FLAMES ENGULF PEANUT FARM

Someone suggested I enliven my entry titles to increase traffic. Psh. Like anyone other than my mother sends me rewards for pushing out entries. That reminds me that this is the first post that I wasn’t harassed by Ouma for…so I deserve a cookie and maybe a CAT scan. You can never be too careful.

I’m chillaxin’ at home now. I’ve pulled up my paper mache chair to the counter (that’s right Ministry of Health, you don’t wanna give me a chair? I’ll show you.) and eating some KIMCHI RAMEN from Monica, the most beloved ex-roomie ever. I believe it was mailed about a year ago but I’ve been saving it for my birthday. And since that international holiday is smack-dab in the middle of my conference/medical check-up week in Windhoek, I’ll celebrate dried and MSG’ed goodness now. I always fear eating cool things in front of others. They may ask for a taste and I may flip and stab people with chopsticks. It happens.

If you just had a moment of freak out wondering how you possibly managed to forget the day of my expulsion, here’s a list of items I’ll accept in bribery of such a gauche mistake:

  1. More Kimchi ramen (or just the flavor packet)
  2. Postcard
  3. A copy of this book: http://www.amazon.com/Jewelry-Upcycled-Techniques-Projects-Reusing/dp/0823099903/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367603040&sr=8-1&keywords=jewelry+upc
  4. Your first born child (preferably college fund included)
  5. Letter
  6. AIR HUGS.

But other than my fast spiral into crazi-dom, not much has been happening. I still randomly help out at the clinic on Tuesdays and Thursdays, give healthy pregnancy education on Wednesdays and hide from my social worker counterpart on Fridays. This week he signed me up for a HIV support group in a near(ish)-by village. It went as well as first visits go. We are established, leaders found, and a meet-up point assigned. It was pretty straightforward. Which has my hopes raised for starting something similar here in Mariental.

I’m also trying to get everything in order for my next practical skills training (aka CRAFT WORKSHOP) coming up in a few weeks. Sorting through random projects, picking out potential fun stuff and looking up pictures. It’s a lot harder to do picture slideshows without a camera. I wish the camera on my computer was a real thing. But then I’d be tempted to take the thing to work…and the electrical outlet in my office is…special. You connect wires before using. Yeah, that ain’t happening. I’ll stick to charging absolutely everything at home.

It’s funny how I though I’d be hauling water from a borehole every day for two years and bathing in a river…and instead snagged a swank flat with (Africa) quiet neighbors and a patio. WITH WALLS. And curtains. I think they are what tip the scale into awesome. Seriously solid and non-see through curtains.

Makes for an easy home-life but kills all of the “when I was in Peace Corps” stories I planned to tell random strangers and grandchildren. But if I delete all traces of this blog and slowly make the other volunteers “disappear” no one would know…and I’d be able to get away with the whale-sized fish-tale of all fish-tales…

This plan holds potential.

But after all of this rambling I’m in need of a drink…and since I just discovered the powdered cocoa section of the grocery store I’m going to make myself a mocha. That’s right, peeps, MOCHA. With Starbucks coffee courtesy of my most fabulous fairy godmother, Margie. (You have all my hugs right now!)

Aite, CHICA OUT!

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One thought on “FLAMES ENGULF PEANUT FARM”

  1. Happiest of birthdays in Windhoek next week. We remember the day well more than a score of years ago–from Frankfurt to Kadena to Seattle to Mariental–interesting tales will follow for sure. Love you.

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