the quiet weekdays

i'm currently reading "A Prayer For Owen Meany," by John Irving. this is my 7th book i've read since arriving here. i have discovered, not surprisingly, that most PeaceCorps Volunteers are book lovers, or at least become read-a-holics once they're here. we have a couple bookshelves in the PeaceCorps Belize office, fat with wonderous books available for one of my favorite parts of this place: our book exchange. take one, leave one, chat about them, read every one that even slightly entices you. the selection is full of variety- modern fiction and nonfiction, crap romance novels, classics, guide books, and often a few of those "oh! i always wanted to read this!" books. this is not unique to Belize- there is a slightly smaller collection in the PeaceCorps Guatemala lounge, but it's there and we smile when we see it. the whole process of sifting through them, getting recommendations, having waiting lists for the "great ones," passing on your own.... i love it.

i slept in this morning- the rain was so loud i missed my usual 5:30am alarm. but it was nice to sip my coffee slowly and get to the compound right before class. it rains a lot here, and i wear a big cozy fleece on a daily basis (the Director in Belize let me borrow it, as no one comes to Belize expecting to need a fleece).
went to Antigua this afternoon- convinced our language trainer to come to our hookah spot (Gaia) with us. so, our afternoon Spanish session involved apple tobacco and translating Bob Marley's "three little birds." brilliant. after "class," we met some friends in the park and headed back to Dona Luisa's for cafe and raspberry pie. we sat, read, journaled, and enjoyed the peace and coffee in the middle of the open-air courtyard.

back at Gaia once again, i was able to enjoy a silent epiphany while embraced by pillows and wisps of mango smoke:
i have decided that my current thoughts on the definition of "success" involve a life consisting of fairly consistent moments of awe. not only the frequency of these moments, but also how they are cherished, held onto, appreciated. these thoughts are derived from all of the moments of wonder that i've had here thus far.
as a group, we discussed the concept of different realities- something you often pontificate while living in a third world country. i used to think in terms of varying realities, but now i've come to see it more as varying perspectives in this one reality, on this one planet. i could be in the States right now, working a 9-5, doing "what one does" there, living the "typical" post-college American Dream. that wouldn't be an alternate reality, but definitely a different way to experience reality. which is deinitely NOT to say that my current chapter in life doesn't often feel unreal, because it quite often does.

the lights went out tonight at the end of supper. while i had been eating my meal of beans, eggs, and tortillas, the kids sat upon the rust and mustard-colored tiles, tossing Belizean coins i had given them into a small ceramic pitcher. the Senora went to find candles as i cleared my plate and mug in the darkness.