Early morning here. This one is quiet - oh so blissfully quiet. The rainy season does that. Since I was able to sleep without earplugs last night, I can awaken to these subtle sounds as slow drips become a soft patter on the tin roof. Jenna (housemate) is away and the young PCV who was to have been here for the next few days has made other plans - so it will be a quite weekend if you don't count the revelry at Diane Gardens tonight.
It must be the Louisiana girl in me, but I begin to wither when there is no rain. And it's not just my skin and hair - I was warned of this by a Ugandan woman. My soul withers in the kind of heat and unending dust combined with lack of water and electricity, all of which typify dry-season here. As I've said before: it's the perfect storm for the demise of spirit. So the rain thus far is soul-mending. I may feel differently when all my clothes begin to smell of mildew, but right now I feel like dancing in the rain. I'd better hurry tho, because the sun is beginning to share the sky.
This is also beginning to be Mango season here in the north and I'm noticing that the green ovals on the tree in the front yard are getting fatter. No pink showing yet, so I don't know when they will be ready to harvest, but I'm keeping my eye on them. I've been told they disappear pretty fast courtesy of the kids who scale the fence with long poles for knocking the fruit off. There are those long poles again. They're pretty handy here.
And speaking of long poles, I visited the Police Station yesterday in the renewed hope of getting a copy of the Police Report on my burglary (which was conducted with those long poles). My case was referred to a young woman named Pomela about three weeks ago, so this is our second conversation. She's lovely, but has done nothing on the "investigation." When I saw her newly decked out this time in full police garb complete with rifle I said, "Pomela! You have been missing!" "Yes, I have been down and this is my first day back." We continue this polite conversation as a prelude to more serious business and there are wary looks from older, male police officers who clearly wonder what this Mzungu is doing taking up this woman's time. I'm still not much closer to being able to get a report, but I have a new friend. It reminds me of a saying shared with me yesterday by Cheesburger Man, who has lived in Africa all his life. The saying is" "Westerners have watches. Africans have time." It's a good thing I'm adapting to this, because when I arrived at Coffee Hut yesterday, I found I was without my phone which I'd left at the Police Station. Another two mile hike to retrieve it and I'm glad I have time, if not energy. And time is commodity of which there is much in Africa.
So today, I will meditate on that saying. It's one of the hardest adjustments for Westerners here. I'll start the puzzle sent to me by Evie inside the splendid glass French Press that arrived yesterday (thank you!), go the the cuk madit (big market) for tomatoes, garlic and avocados and see if I can find the Cilantro I've heard is there. Then I'll round up some Chipati (closest thing to tortillas), get some already cooked beans from The Happy Nest Guest House and put together some soft bean tacos and for dessert: Raspberry Chocolate (Evie again!). Also must find elastic and straight pins (mine were stolen in the burglary!) to start the process of making a Pillow-case Dress for the project I'll be doing with the women here. Finding elastic could be an all day affair, but Rose - who has a tailoring shop - has offered to help me find supplies when the project turns large scale. One hundred firty pillow case dresses is definitely large scale when it's being done by hand.
Onward! The rain has stopped and I think I have a window of opportunity!
No comments:
Post a Comment