Where animal crackers come from!

Safari. Amazing.
It was exhilirating to see antelops and lions and elephants and hippos and pelicans in the wild, doing their own thing; far different from animals in the zoo.

Seeing lions is the huge thing when one is safari-ing. We got to see lions all 3 days we were at Parc Pendjari. The second day was frightening. Now is mating season so the males are aggressive to intruders. We came across a male and a female and he was angry. He (lightly) attacked the car in front of us, and charged our van as we drove by. We got to hear a lion growl in the bush as we sat and watched him for a few minutes--it isn't anything like you've heard, not even like lions in the zoo. They're growl fills the air so completely that it seems the growl is coming from all around you, not a single, fixed point. And yes, they are amazingly cat-like.

Elephants and antelope were everywhere--they're common place. So common place that by the 20 billionth time seeing them we didn't want the driver to stop to watch them.

The lake of hippos was so neat--they're so loud! They make sounds that can only be compared to the Devil's laughter.

And of course, the sunsets were absolutely beautiful. I manage to get a good sunset shot--my first time ever and it's of an African sunset!!

I took tons of pictures but these are my best 5 (according to me). I will put more up if you demand them :)

Baking in Benin

Many things are different here in Benin, mostly because it's a third world country; travel, daily experiences, people, non-paved roads--you know, the nuances. It should be no suprise then that food is vastly different. The Beninese have all the same ingredients we do (minus a few vegetables) but they crazily different things with them. For example, pate (pronounced pot) a staple of the Beninese diet. It's base is corn. The Beninese grind corn into a powder, add water, then reduce it to a pasty white substance that looks like paper mache. L'igname pile (prounounced Yam Pee-lay). Mashed yams with added water to make a sticky pasty substance like pate but tastes better. Both of these things are time consuming to make and offer no nutritional value.

So, cooking has become a sort of adventure (like traveling). I get to create all different kinds of sauces for pasta or rice and baking has become an endevour. I like baking. In the States, I baked all the time--mostly for Rob--because I thought it was fun. And, believe it or not, decent baking can be done in the third world. I live in the mountains, don't have a working stove, and can't use any fresh butter--the odds are against any aspiring baker. But like I said, it can be done.

All this to say, I made a pound cake in my Dutch oven and it's bomb (extremely good). A Dutch oven here is the large pot with two cans in the bottom you see. You place the dish on the cans, cover and let it cook. I forgot to take a "this is the finished product picture," but it came out perfect; golden brown, moist, sweet, and soo good. I put Hershey's special dark chocolate chips in the batter, they all sank to the bottom and created a layer of chocolate--oh boy.

At thanksgiving I managed to make 2 pumpkin pies, apple tart, and a pumpkin custard that everyone loved. I'm excited for Christmas. At some point I can post recipes but not now, this blog is already too long :)

Bon appetit!

Exciting Events

AHHH!
Imagine this: 200 students, crowded on old wooden desks—the kind of wooden desk that the bench is attached to table part—huddled together in the dark of the night. The 200 students are hushed in awe, except for every now and then, en masse, shouts of “OHHHH!” and the few minutes of excited chatter that follows. That was the setting for my first showing of the first episode of Planet Earth, in my village. AND, IT WAS UTTERLY AMAZING!
One goal I have as a volunteer while I serve in Benin is to complete a series of projects using the least amount of money possible. For my first official-in-my-eyes Peace Corps project I started showing Planet Earth last week. I will show one episode a week for the duration of the number of episodes there are. And, not to be repetitive, it was amazing.
I put the word out by spending all but 10 seconds talking about it at the end of my four classes 3 weeks ago. 2 weeks ago I was gone for a week because all TEFL Volunteers were in Parakou (a big city, not as pretty as Natitingou) for review and update sessions. I thought when I came back last week that my students had forgotten about it but they in fact had not.
Armed with a projector and a dvd-player donated by the mayor of my village (I’ve been so lucky) I showed the first episode of Planet Earth. I had to wait for nightfall because I decided to project the show on the side of one of the school buildings. The student brought desks into the courtyard and waited.
The first episode of Planet Earth is a general overview of wildlife from the North Pole to the South Pole. At one point, the show features a herd of Caribou migrating in Northern Canada, and the wolves following them. Eventually the wolves move in for the kill, chasing the Caribou. It was at this point that the students went crazy. Off-their-seats-squeals-of-excitement-clapping-crazy. It was so apparent to me that they had never seen anything like this before in their lives. I was on an emotional high.
At one point, the program features animals in Africa and the students were even more excited. They began discussing the show in French, amongst themselves, naming the animals. Touching.
For me, the point of this project is not to give the students a scientific explanation of the world around them but simply to show them the world around them. I don’t have the French version of Planet Earth—I did search for it. But I realized that an added element of project glory comes from the fact that the students are listening to English while being so focused on the images. There’s some subconscious level of something going on.
I’m doing fine, post is fine. I’m going to Parc Pendjari (a natural wildlife preserve) in just 2 short weeks!! Of course I’ll post about it!

