Dirt and Donkeys

OK the pressure is on to have the first blog entry be fabulous: here goes....
So Ive been here for about a week and a half, and i am still having a hard time finding words to describe this place. Poor. Its not poor its insanley poor. and chaotic, with very little structure. Its hot to the point that if the world bank was like heres a million dollars to get rid of some of the trash in town Id choose to take a nap because a lot of the time it is simply too hot to work. And I dont know who at the cia said there might be slavery here because there is slavery, and its very apparent and very real.
With all of that said I am still glad I am here, hopefully to have some sort of impact on this place.
Its bizzare because even when i wake up in the morning i never have that o god where am i? its just like this very normal oh yes i am in my families yard, in a tent, in west africa. and it all feels very normal... Right now Im really struggling with this culturally appropriate bussiness. Its one of the PCs ideas on how we actually help our communies is by integrating. It partially makes sense but at the same time who are we trying to kid. I will never pass as Pulaar, and I also thought part of the PC was to represent America, but we have to hide a lot of the things like smoking and our forbidden calves??? How can you be an agent of change if you are just trying to blend in?
Send jolly ranchers and a bottle of whiskey..... thats supposed to be funny but i cant find the cexclamation point....