station like mad women, arriving just in time for our airport transfer. We caught our flight, without incident, and made it home safe and sound. The End.

The last quarter seemed to fly by. I enjoyed a visit from my mom and our friend Denise who made a side trip to Dakar on their way to Europe. I played tour guide and introduced them to a few of my favourite sights and restaurants in the city. They survived the insanity of Dakar traffic, though a little worse for wear. I stayed a few nights with them at a beautiful oceanfront hotel where we were treated like royalty. It was a mini-vacation for me and propelled me into the frenzy known as ‘the end of the school year.’

The last couple of weeks of school were a blur. I know that one of my highlights was teaching a unit on ancient Rome. Yes, I am a “true” teacher. What can I say? My recent vacation and some of the neat resources I had found in Rome and Pompeii inspired me. The kids seemed to be equally engaged. I even introduced them to Rick Steves.

The school celebrated its 50th Anniversary the last weekend of school. There was a plethora of activities commemorating staff, students and ministry at DA over the years. Visitors flew in from as far as Australia, and beyond, to be a part of the festivities. We enjoyed fireworks and cake at the closing ceremony only hours before I flew to North America. It made me feel a bit like a celebrity; attending the Academy Awards and then being whisked away to catch a red-eye flight to my waiting public.

Within an hour or two of landing in Washington, DC I found myself at Camden Yards watching the Orioles take on the Jays. I celebrated the beginning of summer with my team as they celebrated a win on the road. For those inquisitive minds out there, my first meal in North America was chicken tenders and fries at the game, followed by cheesecake at the Cheesecake Factory. Regrettably, the first cheesecake of the summer became the first tragedy of the summer when I forgot my leftovers in the hotel fridge.

The summer itself was a whirlwind of excitement and I loved every minute of it. My tight schedule continued to support my illusion of celebrity status with back-to-back lunches, dinners, coffee dates, and movie nights with friends. In addition to seeing friends and family some highlights included; visiting my previous school for a day and attending grade 8 graduation, 10 days in Newfoundland with my grandparents and a road trip home with my 2 favourite guys, a St. Jacobs day-trip, specially planned book club and small group meetings, and a 7-day vacation in Vegas with the girls.

My packed schedule kept me from thinking much about Senegal, but before I knew it I was back in the heat and humidity of Dakar. Though I must say, when you sweat here, in Africa, you know you're in good company. You also know you're in Africa when you go to bed and it feels like you're sleeping in a sandbox or, when you find yourself hunting lizards during a power outage...but those are stories for another day.

Keep checking in, pictures and posts coming soon to a blog near you.

When in Rome: Day 7 (Well...When in Venice actually)

About a month and a half ago, four adventurous friends went off on an journey to Italy, in pursuit of delicious pasta and fine espressos and in pursuit of a break from the humdrum dullness of everyday life in Dakar, Senegal. One of those friends was selected to tell the stories of their adventures, like the bards of old (except, without the rhyming--you really don't want her to rhyme. She's dreadful at the rhyming stuff). And then she got bogged down by the ordinary parts of life when they returned from their Italian adventure, and although she tried very hard to write about Italy in a prompt and timely fashion, everything else pressed in on her attention, until now, when she decided to use it as an excuse to procrastinate from marking the 34 research papers she needs to grade in the next week and half.

This is the continuation of their story.

On the seventh day of their journey the four women went to Venice.

This is the famous clock tower of St. Mark's square, a tiny peek of St. Mark's Basilica, and the Doge's Palace. If she is allowed to boast a little bit, Danielle is quite pleased with this shot, and thinks that perhaps Venice should use it as a postcard, and send the profits to Danielle to help pay off her college loans.