Over the Hills and Through the Woods, Around Benin We Go.

Being in Benin is an adventure for the spirit. Being alone in a village is definitely an adventure for the will. Eating fish complete with head and teeth and eyes is an adventure for the appetite. But traveling, traveling in Benin is an adventure all it’s own.
There are three ways for volunteers to travel in Benin: zemidjan, taxi and bus.
Zemidjan-Firstly, volunteers call them zemis. They’re a cross between mopeds and motorcycles with a little bit of ATV thrown in. Some are old and rickety and leave a trail of smoke behind while others are moderately newer. The Peace Corps requires that we wear helmets, which in my opinion does not ruin the experience. Zemi drivers go fast and when volunteers travel together they race each other! We zip through traffic at terrifying speeds—did I mention it’s faux pas to touch the zemidjan drivers—with your arms at your sides, or clenching your legs, as the zemidjan drivers weave through cars and run red lights. It’s our own little scene from Fast and the Furious. It really can be an adrenaline rush. The flip side is this: you’re riding a zemi to post, on an isolated road and the motor sputters, clicks, and finally shuts off. The zemi driver continues coasting as if nothing is wrong and for all you know nothing is wrong; maybe they’re trying to save gas. Either way, you’re scared that you’ll have to walk along the road until another zemi happens by or worse yet, you’ll have to walk the 20 kilometers to your post. I haven’t experienced the latter yet but I still have 703 days left, I’ll let you know when it happens.
Taxi—As I was typing the word I began to chuckle. Do not think New York Taxi Cab or any American Taxi Cab. A taxi for 5 people will always have 8 or 9 passengers, a taxi-bus for 9 people will always have about 20 passengers and a taxi for 15 people will have about 25 passengers inside, 3 passengers on the roof, one passenger holding onto the bike rack while standing on the back bumper, and one passenger hanging out of one of the various windows. Taxis are never new cars. The cars usually need to be refilled with oil en route, will be smoking by the time you get to your destination, have a lock broken on the door, and/or no rearview or side mirrors—this isn’t the worst thing about taxis though. The worst thing, and this is more an expression of fact that cultural insensitivity, is the 15-25 other people in the taxi who aren’t wearing deodorant. The smell can literally floor you, stop you mid-sentence and trip your gag reflex. It’s foul. Not a normal I-forgot-to-where-deodorant smell but a repulsive I’ve-never-worn-deodorant-in-my-life smell. It fills the nostrils with an acidic smell. The closest thing I can compare it to is the way wood smells when it’s burning, except this isn’t a smell that fills you with peace and causes you to breathe deeply. Oh no, this smell make you wish that you could not breathe but survive. I once went for a week without wearing deodorant and I didn’t smell 1/1000 as bad. Horrifying.
Bus—Imagine this: a coach bus, complete with air conditioning, a smashed in windshield and windshield wipers that clearly haven’t been changed in the bus’s 20 year existence. The bus is on a debatably two-lane highway with no center line, going roughly 70 mph, passing taxis and zemies and big-rig trucks without using a turn signal and while going around sharp turns. The bus holds the correct number of passengers thank God, but on the bus is a lady with a child who will cry for the entire 8-hour journey. She tries are hard to quiet it but when that doesn’t work she pulls out her breast and pops it into the baby’s mouth. Of course, there are people who aren’t wearing deodorant but the air conditioning helps a little, and there’s a lady selling her wares. Her voice starts high and pitchy and gets deeper and deeper as she ends each sentence. She goes from high G to low G not in a beautiful melodic way but a monotonous, repetitive way. The background music to this is a Beninese soap opera that is playing through for the third time and at such a loud volume that even with your i-pod at maximum volume you can hear the ladies squeaking and squawking.
So there it is. That is how volunteers in Benin get around. I am not complaining, it really is an adventure and there have been many times I’ve burst into laughter because of the absolute absurdity of traveling situations. It’s hilarious how people can fit themselves together, even more hilarious when zemi drivers race but don’t know where they’re going.

