Ngami hunu.

I am here.  

As of today I’ve officially been a Peace Corps Volunteer for one month. Perhaps the biggest learning curve has been accepting that my simple presence is enough. And beyond that, that I am enough. 

Before, in my life, I would cope with my people pleasing, you need to be the best anxiety by quantifying whatever task or goal that was in front of me into some measurable form of success, and then going one step past that. If I succeeded in doing that, then I felt great about myself. I would have no problem being confident, warding away negative thoughts, and avoid comparing myself to others. However, now in my present reality, there is absolutely no feasible way to create a quantifiable measure of success. This has been incredibly challenging for me. 

I’ve learned to hang on to the moments that remind me that my presence is enough. Like when I got back from a walk today and said I was going to relax in the kitchen, and my Koko (grandmother) said “yes come relax, we will cook together” – even though I do none of the cooking and we mostly just sit in silence. Or when I go for my walks and people I’ve never met before know my name – this reminds me that I have made it known – I am here! 

I taught my first two English clubs this past week, and on the second day 45 people from my village came to learn. This was incredibly humbling and made my love for my village, my new home, grow even larger. I can’t thank all of them enough for making me feel not only welcome, but wanted, here. 

I am constantly having thoughts of self doubt that I am not doing enough or being enough – what that enough is I don’t know, which invalidates those thoughts on it’s own – but remembering and holding tight and close to my heart events like the above experiences are the key to not only surviving, but also thriving in these next two years. 

Each day and week I feel as though I’m faced with a new challenge: struggling with patience, worrying too much about others’ approval, comparing myself to other volunteers, doubting my abilities, having anxiety about leaving the house and interacting with more than just my host family – the list goes on. However, each of these challenges is not unfamiliar to me; I’ve dealt with these struggles innate to my inner world during other times and situations in my life. Now my circumstances simply provide a starker backdrop to reveal them and more time to reflect on them. 

Thus begins my journey of learning more about the aspects of myself that are deeply rooted in who I am, that don’t change no matter where I am in the world. I am continually amazed that I am having the opportunity to learn SO much about the world and myself at such a young age. One thing I’ve become sure of in the past 3 months: Comoros is the best and only place I’d want to be for this to happen. 

Shahula Udjepva Swafi!!!

This post’s title means “Food is delicious!!!” It took me awhile to feel this way about the food in Comoros but I can finally truthfully say that I am a big fan of Comoran food.

I think the key to a successful Peace Corps service is to tell your village what your favorite food is as soon as you possibly can, like maybe within the first greeting or introduction if it’s possible – just some advice from a novice volunteer. My counterpart made sure that my entire village was well aware kuskuma is one of my favorite foods, and because of this three different people have already cooked me my own piles of kuskuma. This hospitality and thoughtfulness has greatly helped me feel more comfortable in my new home. Kuskuma is essentially dough fried flat with oil and butter. Normally it’s eaten with chicken or beef in a red sauce, but I also tried it with my own stash of Nutella and peanut butter which were both equally delicious.

A close second, as far as my favorite foods go, is mabawa, also known as chicken wings. Let me tell you Comorans know how to make some GOOD chicken wings. These are the common street food and it’s normal to see someone grilling mabawa right outside their house or little shop. It’s always a good night when I see we are having mabawa for dinner.

Perhaps the most important food of all is madaba, or cooked cassava leaves. The process for making madaba is intense. The first step is ripping all of the madaba leaves off of the stem (this is the only part I have ever been allowed to help with). The second step is to place all of the leaves into a wooden stand and then pound them into mush with a large stick. (I have attempted to help with this but my arms always get tired after about 30 seconds of pounding). The third step is to mix in garlic and other spices to season the leaves. Fourth, the cassava leave mixture is cooked in boiling coconut milk. Finally it is placed over rice that also cooked with coconut milk. The end result is my absolute favorite way to eat rice. Madaba is savory and so delicious, as well as very nutritious – you just need to make sure it’s cooked all the way, otherwise it’s poisonous!

