I have become a lizard.... A few months ago, I was told by the only woman in my office "In February you will want to leave. Your heels will crack, your sky will flake, your hair will get dry and break and your lips will bleed." She is psychic....
My lips are not bleeding thanks to lip balm. I have just found some hair conditioner and one son has sent begged for moisturizer and foot balm, while the other has sent a new hat to replace the one that "is lost," and the most hysterical Christmas card I've ever read. But that's another conversation. Thank you all. Still, I have spent the last two hours horizontal in the heat, much like the lizards languishing on the brick wall and the one who looks frozen in place on the mosquito vent in my room. And really - it's not even "hot" here compared to other parts of Africa - well hell, not even compared to Texas in the summer.
The fan has come back on and for that I am grateful. My housemate has returned after having left for the bus to Kampala hours ago, only to be told that the bus is "not coming." Seems some poor unfortunate bus load of people is stranded somewhere between here and Kampala, much like the one we passed on our return trip last week. One Muzungu rider reported to us that "the bus is completely spoiled." That was an understatement.
So today has been blissfully quiet - unexpectedly so. Some Sundays there is rampant church music all day long. Today only sporadic bursts of souls being saved, punctuated by a rooster whose clock is off, and some metal clanging on the next street. Perhaps this is why I cannot find the energy to do a single productive thing today - one must celebrate the quiet. Well -I have read some of Sylvia Brown's book on past lives and am left wondering if one of mine has been spent in Africa, but it's heavy stuff to consider on a day of unadulterated laziness. Metaphysics will have to wait till a cooler day.
Last night was a wonderfully normal feeling evening. Friends came over and cooked - even brought wine, though we drank it warm. In all of the tools I brought over here, there was not a single cork screw to be found - so the red went un-explored. The white, we drank warm because it had a screw top. Amazing how one adapts in a wine crisis. I was somehow able to find cold milk in a duka a few blocks away and made instant chocolate pudding (from a Christmas box) for dessert. There was celebrating all around and we stayed up till mid-night talking about everything from communes and mico-building, to post PC plans and the U.S. political scene. We all slept late and enjoyed fabulous dark roast coffee (thank you Evie) and real half-and-half from Mini-moos from Liz. Her yellow-lab (Rufus) ate a case full before she got them packed, so these are the second attempt. Thank you Rufus for not eating these or the tuna.
By the way, five Christmas boxes mailed from Dec. 5th through Dec. 29 or so ALL arrived within days of each other. It was the most Bacchanalian opening of gifts in the history of woman kind. Shrieks of delight erupted from all those present at the opening. And the tasting of treats extended into the night. You are all "blessed among people," and a saving grace. There is absolutely nothing more exciting to a PCV than a package or a letter. They all arrived totally intact, undamaged and untampered with, despite things we've heard. Thank you all my sweet friends and thanks you to the Uganda Post office.
On a note of total trivia, termites (I think) are eating our furniture. Each day there is a little pile of wood-dust under the white pine chairs and lining the edges of the book case. We never see what's doing the eating, just the results. But I have discovered little pin-point holes in the chairs. The diners seem unfazed by the BOP insect killer I've sprayed around, so it's entirely possible that one day we will emerge from sleep and find only piles of dust. One PCV announced that termites ate a sleeve off his favorite shirt when it blew down in a storm. I'm happy they don't eat people, but I'm sure there is something else out there that does and I don't want to know its name.
Next week promises to be busy. We are back full-tilt at work and I get to start organizing files and rearranging the space. You know that makes me happy...
No comments:
Post a Comment