This Just In.

It's been 4 weeks. Things are better!
I’ve started to teach classes regularly now, which really means that most of if not all of my students are showing up. Teaching makes me feel really productive because I’m actually doing something with my time.
So far, it seems the students are well behaved and interested in learning. Usually, I try to include a song at the end of my lesson and the students go crazy over that. The school system here is very teacher-centered. There is student participation but most of the student’s time is spent in silence, copying information from the board. When I want to involve them in the learning process it’s a real struggle; they look at me very confused-as if I’ve gone from trying to teach them English to trying to teach them some ancient dialect of Chinese. But, I can tell they like being involved, writing on the board, clapping all the time, and singing.
At some point there will be an addition to my house! I am going to get a puppy to hang out with. When I get him, I’ll post pictures and maybe he’ll become a guest blogger :)
I have plans up until June of next year. They’re all fun things like vacations with other volunteers and visits from friends and family; it’s great to have some things to look forward to and they will chop up my time here helping it to fly by.
I got a rash! The best way I can describe it is by comparing it to ring-worm except it didn’t have a circular shape, it went every which way and was all over my body. I visited the Peace Corps Bureau in Cotonou, which was very nice because I got to take warm showers and eat good food and be around other volunteers. A dermatologist told me that it was reaction to a chemical released by some bug. Very mysterious I know. Today I’m headed back to my post to insecticide my house and see what happens! I’ll update on this if something else happens.
That’s really about it. I miss everyone, hope all is well, see you around the bend and all that jazz.
Peace

Post

Post

I’ve been at post for 6 days now (including today) and it’s been quite the experience. When I first got here, I seriously considered E.T. ing (early terminating my service) right away. I’m here alone, not doing anything—literally—but sitting on my porch for hours a day; my house isn’t a home yet; I don’t have friends immediately available; and I can’t even eat good food. These are the things that were running through my mind for 3 days straight from the time I got up until I went to bed.

For those parents (who aren’t mine) who read this blog, please don’t be in despair. This is just my experience and no one else’s. I can say that this part of the journey (I think) for all of us is very lonely.

In the last 6 days I have realized how much of a social creature I truly am. In the states, I always “wanted my space,” not necessarily from my friends but in general. Foolish, foolish, foolish. People who say they need their own space from time to time say that because they don’t know true isolation. That is, isolation that isn’t self-prescribed but imposed. In other news…

I was struggling—and am to some extent—but then a series of events happened that made me feel like this still is the right path for me. Sometimes it just seems that the universe smiles on you and gives you everything that you need, strung together like—I don’t know—beautiful pearls. Things that give your heart courage and make you laugh aloud at nothing and cause you to smile without realizing it. And these things are always very simple; rain after 3 god-awfully hot days, a photographic moment and the like.

My time in Africa will be a maturation period for me. I’ve learned in 6 days that I need to be around people I know to feel secure which, when I’m being honest, is the real reason behind my struggle with being here.

I don’t want this blog entry to turn into a journal entry. Let me just say that Africa is absolutely stunning, my post is beautiful, it’s a bit lonely so write your children or friends or whoever my fellow PCV’s are to you and of course WRITE ME! Even if I don’t know you, and believe me when I say that the mundane things to you are comforting to us because we want to be back there with you!

In fact: Jamie’s Mom, David’s Mom, Jennifer, Some of Jamie’s friends. You all should write letters right now. Your children/friends miss you J Of course, they didn't tell me any of this themselves.

Birthday in Benin

First birthday in Benin, check. The Beninese certainly do find a way to influence all aspects of your life--even your birthday.

There's a really nice restaurant (remember my standards have changed. I lived in Africa) called Java Promo. Getting there was a blast. Erin and I rode together, and were taken to the wrong place and charged too much. Once we got there, I had 8 shots of a Beninese-made liquor called Sodabe. Very good. Enough said.

