I may not have to go all the way to the mountains to witness the pig slaughtering festival. I just learned that some people slaughter pigs behind their apartment blocks in the parking lots during the xmas season. I guess that explains all the half-eaten corncobs that I’ve been noticing littering the streets. Here, I thought it was just people dumping garbage off their balconies for the stray dogs. Did I happen to mention that in previous emails? One must always be careful when walking under balconies around dinner time, especially during the warmer seasons, because you never know what inedible tidbits from someone’s plate or pots of grease will be dumped over the railing and onto the unsuspecting head of a person below. Carrying an umbrella is not only for the unexpected cloud burst. Most volunteers are busying themselves getting ready for turkey day. The vegetarians are searching for tofurkey (more on that later), while the carnivores are searching the markets for a turkey. We have been informed that canned pumpkin and cranberry sauce cannot be found anywhere in this country. I must admit that I am not part of this craze because I have never been a fan of the holiday, the related foods and/or the parades and football games. I usually like to sit at home alone and have a quiet dinner of lamb chops and watch Mommy Dearest. Unfortunately, this year I will not be able to do that either because lamb is only available in the spring (unless of course I happen to stumble into a good lamb slaughtering in a nearby block, but with my luck it will probably turn out to be an super-sized poodle) and I don’t have Mommy Dearest on DVD. Thus, I am forced to start a new tradition: Thai food and Planet of the Apes. Now back to this tofurkey business. I have received email upon email from Peace Corps volunteers searching for tofurkey. The overwhelming description is that it tastes just like turkey. I just don’t get it. What’s up with that? If you’re a vegetarian, why do you want to taste turkey? Tofurkey??? It’s just a white eraser injected with turkey flavoring. Why would anyone find that appetizing? And what is the turkey flavoring? How can artificial turkey flavoring be healthy? It just goes to show that the lack of real meat in their diets has turned their mental reasoning powers to mush. And the lack of real meat in my diet has turned me into a bitter, complaining woman! Amy (thank you very much) has been so kind as to invite me for a visit next year. You don’t have to ask me twice!!!! I plan on going. I am looking forward to kicking up my heels in a country that is not so racist and homophobic like the one I am in. The latest: today I was called Wayans and two boys kept shouting “I loved you in Scary Movie” at me. Strange, but I find being identified as one of the lesser talented Wayans more insulting than being called the “n” word. This isn’t the first time I’ve been mistaken for a man. When I first started working at Swidler & Berlin, a certain secretary used to call me Maxie Priest. And when I dressed up as Frederick Douglas (I did this quite often) many women expressed an interest in me after they confessed that they had never dated such a short man. Oh yes, in New York, a small child once called me a really big boy. But Wayans…oh well, two tears in a bucket…. Earlier at work I got a huge chuckle. A woman was screaming about how dirty and filthy the gypsies are. This is a favorite Romanian diatribe. If it were a sport, I’m sure they would take the gold. But boy did I get a big hoot when right in the middle of her venomous tirade she started picking her nose. No, let me clarify, I believe the proper term is “digging for gold.” Oh yes, the Romanians really are in a position to berate another group’s hygiene. Well, I got the news today that my office will be moved to the attic. It’s a lot larger and brighter than my previous closet, but a lot more isolated and cold. It’s very strange, but I feel my next move is to be put on the roof. That way, people can pass by and see and point at the American assigned to work at the museum, but no one has to work or deal with me. It’s kind of funny, but I am becoming the invisible person around here who only materializes at the will of the director to be put on display at press conferences and openings. I hope they will at least decorate me with garland and twinkling lights for the xmas window. If they do, I’ll even splurge on the red nose. It’s a shame. I did all this research on markets for the goods in the museum store and contacted vendors of world gifts. But no one is interested in following through with the projects that I came up with to make money for the museum. Instead, I guess they’d rather rely on government subsidies and grants. I am still waiting for the photographs to be taken of the goods we sell in the museum store so that I can send them to the vendors I’ve contacted. If I had a digital camera, I’d do it myself. I asked for these photos over a month ago. I am afraid to follow up on this venture because if it takes this long to take a picture, I can imagine how long it will take to fill an order, especially since the places I contacted want to buy in bulk. Well, on my way to a farewell party. Louis Tisne, the Brit/French guy who was volunteering on the Film Festival is leaving tomorrow to go back to Paris. He is going by bus. It’s a forty hour ride. Better him and thank god it ain’t me…that’s all she wrote.