Comoran food is delicious, but my favorite part about it is the setting in which it is eaten. The majority of the time meals are eaten communally, out of a large shared tray. When I am sitting around one of these trays with a group of women or with my sisters I start to feel like I am truly a part of the community. Tonight I observed a group of children between the ages of 2 and 8 crowded around a tray of rice and chicken and there was beauty in the way they all shared the food. And it was so impressive to see a three year old that already knew how to get every last bit of chicken off of the bone. The togetherness that surrounds eating in Comoros represents the greater feeling of community and family that is woven throughout this culture, and I am so happy to be able to be a part of it.

Ngamina Nafasi

This means “I have time” which could not be more true now that I have completed training. I do not think I have ever had this much completely unstructured free time in my life, and let me tell you it is quite the adjustment. 

On August 15th I was sworn in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer which is incredible for more than one reason. The Swear-In Ceremony marked the end of Pre-Service Training and the beginning of my actual service in Comoros. Being a Peace Corps Volunteer has always been something that I thought about; before it always seemed like a really cool, if abstract thing. And know I am actually a Peace Corps Volunteer. It is hard to explain exactly how awesome this feels, but generally I feel like I am truly LIVING my life and I feel engaged, determined, and excited.

The Swear-In Ceremony took place at the Hotel Retaj in Moroni. While of course our American families could not be in attendance, most of group 4’s Mvouni host families came to show their support which was such a special feeling. The event started with a traditional Comoran dance by some of the members of group 4 and it gave me chills watching that cultural exchange take place. I was honored to have the opportunity, along with two other group 4 members, Nandi and Tyler, to give a speech in the local language of our prospective islands. This was by far one of the most incredible things I have ever had the opportunity to do; it felt so empowering to public speak in Shingazidja and have the audience understand and applaud. It is something I will be very proud of for a long time. We were officially sworn in by the US Ambassador to Madagascar and the Comoros by taking the Oath of Service. I will remember that moment for a long time because I felt the culmination of all the work that went into this goal, and then I felt it finally being accomplished – a feeling that was amazing and so satisfying. 

Now I have been living in my new village, my new home, for a week and I want to share some of my experiences and thoughts with you all. First and foremost I am continuously in awe of the kindness of my host family and neighbors. Yesterday, my Mama told me how much everyone loves me, going through each family member and saying “ye hwandza” which means he/she loves. I have also had the opportunity to walk around my village with my counterpart which has led to me learning so much. These are the times when I feel the most productive in learning about my community, but I have also learned that even the less active times – when I am just sitting in the kitchen with my sister or watching TV in the living room – are also very important. I have found that presence is what leads to the opportunity to integrate; integration being a rather abstract task. Of integration, I have learned that it is definitely a situation of quality over quantity. I am learning to appreciate the quality of even the small interactions I have in Shingazidja or the little moments where I am actually allowed to do something in the kitchen. (It is okay that they don’t let me help that much though because my sister is an AMAZING cook she works some dang magic in the kitchen).

Oftentimes I forget that the country I am now living in is so small and so unheard of by the rest of the world because this place and its people have become so relevant to me. Some of the things I love the most about Comoros and my new village are the views from the mountains and the hills, being able to see the Indian Ocean spread before me every day, eating from a communal plate with my siblings each evening, hearing kids happily playing together in the street, weather that makes it possible for me to sit on my gorgeous front porch all year round, the many greetings people exchange every time they see each other, that it is acceptable to drop by a neighbors for an unplanned visit at any time, starting the day with the sunrise and ending it early with the sunset, my walk to my school on a quiet path surrounded by trees, my host Mama coming home and always saying “Danielle Mwandzani!” (Danielle my friend). This list could go on, but when one of my neighbors kindly and seriously welcomed me the other day saying “This is your second home” I felt a sense of relief that I do not have to leave this place any time soon.