Here in Benin, often times, the trip is more interesting than anything you experience at your destination.

Today, TEFL went to visit a village built completely on stilts in the middle of a huge lake. Very nice because it was my first real photo excursion here in Benin.

On the way there, smashed in a Peace Corps vehicle (as always), I was sprawled across a seat sitting in front of 3 current volunteers. I forgot to keep my balance after the van stopped and found my face in the breasts of said volunteer. Yikes.

Ganvie was really beautiful (see photos).

Because it's a village built on stilts, people travel around the village on little wooden boats.

At one point, there was a boy bugging us for money and gifts. The guy steering the boat decided to take the boy's only oar. This boy is only 1o years old by the way. He immediately broke into tears. Other people started yelling at our boat steerers started yelling at ours.

Imagine this: a traffic jam of boats, all the boatsmen yelling at our boatsmen. We're sitting in dirty water--the boat is rocking. Tres scary.

My birthday is fine so far.

Also, warning NOTICE THE ADDRESS CHANGE. ALL PACKAGES SHOULD BE SENT TO THE NEW ADDRESS :)

Qu'est-ce que ce passe?

This blog is just an update of events in the past 2 weeks since I haven't written anything.
Honestly, there hasn't been beaucoup des choses going on.
In Africa, people wear a fabric called tissue. It's essentially a tightly-woven cotton fabric of toutes les qualitiés. Some is horrid, some beautiful. It all comes with some kind of pattern or motif. The tissue is taken to a teilleur who can make just about any article of clothing you can draw. What's really great is that Western ideas of what it is to dress like a man haven't influenced Beninese culture.
No joking, men wear tissue that is bright pink with purple lace and red hearts.
All this to say: most of the tissue is not of my taste. However, last weekend je suis allé au marche avec Jamie, Erin and David and I found 3 patterns that are pretty decent. I took them to the teilleur along with my Express, vintage-fit dress shirt, and am having 3 shirts made. Pictures to follow.
Also, Erin and I are positive that we'll get to enjoy Ginger Snaps sometime in the future ;)
My Malaria medication gives me acid reflux to the max and the doctor suggested I take other medication to allow my Malaria medication to work better. I said no. I will be changing Malaria medication in the near future.
There's beaucoup des photos but Erin and I are figuring out the logistics of transfer.
Soul food was made at the last cooking session. I.....was very happy ;)
I've had some grumpy days--Rob, Erin knows your pain :)
Now that the Teaching English as a Foreign Language stagiers are in Model School we have to be at school by 7:30 and stay until about 17:30. Teaching is great! I'm still stubborn and stay up until atleast 22:30
And perhaps the most important thing, in the last 2 weeks I have realized, resented, and accepted the fact that I am in Africa for 2 years.

Excursions

Donc, Wednesday past, the T.E.F.L. volunteers left Porto Novo to go and visit the sites where they'll spend the next two years teaching.
Toucountouna is absolutely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, beautiful. It's a small village of about 4000 people, nestled among an Appalachian-esque chain of mountains. What's more, the village itself sits on the peak of a mountain in said mountain chain. If I look in any direction, I can see clear across other mountain chains for at least 100 miles--even on rainy days.
At night, the stars can be seen right down to the horizon. The sky in general is so clear, appears so close that one gets the urge to reach up and grab a star. Even better, I can see not just one but several planets on any given night.
The homes of the villages are exactly like you're thinking. They're colored a deep tan brown with straw or tin roofs. The major highway of Benin runs right through my village, and the offshoot roads are made from a kind of stone gravel including brown and red stones. The village and the homes look exactly like the places on the pamphlets trying to entice people to visit strange and exotic lands. In fact, there's a national park about 17 miles away from my town, complete with elephants, lions, gazelle, antelope, and of course crocs, a waterfall 13 miles from my town and a huge lake about 3 miles away.
My home is on a dusty road. 3 rooms, and an external area for doucheeing and bathrooming. It's a cement structure--I will not be huddled in some small dank dark pit pooping :)
Admittedly, I had a very low point during my site visit because it finally dawned on me that I am in Africa and will be here for 2 years and the people I love are back in the States--talk about breakdown. Thank you Rob :)

