Journal Entry 3

Journal Entry 3

9/9/13

I really don’t know that I can do this. The bed might be the final straw. It’s very uncomfortable and the springs keep poking me. I just want to go home and see my family, use my own shower, wash my hair, use a flushing toilet. I really don’t want to be here. I want my own room back, and some place I don’t feel like I’m melting. Somewhere where washing your hands after using the restroom is common. That would be nice.

I wonder… if I copy the data from the internet key, all the files, and put them on my computer, would I be connected to the internet? I’ll have to remember to ask dad. That and how long I really have to wait before I can come home. I did not foresee this potential future, and now that it is a reality, I can’t stand it.

If I end up being forced to stay here, I need to somehow let my non-English speaking liaison know that I need school credits.

So I spent more of the day outside with Nataly and the neighbor kids. We painted our nails, talked about boyfriends(or lack thereof) and tossed a ball around. I wanted to kill someone, preferably the person who had the brilliant idea of placing me in this pathetic excuse for a town. Then came pictures. Many pictures. Of me. I wanted to die… Later, we wandered over to the neighbor kid’s house. And grabbed brown bananas that looked as if they had been on the floor for quite a while. And had ants on them.

During this time, I discovered that Panamanian girls can be surprisingly perverted. It was either the five year old deepthroating a banana, pictures of the four of us deepthroating bananas, or the many pictures in which the girls kept making ‘sexy poses’ and trying to convince me to “be sexy!” Like I said…well, interesting.

We went to the store today and bought popsicles. Nice thing about Panama is that everything is very inexpensive. Ice cream bars are 45 cents.

Unfortunately, the shower water (or should I say bucket-water) has already done sad things to my hair. And I’ve only been able to wash my hair once. It’s dry, and my scalp is itchy. Also, the water smells bad. On impulse I tried drinking some. It tasted to bad, I spat it back out. And threw up. Yes Maddy, I am aware I have impulse control issues. Bad Lillie, no impulse.

On the bright side (yeah, right) it seems the Panamanian Police/Army is gender equal. A lady soldier followed us home from the store.

Well, I think that’s all for tonight.

Mom, Dad, Aaron, I really miss you.

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