Africa

The wild dogs cry out in the night
As they grow restless longing for some solitary company
I know that I must do what's right
Sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti
I seek to cure what's deep inside, frightened of this thing that I've become

Pure poetry. Those of you unfamiliar with the music and lyrics of 1980s-era supergroup Toto may find the above lines to be thoroughly incomprehensible. Those of you who know Toto well may still feel the same way. What I am trying to say, my friends, is that I, Dale Kiefer, am heading to Africa.

I have accepted a 27 month assignment with the Peace Corps in Zambia where I will be working on an aquaculture project in a small rural village. I know not what else awaits me, in large part, but I do know that my future home will be made of earth and that I will have no electricity or running water, (who's the harshest continent now, Raytheon?) for most of the time that I am there.

I am leaving Ohio in two weeks, but should have access to the Internet occasionally over the next two years. So everyone should start using and reading this blog (I realize now that I am preaching to the born-agains), so that every now and then we can all have some idea about what at least some of us are doing.

And just to let you know, in reference to Katie's post, I have been to many different kinds of bars. Normally the dives I frequent are full of working-class people in their forties and fifties--the parents of those rowdy John Cougar Mellencamp wannabees. They are usually too burdened by their money troubles and alcoholism to sing, scream, and pound their fists on the bar. That's why Katie made reference to my reaction. I don't want any of you to think that I only go to hipster bars with Belle and/or Sebastian.

Stay Real.