thing, like, that I might get assigned to a group away from all my friends, where I wouldn't know
anybody. But fortunately, you get to pick your own group. So Michael, Lilly, Boris, Tina, Mrs. Hill, Lars,
me, Dr. Gonzales, and this one boy, PeterTsu , who is a junior and is on the wrestling team, are all in one
group.
I feel kind of sorry for our host family, to tell you the truth. Because I mean, except for Dr. Gonzales and
possibly PeterTsu who I don't know anything about none of us has ever built anything before. Some
of us have never even held a hammer before.
Our host family's house has a fair chance of ending up looking like complete crap.
Oh, God, there's the bell. We are supposed to gather in the "dining tent" now for orientation and
supper. I am having grave reservations about all of this. I mean, besides the tents and the whole thing
where we are probably going to end up ruining our host family's chances of getting decent housing, there
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is the fact that they have separated the girls' tents from the boys' tents which is going to make it VERY
difficult to find a place private enough to suit Michael's sensibilities for any make-out session that might lie
in our future with I shudder to write it Port-O-Lets!
Yes!!!!! That is right!!!!!! There are not even any working indoor toilets at least until we install our
hostfamily's . We have to use Port-O-Lets!
And don't even get me started on the whole shower thing. The need for solar shower bags came into
startling clarity when I saw the shower area, which is just a bunch oftarped -off stalls with hooks to hang
your shower bag from.
It looks like it's going to be wet wipes the whole way, as it is drizzling steadily and there is not a hint of
sun.
And you can't wash the smell of barf out of your hair with wet wipes. Believe me, I tried.
The bell again.Got to go.Must find a place to hide this journal so the bears/serial killers/ Blair Witch
won't find it while I am gone.
I really should try to get used to all this, because if I ever want to volunteer with Greenpeace and help
save the whales, the living conditions could be even worse.
Saturday, March 12, 9 p.m., Hominy Knob, WestVirginia
We met our host family. They are Angie and ToddHarmeyer and their two children, three-year-old
Mitchell and two-year-old Stefano. I swear that is the baby's name.Stefano. There is another baby on
the way, too. Mrs.Harmeyer is due in a month, though if you ask me, she looks like she could blow at
any moment.
Mrs.Harmeyer has a job sweeping up hair at a beauty salon in downtown Hominy Knob, which consists
of a grocery store, a credit union, a hardware store, a consignment shop, and the beauty salon. Mr.
Harmeyer has been unemployed since the local tire factory burned down. Both Mr. and Mrs.Harmeyer
are very excited about their new house. They have been living in a trailer since they got married. Mitchell
is especially excited about the prospect of having his own room. Right now, he has to sleep in the same
bed as his mom and dad.
After we met theHarmeyers , and we were all standing in line to get our dinner salad, corn on the cob,
sloppyjoes (being vegetarian, I just took a bun of some of the vegetables), string beans, and cherry
cobbler, for desert Mrs.Harmeyer asked me if it was true about my being a princess and the tall guy
behind me being my bodyguard, and I said it was true.
"Well,whatchadoin 'spendin ' your Spring Break around here, then, if you're a princess?" Mrs.
Harmeyer wanted to know. "If I were a princess, I'd spend my Spring Break inCabo San Lucas,ridin '
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on one of them jet skis."
I explained to Mrs.Harmeyer that I had been compelled to join Housing for the Hopeful instead of
spending my Spring Break riding on jet skis out of a keen sense of civic duty and a desire to learn new
skills.
Mrs.Harmeyer just looked at me funny and went, "What?"
So then I told Mrs.Harmeyer I was there to make out with my boyfriend. She looked really interested
then and wanted to know which of the guys in line was mine, and when I pointed to Michael she went, "
Ooooeee, he's a looker," which filled me with internal pride but also made me feel like smacking her.
So then I thought I had better change the subject, and asked Mrs.Harmeyer if she knew the sex of her
unborn child yet. Mrs.Harmeyer surprised me by saying she didn't want to know, since if it was another
boy, she knew she'd never push.
I was shocked to hear a woman in West Virginia echoing the exact same thing my mom back in New
York City is always saying, and I asked Mrs.Harmeyer if she, like my mom, was an opponent to the cult
of the patriarchy, to which Mrs.Harmeyer replied, "Gosh, no, I just want somebody I can buyBarbies
for, instead of G.I. Joes."
After informing Mrs.Harmeyer that I fully understood her feelings, I took my food and went and sat
down by Michael. Lilly was at out table, too, filming everyone. She filmed all the Hominy Knob locals
who filed curiously past our table, pausing occasionally to ask me where my tiara was ( answer: "Back in
New York"), what it felt like to be a princess ("Okay") and why on earth I'd come to Hominy Knob
("To achieve self-actualization through selflessly helping others"). I didn't think the locals aside from
Mrs.Harmeyer would appreciate hearing about my desire to suck face with my boyfriend.
After dinner, Lilly declared she had enough footage for a miniseries, let alone a single episode of her
show. She decided she was going to have to do a month-long tribute to Hominy Knob on her cable
access show. She decided to call the documentary "Sour Mash and Medicaid: The Failure of the Federal
Government to Ease the Burden of the Rural Poor."
It will, she says, bring the current administration to its knees.
After dinner, Dr. Gonzales talked for a while, but I didn't pay much attention because I was thinking
about the Port-O-Lets. Now I know why we'd been instructed to bring flashlights. There are no lights in
the Port-O-Lets, so if you have to go in the middle of the night, you have to use your flashlight to see by.
What's more, there's no telling what else might be sharing that Port-O-Lets with you. I mean, if you ask
me, it's the perfect hangout for spiders, possibly black widow spiders whose bite can be deadly.At least
according to the Discovery Channel.
I am definitely bringing my insect repellant with me to the bathroom every time I have to go.
It was after Dr. Gonzales's long, boring talk that things really started to look up. That's because, walking
back to our tents, Michael took my hand (it was dark out, so no one saw), then pulled me behind a tree
and started kissing me in a highly romantic manner. It definitely took my mind off the Port-O-Lets for a
little while. Good thing I had my cherryChapStick handy.
But then Michael was like, "What's that smell?" and I sniffed and realized he was talking about my hair,