In Transit from Santo Antao

Greetings Americans!!

So Iºm in transit from Santo Antao (the really green spectacular mountain where I was visiting a current volunteer) back to Cha di Tanque on the main island of Santiago. This involves hiking down the ribiera from the volunteers house (about an hour), riding in the back of a truck from Paul to Provencao, a van from there to Port Novo, a boat to the port city of Mindelo on the next island over, where I´ll stay at a hotel until tomorrow morning, when I´ll cab it to the airport, fly to Santiago, cab it to the plateau (city center) find a hiace (van-ish thing)to Assomada, ride in the back of a truck to Cha di Tanqu and then hike to my host family house. Yikes.

Anyways, I think there must be some mistake because I arrived at the hotel, asked for my room, and was led there by the desk clerk and the room is HUGE. Computer with internet, TV, shower, bed...the works, and there was no hassle. This is the first no hassle thing Iºve encountered since leaving the states. Wow. Thank you Peace Corps!!

Anyways, Santo Antao was....well, just read the following. I went a little Ernest fucking Hemmingway and had a few (2) grogs (pure distilled sugarcane alchohol flavored with honey) last night and this is what was on the paper when I woke up. Forgive the mushiness and flowery language...

I´m writing this from Paul, Santo Antao, and the island is spectacular beyond imagining. Right now I´m perched atop a tall stone wall on the edge of the ocean, against which crash the thunderous and rhythmical waves of Africa. A wide cobblestone boardwalk runs the length of the entire village, and even at this late hour, coupkles are strolling aand talking, enjoying the cool night air...the sound of guitars somewhere in the distance. The road here from Port Novo took me thousands of feet up the rocky, lunar, desert terrain of the south of the island, before suddenly giving way to a wonderous and lush green forrest of pine trees, scednted needles everywhere. Atop the mountains, the road continues to wind along the narow ridges, and for a while, below us only clouds. Crossing into Ribiera Grande, impossibly steep and fertile valleys are revealed below. Scattered houses, tiny in the distance, cling like miracles to the mountainside, surrounded by terraced crops and gardens. Now the road begins to descend to the North side of the island, each bend revealingsteeper, deeper valeeys and taller, looming peaks. It takes the breath away. At road´s end, Provencao, with its black sand beaches, rocky coast, wide celan streets and smartly painted pastel houses. Turn right asnd walk an hour, and you´d find me here atop my wall.

Then my writing got REAL bad, so Iºll spare you that agony. To put it succintly, it looks like Lord of the Fucking Rings here, or maybe Jurassic Park...whatever it is, I hope itºs where Iºll be calling home for the next 2 years.I was actually able to scout a possible town, Cha di Igresia, which is Heaven, and about which Iºll write more later. It would literally take my life savings to upload a picture from my camera without resizing it, so until I make it back to Cha di Tanque, you'll have to wait for the pictures. Seeing is believing!

Thanks for all your e-mails, please keep them coming! Also, please feel free to pass a link to this site on to anyone you think might be interested. Txou!!