The Rain Comes Down In Africa

Ahh the rainy season. I guess since we brought it with us we have no
reason to complain.

But I'm going to anyway.

I love rain storms, I really do, I always have.

And our first night in Kaedi, when we were sleeping in the dorms and
ran wild in the rain like children was a whole lot of fun.

But I sleep outside now, and getting up and moving everything into the
house 20 seconds before the storm hits, and yes, my family cuts it
that close every time, is seriously cutting into my sleep time, and
anyone who knows me can understand how much I value that part of my
day.

So yes, the rainy season means water, and mosquitos any day now, and
humidity, and it means that the path to my garden is flooded and
becomes the river schisto (ahhh, schistomiasis, which we are all
deadly afraid of, but that my training coordinator says everyone ends
up with anyway, apparantly you jump up and down before they test you
for it, to release the eggs. Such is the glamorous life I lead)

So I am torn today between not wanting to have to flee inside from the
rain; and at the same time really wanting a storm to cool it off,
since right now anything seems better than drowning in my own sweat in
the stillness of the past two nights.

And that's the weather report from Kaedi.

In happier news, 6 of we city folk took a walk out to the suburbs
yesterday, to visit our friends in Billinabe.

Billinabe shall from henceforth until forever be known as Malibu,
those three are living the high life in new houses with two floors and
private latrines. And doors.

Not that I don't like living in the South Central Los Angeles of
Mauritania, but I definitely had no idea of what I was missing.

I shouldn't complain; since on the walk to neighboring town Rindiao
with the Malibu three we met the poor unfortunate souls who live in
Mbedia. Only 2 of the 3 are left; and James and Greg live in mud
houses that fall apart when it rains; and they eat gruel and no
vegetables. We will imagine Mbedia to be the Tiajuana of Mauritania,
only without the alcohol. What, you ask, is TJ without cheap Mexican
beer? Exactly.

For those Rice people out there I will try and put this in terms you
can understand. The Billanabe people are living in great digs with
great people, so basically Sid. The people in Rindiao don't have it
quite as nice, but still pretty good, so we will say they are in New
Weiss.

Us in Kaedi are living with a lot of people in somewhat similar
surroundings, so we would be Brown; or Jones. Some of us are in the
old part, and some, namley Tyler, are living in the new section.

The people out in Joel, a town 15 km out, live in beautiful
surroundings, lush and green, so they are the Martelians, especially
since people have been moved there from their original sites.

The guys in Mbedia, they're living in Will Rice.
(Crap food, crappy college that's falling down.)
Pray for them, they are really very nice guys.

The field trip was fun; although it gave me a wicked headache, but
that was an excuse that meant they only told me to ewkli twice at
dinner, than left me alone in my pain. I really like my family, even
scowling Mustafa, but they're persistance in seeing me stuffed like a
Thanksgiving Turkey is starting to grow wearisome.

But at least my Hassaniya is getting better. The only positive note I
can add to Veronica's sudden departure from PC RIM due to a emergency
back home is that I was able to explain the situation and where I was
going and why to my mother in her Arabic dialect. She was so
surprised she almost forgot to ask me what I wanted to do about
dinner.

Almost.

We will miss you Veronica. Come back with Tommy and be the Mary and
Derrick of another group of stagierres.

But tonight we are having maceroni and chicken, so I have something to
look forward to.

Unless it rains.