training has begun! (i.e. one more reason why my updates are infrequent, irresponsible)

I have been consumed by a flurry of activity since late May. Well, make that late June 2006. But the most recent barrage started just over a month ago in Nouakchott.

In February, I applied for the position of Environmental Education Training Coordinator. A few short weeks later, my program director unceremoniously selected me for the position.¹ Despite the incredible workload that is Training Coordination (yeah, it deserves scare caps), we started four short weeks before the arrival of trainees. In late May, all the program coordinators² converged in the capital city for a quick as lightning debriefing and a "hope you remember your training from two years ago" encouragement pat. In under a week, we were shipped down to Rosso (along the river just before you cross into Senegal) and thrust into a summer of labor.

We did indeed remember our training, but enduring training (or rejoicing in it, as the case might have been) and coordinating training are two very different animals. As much as I paid attention, as a trainee I was painfully unaware that my Coordinator was toiling behind the scenes, pulling late nights, and scrambling to pull together sessions. Not to mention the "training of trainers" workshops, negotiating calendars, and prepping the training center before I even touched down in Mauritania. How did they ever have enough energy to be excited for my arrival??

While furiously coordinating the Welcoming Committee (WC)³ on the ground in Rosso, I worried I'd not have any ATP (c'mon 7th grade science) to spare for a smile or a handshake. But when the WC head arrived with buses full of wide-eyed trainees, a king sized bed at the Marriott wouldn't have lured me away. They were overwhelmed; we were thrilled; it was spectacular. And, as last year, with the largest trainee group to date (77, up from 72 last year) and a brand new training center, the WC was an unrivaled success. Better even than last year, due largely to my veteran status and the fabulous team of volunteers helping me with everything from sign making to envelope sealing.I had more than enough energy to smile; I was literally bouncing off walls, fixing logistical nightmares, and problem solving like a champion consultant. So much, that several trainees asked if I were the Director of Training (i.e. the top rung of PC RIM Staging). Although the promotion would have been welcome, I admitted, "I'm actually just a Training Coordinator." The truth dulled my sheen a bit, but the trainees still knew me as bubbly, responsible, and prone to make announcements before dinner.

We are now almost a week into training. I have since removed my Welcoming Committee hat and am focusing exclusively (finally!) on my sector. What, you might ask, does an EE coordinator do? I...

• poured through four to five years of training summaries and phase reports;
• sifted through dusty and mildewed boxes of mutilated training manuals, handouts and books;
• organized the new EE sector office and library;
• developed competencies and sector learning objectives;
• revamped the EE training manual (everything from formatting to content);
• create sessions (like interactive lesson plans), teaching tools, field trips and activities;
• coordinate scheduling with six other sectors plus Medical, Safety and Security, Cross Culture, and general Administration;
• program trainee-directed activities that require close coordination Agfo;
• interview trainees and negotiate site placement with my Program Director;
• arrange logistics and transportation for trainees, meals, and equipment;
• ensure (with Homestay Coordinator) the safety, linguistic support, and garden proximity of EE host family placements;
• tend a garden for technical demonstration (in 99% clay soil, mind you);
• evaluate the technical, cultural, and professional progress of all trainees (not just my own);
• provide technical and personal guidance to all trainees at (what has turned out to be) all hours of the night;
• wear a positive face for EE, Mauritania, and Peace Corps in general;
• and essentially guarantee the ten-week transformation of a batch of green trainees into productive, happy volunteers.

It's a heavy burden, if taken seriously. Luckily, I have Keita Diawaye, the EE Assistant Coordinator. Initially, I doubted his ability to assist or even contribute. He was behind the scenes during my training, so much that I barely saw or knew him. After having worked with him one short week, however, I am floored. I do not exaggerate when I say he is royalty in Rosso: known and respected by everyone, unable to walk five paces without greeting someone influential, and extraordinarily efficient. Keita has invited guest speakers, scheduled meetings with hard-to-reach teachers, purchased supplies, secured classroom locations, and even negotiated for me a new cell phone. All effortlessly. He is as amazing as I am lucky to have him.

I'm sure the bulleted list above will expand as I learn of and take on extra responsibilities. But after all the pre-training bureaucracy, I am relieved (and rejuvenated!) to be in front of our trainees, doing what I love: teaching. They are so eager, participatory, curious, driven, experienced, flexible and positive - simply meters and yards beyond my class and the class before them. I chalk it up to bad economics at home, rising unemployment rates, falling dollars. Peace Corps obviously has the luxury to be selective with an expanding pool of trainee applications. I'll try to remember, as I lament my lamed stock portfolio, that this is the best class Mauritania has ever seen and she will be better for it.