They arose early in the morning to catch their 9:30 train. Danielle got up earlier than the others to shower, and so she was ready to go by 7:30. Everyone else was still getting up slowly—they didn’t have to leave until 8:30 or so, so there really wasn’t a rush—Danielle just wanted a hot shower. At 7:45, the doorbell rang: it was Marcello, the little Italian man who owned the flat, coming to pick up the keys. Kari had been trying and trying to get in touch with Marcello to arrange the key drop off, but to no avail. She’d finally sent him an email telling him we were going to leave the flat at 8:30. So, he arrived at 7:45. The doorbell buzzing was the signal for everyone to wake up. After the doorbell chimed, there was a tremendous scuffle from Alicia and Kari’s bedroom, and a cry of “Shoot!” from Kari as she leaped up, and rushed into the bathroom. Danielle calmly spoke to Marcello on the intercom, and buzzed him up. She wasn’t really sure what to do with him when he came—would he sit in the living room and watch all of them scurry about to pack up the various last minute paraphernalia? Anticipating an awkward moment, Danielle let Marcello in. Marcello looked about in some confusion at the still unpacked apartment.

“When are you leaving?” He asked.

“Um…8:30…”

“Oh. Okay. I will come back.” And he left. And Danielle was relieved that she didn’t have to entertain him politely for forty-five minutes till everyone was ready to go.

At 8:30, they stood waiting for Marcello outside the building. It was raining—the first day of bad weather the whole trip, for which the four were very grateful. It had been beautiful in Rome for six days.

When Marcello walked around the corner, he opened his arms wide and said: “Rome is crying because you are leaving her.”

This man was a charmer in his day.

As they waved goodbye, and walked away from Marcello, Kari mused: “I really feel like he wanted me to give him a hug. But I wasn’t sure what to do.”

Finding the right train was not too difficult, but finding the reserved seats proved a nightmare. Apparently, the four no longer had reserved seats, because the train was a different type from the one originally planned on. It was rather trying to figure out where to sit, and they were juggling hand luggage, suitcases, and the carryout breakfast they’d purchased to eat on the train. People looked askance at them as they wandered in bewilderment up and down the aisle looking for seats 101-105 on a car that only went up to seat number 95.

Eventually, the four found unreserved seats in another car, and settled in for the three hour journey, in which they started taking notes for these very travel logs.

Cori and Alicia on the train to Venice.


Kari and Danielle on the train to Venice.


The train took them directly to the Venice train station, but their hotel was actually twenty minutes outside of Venice, on the mainland. The Venice train station is on solid ground, but as you may know, the rest of Venice is not. They peeked out the main doors of the train station, and there was Venice, in all of its rainy glory—for the rain in Rome had followed them to Venice. Despite the rain, it was still lovely in a Romantic poet sort of way. Danielle imagined Byron musing on the rainy skies over Venice, and found that odd, because Danielle does not even like Byron. After taking in the view, they waited for the train to take them to their hotel, which was in a small town outside of Venice. Alicia’s parents paid for the hotel as a part of Alicia’s birthday present (for which Alicia’s three friends feel immensely grateful). The hotel was nice in a hotel kind of way, and they rested for only a few minutes before heading out once more for Venice, despite the rain and their weary feet. They stopped in a little diner nearby for lunch (it was nearly 3:00 pm) for they were famished and fainting from lack of sustenance.

Upon returning to Venice, they needed to make a rather difficult decision: which vaperetto tickets to buy. Perhaps you scorn. Perhaps you say: “Pssh Posh.” Perhaps you say: “What’s a vaperetto?” A vaperetto is the “bus” system in Venice—there are no actual automobiles in Venice: it's a bus boat. There is no other way to get around, other than walking or taking a Gondolier. You don’t hire a gondolier to get around for ordinary traffic—you take a vaperetto. And, because Venice is essentially a giant tourist trap, waiting to take all of your money, the vaperetto is remarkably, incredibly, exorbitantly expensive. After deciding to sell their future first-born children to the city of Venice in order to be able to pay for the 36 hour vaperetto pass, the four women lined up to purchase the pass from the vendor.

In this photograph, Danielle, Alicia, and Kari are looking at the vaperetto sign, and pondering: "How badly do we really want to ride the vaperetto? Is it possible to just walk, rather than selling our future first born children?"


The automatic machine did not work, and Danielle informed the man of this problem.

