Like when I became a vegetarian, only different...

So anyway, I know you guys are dying for details over there, as I know I was when I used to read other PCVs' blogs, but I've been struggling to figure out how to communicate all the differences as well as the similarities, because, really, some things aren't that different. There are paved roads here, for instance, and some places have flush toilets. More generally, people still eat regularly here (five times a day!!!!), and they bathe, and work, and wash their clothes. It's just the manner of it that is different. Instead of stepping into a hot shower each morning, I heat up some water in the stove, pour it into a bucket in the tub, and pour bucketfuls over my head to clean myself. Really, it's not that different--you stop noticing it after awhile.

So I came to the conclusion that living in Africa in some ways parallels my decision, four years ago now, to become a vegetarian. From the outside, it looks as though I'm depriving myself, that I'm doing something maybe a little out there, a little crazy. And in the beginning, it did feel like a deprivation to not eat meat: I missed it, I craved it, I thought about eating it. But after awhile, I stopped missing it. And not only that, but something else happened as well: I began to be more satisfied with the choices I was making, foodwise, simply because there were fewer options. Some of my vegetarian friends and I have discussed this, especially with regards to restaurants. Before becoming a vegetarian, I sometimes used to hem and haw about what to get at a restaurant, trying to decide what to order out of many possible things. After I became a vegetarian, I would look for the one or two item I could eat, and then order one of those. And, by and large, I was happy with my choice, happier choosing between two than between twenty.

Living in Africa is the same way for me, so far at least. Options are fewer, but that makes choosing easier. There are fewer things to do here, so playing cards for an afternoon becomes a treat. There is only Laughing Cow cheese in my town, so going to the capital for a pizza is a big deal, and so delicious. I only have five books to read right now, so I enjoy them, because I enjoy reading. It's like that: intangible and satisfying. Now, I'm only hoping that when I get back to the States in two years, I can remember how to do this. I'm hoping I can still be satisfied amidst all the choices.