New apartment, new inspirations

When I last left you, my loving audience, I was in the midst of a housing crisis; that crisis has been resolved in winning style. I have officially moved from my ex-host family's house to the campus hotel and from there (finally!!!) to my own awesome apartment. If you will notice in the previous sentence, the word "awesome" is enhanced not only with italics, but also with bold; lets just say that Blogger.com does not give me enough text formatting options to really do this word justice, but I digress.

Whenever my camera gets out of the shop (aka, my bedroom) and into my backpack again, I will post pictures of the rooms and the view. It is a brand new concrete building painted a really bad shade of institution green. I live on the second floor with an unobstructed view of Mt. Mayon and a good vista of the town and the airport. If you walk up one more set of stairs, there is a communal rooftop deck for box socials, suarees or just plain ole' lying down and staring at the stars.

#1 problem with moving into a new place: you have to buy a lot of new crap

I took yesterday off to cruise town and get my kitchen ready for Page's 2006 cooking experiment; more on that as details emerge.


This last weekend I decided that I needed an escape. I was feeling too bogged down by work (hard to imagine in the Peace Corps, but it is true) and in need of a bike race to participate in. As it so happened, luck was with me. This weekend was a two part experiment to determine how much my leg muscles have really atrophied since I have come here and to see how difficult it would be to do some serious travel with a large pack and bike. Another volunteer friend of mine, Katie, lives on the nearby island of Catanduanes . Their fiesta has been going on for the last few weeks or so and Katie had mentioned previously that a bike race was a part of that. Being an avid biker and occasionally liking a challenge, I decided to visit.

There were 2 races available to enter, the 20km "Fun Ride" and the 50km "Open Category Mountain Bike Race." Being totally sensible and not at all swayed by the wussy title of "Fun Ride" I of course chose the Open Category Ultra-Mega-Too-Hardcore-For-People-Who-Know-What-A-Duvet-Is Mountain Bike Race. Since I have done almost no training other than a two or three bikerides a week around the city, I felt that the preparations on the day itself were crucial for success.

I didn't have more than 2 glasses of wine the night before the race. I slept at least 6 hours. I filled my camelback. I sacrificed a collection of small mammals to the gods of the Shimano drive-train. On the morning of the race, I stretched, warmed up and talked with some of the other racers to try and convince them not to kick my ass too hard. Clearly there was a language barrier.


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pwned


If the above link doesn't really do my moral victory justice, allow me to relate the events of the first 4km of the 50km race. Believe me, nothing really matters after the chase car decides you aren't worth chasing anymore and speeds off to follow someone with some skill....

Here is the image for you: I am sitting near the front of the pack waiting to begin. My gears are shifted for maximum acceleration, my camelback valve is open and ready to dispense and my legs are just itching to start the race. 10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. The first racer has decided he doesn't care about the count anymore and has started inching forward. 2. The second and third racers have taken the cue of the first racer. 1. GO! Plus 10 seconds into the race. More than half the pack is completely out of sight (not a joke). Plus 6 minutes or so into the race. The fat kid who I was hoping to actually compete with has disappeared from sight. Plus 7 minutes. The leaders of the "Fun Ride" have passed me. Plus 9 minutes. The chase car has stopped caring for my health and well-being and is well out of sight. I saw the chase car a little while later scraping some guy off the road who realized that concrete tasted better than winning and decided to stop for a snack. He was okay afterwards, but his eye was a little ground-beefish.

In the end, I biked about 20km and then grabbed the chase car on its return trip down the course (a there-and-back-again type of race). Embarassed, I finally made it back to downtown in time to catch up with the other volunteers who had just had a similar experience in the improperly named "Fun Ride."

It was a good time, and my first bike race ever.

There are a number of bike clubs from all around Legazpi city. I think I will start biking with them to train so that one day I may actually be able to compete on the wussy level.

I will have pictures from my apartment and site visits to local water supplies (yeah, I do actually do work sometimes) will be posted before too long.

Keep sending your emails, I love it when people do that. For every person that donates one email worth of care in my direction, I will pledge at least 5 extra minutes of hard work this week to help the people of the Philippines (okay that is kinda mean, but keep emailing anyway)

PEACE