Mi UYENGA Puhu!!!!

This means “I hate rats!!!!” Which has become a more real sentiment than I ever thought it would, mostly because they terrorize my room nearly every night, have eaten my favorite tank top and perhaps worst of all is this story: The other day I got to training and unzipped my backpack in order to get out my bag of peanuts. I noticed there was a huge hole in the bag and so I was like oh shoot a rat must have gotten to these! The next second a rat was flying out of my backpack, onto my hand, and off into the grass. Which means that I unknowingly carried a live rat in my backpack for about 20 minutes. So yes, I HATE puhu.

Somehow our two and a half months of Pre Service Training are coming to a close. The speed with which these months have passed is, I assume, a snapshot on how quickly two years will seem to fly by. (But I’ll get back you about that once I survive my first three months at site.)

For the first time since training started we were able to spend an entire day in Moroni, the capital city, all on our own. I love Moroni; it is such a cool place with vibes that I am going to attempt to explain here, but probably won’t do it justice. The first thing to note about Moroni is the people. Every time I have been in Moroni, even if just briefly, I have experienced the kindness of strangers. In a previous post I talked about the woman who helped Ryanne and I hail a cab, and this time in Moroni we had a man offer to walk us all the way to a different part of the city in order to ensure we would not get lost. When I think about the other cities I have spent time in, Moroni truly stands out as a safe and inviting place, if not also a loud and excited one. The second distinguishing aspect of Moroni is its size. As is every aspect of these islands, Moroni is very small, but I find this really endearing. In just one day I was able to figure out how to navigate a majority of the city; I can’t wait until I know Moroni like the back of my hand.

Volo Volo is the main, large market in Moroni. You can find essentially anything you might need there and then some. When I walked through the market I felt a wave of emotion pass over me because it is truly an incredible place. If you close your eyes for a second the sounds of hundreds of different conversations passes over you like a wave. All around you are different colors; various beans and spices in canvas bags, fruits and vegetables, women in colorful dresses. I have never been anywhere like Volo Volo in my life and it is a truly vibrant and alive place. As Ryanne and I walked through the market people would shout “Wazungu karibu” which is essentially “White people welcome” because they would want us to come shop at their stand. Something funny that happens to me a lot while shopping is Comoran’s will use French numbers to tell me how much something costs, but me, knowing essentially zero French, will say “Samahani shingazidja” and the Comoran will be so shocked, but also (at least I like to think this) very pleased that I understand their language. As you might imagine, shopping can be a sensory overload with the combination of French, Shingazidja, and math involved.

Like I mentioned earlier, I find it absurd how quickly these few months of training passed. I think this speaks to the incredible ability human beings have to adapt to their circumstances. I have seen this in the way I already feel like I have known the other members of my Peace Corps group, and even the current volunteers, for a much longer span of time. These people are very much so a part of my world now and I find it really cool that something like this is what brought us all together. Within my adaptation has also come a greater self-awareness. Even though I’ve only completed a small portion of my 27 months here, I feel as though I have already learned some important life lessons, or rather things I abstractly knew have now been pulled to the forefront of my mind and beliefs. One of the most significant lessons is perhaps the importance of remembering that life is a comedy. There have been so many challenging, awkward, confusing, uncomfortable situations that I have already lived through, and they had the potential to really negatively affect my perception of my service. But I have learned that laughing about the absurdity of these things is crucial to staying positive and my overall survival. (EX: I carried a flippin live rat in my backpack how can you not laugh at that???)

Mwaha Mema Waho!!!

This week’s title means Happy Birthday to you!!! Which is fitting because the 19th was my birthday, the first of at least two that I will celebrate in Comoros!