Lavering mes vetements

After 6 days of school per week, I like to do nothing on Sunday. Hanging out with Erin, Jennifer or Jamie is honestly the most I feel like doing.
It doesn't feel better to talk in English--there's no great relief. I'm honestly just too lazy to want to speak in French on my day of rest.
The point is: God rested on Sunday (or whatever God's 7th day was) and so do I.
Except yesterday.
My host family is nice. Papa and mama--and yes, I must call them that--are very patient avec moi. In such a fashion, my Mama matter-of-factly told me earlier in the week that I was washing my clothes Sunday. And, wash my clothes on Sunday is what I did.
Washing my clothes, by hand, has englightened me in two very important ways.
To begin with; I know why I was born in the 21st century. If I had been born in a time where I had to wash my clothes by hand for my entire life--I would honestly walk around naked.
It took me 4 hours to wash 3 pair of pants, 1 pair of shorts, 3 t shirts, and 10 pair of socks. I have already decided I am only washing my clothes every 2 weeks because I am too lazy to wash them more often.
Secondly, I have a whole new appreciation for the saying "walk a mile in their shoes." . I walked a mile in a washing machine's shoes. I walked that mile for 4 hours. I can say without reservation that I have a new-found love and respect for words like "Spin cycle," "Rinse cycle," "Soak" and the word "repeat" will always have a traumatizingly special meaning to me. When I return to the states, the first thing I'm going to do, save hugging Robert, is hug the washing machine. Hug it and thank it and call the company that produced it and thank them. After that, I'm going to call the local paper and ask them to write a story about the genius of washing machines because I will always tear up with joy as I put my clothes into that wonderful machine and let it do it's magic.
But for now, I'll use my knuckles.

Question: How is it possible for one to be surrounded by 10 very animated people and feel completely alone and isolated?

Answer: They're all speaking french, or a local language and you KNOW they're talking about you.

We arrived at our host families' houses Wednesday night. All of us, who had spent the last 6 days and nights together, scattered about the bustling city of Porto Novo. No cell phones to call and say "this sucks" or AIM/ICHAT to IM and say "save me." For that matter; we didn't even know where any other volunteer was living. I got to my host family's house and realized that my experience would be akin to something like a duckling learning how to swim: not quite drowning, not exactly swimming but doing something in between the two; mouth filled with water, can't exactly catch my breath, all the while wishing to be back on land. C'etait trés, trés emotionale!

"Assiette-toi," my host-mama commanded (equates to plate yourself) and for 2 hours I was asked all sorts of questions in frightening speed by 5 adults. Really, the only word I uttered was "quoi?"

Of course, there is progression.

á la prochaine!

NOTICE THE CARE PACKAGE SECTION TO THE RIGHT!

The Goings Ons of Things

Up at 7, busy until 6. 7 hour plane flight. 5 hour lay over in Paris, France. 7 hour plane flight to Benin. That was my first two days of Peace Corps journey.

By the time I got to Benin, I was sleep deprived, had been wearing the same clothes for 24 hours, had not pooped in 2 whole days, and hadn't eaten anything remotely filling or healthy. Despite that, there is no feeling to describe the way I felt as we wove through traffic in a van full of 29 people--made for 15, arriving to the St. Jean Eudes compound to dozens of current volunteers screaming our names.

No traffic lights, no turn signals, no stop signs, yield signs, lane merges right or left signs, one way signs, or stay on your side of the road lines. No crashes.

Benin is AMAZING. Cotonou, a major city, is huge and dirty and polluted and crowded and absolutely beautiful.

Women carrying baskets of bread on their heads. Women and men with tiny babies strapped to their backs. Men selling huge glass vases of gasoline on the side of the street. Tons of street-side shops selling everything; bread, avacodo, rosaries, dried bananas, dried meat, even cell phone sim cards.

The trees are amazing and to top it off, the ground is all sand--no dirt. It's humid but by no means terrible. I spend my days in a sheen of liquid and my nights relaxing to fans and crickets, sleeping under a mosquito net.

The friends I have made, are definitely making this journey trés beaucoup better! Erin, Jennifer, Dave, and our little nugget Jamie are such amazing people.

No diarrhea despite new and strange food exposed to insects. No malaria despite tons of mosquito bites. No feelings of regret despite the fact that I miss Roberto so much.

Benin is where I should be.

I miss all of you very much.

Up, down, side to side.

Sitting in the car, on the way to orientation, I feel so focused I can barely pay attention to the conversation happening around me.

