Today we had our first day of training – it was interesting: very little instruction until the end. Tomorrow I’ll have an extra hour or so – I’ll probably write more then.

Writing by hand takes so very long. I long for my computer, at least for my journal. I know I’d write so much more.

I am surprised that I’m not at all homesick. I would imagine that I”ll get that way in the future – once the newness wears off. Yet with the linguistic challenge always grudgingly offering its rewards, I don’t know that the newness will dissipate. I am very comfortable here. I know few phrases; I would become easily lost; I understand little of the culture – yet I’m comfortable. I even call this house “home.”

I am in Poland – occasionally it really hits me and I am shocked. I stand with other PCVs at the post office and I realize as I speak that I am the exotic one for a change. A little boy stood staring at us as we spoke – it felt good in a strange way.

I’m going to bed now. I am still so tired from the flight and I’m sure the stress, though not obvious, is taking its toll.