My birthday fell during an exciting week; we received our permanent site assignments, met our counterparts, and actually went to visit our sites for the weekend! Before I get started talking about all of these things I will define few Peace Corps terms. Firstly, our permanent site means the village we will be living and teaching in for the next two years. Secondly, counterpart means the teacher from our village that will work with and mentor us in partnership with the Peace Corps. They are the first resource volunteers will go to when seeking assistance in teaching or in starting other projects in their villages.

As you can imagine there is a lot of nervousness and anticipation surrounding site assignments because your site defines the next two years of your service. Because of this, I can confidently say Tuesday July 17th was the most exciting day of PST so far. In order to reveal our sites there was a small ceremony where we stood on maps of each island on the location of each of our villages, then our counterpart came and stood with us. For confidentiality and safety purposes I am not going to disclose the exact name of my village, but it is on the east side of Ngazidja, halfway up Mount Karthala.

*Slight intermission from site assignment information*

On Thursday I celebrated my first birthday in Comoros and I felt so loved and supported by all of the new people I have met here, as well as by many people back home. It was an emotional day because celebrating my birthday away from my family and friends in America was difficult; however it was also a very happy day because I was able to eat pizza, and have a room full of Comorians and Americans sing happy birthday to me in Shingazidja! I also got my own birthday cake courtesy of the Peace Corps Staff, and my host Mama gave me a new boubou (dress). At the end of the day I felt prepared to face my first ever visit to my permanent site over the upcoming weekend.

My site visit was an incredible experience and I am feeling very blessed and optimistic about calling this village my new home. My village has a population of around 6,000 people and is comprised of 6 different neighborhoods. Due to its location halfway up the mountain I have an AMAZING view of the Indian Ocean and the coast line of Ngazidja, as well as Mount Karthala rising up behind my house. Also, because I am on the east side of the island I will get to wake up to the most beautiful sunrises I have ever seen over the Indian Ocean every day. My house has a large porch that is ideal for reading and overlooking the ocean, and the window to my bedroom looks out over the porch so I will be able to see the sunrise from my bed each morning. My host family is comprised of Mama and Papa Nafida, 2 younger sisters; Nafida (20) and Naslati (14), and one younger brother; Abdou (8). I already feel so comfortable with my family and I am looking forward to growing close with them over the next two years.

Over the weekend, I spent time cooking with Mama Nafida and Naslati. Or at least I tried to help, but let’s just say my coconut grating skills are not quite up to par. Mama Nafida put my hair into braids on Friday which was a sweet bonding activity. On Saturday morning I left my room and Naslati said something I did not understand and then the next minute I was hiking up the mountain in flip flops collecting firewood with her. I made paper airplanes with my little brother Abdou which he loved, and in the evening all of my siblings and I laid on their bed and took funny photos together. I could go on and on about all of the great moments I had with my host family this weekend, but I’ll keep it to these for now as I am sure I will have many more to share in the future.

During the rest of my visit I walked around the village with my counterpart. He took me to see the school I will be teaching in and I met some of my teacher colleagues as well as the director of the school. I also was able to meet some members of the community’s English Club, and even one of the village Chiefs! In some ways it was overwhelming to receive so much information about my village at once, but in other ways it increased my excitement about living there and calling it my home.

Overall I felt incredibly welcomed by my new village, my host family, the other teachers, my counterpart, and my neighbors. There will undoubtedly be many challenges during the first few months after I move there as I work on integrating, improving my language skills, teach for the first time etc. but I am so thankful to be able to face those challenges in a village as beautiful as this one.

Beramu isi pepeza!!!

This is the first line of the Comorian national anthem, and I believe it roughly translates to something about a waving flag. Other lines of the national anthem talk about a love for each of the islands it is comprised of and the date of independence, July 6^th. This date is super meaningful to me this year because it indicates exactly one full month in country. One month is the longest amount of time that I have ever spent outside of the United States, which I figure is momentous enough to take note of.

