So close

One more week of staage.  This time next week I will be free, free, free of my host family.  Not that they aren't very nice, but after a few months, certain things start to wear away at your soul.

Things like:

The family constantly complaining after every rainstorm that I don't close my windows, when, in fact, I do.  The greater problem lies in the fact that the windows don't latch, making closing them in a strong wind somewhat pointless.  Not that the windows being open harms anything, rain doesn't come in.  If they want to know where those puddles are coming from they should look to the large holes in the roof where the water pours in, that might be our culprit.

or

Watching the family prepare tea and wash dishes and hands with the self same pot that they fill and take with them behind the shed or against the wall to wash themselves with when they do their business.  I am the only one who uses the hole in the shed in the corner of the compound.

or

Avoiding my older host brother, who seems to think it is my job to teach him English.

or

Eating plain maceroni for dinner night after night.

or

Eating cous cous and oil night after night.

or

half a million other small oddities that will almost surely be replaced by fresh annoyances in my new town, but at least there I will have the possibility of escape.

I can't escape here.  The last time I ate dinner with a different family, my host mother threatened to beat me.

I think she was kidding, but I'm glad I only have a week left anyway.