Swear In Week
September 22nd, 2005 by Sarin
Emotions were running high all through the last week of training. As more than half of us will be moving to different islands, the idea of moving on after sharing the past 9 weeks seeing each other virtually everyday is taunting. We sat through hours of hot language classes, cramped in the back of hiaces doing hairpin turns at high speeds just so we can go to places like Praia or Tarrafal. We spent hours at the “Quiznos” doing nothing but playing cards, and we wasted many days searching for the best pastels. We swapped stories, gathered new ideas, and all encountered the same, ahem, bodily frustrations. In the end, we are the “lucky” group. The group lucky to have a 2 day expense paid layover in Dakar, lucky to get our luggage on time, and the group that definitely marked the beginning of the rainy season.
But first, the activities of Week 9 of PST. To kick the week off, there was the memorable long hike of Pico De Antonio. It was rumored by one of that it was “Oh, it’s about 3 hours there and back”. But I soon found out that those 3 hours were 3 hours of “Jacob Time”. And if you know Jacob, the guy can literally run up sides of mountains. The group consisted of current PCVs Jacob and Cliff, trainees Rebecca, Sarah, Robert “My god, he’s wearing pants” Wharton, and our country director Matthew and his wife. Following us also was Jacob’s dog Boris.
We started early in the morning and started the walk up to Rui Vaz. We got picked up later on to get to the communication tower that would signal the beginning of our hike. We began the first 2 hours just following the path and ignoring the humidity and branches around us. After reaching the base of Antonio the path becomes rocky and very unclear. After seeing sorta Evergreen trees in the distance, I start to worry when they start disappearing. But yet, we continue, sweat filled and all. And then the hike becomes a little tough. At one point, it almost becomes rock climbing, with no real path in front of you. Pretty soon, noon arrives and it’s obvious now that I won’t be home for lunch.
It was probably a good thing that it was cloudy that day. Otherwise as the cliff to the right drops off, you probably don’t want to see all of Assomada if you’re afraid of heights. But we couldn’t see how high up we were so we continued up and up and eventually reached the top. There was a man made block of cement to mark the top and I took a seat. First thing I noticed being about a mile up in the sky… the flies are fucking huge. And it wasn’t even that cold.
We got back down to the comm tower around 4 o clock and us newbies were a mess afterwards. I spent the rest of the ride home sleeping, ate 2 dinners that night and rested my legs for the duration of the evening. I knew it will be the best hike I will have for a while. Probably will not do it again until I find a nice clear day.
Afterwards, the training for the week began and it was mostly final interviews and evaluations. The best thing about last week of training is that you will end up with more free time in the afternoon. For about 3 days though, those afternoons were definitely being spent playing cards. Table after table, we would take over small bars and play cards for hours before dinner. On one of these days, I was at this one bar for 5 straight hours constantly playing cards. I don’t remember if I every played that long ever, or even stayed in any bar for that long yet. But, it only goes to show that you only need to be with your friends to have a good time.
Of most importance at this week was this sort of quickly established card tournament in the game of “13”. It’s really simple to get started and our brackets consisted of 12 players exiting by elimination. After the tournament, the 13 kick virtually died and it’s still a question if it will ever pop back up in our group ever again.
So as most of us were getting ready to leave Sao Domingos directly after Swear-In (for flight reservations), we decided to hang out one last time on that Thursday before. It was also a good time because we had a PST talent show planned earlier that evening that loosened our spirits. At the party, I downed a bottle of cheap wine and threw a couple of beers back. Surprisingly my alcohol tolerance had come back to me after previous weeks of abstaining. It was a pretty colorful night and it was finally time to see other trainees “warm and fuzzy” like I hadn’t seen them before. As I walked home around 3am, I found it strangely odd how I can’t remember that last time I walked home so late on a Thursday night.
Swear-in was exactly as I expected it to be: Hot. I looked at my dress shirt after the ceremony and the collar was a very dark brown, absorbing all the African dirt and sweat hiding on the back of neck. After I saw that, I took another shower. But back at the ceremony, the festa after the ceremony was the last time that all 26 of us were together before departing. All the volunteers from the island showed up as well and it was quite a turnout. However the bus to go to Praia was to leave and gone were the off-island volunteers. For those on-island we were left to party with the locals at the Sao Nicolau local holiday.
Your Newest Sworn In Volunteer for Peace Corps/Cape Verde, Sarin Va
That Saturday, I slept in during mass till about noon. I packed for 2 hours and congratulated myself when my host mom asked me to have a beer. Many family members came by later and then I hoped that my 9 weeks of criolu had better be good with a couple of beers. I got to bed early that evening so I can get a head start on moving the next day.
The next morning, I felt empty. I didn’t how I felt leaving such a comfortable host family situation. My mother made awesome food, taught me Cape Verdean chores and showed me off as I was just another son. I had everything handed to me so I can have a pleasurable training experience, and now it was time to go. There was nothing left for me in Sao Domingos, all the trainees left for the sites already and I was almost overstaying my welcome.
It rained that morning. I sat and waited for my hiace to come and move me to site. I later find out that Cape Verdeans have a hard time saying goodbye or don’t want to acknowledge the fact that you’re leaving. So I waited, and examined the neutral faces of my host family while enjoying the peace of the rain that was making this goodbye longer than it should.
Sayonara, PST. And Sao Domingos for that matter too.
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