I will get to my actual Comoros Independence Day experience in a little bit, but first I must discuss the absolutely incredible day that was July 4^th. Two main things stand out to me from the day: firstly, the food, secondly my clearly heightened patriotism for the United States. Each year the Peace Corps Comoros Country Director hosts a 4^th of July party at her house. All current volunteers and trainees are invited, as well as our language teachers, Peace Corps staff, and even some special guests from the US Embassy in Madagascar. There was a spread of food that nearly brought tears to my eyes. I have never realized how much I truly love the food we eat in America until I went a month without it. There were hamburgers, hot dogs, deviled eggs, macaroni and cheese, pasta salads, potato chips, carrots and hummus, Heinz ketchup, pickles, Oreos, ice cream, pineapple, peanut butter cookies, etc. etc. When I bit into my hamburger my body literally had chills. This meal was a spiritual experience. But beyond the food, my second realization, my new intense patriotism, was a very special part of the day. I have always loved the United States, but after living here for a month I am beginning to realize the incredible, random blessing it is to be born in the US. I am proud to be an American because I love the diversity and freedom of expression and I am thankful to be an American because of the convenience of our lives, the ease of using my passport, and the access I have had to education, healthcare, and more – and all of the above have allowed me to confidently and freely pursue my dreams, an opportunity many around the world, especially women, are not provided with. I am happy to have been able to gain this perspective of my country of birth.

Now onto Comorian Independence Day! This morning (at the bright and early time of 6:45am) I caught a taxi down to Moroni with my friend/host cousin Idris. In Moroni crowds of people were gathered along the side of the road, similarly to any other parade I have experienced. My favorite part of the day was when the national anthem played, and I was able to sing along, knowing about 75% of the words. Seeing an American singing the Comorian national anthem in Shingazidja was very exciting for the children near me, and even a few adults – I am now forever saved singing via video on at least one family’s phone. I was also able to talk to a Comorian university student whose English was incredible. He was able to translate some of the speeches as well as explain some of the military and police groups that were marching in the parade. Two cool things that I saw: The President of Comoros got out of a car only about twenty feet from me and there were female members (though few) of the police and military troops! Attending the Independence Day festivities allowed me to learn even more about Comorian culture and feel as though I was integrating just a little bit more!

Connected to this feeling of integration, completing one month of service has helped me to gradually gain some feelings of normalcy. This is my life now and I am starting to adapt to it. However, I know the next few months will hold more change, more highs, and more lows. In just two weeks I will receive my permanent site assignment and turn 22! In mid-August myself and my fellow Peace Corps trainees will be sworn in as volunteers and we will move to these permanent sites. I am excited and nervous, and I so appreciate the support of everyone who has read this blog.

Tsi djipviwa yapvo nahudjuha!

This post’s title means “It’s nice to meet you!” which is apparently a very American thing to say and Comorians get a kick out of it every time I say it.

This has been a week of cultural experiences and absurd stories, so I will share a few of those with you now.

First: I made my first real Comorian friends! Two university students, Nouraya and Farida stayed at my house last week for their exam week. Nouraya speaks an impressive amount of English and has such high aspirations for herself; it is inspiring. My favorite night was on Tuesday when Idris, a family friend, came over and we were all hanging out while I attempted to study Shingazidja. We were able to laugh and joke with each other through an eclectic mix of Shingazidja, French, and English. This interaction made me feel very happy and optimistic about my ability to build relationships and friendships with Comorians throughout the rest of my service. I will always be very thankful for Nouraya, Farida, and Idris for being my first Comorian friends.

Second: On Saturday my group of Peace Corps Trainees, along with our language instructors went on a field trip to Moroni, the capital of Ngazidja. Moroni is quite the place, buzzing with people, shops, banks, restaurants, and this massive outdoor market called Volo Volo. It was exciting to visit and see that anything I will need in my next two years can be found in Moroni; the question will just be if I am brave enough to go there to get it. At the end of the day we had the opportunity to go to a restaurant just outside the capital that had pizza (!!!!!!). A current Peace Corps volunteer hailed a taxi for my friend Ryanne and I, however there was a miscommunication and 3 minutes into the ride the driver made us get out. So, we would have been stranded on the side of the road in Moroni knowing very little language, if it weren’t for the kind Comorian woman who got out of the cab with us and waited to hail us another one in order to ensure the driver knew our destination. People like this woman make me really love Comorians. Ryanne and I survived, and made it to the restaurant where we ate pizza that I will be probably be dreaming about for the next week.