My stomach rumbles, partly to release my overwhelming sense of anxiety but mostly because I haven't eaten anything and it's nearly 11 o' clock. Starving, the thought of food repulses me.

Each mile we drive I feel a ripping. The image in my head is this: I'm a gummy bear being peeled off a wall. Perfectly content, I'm forcibly moved from a blissful state of suspension to something else. Sure I asked to be moved; want to be moved; can find the value in being moved but now I feel a tinge of regret. I'm making people sad, I don't want to leave the comfort of my home or Rob's embrace.

Lunch comes with fellow future Peace Corps Volunteers, and they're great people.

Time to say goodbye. I feel so guilty. Jenna's crying, Claire's crying, and Meaghan's depressed. Am I playing with fate? I found love--I have love and now I've said "hold on."

They're proud of me, I do know.

What I feel most at this point though is this: Robert Curtis Wimer Jr. I love you with all of my heart and soul. I could not have made this journey without your help and unyielding support. I will miss you terribly--more than I can ever put in words. You are literally my everything. Please don't be sad. Keep your head up. Do things. I'll see you soon.

Specifics

Alright, it's official I am going to Benin. 

My new date for orientation is July 21st, 2009. I will be headed to Benin two days later, on July 23rd.

I am still a TEFL (Teacher of English as a Foreign Language) Volunteer, and my committment to service is still 27 months--which is a little sucky because had I gone to Madagascar I would've completed service and returned home around my birthday.

The good:

Cell phone usage is more common, mail won't take as long to arrive as in Madagscar--although it's still pretty slow, I won't have to eat rice 3 times a day, I'll get to use more french, and I don't have to deal with tropical insects.

The bad: 

Benin's cool season is not as long as Madagascar's so even though Benin has a tropical climate in the south the availability of tropical fruit isn't as great, anndd....I've read that Benin is considered a hardship position. My previous assumption was that all PC experiences were considered hardship position--WTF mate, now I have to reorient myself to the insects I'll come across--or that will come across me (blekh), and NO LEMURS!!!m

Change of plans.

You may be wondering why, the title of my blog refers to Benin, and the link refers to Madagascar. 

Unfortunately, due to political turmoil, the Peace Corps has cancelled volunteer programs in Madagascar. As a result, volunteers assigned to Madagascar are being reassigned throughout francophone (french speaking) Africa. 

I've been in contact with 5 people from my group and so far, 4 of us have been reassigned to Benin--hopefully the other two make it!!!

See you all there. 

P.s. The wishlist stays the same :)

Also, I may be able to use a cell phone pretty regularly!!

My First Official Post!!

Quick Info: I've applied and as of November 2nd, 2008 been accepted to the Peace Corps as an educational volunteer. My assignment is to work to TEFL (Teach English as a Foreign Language) in Madagascar for 27 whole months! I am leaving June 15th for staging in some major American city and then I am off to Madagascar on June 18th 2009.

For two months now I've been soaking in the realities of being a future Peace Corps Volunteer; here's what's on my mind:

Firstly, why do 95% of people excitedly ask "like the movie?!" when I tell them I'm going to Madagascar, as if the animated film has given them some insight into Malagasy (Madagascar-an) life?
Just in case you're wondering: I will not befriend a pack of talking animals seeking to escape Madagascar. If I experience any talking animals, I will immediately contact the Peace Corps Medical Services as talking animals probably means I have contracted some infection or virus that is causing psychosis.
Secondly, why is the experience of being a Peace Corps Volunteer in Madagascar cool until, amongst answering excited questions and responding to hum-drum statements about how admirable my decision is, I mention that I will not have running water?
What is it about running water that makes being a Peace Corps Volunteer seem so impossible?! The reaction is always the same; a twisting of the eyes and mouth, a scoff, a throwing up of the hands, and a vigorous shaking of the head, and always "Oh no, that's not for me. That's ridiculous." Even if two seconds prior to this fact I was the world's greatest hero, I instantly become a crazy fool who needs to enjoy water while I have it.

I have to say, I've suffered a few minor anxiety spells recently when thinking upon the fact that I will shed my capitalistic coil in 5 months to embark on a life changing journey; think Monk (the detective) walking into a disorganized room. OMG I'm leaving America to live in poverty in an effort to help save the world, how freakin' awesome.