Madonna had it right: "Time goes by....so slowly"

7 weeks.  49 days. 1176 hours.  70,560 minutes. 4233600 seconds.  Can you tell I have time to contemplate? 

For some reason, turning that into a song would not going over as well as the cast of Rent pulled off with their Seasons of Love.

Sorry I get sidetracked.  The first order of business is writing about future plans.  

Next destination: Mole National Park

Form of transportation: Mysterious OSA bus (that we have failed to find the location of in Ho)

Intended departure: Early Monday morning (September 27^th)

Intended return: Unknown

The second order or business is to write about future plans for when I return home.  Craig’s list has been my recruiter for jobs when I return to the states.  I put no restrictions of the occupation: bagel baker, hotel attendant, or substitute teacher.  You name it, and I am applying to work there.  Too bad I do not have bagel baking experience.

Back to the present, and the days developed a simple routine.  As of late, I find joy in alliteration.  Thus, I can sum up my days with 3 R’s: running, reading, and rationing with children.  Running is self-explanatory (this has to work since limping, snail walk, and dragging myself to the stadium do not start with R).  Reading, again, is self-explanatory.  Rationing with children depends on the day.  On a good day, I am explaining characters, setting, and plot or praising them for listening so attentively.  On a bad day, I am either frantically counting down from 10 to regain control, singing “If you are happy and you know it take a seat,” or threatening to take away their treats.  Incidentally, the treats are the melted Starbursts that I hauled all the way from New York.  All in all, each day ends with a question my competency, and lately my sanity due to the influence of Crime and Punishment.  Guess it is time for a new book.         

What are the qualifications to be a pastor again?

So, I had the opportunity to go to dinner with the fellow volunteers and Pastor Eric (the man who is hosting Kat and I).  We headed to the White House.  Not to be confused with America's White House, this white house has a monkey chained up in the back with live entertainment of bats swooping toward you head.  We figured it would be a nice outing before two of the volunteers headed back to Germany. 

Throughout the course of the evening, I had the opportunity to learn more about Pastor Eric.  He had mentioned in his sermons that he was in a terrible car accident that resulted in him being in a coma for a month.  Thus, I tried to spark some conversation by asking for more details about the accident.  Pastor then informed me that he had been in not one, but three tragic car accidents.

In fact, he admitted that during one car accident he had been driving a vehicle holding some 15  people.  The tire on top of the car fell off, and pastor could not avoid it due to his high speed.  After running over the spare tire, the car ended up rolling off the road and into a pole.  When I asked if anyone was injured, I was aghast with his casual answer of "Oh yes, a small child died."  WHAT!  I barely contained my horror, and I couldn't help but ask what happened after.  He recounted that he fled the scene and remained in hiding until his uncle paid off the police.

While he was telling the remaining stories, we learned that he has been in a coma a total of 4 times.  The first coma he was in, he awoke to people nailing his arm into the coffin because they had taken him for dead.  (Yes, we asked if the doctors checked his pulse, but he did not seem to understand our concern that the hospital assumed he was dead without verifying his heart had stopped.)

In the end, we discovered that the qualifications for being a pastor are not limited to convicts, murderers, and sexists.  The sexist part was revealed when Pastor insisted that women do not have the traits necessary to be president, such as toughness and foresight (his words...not mine).

On a side note, today another new volunteer arrived.  I can't quite describe him...maybe another time.