Third: I got to hold my 4-day old cousin tonight! My host mama’s sister had a baby earlier in the week and we went to go visit him this evening. I sat in a small bedroom with four other Comorian women and the baby, named Wisam (unclear on spelling but pronounced Wee Sam). It was an amazing experience, but as most things are here, it was filled with ups and downs. Ups involved when I could speak enough Shingazidja to tell a joke that made all of the women laugh. Downs were when one of the women would say something to me and I would have absolutely no idea what they said, leaving us in awkward disappointed silence.

Learning to ride all of the up and down waves that come with each cultural interaction I experience is crucial to my success over the next two years. I am looking forward to the experiences of this next week as I will be celebrating both the American Independence Day and the Comorian one, on July 6^th!

Ngamina mbwiri.

The title translates to “I am in a hurry” which is significant for two reasons. Firstly, I cannot pronounce “mbwiri” for the life of me – try it I think it’s impossible for Americans. Secondly, it has been a huge challenge to learn how to be the opposite of in a hurry these past few weeks. Everything here takes a high level of patience. I am still struggling to feel like I have any agency or control over my life as I depend on my host family for all of my meals, for help with doing laundry etc. I need to be patient and know that eventually I will feel at home here, capable of communicating and doing things on my own.

I have officially been in country for 2.5 whole weeks (it feels like it’s been 2.5 months though) so I figured I should let you know a little bit about what I have been doing each day. Right now, I am in Preservice Training, otherwise known as PST, which is nearly three months of intensive training meant to prepare us for 2 years of active service. At the end of PST there is a swearing in ceremony, during which I will go from Peace Corps Trainee to official Peace Corps Volunteer.

PST is intense. A sample schedule of a typical day is as follows: two hours of language class in the morning (Shingazidja for me, as I recently found out I will be staying on the main island, Ngazidja, for the next 2 years!!!), a quick coffee break (yes, Peace Corps is supplying us with coffee thank the good Lord), two hours of TEFL certification class, then lunch break, two more hours of language or perhaps a session on Comorian culture or a session from the Peace Corps Medical Officer. The most Peace Corps thing ever was when we had a medical session on the dangers of malaria. We all had to practice performing a rapid malaria test in class which involved pricking our own fingers to collect a blood sample. Anyways, I am learning a large amount of information from 8am-5pm each day and it is exciting, motivating, and overwhelming all at the same time. Each part of Peace Corps service comes with its unique challenges and I think PST’s will be remaining motivated and intentional with everything that I am learning, while also maintaining patience that soon I will be able to speak the language and effectively teach an English class.

Beyond training sessions, a few other volunteers and I have started a “Running Club” and we go on runs 4 days a week in the mornings before training which has been a great way to start the day! We also hang out a lot at the soccer field which happens to have an amazing view of the capital city Moroni and of the Indian Ocean. Tomorrow we are having a Djosho, also known as picnic, on a beautiful beach about two hours from here. I am so excited because I will get to swim in the Indian Ocean for the first time ever!!!! And also because we are meeting the other Peace Corps Volunteers who are currently stationed on Ngazidja!!

Each week I am continually impressed with the Peace Corps as an organization, and with the Peace Corps Comoros Staff specifically. Being here is not easy, but it is amazing, and I am learning daily that those two things are not mutually exclusive.

Tsi dja, Tsi li, Tsikura

Today’s title means “I came, I ate, I am full.” Which describes how I felt at every Iftar dinner during Ramadan with my host family.

