On the whole, the last month has been exasperating, encouraging, frustrating, energizing, exhausting, sobering and confusing. Every former and current volunteer I’ve talked to says this about training: “Just get through it.” Now that I’m six days from getting through it, I’m more anxious than ever to get to my post. At the same time, I’m glad to have some time to wrap things up in Bafia, hang out with my host family, bond with the other volunteers, and visit some of the places outside of the bubble I’ve been inside of for the past month. Breaking a rib is never a pleasant thing, especially for someone like me, but it’s bound to make the next week even longer. I can’t play futbol with the locals – who play harder than anyone I’ve ever seen, I can’t take off on my bike for an afternoon, and I can’t play bball with the guys I’ve played with every weekend (and grown quite fond of, despite the fact that they learned how to play by watching the NBA: meaning nobody passes, nobody shoots outside of an 8-foot radius, everybody travels, carries, and plays more with their mouths than the rest of their body). I hardly know what to do with myself.