How to hate a goat....

Andrew G. Fritz
Ok, so I'm sure most of you have heard news by now of my crash. Since the codeine is wearing off I figured I would get around to sending out an email. To begin with, the circumstances are ridiculous. Riding my bike back from what will be a new volunteer site in our district next year I was clipped in the rear tire by a fast moving sedan. Here's the best part, though - it was so they could avoid hitting a goat. Consequently, I have decided to organize an anti-goat campaign in Kasempa (which is undoubtedly doomed to failure due to the fact that goats are the village equivalent to a bank account) for the remainder of my service. After clipping my bike, I lost control and veered down an embankment beyond the shoulder. The driver continued to speed away as I stated cursing them in both English and Kaonde, a testament to the fact that in times of stress I can count on my language skills in this country.
Gaining speed as I went, my body decided that it would be a thrilling ride if I continued this path without my bike as I shot over the handlebars. I managed to tuck myself into as much of a ball as I could, which helped significantly with lessening the bodily impact, and began a comfortable roll over fairly grassy terrain. Unfortunately, the large tree in my path thwarted my efforts to walk away without injury. I took the brunt of the impact with my right arm, shoulder, face, and head. After a few minutes of unconscious relaxation, I awoke to find blood starting to come out of my mouth with several pieces of teeth. I put my teeth in my bike bag, dusted off the broken helmet, bent my rear derailleur back into place, and began the roughly 20 kilometer ride back home.
Later that day, a doctor Ashlee and I know at the local mission hospital gave me an initial checkup to ensure no neurological damage. We spent the night at his family's home and went to Solwezi in the morning with help from our forestry office. After putting my arm in a sling and munching some ibuprofen, our Peace Corps liason for Nortwestern Province took me fill out a police report and get donuts. The donuts were great on the painfully long bus ride to Lusaka the next day. After arriving in Lusaka, I have had numerous doctors and dentists poking, prodding, and taking x-rays with some fortunate results. Apparently, I am quite a blessed young man.
The roots of my teeth are intact, and healthy - so I only have to be fitted for a crown and fill two small chips. There are no broken bones, only a slight separation in my shoulder which will heal itself with the aid of a sling for a few weeks. The majority of the damage is to soft tissue, which is keeping me in Lusaka for a week of ultrasound therapy followed by exercises I can do in the village. In a few days, all my bruises should be gone, and I will soon be on my way home to wage war on the goats of Kasempa district.

Thank you for all your concern and love. The support system at home makes it much easier to be here. We (Ashlee and I) will let you know if anything changes, or if there are any updates to my condition. In the meantime, if you see a goat - kick it hard for me.

Much love,
andy