---

1:Unceremonious since I was, in fact, the only applicant. Regardless, I have anticipated serving as EE Coordinator since the early days of my own training, so the lack of competition did not make it any less sweet. For the record, last year, I was invited to take over training after the Coordinator left early for graduate school, an honor never before given to a first year. Basically, bruised egos aside, I'd like to think, even of a large pool of qualified people, I'd have been selected anyway.

2: As a reminder, Peace Corps Mauritania operates under seven sectors or programs: Agroforestry (Agfo), English Education (ED), Environmental Education (EE), Girls' Education and Empowerment (GEE), Health Education (HE), Information and Computer Technology (ICT) and Small Enterprise Development (SED). The list is in alphabetical order since, obviously, EE is the most crucial and productive sector.

3: The Welcoming Committee is the sunshine-y name we give the team of volunteers who conduct the in-take process for all trainees. This process includes vaccinations; interviews with Medical, Safety and Security, Program Directors and Training Coordinators; distribution of walk-around money, cell phones, Welcome Booklets, phone cards; and the (tedious, liability nightmare of) valuable collection and storage. Last year, I was the Welcoming Committee head and coordinator "on the ground" in Nouakchott. With the biggest trainee group to date and a brand new central office, Welcoming Committee went off without a single hitch. Other than elevated stress levels and perhaps a few years shaved off my life.

needing more time is such a generic wish

And every one wants to become a two. Every two would like a half
that grows to a one. Even if it is snatched off the lawn and distributed
at family functions around the table with mashed potatoes, asparagus,
maybe the desert. It is country style and that one needs to be tasted.
They always do.

-- Vonn Gilmore, featured poet at brainboxpress.com

I am pop-culturally disconnected. Exhibit number one: I only recently saw the critically acclaimed film, Juno. In said film, a teenage girl weathers a darkly comical, strangely beautiful pregnancy with her motley support crew of her straight-shooting father, puppy-obssessed stepmother, stereotypically ditzy cheerleader friend, oddly (and eventually tragically) matched adoptive parents, and adorable, aloof, impregnator slash best friend. The dialogue - like that of many movies and TV shows I enjoy - is too quick and witty to be realistic. The pace, however, of this often hilarious, sometimes poignant banter is justified. It succeeds in revealing the lighter side of teenage pregnancy, dicsipline, angst, and love.

After watching Juno, it's tough not to be charmed by the idea of carrying life and ultimately giving it to a couple who could not create "a half" themselves. And, perhaps unintentionally, this solidly soundtracked film suggests that keeping a new pink bundle might be ... [insert adjective encompassing fun, fulfilling, and not entirely farfetched].

Which returns me neatly to the title of this post: with what time? So many of us are consumed with the hilarious and poignant pace of our own lives, that creating and caring for another seems beyond reasonable. And chronologically more pressing is the troublesome process of "becoming two." Usually coupledom is a prerequisite for bringing halves to family picnics for cheek pinching and asparagus.

Ticking clocks notwithstanding, I appreciate Gilmore's stance that we all are (or should be) completed "ones" looking for another whole unit. I never bought into the whole "finding a better half" mentality. Nor do I subscribe to a destined "one," a la Prince Charming to find my abandoned shower sandal and sweep me off my calloused feet. Frankly, I'd prefer a tic-tac-loving, track-running, awkward best friend. Here's to the Junos out there: making happy mistakes and finding unlikely happy endings.

On my way to media stardom

Three days ago, I was interviewed by a Mauritanian radio station during "Rosso Day" (an event designed to familiarize locals with Peace Corps presence, goals, etc.). I spoke on our new Peace Corps training center in Rosso and on integrating environmental education (EE) into the national curriculum. Luckily I had an especially articulate French day: they aired my linguistic acrobatics twice.

Then, today, while doing research for my EE training sessions, I stumbled upon this June 13th news item at globe.gov. Under Near East and North Africa, I'm mentioned by name and quoted at length. Emphasis on length. Either this is a synthesis of several quotes, or I was feeling particularly verbose that day. Eep.

I don't know if these are just steps on the way to international renown or simply quotes that may eventually be taken out of context during some electoral or application process. Let's assume the former?