Devils & Dust

I left behind cities of blinding lights for lands where the stars shine bright. With it all the trappings of city life including Internet. How it managed to track me down through all these twists, turns and many miles I don't want to know. It's here now, in this frontier town of few thousand. As the old adage goes, if you can't beat 'em...



White people also won't leave me be. Italians at the post, German Bikers appearing out of thin air trading booze for lodging, French
vegetarians on a world tour...adds color to my already colorful life.

This is the Peace Corps experience. Always vague and ambiguous as you're left to your own devices. English lessons take over. The children on the street won't quit with the "hellos" and "goodbyes" even after you've acknowledged them. Sometimes I just want to throw...something...at them (Black Balkan humor?). Mare's milk. All sorts of meat. Tough and sour cheese. Rubbing alcohol is the staple vodka...drink of choice. Brides thrown at your feet. Drunkards like zombies on the street. Devils and dust. I wouldn't have it any other way. I recommend it to anyone who knows what's up and enjoys living life to the fullest...