One question that keeps popping into my head is “why?” Why are things the way they are? As I sit here typing this in my room in Mali I can’t help but shudder at the flood of bugs that manage to get into my room despite the screening I put up to complement my concrete walls. There’s a large part of me that would wish for nothing more than to be back home sitting on a couch watching sports on TV with a couple of buddies drinking some ice, cold beer eating some wings or whatever the hell else I want to eat. But for all of its modern conveniences America also has its negatives. As Americans we’re always moving so fast that we forget to just BE sometimes. We as a society are defined by our actions, not who we are as a people. It’s always a question of “what have you done for me lately?” I’ve learned to slow down here. I’ve learned to just be. And yet every fiber in me screams out telling me that I need to be constantly be doing something. Maybe that’s just a defensive mechanism so that I don’t go crazy, so whether I like it or not I always AM doing something be it hanging out with people, thinking about how to help my groups, or doing some reading. It’s gotten to the point where I need to just set aside some time to veg out. That’s life I guess.