“I am better than machine.” He told her with a wink.

When Kari went, she asked him where they could catch the Number 1. He told her “You want #1, you come to me.”

Apparently, he has been working on his English.

It was still cold and rainy, and they huddled in the vaperetto shelter, waiting for it to arrive. Of course, by the way, they huddled in the wrong shelter for fifteen minutes before realizing that they were in the wrong shelter. Eventually, they found the correct one, and the correct vaperetto. The plan was to ride the vaperetto all the way up the Grand Canal to take in the view of Venice, first. Venice was crying—hopefully not because of their arrival—but, as stated, it was lovely in that dreary, poetic sort of way that inspires the Anne of Green Gables of the world to write poetry or re-enact “The Lady of Shalott.”

They took the vaperetto to nearly the end of the line, just past St. Mark’s Basilica, and then decided to walk around. Rick Steves told them that the most remarkable sight of Venice was Venice. Rick Steves, once again, was correct: Venice is indeed the most remarkable sight of Venice. As evening came on, and the rain drizzled down upon them, the lights of the small streets cast a comforting warm glow on the whole scene. Someone in the group suggested that they “follow the warm glow” as the guide for which streets to explore, and so they did—drifting down side streets and up alleyways, guided by the streets with the warmest glows. It was a perfect way to explore Venice, and their meanderings led them to St. Mark’s square—which was practically empty because of the rain, past tiny cafes closing up for the slow tourist night, to dead ends that emptied into side canals, up and over countless bridges and walkways, guided entirely by the glow.

Rain and pedestrians in Venice.


Views from the vaperetto ride down the Grand Canal.






A wet piazza.


Follow the Warm Glow!


For some reason, when Cori walked over a bridge, someone suggested that Cori needed a bridge song. So, every time Cori walked over a bridge, she “tooted” Pomp and Circumstance. Every single bridge that they crossed in Venice.

Every single bridge.

There are many bridges in Venice.

Once again, they attempted to find a place to eat that did not exist, or which existed in some parallel universe of the author of the guidebook, and they ended up walking and walking for miles and miles, as they had in Rome. At long last, they settled on a little place that looked welcoming, if not quite the example of the nightlife or youth culture one might want in Venice. They settled into their seats, foot-weary after a long cold day of walking in drizzling rain. The restaurant was mostly staffed by international waiters—there didn’t seem to be any Italian employees, although the restaurant served delicious Italian food. They spoke some English, but there were a few translation difficulties.

At the end of the meal, over dessert, the main waiter approached our table. This was just after he got excited about Danielle’s t-shirt—she was wearing a Dakar Academy shirt, and he probably thought it said “Dkaka”—he looked like he could be from Bangladesh (sometimes mail sent to Dakar ends up in Dkaka). He set his tray down, and crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them. He gestured to the group, but began to address Cori.

“You make take this as insult, or you may take this as compliment.” He began. We all looked at him with interest. “But, you look like…Dazed and Amazed.” He told Cori. Cori started.

“Me?” She asked, in confusion.

“Yes, Yes. All the others, they are looking wide awake, they are looking like alert. But, you, you are dazed and amazed. Dazed and Amazed.”

At this point, Kari and Danielle were struggling to hold in their bubbling laughter, and the waiter made his exit, fortunately. The four women spent the next couple of minute laughing so hard, but unable to laugh out loud, because they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves, or embarrass the waiter. The man must have realized that the four friends didn’t quite take his comment as he may have intended (how is one to take that comment?) and he avoided them ‘til they finally made eye contact long enough to ask for the check.

For the rest of the night, as they made their way back to the train station, and back to the hotel, they quoted the waiter to Cori: “You look like…dazed and amazed. Dazed and Amazed. Dazed and Amazed.”

They crawled into their beds, each one of them feeling dazed and amazed after another long day of tourism. As much as they had enjoyed Italy, Rome, Venice, Pasta, Espressos, and each others company, they were really ready to get home to the ordinary, humdrum dullness of everyday life. Vacation had begun to take its toll. Fortunately, they were going home very soon.