"Do not go where the path may lead..."

I spent so much time trying to get the ball rolling on so many projects- over a year developing relationships and planning this women's group, almost 6 months fundraising and preparing construction for latrines round 2, and 3 months discussing and scheduling the Ultimate team with my kids. Now, all of a sudden, the gravitational forces acting on the earth have shifted and all three projects are happening! Instead of trying to defeat inertia I now find myself trying to juggle all of my projects at once- and I love it. I am, after all, still a stage manager who knows how to multi-task like a boss. Let's talk latrines first, since they are my primary project. On August 11 th , I got confirmation that I was going to be fully funded. On August 28 th , that money was in my account and on September 18 th , I paid for the materials for the first 5 latrines. Materials arrived on Monday, September 23 rd , kept arriving Tuesday, September 24 th , and because a rainstorm took out ...

I got home from Congreso General on Sunday afternoon and fought a losing battle to clean my house, do laundry, eat dinner, bathe, call my family, and prep for the next day. Less than 5 hours of sleep, underscored by blaring accordion music, after a long day in the sweltering heat sitting on benches results in something that feels like a hangover, although no alcohol was involved. (Making it even worse.) I went to sleep Sunday night as soon as I could, which might have been mid conversation with my parents. ‘Djabawera! Djabawera!’ I heard someone calling me from outside my house and I groaned a response that was something like ‘Que?’ mixed with ‘Mehh…’ ‘Djabawera, I am going to bathe then I am going to come back so we can talk!’ I looked at my clock. 5:37AM. Mehh. I rolled over and told myself to get up in 5 minutes. 20 minutes later, Victor was back, with 2 other guys, waiting for me on my porch. I hurriedly rolled out of bed and tried to wrangle my hair while putt...

First of all, what it is... The Comarca decided they were unhappy with their current Casique (the tribal leader of the reservation) so they asked/forced him to resign, and chose to elect another. There was much disagreement about which community would host the election, and 2 congresos were planned. One for Marranganti, where the old government said they were going, and one in El Salto, where the majority of the community leaders wanted to go. My community attended the one in El Salto, so I did too. How the Embera Vote- They call an election, see who shows up, and then pick candidates from those present to run for Casique. Then all of those not running for Casique get in line behind their candidate to vote for him. (It could be a her, I guess, but let’s face it, that’s not going to happen for awhile.) The candidate with the most people in line wins. I guess they don’t have to worry about hanging chads I suppose. Things They Did WELL- *Well-decorated meeting hall. T...

No really, I am awesome. Lots of people say, 'I'm awesome' as a joke or in sarcasm, particularly when they have done something clumsy or dumb. Admittedly, I did that too. Still do sometimes. But somewhere along the way, I actually started to believe it, and that felt good. So I ran with it, and other people started to believe it too. Now, the fact that 'Amber Naylor is awesome' is just that, a fact. It is not an opinion nor is it subject for debate. I'm awesome. In other words, my bucket is full. Mi tanque es lleno, pues. Nearly every Peace Corps workshop and seminar begins with the Bucket Theory. I've mentioned this before. The Bucket Theory is this: each person has within them an invisible bucket that is directly related to how they feel. When our buckets are full, we feel happy, fulfilled, and valued. When our buckets are empty, we feel sad, depressed, and worthless. Our buckets get filled and emptied by things people say or do. Gratitude, compli...

I might have snapped that in exasperation and disappointment when Plans C, D, and E all failed me, trying to watch the Nebraska Husker football game a few weeks ago. It was the end of the third quarter, and the Huskers had a pretty cushy lead over Southern Miss, so many could argue that the game was over anyway. But the score was not the point. I was born a Husker fan. No literally. Almost every memory I have of my grandfather is of him watching Husker games in his basement on VHS tapes- it was too stressful for him to watch the games live, he would always tape them, find out the final score, then watch them. He was afraid of having a football induced heart attack. The walls of the basement were lined with years and years- maybe decades- of Husker games. When my little brother was born at nearly 10 lbs, everyone in the family dreamed he would be a linebacker for the Huskers. I can't tell you the number of fall weddings I have attended that were either scheduled on ...