Trick or treat from Costa Rica

Hit San Jose this afternoon, crashing for the night at a backpackers hostel, and then continuing on to Panama to chill for a couple days with our buddy David and hopefully catch a boat to Colombia.


I've loved seeing the geography and colors change as we've pushed further and further south. It's like we're heading deeper and deeper into the source of all things green, and the closer we get, the more intense it becomes. Looking forward to seeing what Panama and Colombia have to offer...

A hell of a milestone to reach

Over $20,000 raised for ALS research. Wow. That's all I can say.

<<< Team America's fundraising page >>>

What a long, strange trip it's been

Well, we're in the final countdown.

And if you know me, you won't be surprised to hear that I'm taking thousands of photos and videos in my last few days in the campo in an attempt to capture some of the "feel" of my Peace Corps experience and daily life for the past two plus years. But obviously that's impossible. There's no way to document the feeling of walking down a dusty road, hearing a familiar mixture of kids and chickens off in the distance, and feeling, well, happy. Or being able to stroll through the woods over to my neighbor Blanca's house to sip some burnt cowboy coffee and just sit for a hour or two while she prepares lunch for her family.

I was emailing with Jimbo about this the other day. That it's impossible to leave PC on one's own terms. And how, the last month of Peace Corps sucks. It simply sucks. So much to do and so little time. It honestly feels like time has been accelerating, rolling downhill and picking up speed despite my efforts to pull the e-brake and get everything back under control. Don't know where those days went when I had nothing to do but hang out on my porch and kick plastic bottles back and forth with Peligro. Ah well.

It's been a comfort for me to see your names in my inbox. To my family, Ellie, Amy, Katie, Chuck: thank you. Thank you for reaching out.

The only way to describe these last few days in my community would be as indescribably bittersweet. Happy to be moving on and beginning another chapter of my life, yet unabashedly ripped to pieces emotionally for the loss of friendships, routines and the life that I've become accustomed to.

Know that I am really looking forward to seeing you all and catching up when I'm back in November and December. Hopefully over a cold pint of IPA and some solid hot wings.

The end of an era

A couple weekends ago, we bid farewell to another one of our own. A fellow third year volunteer, and a dear friend. The good news is, he's a southie kid and will be sharing dollar pints with me at Tom English's before the year is up.

So most volunteers, when they finally take off, plan a night out in the capital or the beach with their closest friends, who are usually nearing their end date themselves. Usually one last hurrah to cap a couple years of blood, sweat and tears in the developing world.

Joe, on the other hand, isn't your average volunteer. And it's not his style to go gently into the night.

No, for Joe's despedida (goodbye party), he rented out a beachfront house, complete with pool and space for 30 people, and threw the mother of all parties. He might have even had clowns and a unicorn petting zoo, but the two kegs and unlimited sushi kept me pretty well distracted.

Here are a few shots from the event...


The man of the hour




Rhett and Axel, two stand-up guys.


Fred loves him some chicken teriyaki.


Joe said a few words


And we dug into the feast.


Such a good vibe.








Later on, Sam learns why it's never a good idea to fall asleep in public.




The final product.

Approximately 10 minutes spent setting up...


...yet hours upon hours of enjoyment.




Sam was such a good sport. And, from conversations I've had with him, is turning out to be a hell of a volunteer.