Irony

Its official, I am allergic to bees.

Ironic, after about 75 stings during my first three months that all lead to no reaction. But yesterday they pricked my arm with only a 10 cc mixture of venom and it swelled and my face got hot. I am now allergic.

This means that I will no longer be a beekeeping volunteer down here, and will likely join the agriculture group. Luckily I know them all pretty well and am pretty amped about promoting green manures, gardens, and crop partnerings, so its not too sad. I will also move sites, to one where there are fewer bees and closer to a hospital. No sure news on where-abouts yet, but I will likely hear everything on Monday when my boss returns from vacation.

Its going to be sad to leave my community. Peace Corps will take good care of me and provide a car to take me down and gather all my things. I currently am working on my vocabulary to explain that I will not be there for a while. Not sure I can tell my sweet host dad over the phone that I will actually never live there again.

But despite the bump in the road. I do realize the irony of my situation, and the comedic nature of it all. And in the mean time I have gotten to live in a hotel (its not as great as it seems), eat salad, meet a lot of people from other training groups, and most of all, have gotten ready mentally to begin what I hope will be an excellent service.

I'll let you all know what's happening when I know more.