i have folgers coffee. do you believe it? phil had a visitor from the states and surprised me by asking her to bring me some folgers. it's the best part of waking up.
the kiddies and i are off to rwanda tomorrow morning. rwanda round three. i love that place. more than most places in the whole world. but i'm tired. yesterday i went and took a nap through my lunch break and when i came stumbling back out into the daytime i found phil stumbling out of his dorm too.
- did you just take a nap?
- yeah.
- me too!
- oh geez.
it's coming to an end and we feel it. what an incredible year i've had!
i don't want to live anywhere else.
but i'm ready. ready to be surrounded by favorite faces. and favorite highways. and my favorite chicken soup my mom makes.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
trees and things
i noticed today how particularly african everything looked. i don't usually think about it. i live here. it's like looking in your backyard and noticing that it has grass.
but today was different somehow.
maybe knowing that i'll be gone soon has opened my eyes. like people who survive near-death experiences only to notice how fantastically blue the sky is. and the sky was incredible today. a few clouds back and forth in front of the sun, giving off that perfect crisp light. and it may have been because of that picture perfect light that i noticed everything else.
the hill behind my dorm has rows of trees stacked on top of each other, one tiered over the next. palm trees and banana trees and hazy blue hard wood trees all moving in the warm air. today they stood out so sharply. birds were singing and shouting from all over. i could hear monkeys and black flies. it smelled green and sour like fallen ripe fruit where butterflies and ants came in twos and threes and twenties to drink up the juice. and last night's rain left the ground an extraordinary orange.
i noticed all of it. and i was a little in awe. my friend carissa (who you can thank for the newly designed blog. she's an artistic genius in more ways than one) gave me a quote yesterday.
the miracles of nature do not seem miracles because they are so common. if no one had ever seen a flower, even a dandelion would be the most startling event in the world.
dandelions. the most delightful of forgotten miracles. and today i tried to remember all the miracles i could. bees and pollination and avocados to eat off the branch. bird nests and moth wings and fallen trees. and i got to look them all in the face. a landscape out of national geographic or a child's imagination. i live in it.
and soon i wont.
but today was different somehow.
maybe knowing that i'll be gone soon has opened my eyes. like people who survive near-death experiences only to notice how fantastically blue the sky is. and the sky was incredible today. a few clouds back and forth in front of the sun, giving off that perfect crisp light. and it may have been because of that picture perfect light that i noticed everything else.
the hill behind my dorm has rows of trees stacked on top of each other, one tiered over the next. palm trees and banana trees and hazy blue hard wood trees all moving in the warm air. today they stood out so sharply. birds were singing and shouting from all over. i could hear monkeys and black flies. it smelled green and sour like fallen ripe fruit where butterflies and ants came in twos and threes and twenties to drink up the juice. and last night's rain left the ground an extraordinary orange.
i noticed all of it. and i was a little in awe. my friend carissa (who you can thank for the newly designed blog. she's an artistic genius in more ways than one) gave me a quote yesterday.
the miracles of nature do not seem miracles because they are so common. if no one had ever seen a flower, even a dandelion would be the most startling event in the world.
dandelions. the most delightful of forgotten miracles. and today i tried to remember all the miracles i could. bees and pollination and avocados to eat off the branch. bird nests and moth wings and fallen trees. and i got to look them all in the face. a landscape out of national geographic or a child's imagination. i live in it.
and soon i wont.
Friday, April 3, 2009
bright shiny mourning
i can't find my ipod. i think i lost it.
this is apocalyptic. for sure.
in other news, it's raining. raining raining raining. and it's cold. neither of these two things are any help when it comes to taking a shower.
allow me to explain.
in my younger days i would love taking a nice shower when it's chilly out. (actually, in my youngest days, i hated showering. it was such a waste of time and you just got so wet.) by the time i was old enough for high school and for driving, if it was snowy or rainy or a particularly cold morning, i would drag myself out of bed and hurry to the hot shower. and there i would stay. under hot water staying warm, singing to myself, keeping my eyes closed, keeping myself warm and comfy. and then my dad would shout from downstairs that the city called and i was draining them of their water supply. and then my mom would come banging on the bathroom door that i was gonna be late for school.
and then i was late for school.
but the shower was always a nice remedy to the cold and chill of morning. here in uganda it's not supposed to be cold. or chilly. unless of course you're taking a shower.
cold cold water.
as of this morning i had gone about a week without any sort of shower. face washing. hand washing. deodorant applying. this had been my hygiene regimen for a while.
regimen is a good word. not as good as paperclip though. listen to all those consenants! PaPerCLiP.
so last night i knew that the next morning i would have to wash this mess of hair. and i woke up to rain. rain rain rain. and cold.
but don't worry, i washed my hair. i stood in my pajamas with my head under the sink, cursing the cold and the rain and the puddle i was making on the floor at my feet. my monkey slippers looked up at me equally miserable with their cold shower.
i want my ipod.
maybe this is a lesson. do without music. do without your hair. agreed? anyone? probably not... don't worry i haven't done it yet. but i'm looking into it.
just think of all the cold water i would save!
this is apocalyptic. for sure.
in other news, it's raining. raining raining raining. and it's cold. neither of these two things are any help when it comes to taking a shower.
allow me to explain.
in my younger days i would love taking a nice shower when it's chilly out. (actually, in my youngest days, i hated showering. it was such a waste of time and you just got so wet.) by the time i was old enough for high school and for driving, if it was snowy or rainy or a particularly cold morning, i would drag myself out of bed and hurry to the hot shower. and there i would stay. under hot water staying warm, singing to myself, keeping my eyes closed, keeping myself warm and comfy. and then my dad would shout from downstairs that the city called and i was draining them of their water supply. and then my mom would come banging on the bathroom door that i was gonna be late for school.
and then i was late for school.
but the shower was always a nice remedy to the cold and chill of morning. here in uganda it's not supposed to be cold. or chilly. unless of course you're taking a shower.
cold cold water.
as of this morning i had gone about a week without any sort of shower. face washing. hand washing. deodorant applying. this had been my hygiene regimen for a while.
regimen is a good word. not as good as paperclip though. listen to all those consenants! PaPerCLiP.
so last night i knew that the next morning i would have to wash this mess of hair. and i woke up to rain. rain rain rain. and cold.
but don't worry, i washed my hair. i stood in my pajamas with my head under the sink, cursing the cold and the rain and the puddle i was making on the floor at my feet. my monkey slippers looked up at me equally miserable with their cold shower.
i want my ipod.
maybe this is a lesson. do without music. do without your hair. agreed? anyone? probably not... don't worry i haven't done it yet. but i'm looking into it.
just think of all the cold water i would save!
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
oh so well
my mom tells me i'm writing apocalyptic blogs about being lost. in the words of kanye west, hey mama... actually i'll stop there. there aren't a lot of kanye words i really want to be repeating.
so here's a less apocalyptic thought: hope does not disappoint.
and nether does a nice hot shower. which i need. and a hair cut. which i guess could technically disappoint. but not if it's a total head shave... right?
so here's a less apocalyptic thought: hope does not disappoint.
and nether does a nice hot shower. which i need. and a hair cut. which i guess could technically disappoint. but not if it's a total head shave... right?
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