Away in a Bungalow

Sometimes I think I should keep my big mouth shut. But if I did than I wouldn’t be able to laugh at myself as much. On Christmas Eve I told my friend that I missed her like I missed ham and cheese sandwiches. 15 minutes later I looked outside at what I thought was a bonfire, I was wrong. It was like a 5 foot pig covered in brush getting cooked. Before that on Monday, I wrote on Lisa’s wall about how we had food poisoning together exactly a year ago. 2 hours later I was going back and forth between my bed and the bathroom. Serves me right, especially with what I eat here.

Mr. Agba called that night and wanted me to meet him so I reluctantly went and met him. This followed:

Daniel! How is life, what will you take?

Hey Admiral, I am sick small small. I will take nothing.

No no, you will take.

Ok, I will take Fanta.

Fanta? Are you a woman? (to me) Psst, 2 Stones(to spot owner)

Stone is a heavy lager and bottles here are more than 2 back home, usually that’s a good thing.

Christmas started with a 3 hour mass and until the call from the family that was the only noteworthy event. Christmas is not a real big deal where I am but at least it exists. Most of my close friends here got stationed in the Muslim northern regions, aka no Jesus’ bday land, so I’m lucky. Lots of them don’t have power. Actually I’m probably the most spoiled PCV ever. I sometimes have a laptop, Ipod, cell phone, shortwave, electricity, and pipe borne water. Part of that has to do with the PC’s ability to adjust. Gone are the days of 2 letters and a phone call a year. There is no use in acting like technology is not here especially for a business volunteer, a lot of my job is to teach them how to use it properly. The most spoiling item I receive is my support from back home. Basically Christmas wasn’t all that bad because I know I have a lot to miss if that makes any sense. Sometimes it’s better to miss people than to be stuck with them all day, just kidding guys.

On Sunday they have the runoff for their election, it should be very interesting, and I’m praying peaceful. Being in a border town means lots of extra soldiers to make sure people don’t walk across. Here they vote by thumbprint and the ink is supposed to stay on for over a day. That means any African could walk up and vote if they’re in country pretty much. As much as I miss home, I’m just getting started here and don’t want to leave. I mean I’ve been doing research here and it’s like no research I’ve ever done. It’s fun to piece together broken language interviews, American reports, mistranslated articles, and questionable internet sources. Makes ya wonder where our credible sources do come from.

This morning I made my first big kente sale to a girl from Sweden who was lost in Kpetoe looking for a store. Mr. Agba was pretty pleased.