For the first time ever... 
 

Something very exciting just happened and you’re the first to know.

I just – and I mean just – opened a can of tuna with a knife. For the first time. After months of watching everyone here do it and being the sole loser stuck using a can opener. Normally I try and the knife feebly rebounds off the unpierced tin and someone takes  it off me before I lose a finger, then everyone gives me a pitying look and I know they’re thinking ‘she will not do well when the Rapture starts...’*

But not tonight. Tonight I opened that baby myself. Tonight’s tuna tastes like awesomeness. And I’m chuffed. I can happily join the ranks of Messrs Armstrong and Hillary in the ‘People Who Do Stuff First Club’. (‘But Claire you’re not the first person to-’ LA LA LA I CAN’T HEAR YOU... Let me have this, please.)

What I’m saying is as a volunteer in a new environment you have to relearn how to do stuff you thought you mastered before you reached double digits. So life becomes a series of small accomplishments: working out how to make the generator go so you have running water, learning how to cook vegetables you’ve never seen before, not tipping the canoe, becoming adept at the art of doing one’s business without toilet paper, water or a toilet.

The first time I successfully washed under the village stand pipe (which you have to do still clothed as it’s situated in the middle of the village for all to see) and came out actually feeling like everything that needed to be washed had actually been washed, man, I felt like a queen! A clean, dermatologically-sound queen.

So I will enjoy tonight’s tin of tuna as I etch another notch in my belt o’ Solomon tricks. And I will etch that notch with the very knife I used to successfully open said tuna. And I shant cut myself doing so, either. Because tonight is a night of firsts. Until next time!

*Which is soon, right? Happy end of the Mayan calendar to you all!