The most important thing that I have learned so far from my time in Comoros is the true complexity of integrating into a new culture. And let me tell you this culture is quite different than what I am used to. Comoros is the country that has been forgotten by the Western world – I did not even know what it was when I first got my Peace Corps invitation. (Although now that you are reading this blog Comoros is becoming a little less forgotten!) I now have a completely new perspective on what international development work should look like, what the difference between traveling and living is, and how large a role culture plays in even the most minute details of everyday life.

In terms of development work: It takes (should take anyways) much effort on the part of the volunteer to learn the ins and outs of a place and its culture before it becomes okay to start implementing a new idea or donating new items. This culturally appropriate type of development is something the Peace Corps does really well, and I am proud to be a part of it.

As far as the difference between traveling and living, I suppose it should have been obvious to me before this that they would be drastically different, but it wasn’t. I am relatively well traveled, having spent short spans of time in a handful of countries, but even though I did take the time to learn the history of these places and pick up some of the language – I never consciously tried to integrate; to give up some of my American expectations to fully adapt to the way of life of the people. And let me tell you folks, now that I am attempting that, it is challenging as heck.

And then my third observation, that culture permeates every single aspect of life is highlighted most clearly by my experiences with my Comorian host family. I am so blessed by my host family – I have a Mama, a little sister (12), and a younger brother (18). My Mama so clearly cares for me and I can see it in the kindness she shows me daily. This welcoming love has helped my transition into living in a totally new place a little bit easier. However, there are several things that have taken some getting used to. For example: taking cold bucket showers, eating unknown fried starchy foods, the complete lack of coffee, doing laundry by hand, and having to use a water filter for my drinking water. I also still can barely speak Shingazidja so communicating about how to do these things, and then just generally knowing what I should be doing at any given time is stressful. Writing those things now though makes me realize that other aspects of the Comorian culture – the welcoming spirit, the community atmosphere, and the importance of family, blood relation or friend, overshadows any of the more difficult adjustments when it really comes down to it.

Assalam Anlaikum!

That is an Arabic greeting, commonly used in Comoros and is considered a standard appropriate and polite way to greet anyone. It is also one of the very few sentences I can say in Shingazidja, which has made for an interesting experience this past week as most people in Comoros do not speak English. Shingazidja is the language/dialect of the largest island, Grand Comore (where I am currently). The two other islands, Anjouan and Moheli, have their own dialects (Shindzwani and Shimwali) that differ in a variety of ways from Shingazidja. After my 3 months of Pre-service Training are over I will move permanently to one of the three islands. Our official island assignments are being revealed in a little less than a week, and I will begin learning the prospective dialect after that.

It is incredibly cool and incredibly daunting at the same time that I am going to be learning this language because it is unlike any language I have ever heard before. I want you all to share in my learning so I have decided I will entitle each blog post from now on with a word in Shingazidja, Shindzwani or Shimwali – the world should know more about it! Currently every single piece of paper I possess probably has some random Shingazidja word written on it because I try to write down everything I hear in an attempt to speed up my learning process. Language is probably one of the largest learning curves I will face in my service.

Another notable difference from my experiences in America is the fact that Comoros is a Muslim country and it is currently Ramadan. I have learned so much about Islam and its important influence on Comorian culture and values. I am astounded that essentially the entire country fasts from sunrise until sunset every day for 29 days – this display of faith is incredibly humbling to me. I am looking forward to celebrating Eid with my host family this upcoming weekend! (Don’t worry a post about my host family is coming soon!)

My first week in Comoros has been a rollercoaster ride of excitement, discovery, learning, questions, confusion, and unfortunately a brief upset stomach episode. I have begun to realize that the Peace Corps, understandably so, will be the hardest thing I have done in my life thus far. However, I am already continuously realizing and learning new things about myself and about Comoros so I am ready to continue adapting and adjusting to life in this country.